#he may be a snarky asshole

[angelsheartts]

୭ JEALOUSY ˚. ᵎᵎ ~

#pairing : lucifer, adam, alastor, angel dust, husk, valentino, vox, x gn reader.

#cw: jealousy?, +18 in valentino's/vox's part, suggestive content ig, cuss words lmao.

#notes: u guys don’t know how much i wanna know why lilith made a deal with adam, and how could she even fumbled lucifer.

⋆.ೃ- LUCIFER .

i don't think lucifer gets jealous easily, at least, but if he is jealous, he will surely become reallyyyy clingy and will try to show off. i mean, he's the sin of pride, after all.

being the partner of the king of hell really meant that there would always be people staring at you, even ones who had no shame at all and would flirt with you, sometimes even in front of lucifer.

"would you mind if I bought you a drink, sweetheart?" a powerful overlord asked you, making lucifer raise an eyebrow and look at the overlord with one of his annoyed characteristics expressions, and before you could even reply anything, lucifer had already bought you both the whole menu of drinks while clinging onto you. "do you think this is enough for you, (name)?" he asked, making the overlord stop bothering you both and making you gasp a soft sigh, knowing he did all of this with such an innocent face, as if he wasn’t getting annoyed just a second ago.

⋆.ೃ- ADAM .

his ego is too big for him to even consider the idea of being jealous, but boy, does he want to get rid of the fucking asshole who is talking to you.

even though you were adam's third wife/adam's first husband, you were nice to being around. not like your husband, who always made snarky comments about everything and everyone.

sometimes, though, people would flirt with you without you noticing, making your husband really irritated and dragging you away while flipping off the angel who initially flirted with you and making some snarky remarks about them. "(name), that bitch was literally fucking you with his eyes! you should have called me before, next time make sure to be around me, got it?" adam called out, making you giggle since his insults were sometimes so unexpected.

⋆.ೃ- ALASTOR .

alastor is the kind of guy who wouldn’t get jealous; maybe once an extermination you would see him acting a little possessive over you, but really, this guy knows your soul belongs to him, so why would there be a need to feel jealous?

actually, only your friends at the hazbin hotel where the only ones who knew about your relationship with alastor; it made sense, since he knew you could get in danger if someone else found out.

that didn’t meant that angel dust wouldn’t take the opportunity to flirt with you as a joke while trying to get a reaction from you. "(name), i think you would get pretty popular if you started to appear on my films" he said jokingly to you, while alastor just looked at him with his usual smile "i don’t think that (name) would want to get involved in that kind of stuff, angel dust, isn’t that right, dear?" alastor answered, kissing your cheek, and leaving you speechless since he mostly kept his affection for when the both of you where alone.

⋆.ೃ- ANGEL DUST .

for me, he may get jealous depending on who's hitting on you; if it’s some random imp, it won’t really bother him; he will just tell them to fuck off themselves and leave you alone, but if it’s someone like valentino, oh boy, he acts VERY different.

angel dust didn’t really like you being in the porn studios were he works, because he knows that valentino is waiting to say anything to you, and because he simply thinks you don’t belong in a place like that. he thinks you’re much better working at the hazbin hotel or wandering around the pride ring.

"(name), aren’t you a supportive one? you know that if you want, i could make you a star lik-" "val, we're on set soon" angel dust spoke, looking angrily at valentino. "well, looks like your little boyfriend doesn’t want me to talk to you; i’m sure we’ll have plenty of time the next time," valentino whispered, making you stand there awkwardly.

as you both were finally at the hazbin hotel, anthony asked you not to come next time, since he really didn’t want valentino talking to you ever again. "(name), you know i really don’t want to get you in trouble, and you know that outside of the studio we can do whatever the fuck we want, but still, thanks for the snack you brought." he said, smirking, and letting you cuddle into his arms like you always do after an exhausting day.

⋆.ೃ- HUSK .

husk would only get jealous or, well, mostly, frustrated if someone interrupted you both, like if you both are just having a wholesome moment and someone just steals your attention from him, he’s a cat after all AND will be grumpy afterward.

you were having a nice chat with husk while having a drink at his bar, but as he was explaining you something, alastor came along and asked you something between the lines of 'if you had seen charlie or vaggie' since he had to talk to them about some business about the hazbin hotel.

after alastor left, you turned to look at your partner, noticing how he had been growling this entire time. it wasn’t really loud, though. "tsk, that radio demon really needed to ruin the atmosphere," he said, making you give him a look "what? you know, i dislike the idea of him thinking that he can just do whatever he pleases with my stuff." hearing your partner's words, you knew you had to reassure him that even though alastor had interrupted you both, your attention was still set on him and no one else.

⋆.ೃ- VALENTINO .

he’s valentino, he surely and kind of obviously gets jealous whenever you’re talking to someone that isn’t him.

the workers in the studio know that since you worked there, you've only filmed with valentino; nobody questions why, and nobody really cares whatever reason their boss has to not let you fuck with others.

today, though, a worker intended to jokingly flirt with you. "(name), i think that if we make a video together, even the most pure souls would want to watch it" oh, well, that wasn’t even a little funny to valentino.

"such a slut for me, mmh? you really thought my sweet (name) would even think about fucking with you?" valentino smirked, while thrusting into you. he had his eyes set on the demon who flirted with you, not even caring about the fact that he was on set.

⋆.ೃ- VOX .

this man has the same jealousy problems, or even worse, than valentino. he's actually such an attention whore, so he obviously would despise everyone who tries to flirt with you.

actually everyone who works for the vees knows how jealous vox is, and that’s because this is a situation that often happens: if someone is even looking at you a little longer than usual, he will become insecure and try ANYTHING he can so he can have your attention on him. like i mentioned, he’s an attention whore.

today, the outfit that velvette chose for you might have made some people stare back at you. i mean he can’t judge them; you looked so fucking good in it, but hell does he want to have you all by himself, so what does he does? take you to his office so he can have you all by himself.

"(name)," he mutters while keeping his hands all over your body. "you knew what you were doing, huh? making everyone stare at your body, but i’m such a good partner for not making a fuss about it, right?" he asked, waiting for you to atleast praise him, 'cause like a already mentioned he’s an attention wh- lmao.

[say-al0e]

Casual

Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18! Minors, DNI!

Summary: Steve Harrington has always been kind of an asshole and you've always been kind of in love with him. But a lifetime of friendship doesn't mean either of you are ready for something more than a casual fling because there's nothing scarier than vulnerability, even in Hawkins. [Set between seasons 2 and 3] Warnings: Car sex, requited unrequited love, unprotected PinV, mentions of cheating (parents, Carol; not Steve or Reader). Pairing: Steve Harrington x rich girl!Reader (briefly mentioned but important, off-screen Eddie Munson x rich girl!Reader) Word Count: 5.6k

Steve Harrington was kind of an asshole.

For as long as you’d known him, he’d been a bit of a dick. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, depending on who you asked, you’d known him your entire life. You grew up together, neighbors, with parents who, in their own way, were best friends - if either of your parents were capable of such a thing as friendship. And because of that, you saw a side of Steve that few others had ever witnessed.

There were moments where you saw the softness, the honeyed sweetness, that shimmered through the cracks in the facade he crafted for himself - beneath the hair and the smirk and the snarky quips. Moments where the real Steve, a tender-hearted, well-intentioned sweetheart who was always on the verge of getting it right but never quite managed to make it, lurked beneath the heavy crown he wore.

Just as there were moments when he saw beneath your own carefully crafted persona. He was the only only person who had ever seen the worry, the sadness, the deep-rooted yearning for something more that was buried beneath your walls of ice. He saw every impossibly strong, deeply felt emotion that lingered beneath your careful composure, your even stoicism. He saw the real you, not just the Ice Queen cloaked in department store dresses and expensive perfume.

Only, neither of you acknowledged those moments.

It was an unspoken pact, one you’ve honored since thirteen when you both realized that being popular meant more than being nice. You both pretended that you were still the same vapid rich kids you’d always been, unburdened by a world built to cater to you.

Even if that was no longer true. Even if it hadn’t been true in a very long time.

Either way, you didn’t mention his newfound soft spot for a strange, ragtag group of children and he didn’t mention the fact that he knew the hickey just beneath your jaw was from none other than Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson.

Just as you had nearly every weekend for the past six months, the pair of you sat in the backseat of his BMW after yet another party that neither of you particularly wanted to attend. It had long ago gotten old, pretending to enjoy the self-involved prattling of your former classmates - their bragging about taking on the family business or which colleges they’d be attending in the fall, snide remarks about Steve’s lack of direction while conveniently ignoring the fact that you were the only one with an Ivy acceptance - and you couldn’t help yourself as you huffed.

“Tommy and Carol are the worst. I swear, if I have to hear her bitch about his inability to make her come or him make another stupid fucking dick joke, I’m gonna scream.”

For as long as you could remember, you’d wanted to tell them both to fuck off, to disappear back into whatever hole they’d managed to claw their way out of, but Steve reveled in their following, once upon a time, anyway. Now, he looked almost resigned to their existence in your lives as he frowned.

“She told you that?”

“Won’t stop telling me that,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes as his hand fell to your thigh, fingers idly tracing the bare skin just beneath the hem of your skirt. “I would tell her to break up with him but, honestly, they totally deserve each other. May they spend the rest of their lives making each other completely fucking miserable.”

It was only in these moments, hidden away in the thick of the trees near Lover’s Lake, that any glimpse of your real selves began to emerge. Your annoyed huffing, directed at the awful people you found yourself surrounded by, and Steve’s tender touch as he shifted closer and carefully brushed a lock of hair from your neck. Neither of you mentioned it, too lost in your own little world, but it never escaped either of your notice.

Still, Steve hummed dutifully. “Totally,” he agreed, “told him she cheated on him with Billy but he called me a liar.” He paused for a moment, shifted just a touch closer - his jean covered leg pressing into yours, body warm even in the cool air conditioning - before he changed the subject by asking, “New perfume?”

“Everyone knows about her and Billy. But, like, who hasn’t Billy fucked at this point.” Steve leaned in, nosed at the curve of your jaw, and you hummed. “Mom brought it back from that last conference they went to. Said I needed something more mature before I leave for school.” You left out the part of the conversation where she went on for nearly an hour about how much of a waste it was for you to even consider college in the first place when you were meant to marry someone of status - someone like Steve - and tilted your head to allow him more room.

“Smells good,” he complimented. “Like oranges or something.”

“Or something,” you mumbled agreeably, shifting against the seat to make yourself more comfortable as he began to press his mouth to the sensitive skin of your throat. “What’re you doin’, Stevie?”

“Giving you the attention you deserve,” he answered, never missing a beat and only pausing to nip at the pulse point. “Can’t have you unfucked in this skirt. That’d be criminal.”

As if he sought to make a point, Steve’s hand began to drift higher up your thigh, fingers traveling a well-worn path and ghosting over bruises left in his wake after last Saturday’s party at his own home. Again, he decidedly avoided the few extra spots that lined your thighs - the bite mark he would see when you parted your legs, in the shape of a certain metalhead’s teeth, and the hickey you’d been left with at the juncture of your thighs - as you laughed.

“Should call Hawkins’s finest,” you teased, grinning when Steve huffed a laugh.

“They’d send Callahan,” he mused as his fingers dug into the plush of your thigh and pulled you closer, encouraging you to climb onto his lap. “Would love to see him try to figure out what to do with you.”

“And you know what to do with me?”

Steve’s smirk was obvious, clear even as he nipped at your skin. “‘Course I do,” he assured you, settling back against the plush of the seat as you shifted in the small space and settled on his lap. “I know exactly what to do with you.”

“Prove it.”

The challenge hung in the air for a moment, thick even in the cool interior of his car, and gave you the briefest respite to study him. Soft brown eyes were blown black with lust, a darkness that you sometimes found yourself grateful for the chance to witness, and his hair had begun falling in his eyes. His cheeks were tinged pink and you knew that his lips would follow soon. 

Steve was beautiful, a work of art in the dim moonlight, and your heart beat just a touch too fast for something that was supposed to be casual as you waited for him to take the bait.

Before you could tease, attempt to bring some levity back into the moment that suddenly seemed too intense, Steve’s large hand found the back of your head. He pulled you in with a practiced ease, a touch that betrayed just how comfortable you were with one another, and pressed his mouth to yours.

Whereas Steve’s facade was all flash, easy confidence with nothing to prove, his kiss was almost desperate. There was the knowledge that he was good - he’d earned it, sought to learn exactly what you liked and adapted quickly - but beneath that, there was a desire to make the moment everything you could want. He kissed you with an urgency you could never quite understand, almost as if he wanted to savor the moment because he feared it may never happen again, but you knew that couldn’t be true.

As reticent as you both were to delve into your true selves - into your true feelings - you knew that this would happen time and again. It would happen until one of you inevitably broke the other’s heart, and maybe even after.

Still, Steve kissed your with more passion than you ever could’ve expected.

From your position on his lap, skirt bunched around your waist and hands falling into his hair, you could feel the growing bulge in his jeans. There was a slight rocking of his hips, something you might’ve dismissed as an attempt to get comfortable if you didn’t know him so well, and you still managed to find yourself surprised by just how much the little things turned him on.

“Girls like you,” he rasped, breaking the kiss before you could even think to, “just need to be fucked dumb. Be all pretty and cock drunk. Made into that pretty little trophy wife you swear you’d hate to be.”

The way he spoke was so casually condescending, a little mean in the way he’d discovered you liked, and you felt your cheeks heat as you squirmed on his lap. He knew - knew that your mother hated your ambition, swore you were purposely sabotaging her attempts to marry you off, including the few attempts she’d made with him - and smirked when you shot him a half-hearted glare.

“You can pout all you want, but that’s what you need, right?” His hands fell to your thighs, raking up the soft skin as your own tangled in his hair and tugged. “To be taken care of, to be fucked like you deserve.”

“Don’t think some hotshot husband would care enough to fuck me like that,” you countered, swallowing hard in an attempt to maintain your composure as his fingers trailed higher. “Would never come. He’d be too focused on fucking the secretary ‘cause she won’t be upset when he gets off and she doesn’t. But that’s why the trophy wives fuck the pool boys and tennis coaches, I guess.”

Steve hummed his understanding - had his own firsthand knowledge of both your father’s affairs, knew just what kind of men he was surrounded by now that he was old enough - before tipping his chin to glance up at you. “Guess you’ll have to look harder to find someone worth your time, then. ‘Cause this pussy’s too good to be wasted on some dickhead who won’t appreciate it.”

“Steve.” His name came out softer than you intended, a near breathless sort of whine that betrayed you - more than the growing patch of slick clearly visible against the light pink fabric of your panties - and he hummed.

“Don’t worry, babe. You know I’ll take care of you.” Though Steve could be an asshole when he wanted, he was nothing but a giver when he settled between your thighs. There were moments where you worried, secretly feared this might be the moment he decided to be selfish and leave you hanging, but more often than not, you were the one to tap out first. And any argument you could’ve formed died on your lips as he ordered, “Just shut up and sit pretty for me, yeah?”

Despite yourself - despite the part of your brain that wanted you to argue, to fight back and tell him to go fuck himself - you melted into his touch as his fingers ghosted over the fabric between your thighs. You heard him sigh, felt the warmth of his breath fanning over your mouth as he refused to put more space than necessary between you, as his gaze met yours.

“Next time, I’m fucking you in my bed,” he decided, gaze flicking back to where his fingers hooked into the soft material and dragged it to the side. “Can’t taste you the way I want in here.”

“Can’t keep saying shit like that,” you mumbled, nails biting into his skin as you gripped his shoulder to keep yourself upright. “Gonna make me think you actually like eating pussy.”

“I do,” he admitted, grinning when you rolled your eyes. “Like eating yours the best, though.”

With that, Steve’s fingers swiped through the slick gathered between your thighs. His thumb caught on the sensitive bundle of nerves and his mouth returned to yours, eagerly swallowing the soft noise of surprised pleasure you released.

Each swipe of his fingers was easy, almost lazy. There was a practiced ease there, a lover’s knowledge of your body - absent any of the almost nervous exploration of the first time - and you forced yourself not to think too hard about that fact as his tongue swiped at the seam of your lips.

The small space was cramped, not the easiest to maneuver, but it was familiar.

Though sometimes familiarity equated to boredom, routine, Steve’s touch was anything but. Every swipe of his fingers through your folds, every brush of his thumb over the aching bundle of nerves, was electrifying. He had you teetering on the verge of begging, eager for him in a way you’d never been for anyone else - almost anyone else - and you knew he could tell as he finally gave you something more.

Two thick fingers, skilled and steady, pressed into you. They stretched you - never quite enough to fully prepare you for the impressive length hidden beneath the denim you knew you were soaking through - in a way that had your breath catching in your throat and your heart hammering in your chest. Steve knew exactly where to press, fingers finding that one spot that made you see stars, and you could feel the twitch of his mouth as he refused to allow you to pull away from the kiss entirely.

“That’s it,” he encouraged, tone so smug it made you realize why so many were eager to brand him an asshole. “C’mon, babe, the sooner you let go, the sooner I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

Despite your conflicting emotions - the desire to hit him, to call him an asshole and tell him to just get on with it; the desire to kiss him, to tell him that you only wanted this, him for the rest of your life - you settled for the middle ground and allowed yourself to sink into his touch.

Those murmurs of encouragement, almost reverent in a way that you hoped no one else had ever heard, had your mind blanking and your chest heaving as you focused solely on the press of his fingers. His pace was perfect, steady and even and never too much - always too much, always enough to make you wonder how you ever thought you could be fine with losing this someday - and you would’ve told him as much if you were capable of speaking without admitting that you were afraid you could love him for the rest of your life.

Instead, you settled for sinking your nails into his shoulder, for tugging at the soft strands of his hair, as he nipped at your skin. He sucked a mark just beneath the one you knew he’d seen, despite your attempt at concealing it, and that was enough to throw you over the edge.

Steve once admitted to loving the noises you made, promised they turned him on rather than weirded him out - something you only admitted when he asked why you were so quiet, refused to let you come until you explained yourself - and you knew you wouldn’t have been able to quiet yourself even if you’d tried as his fingers worked you through the first orgasm of the night.

Knowing him, Steve wouldn’t stop until he had you desperate - he liked to see your tears, watery eyes and mascara running as you finally let down the walls he’d only glimpsed behind - and that seemed to be the case as he resumed his pace the moment your breathing began to even.

“Steve,” you huffed, your best attempt at something resembling normal, though you could hear the whining edge to your tone. “Fuck me,” you demanded, or at least attempted to. “Fill me up. So big, always feel so full when you’re inside.”

It was a low blow, an attempt to appeal to his ego - exaggerated, though it was true; he was the biggest you’d ever had - and he rolled his eyes as he nipped at your bottom lip.

“So fucking impatient,” he huffed, though he gave in, just as he always did. “Such a spoiled brat.”

With a tap to your thigh, you shifted. You held yourself upright, knees digging into the soft cushions of the seat, long enough for him to unbutton his jeans and shift his hips. As you had every time you found yourself in this situation, which was more often than not lately, you watched with wide eyes and bated breath as he freed himself from the confines of too-tight denim.

For years, you wondered why so many girls flocked to Steve when they knew how things would end. You wondered why anyone gave him a chance, why anyone came back when he forgot to call or blew them off for someone else, but you understood now. The look of him, the weight and feel of his cock in your hand as you reached out and swiped at the pearl of precum beading at the tip, was almost answer enough. The effort he put in to make you feel as if you were the only person that mattered, as if your pleasure were more important than his, quelled the rest of your doubt.

When you lifted your hand to your mouth, lapped the bead from your thumb and hummed, Steve groaned.

“Fucking tease.” There was no bite, no venom, to the words, but you still bit back your grin as he reached for your hip with one hand and held the base of his cock with the other. He dragged you closer, settled you firmly on his lap and swiped the tip of his cock through your folds, as he tipped his chin in a silent request for you to return your mouth to his.

As you pressed your lips to his, he used the grip on your hip to drag your hips down. It was swift, faster than he’d ever gone and almost desperate in the way he pulled you in, but you reveled in the slight pinch as he stretched you open.

There was something so overwhelming about feeling Steve so close, about having him in the way you dreamt of when you first realized how you felt about him, but you did your best to swallow the sudden lump in your throat as your eyes fell shut and your lips parted.

The pace always varied with Steve. Some nights were hard and fast, usually when you were both wound up after a particularly rough night; others were soft and slow, when the emotion began to overwhelm you, when the desperate need to be close outweighed the potential damage a confession might bring. And others still were somewhere in between, teasing and playful; an alternation between soft and hard, slow and quick - a way for him to make you beg, to bring you out of your head and into the moment.

Tonight was no different.

Though you sat atop him, Steve did all the work. His hips snapped, cock pressing into you with every movement, as his hands dragged you down. He controlled the pace, controlled the moment, and you allowed yourself to be fully present.

There was no facade in these moments, no pretending to be anything other than you were, and you imagined that was why you both returned time and again. This was Steve - giving, eager, desperate to be good enough. And you were just as present, just as honest; soft, pliant, warm and overjoyed that he still wanted you despite the surface ice that froze most others out. 

Neither of you could pretend here, with nothing between you but a few pesky articles of clothing. Neither of you wanted to.

And you knew, as your mouth returned to his, that despite the rough snap of his hips and the bruising grip he held on your hip, that your kiss betrayed you. Each swipe of your tongue, each breathless gasp you allowed him to swallow, told him exactly what he needed to know.

When his hand fell between your thighs, thumb pressing to the aching bundle of nerves, your mind went blank and your thoughts revolved solely around the beautiful brunette beneath you.

The curve of his jaw, the warmth of his eyes, the slope of his nose, the plush of his lips; Steve, Steve, Steve, was all that existed in your mind. The drag of his cock, filling you so perfectly that it almost seemed as if he were a missing piece, designed especially for you, was all that existed. And just as he wanted, it left you pliant in his hands.

“There we go,” he groaned, voice softer than you imagined he intended, as a hand lifted to your cheek. “Look at that, givin’ you what you need, hm?” When you moaned your agreement, lips pursing in a silent request for him to kiss you, Steve smiled. “Look pretty like this. Soft and fucked out for me. I’m the only one that can make you feel like this, yeah?”

It was the first confirmation that he knew, that he cared more than you thought he might, about the other man in your life. And though you wanted to tease him, to poke and prod and be a bit of a bitch about it, you could only moan your agreement.

Eddie was good, was more than enough, but there was something about Steve.

“Prove it,” he demanded, voice only just beginning to show his exertion as his hips snapped a little harder. “Come for me, babe. Show me how good I make you feel.”

As was beginning to become a habit, you gave in to him without so much as an attempt otherwise. The press of his fingers to your aching clit, the rough snap of his hips, the warmth of his breath fanning over your sweat slick skin; all of it was too much, just enough, to send you barreling over the edge for a second time.

With a cry of his name, keening and louder than you intended, you came and Steve followed shortly after. You could feel the warmth of his spend, the twitch of his cock, as you settled for a long moment, and felt the tears stinging at the backs of your eyes.

Without so much as a second though, Steve lifted a hand to brush at your cheeks, careful not to press too hard, and swiped away the few that had fallen before he pressed a kiss to your cheek and shot you a teasing wink.

“Love it when you cry for me, babe,” he teased, though you wondered if he’d have the same reaction if he knew the tears were, at least in part, caused by the overwhelming flurry of emotion that had you questioning everything you knew. “Seeing the Ice Queen melt never gets old.”

“You’re such a dick, Stevie.” The huff was as playful as you could manage with your breath still coming in short pants and your stomach churning with emotion but he grinned just the same as he helped you off his lap.

“Think you mean, ‘you have such a great dick, Stevie’.” When you rolled your eyes, straightening out your clothes and attempting to smooth your hair, he laughed. “Oh, c’mon, not gonna say thank you for the incredible orgasms? Your parents raised you better than that, babe.”

“They raised me better than to fuck some rich asshole in the backseat of his car, but, here we are.” Steve followed your lead and began to straighten himself out, zipped his jeans and at least pretended not to stare as you settled your panties back into place, the fabric immediately darkening with his spend. “Speaking of, you should probably get me home, Romeo. It’s past curfew.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Steve simply tugged you back into his side, hand cradling your jaw as you both attempted to catch your breath.

The lie was obvious - your parents didn’t care very much how late you stayed out, even less when you were with Steve - and you knew that he knew who would be waiting for you to return home. However, you didn’t expect him to ask.

Steve’s touch was soft, though you could see the distaste in the set of his mouth as his fingers brushed the two marks beneath your jaw - one fresh and one fading. “What’re you doin’ with the freak, anyway?” He’d never asked, neither of you made it a habit to pry into the other’s personal life, but he seemed unable to help himself as he continued. “You know you could just buy weed, right? You don’t have to fuck him for it.”

“I don’t smoke,” you reminded him, rolling your eyes even as you leaned into his touch. “Dunno,” you shrugged, avoiding his gaze as your hands worried with the hem of your skirt. “He’s exciting. Well, not really,” you amended because he wasn’t, “but he’s different. He’s just… Eddie. Doesn’t try to be something he’s not.” The slight was unintentional but you caught Steve’s slight wince, even as you barreled on. “And, I mean, it totally pisses off my dad every time he sees Eddie sneaking out because the guy’s a total fucking klutz and can’t leave without waking up half the neighborhood.” Steve scoffed, though you weren’t sure you were meant to hear it as he quickly covered the sound with a clearing of his throat before you added, as an afterthought, “And he listens to me. Not, like, pretends to.”

“I listen to you.”

While it wasn’t a lie - Steve listened, retained whatever you told him - neither of you were ever particularly honest with one another. Your conversations were never as serious as the ones you shared with Eddie, never as deep. For someone you considered your best friend, Steve barely knew anything about the real you. Though, that was as much your fault as it was his.

There was always a fear, deep and unfounded, that he might not like the real you. That if you were honest, that if you allowed him to see you for who you really were, that he might hate you. That he might leave. With Eddie, that didn’t matter very much. He was fun, a distraction, a taste of something forbidden and a glimpse into another life, but he was temporary. He could leave at any time, decide he didn’t like the real you and it might hurt for a moment but you would get over it quick. 

With Steve, it was your biggest fear.

Thinking that he might not like the real you, that he might suddenly change his mind and decide the real you wasn’t worth his time, was a fear that felt almost paralyzing. Steve’s opinion mattered, more than anyone else’s, so you held tight to the person you’d always been - the one he’d always at least tolerated - and never breathed so much as a word to the contrary.

Regardless, you humored him. “You do,” you agreed, lifting a hand to brush a strand of hair from his eyes. “But you kinda have to. And you also moaned Nancy’s name the first time we fucked so, like, that sorta cancels out some of the good stuff.” Steve flustered, cheeks flashing neon pink as he recalled the moment - a drunken hookup soon after his breakup, the first of what would become a regular occurrence - but before he could defend himself, you asked, “How’s that going, by the way? You figure out how to get her back from the creep?”

Steve shook his head, then, and sighed as he admitted, “Don’t think I even want to, anymore. Think I was just… She was right, maybe. We were kind of bullshit.”

The resigned misery in his voice was obvious, still upset by the hurtful declaration of a girl you knew he’d loved - in his own way, anyway - and you sighed as you rested your head against the seat cushion. “All of this is bullshit,” you shrugged. “High school, Hawkins, Indiana; none of it means anything.”

“We don’t mean anything?” Despite his best attempt at nonchalance, Steve sounded almost heartbroken - devastated to hear yet another person who meant something to him declare that he meant nothing - and you sighed as you grabbed the hand that rested on your thigh.

“You know I hate sentimentality,” you mumbled, unable to look him in the eye, “but you’re the only thing worth anything in my whole life. You could never be bullshit. Annoying, totally, but not bullshit. Never bullshit.”

There was a brief pause, a moment in which you both felt the weight of you admission pressing on your chests - stealing what little air seemed to remain in the car, windows still fogged and radio still playing too softly to really hear - before Steve swallowed. “You know I…” He cut himself off, paused and seemed to think better of voicing the thought aloud, before he asked, “You know, right?”

‘I love you,’ went unspoken, as it always had. It lingered, just beneath the surface, waiting for one of you to crack the ice and set it free. You knew, just as Steve did, that you were in something like love. Maybe not a love that would last forever, maybe not even a love that was ever meant to be, but it was there.

Warm, shiny and bright, and just waiting for you to stop pretending that things between you had ever been casual.

So, you nodded.

“Yeah,” you assured him, reaching for his hand to squeeze it gently. “I know. Me, too.”

Silence fell, then, thick and suffocating. It filled the interior of his car with a bitter chill and it struck you just how new that feeling was. It made you wonder what a future might be like, if you had one at all, and you found yourself mildly horrified at the idea that you could end up as either set of your parents. There was no world in which you could see a future without Steve at least somewhere in your life but there was no happiness in a world in which you both continued to pretend.

Either way, you were both stuck - caught up in a never-ending performance, an act for an audience that only existed in your minds.

What began as something effortless, something casual, had become so complicated that you no longer felt certain of much beyond the understanding that you loved Steve. How -  if you could love the real him, if you only loved the idea of him, if you loved the safety of him - was a question you had no answer to but before you could begin to even fathom it, the moment ended.

Steve pressed a final kiss to your mouth, bruising in a way that made your chest ache and your eyes sting with unshod tears, before he made his way to the driver’s seat.

And then, just as he had every night since he got his license, Steve drove you home. He pulled up to the door to let you out and didn’t mention the van he saw parked down the street. He squeezed your hand before you could step out into the night, three times in rapid succession, and lit a cigarette the moment you stepped out of the car. 

King Steve wasn’t one to fall in love easily, neither was the Ice Queen. But Steve Harrington wore his heart on his sleeve and that heart beat for you. Despite the distractions, the desperate attempts at finding something so disconnected from the cushioned prison of his gilded cage, he knew that it had been you all along. And just as neither of you mentioned the real people beneath the personas, neither of you mentioned just how real the love you shared had grown.

Loving one another, allowing yourselves to be vulnerable - to reveal the deepest, darkest secrets - was terrifying. Both of you feared what the other might think of the truth that lay beneath the crown so you agreed, silently, that to pretend was better than to face rejection.

So, Steve drove the few streets that separated your neighborhood from his and let himself into the empty house that meant nothing when his true home was likely sliding open a window to allow the only person he’d ever seen as true competition inside. And he wondered when the love of his life became a casual fling, when you both resigned yourselves to pretending that neither of you deserved something real - something true, something happy. He wondered why he carried on with it, knowing that in a few short weeks you would be in Boston, knee-deep in a life you hated, while he was stuck in Hawkins, wishing he’d had the courage to be himself and that he’d asked for something more than casual.

There was no satisfactory answer, not if he really thought about it, so he decided not to. 

The rest of the summer would be spent in the same way the last six months had. Steve would pretend to enjoy the parties and the attention of girls who only wanted him for his reputation. You would continue pretending that nothing fazed you, not even him. And things between you would remain casual. 

And he supposed that was just the way it was meant to be.

_________________________________________________

Author's Note: Did you know there's a chance black beans will catch on fire in the microwave? 'Cause I didn't. Anyway. This was my first time writing 'King Steve' and I had so much fun. This was loosely inspired by Chappell Roan's Casual. And my love of both Steve and Eddie. :)

Taglist: @x-avantgarde-x, @thisisparadisemylove, @eddiesprincess, @slvdsjjk, @munsonlover, @tasmbestspdrman, @urofficial-cyberslut, @jxngwhore, @hopelesslylosttheway, @meaganjm, @lazuli-leenabride, @deiondraaa, @piscesmesss, @glowyskiess, @kiszkathecook, @missryerye, @solarrexplosion, @ofherscarlettwitchways, @lovedandleft-haunted, @trappedinlimbo15, @sweetiekitten, @bookfrog242, @gwendolynmary, @sage-bun, @zealouslibrariesparadiselight, @castiels-lilass, @tojis-little-brat, @emmah787, @theworldsendxx, @asuperconfusedgirl, @flores-and-sunshine, @passi0np1t, @laurathefahrradsattel, @hellf1reclub, @slut4yourmom, @niko-04, @hannirose-loves-you, @mrs-eddie-munson, @screambabe, @vllowe, @ryswritingrecord, @cheriebondy, @ryswritingrecord, @thewitchofthewilds140, @bootlegmothman420, @maruushkka, @honeymoonpython, @keenesbeans, @jess-bonn, @sammysinger04, @khaoticken21, @denkis-slut, @spiderman-berries, @lotus-es, @amortiff, @stardust-galaxies, @ure-a-sunflower, @1-800-ch3rry, @ladybeewritethings, @ynbutbetter, @hunnybunimdun, @breathinfive, @s-u-t, @s4ntacarlal0stk1d, @rae-iin, @pennamesgame, @stefans-wife, @voldieshorts, @frankie-mercury, @bbymochi1, @serendiipty, @saturnsworld01, @eddiemunson1sstuff​, @valthevalkyrie-main​, @crying-caro​, @inglourious-imagines​

[reallyromealone]

May I request Leona K. x male reader? Reader is like Isabella Madrigal from Encanto. He is florokinetic, is beautiful and graceful in every way, and has a sass streak. Maybe just enemies to lovers? Thank you, and take your time!

Title: careful it's carnivorous

Pairing: Leona kingscholar x reader

Fandom: twisted wonderland

Warnings:

Notes:

☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️

Flowers.

Everywhere.

God Leona hated spring, it was when his least favorite classmate was fully... Himself.

Everyone knew (name), his floral magic was like nothing anyone had seen before and annoyingly perfect as he provided professor Crewel a flower he needed through magic.

"We will be pairing our all in groups of two, the names for each group are on the chart by the door" Crewel said simply as the class ended, each student going to check theit name on the list before leaving "oh you have to be kidding" (name) grumbled as he looked at the chart, his name was right beside the most insufferable person at this schools, Leona Kingscholar. "You better pull your weight!" (Name) seethed and Leona rolled his eyes "why don't you stop telling me what to do?" He drawled out with a catty smile, (name) fuming before storming off.

Leona grumbled as he walked into the greenhouse, (name) already gone to work at collecting things "couldn't you just magic the supplies? Or is your magic just good for making flowers" Leona said mockingly and (name) rolled his eyes "it would be unfair of us to do that, I'm not gonna cheat my way through this" now it was Leona's turn to roll his eyes as he looked at (name) "what are we even doing?"

"Luck potion" an extremely difficult potion, one mistake and they wouldn't even remotely have time to make a new one with its fermenting process.

"You think we can handle that?"

"If you stop lazing around, we absolutely could" (name) was self-assured, as always and Leona scoffed at him "god you're insufferable"

"I can't, I'm sorry" (name) said over the phone, it was known in the Pomefiore dorm that (name) had a complex relationship with his family, especially his grandmother who treated him like a trophy of sorts "I-im sorry, I have too many commitments here"

Another engagement offer.

He wasn't some bargaining chip.

After phone calls, he often found himself sitting in the greenhouse alone, frustration and hurt seeped through him as he let his composure slip, god he was just so done.

Being the eldest of seven, the responsibilities fell on him aways and he knew he made his grandma upset when he chose night ravens college over royal swords academy but he did it because he wanted this school, it had what he wanted.

Leona sighed as he walked through the halls of the academy, doing the patrols before bed when he saw a familiar figure walk towards the greenhouse "oh?" Well tonight was sure interesting to say the least, after all... "Wow, the perfect one breaking a rule? Isn't this funny" (name) turned to see Leona smirk down at him "just... Shut up" (name) whispered as he stood up "you can be cocky and shit but just... Shut up for once" (name) whispered as vines grew around the garden "can't you just leave me alone for once?"

"Wow, wheres the bite you usually have? Come on, pretty boy" Leona taunted and (name) felt his patience wear thin "can you just fuck off!" He yelled as cacti grew around them, the two stunned "you can grow those?"

"Apparently I can" (name)s grandmother always told him he could only grow flowers... "So why are you out here, little Mr. Perfect?" (Name)s mood shifted as he glared at him "oh shut up, you lazy ass!" He spat back and Leona grinned, there was the snarky flower boy he knew and hated "god you can't shit your trap! God if you could use that energy for being a shit maybe use it for our project!"

"And maybe you could stop being so annoying for once and I would actually want to do it!"

"Asshole!"

"Priss!"

And somehow, (name)s foul mood about his grandmother was gone as the two argued down the ball and a tiny cactus with two flowers on it sat in the greenhouse.

The following day, Leona grumbled as he felt vines grab his ankle "hurry up before I drag you!" (Name) said as he strutted down the hall, looking flawless as Leona glared but followed, other students admiring (name) as he passed and bloomed flower crowns on each of their heads.

"(Name)" malleus said softly, staring down (name) as he and Ace were leaving the lab "Malleus" (name) said coldly, leaning back when malleus got closer "absolutely not, we are not doing this again" (name) glared and waved a bunch of flowers at his face as he and Leona went into the lab, locking the door behind them "I know he's insufferable but what was that about?" Leona stretched and (name) rolled his eyes, taking out their supplies from the small lockers they reserved.

"My grandmother tried to have me engaged to him, malleus was all for it but I said no because god if I have to hear about gargoyles one more time..."

"He never shuts up about them, also how is it I manage to show up to things before him!" Leona fired back as they started the project, both talking heatedly about the fae prince.

It was the first time they agreed on something.

After that, their conversations were less hostile and Leona actually found himself enjoying (name)s company.

(Name) walked into the greenhouse later in the afternoon and saw Leona sleeping in a sun beam, rolling his eyes at this (name) grabbed a notebook he forgotten and went to walk out but before he did... "He's sleeping, he won't know" and like that a leaf grew right where the sun was hitting his eyes.

Only Leona was awake and was smirking as (name) clicked the door shut.

After that, working with (name) was far more tolerable, the two actually not going at each other much to everyones surprise and when something strange happens... Rumors start.

"Apparently, you and I are engaged because you blackmailed my family" (name) teased as he looked over the sleeping hybrid "really? I heard we had a passionate makeout session after you confessed to me with a bouquet of roses" Leona said back and the two chuckled at the nonsense that their classmates came up with as they focused on their work-- well (name) did, Leona relaxed in the corner.

Then his phone went off.

Again

And again

"Hello grandma, yes I did hear--- well I am not interested in him! So I'm not marrying him! I don't care if he's a good connection!" (Name) angrily hung up And Leona raised an eyebrow "she sounds like a bitch" Leona said simply and (name) sighed "she isn't the best" (name) mumbled "she wants me to marry someone so she can get up in the social latter... But I would rather eat glass then be with the people she offered me to"

"Who would you want?"

"Someone who isn't pretentious, not going to put me in a box and doesn't make me act perfect"

"Act?"

"You think I want to be like this? Perfect? Unable to make a mistake?"

He just wanted to garden.

And that is when Leona fell.

(Name) was awkward after the project finished, looking over at Leona who was about to fall asleep but took notice of (name)s slight deflation "come on rabbit food" Leona grumbled as he dragged a confused (name) "where are we going?"

"Don't worry about it princess" (name) looked offended at the nickname, he was a prince at least!

And that's when it happened, in a forgotten corner of the school.

A kiss.

"Still think you're an ass"

[glassartpeasants]

All The Things He Said

Eustass Kid x F!Reader

Warnings: Angst, reader got them mommy issues, Kid being a massive asshole, edited best to small brain abilities

A/N: Smaller text is the strawhats talking. Didn't have enough colors to separate them all equally. This is based off an ask but I accidentally deleted it. I feel like I kinda dropped the ball on this one but idk

~~~

It was much too quiet on the Victoria Punk. No yelling, talking, or sounds of footsteps, even. A pin dropping could sound like an explosion, with how quiet it was. The silence left a thick feeling of unease in your stomach, making you finally decide to leave your room.

Jumping out of bed, you stretch before putting on some clothes. Taking a step into the hallway, a gust of cold air hits you like a sack of bricks. It bit at your skin and left you shivering. Turning around, you grab the blanket that covered you and Kid’s shared bed. While it was huge, the fact it smelled like your lover made it worth the hassle to carry around.

Walking through the halls, the feeling of unease only grew in your stomach. The silence that covered the ship made your heart race. You were docked at an island, so everyone could be grabbing supplies or raiding, but they usually invite you.

Simply deciding to shrug it off, you walk towards Kid’s workshop to see if he is there. You haven’t seen him yet, and it was always a good morning when you got to see his cute, grumpy face. Knocking on the workshop door, you gently open it and see Kid working on his metal limb.

“There you are, baby! I was wondering where you were!” You got to put your arms around him, only for him to shrug you off. Shocked, you place your hand on his arm gently, trying to get him to pay attention to you. Only for him to throw off your hand as well.

“Kid? What’s wrong?” Kid didn’t even look at you when he responded.

“Fuck off, your annoying.” Your mouth turned agape at his words. What had you done to be talked to like this?

“Excuse me? What did you just say to me?” This time, Kid stops and turns to look at you. A different type of rage in his eyes.

“You fucking heard me. Go be a nuisance somewhere else!” A scowl appeared on your face hearing him. No way would you allow him to talk to you like this.

“Who do you think you are speaking to me like this? You may be my boyfriend, but there’s no way in hell I’m going to allow myself to be spoken to like this.” Crossing your arms, you only stared him down. Even when he stood up, towering over you, you still refused to back down.

“I think I’m your fucking Captain!”

“Oh so your Captain now instead of my boyfriend?”

“I’m not going to be a whore’s boyfriend.” Kid’s words made your heart stop, and your eyes widen.

“What? What did you just call me?”

“I called you a fucking whore. Are you too stupid to understand that?!”

“I understand what the damn word means! What I’m saying is, why the hell you would call me that!”

“You think I’m stupid?! I caught you all up on that man yesterday! Fukcing sucking on his damn face!” What on earth was he talking about? You were Hip all day yesterday! Both of you shopping at the plaza on the island! You even showed him an outfit you bought! Where was he getting all this false information?

“I was Hip all day yesterday! You can even ask her! Besides, what would I gain from that?! I love you! The only man I want is you, and the only crew I’d ever fight alongside with is yours!” A snarky laugh left Kid’s lips hearing your last words.

“Fight?! You don’t do shit! Me and Killer always have to save your dumbass cause your too useless to do shit yourself!” A silence fell over the two of you. You can feel your lips tremble and your words dying in your throat.

“I don’t even know why I’m with someone so useless! There are plenty of other whore’s on this island who have more talent than you!” His words felt like knives carving into your skin with every word. They were so filled with hate that you couldn’t be around him anymore. Turning around, you walk towards the door, trying to ignore his hurtful words.

“Oh yeah! Go on and walk away! That’s all your good at!” You heard him slamming the door behind you, and only then did you allow the tears to flow.

How could he say such things? He said words that he knew would hurt you. The cruelty of it was unbelievable. You knew he could be mean, but this was insane! The horrific incident made hot tears pour down fast along your cheeks. Is that how he truly felt? Did he really think you were useless this entire time you’ve been with him? Is that how everyone else on the Victoria Punk thought as well?

When you made it to your and Kid’s shared bedroom, you thought to yourself. Why would you stay with a man who could call you such words without a shred of proof and guilt?  Why be with a man who thinks you're lying no matter what you say? You already dealt with enough treatment like that before you met him. How could he let you leave all you knew behind just to leave you on with lies and false promises? Make you come with him to sail the sea, only for him to turn around and show his true colors? You knew people said he was a cruel man, but you never thought you’d see how cruel he was for yourself.

Grabbing the door handle, you knew that this wasn’t the life you were promised. Wasn’t the life you were meant for? You’ve always dreamed of leaving your island and exploring the world! But for that to happen, you had to be strong and let mean comments slide off your back if you wanted to be a pirate. But Kid was right. You were useless, so it would have never worked out in the end, regardless.

“Mom was right…dreams are for children.” With shaky hands, you begin to gather your belongings. Maybe going back home would have a better life for you planned out.

The sound of your mother yelling seemed to ring everywhere along the house as she screamed at you. Her face filled with rage as she stared at you with crazed eyes.

“I ask you to do one thing, and you can’t even do that?! How could I have had a daughter so useless that she can’t even make soup?!” Her demeaning words made you feel smaller than an atom.

“I’m sorry mommy. I couldn’t reach the pot to stir-”

“Your eight years old! When I was your age, I made my own food! My parents didn’t help me at all! How could you be so stupid!” Little hiccups escape from your mouth as you try to fight back tears.

“I’m s-sorry.” Your mother scoffed at your tears.

“God, I’m getting pissed off just looking at you. Get out of my sight.” Without another word, you start climbing up the stairs, your small hands struggling to grip the railing.

“Useless child.”

~~~

The moon was the only source of light as the crew of the Victoria Punk finally. After a full day of drunk laughter and raided goods, everyone was ready to call it a night. Yet, as soon as they boarded the Victoria, a feeling of dread filled everyone's senses.

Making the first move, Killer made his way to Kid’s workshop. Since you didn’t join the rest of the crew today, he suspected that you’d be with Kid. But to his surprise, when he opened the door, he only saw Kid working on a piece of metal.

“Oh (Y/N)’s not in here with you?” The sheer mention of your name seemed to spark hatred inside of Kid.

“No, she’s probably out fucking other men.” Killer’s eyes widen behind his mask. 

“What? What the hell are you talking about?”

“I caught her making out with another guy yesterday! That’s what I’m talking about!”

“She should have been with Hip yesterday. Are you sure that you didn’t see someone that looked like her?”

“Same clothes she wore that day! The same way she wore her hair and the same hair color!”

“Did you see her face?”

“No, she was too busy sucking that dipshits face.” There was something not right about the situation he walked into. In all the time he’s known you, the only man you made eyes to was Kid. The only man you let hug you was Kid. Everything was only for Kid. It just didn’t make sense for you to cheat.

“Did you talk to her about it?”

“We fought, and she walked away 'cause she couldn’t handle being faced with her actions.”

“What happened after that?”

“Don’t know, don’t care. I said my peace, and I’ve been in here ever since.” Something still didn’t seem right, so Killer thought it’d be best to find you and hear your side of the story. He knew Kid was act first, think later, which was the main cause of almost all your fights. Only after Kid calms down is when he see’s rationality. Even now, he still seems so pissed. It’d be best to find you sooner than later.

“Alright.” Closing the door, Killer made his way to your and Kid’s shared room. Normally after fights, he could find you in there. Kid would sleep in his workshop, and you’d sleep in the bed is how it usually was when a fight happened.

Knocking on the door, he’s only met with silence.

“(Y/N)? You in there?” Still silence.

“(Y/N)?” Carefully opening the door, Killer’s met with a half-empty room. No sign that you ever lived there in the first place. No misplaced shirt or sock, nothing. Closing the door, he went to your original room, and once again, no sign you ever lived on the Victoria Punk. The fight must have been much bigger than he thought.

If you weren’t on the ship, then where were you?

~~~

You couldn’t eat anything, no matter how hungry you were. Everything you tried to choke down always came right back up from crying so hard. The tears felt like battery acid against your skin, and it drove you mad. How can you cry over him after what he said? Telling you things that he knew would hurt you. Maybe you were a fool for falling in love like your mother said.

“Mom? Can I ask you for advice?” Standing in front of your mother, you feel her eyes pierce her soul.

“What? Can’t you see I'm busy?” The only thing next to her was a pack of cigarettes and a shell phone. Waiting for her ‘friends’ to call her.

“Well, I fell in love with this-” Your mother's laughter interrupted you before you could finish.

“Only fools fall in love! Is that what you are (Y/N)? A fool?”

“No! That’s not true!” A scowl appeared on your mother's face as she stood up quickly.

“Of course it is! Love is a waste of time! Love is for the pathetic worms like yourself! You think anyone's gonna love you? You’ve got nothing worth wild!” Tears start to slip from your eyes as you try to ignore your mother's words.

“Stop! It’s not a waste of time! Everyone has a chance at love! That’s what grandma says…” Your mother grabbed your wrist and brought you closer to her. 

“Grandma married an abusive drunk! She doesn’t know the first thing about love! All you are is a useless little girl who’s following dumb dreams!” Ripping your hand from your mother's grip, you start walking away. 

“Being a whore is the only way a man will ‘love’ you.” Her last words made you run to your room with tears flying off your face. Her words echo in your head no matter how hard you try to ignore them. Your mirror shook when you slammed your bedroom door shut. The vibrations had you look at yourself in the mirror.

A painful itch in your mind emerged as you started to wonder if you always looked like that.

~~~

Laying in the hotel bed, you stare at the ceiling as the memory ends as soon as it starts. The memories of your childhood started playing ever since you left the Victoria Punk. You didn’t realize that you never thought about the past when you were with Kid, but now that you were lying here alone in the dark, it was all you could think about. Knowing that now only made you angry. Without Kid, you couldn’t even think a positive thought? How could you let yourself depend on him so hard? Your mother would be ashamed if she saw you.

If she wasn’t already.

She wasn’t thrilled when you ran off to be a pirate with Kid. Screaming and yelling words that you couldn’t make out. If she had a boat, she’d probably would have come after you. A sight to see truly. But now that you made plans to go home, what would she do when you showed up back at her door? 

In 2 days, you’d be making your way back down to the south blue. You were from an island and known for their spices that you could only get on the island. That and the lack of protection from the world government. Many pirates hit the shores of your island, demanding the spices that were worth so much to be eaten by sea kings the second they leave the island. One of the cons to the spices was that it was a natural sea king attracter. It was always so gratifying to see asshole pirates get eaten,

But then Kid came along.

He was brand new to the pirate scene, but by god, he was making a name for himself fast. His bounty raises every new newspaper. It was exhilarating to see such action coming from your part of the sea. Even if it wasn’t the greatest type of action.

The moment a woman started yelling about pirates, you went to see who it could be. You loved to get a closer look at life on the sea. At least the decent ones you did. But you can remember the moment you caught Kid’s eyes.

Hiding behind a tree in the woods was the perfect cover to spy on the pirates that you heard just docked. The hiding spot never failed you before, so why would it now? A gruff voice caught your attention. Looking at the source, you feel your heart skip a beat. 

There he was. Eustass ‘Captain’ Kid.

His red hair seemed to shine in the sun, and it looked softer than silk. His skin was kissed with beautiful freckles. The way he carried himself among his crew made you continue to look at him in awe. You’ve never met a man so breathtaking. There was something about him. You’ve heard the stories behind him. How the devil could be beautiful. Too much in awe, you failed to hear the conversation between the captain and his first mate.

“After we raid this lame town, we’ve only got a few more islands then we’re off to Sabaody.”

“Hmm…”

“What?”

“It seems we’re being watched.” Pointing to the woods, the masked man shows his captain a figure behind a tree.

“Go ahead, Killer. I’ll take care of it.” Nodding, the man leaves. Turning back to the woods, Kid uses his devil fruit powers to see if he can’t just bring the figure to him. 

The moment his gaze locked yours, you feel your face burn. His eyes were like a memorizing fire that you couldn’t look away from. Only when your ring starts vibrating is when you realize you’ve been truly caught.

“Oh no-” Pulled forward, you go crashing into the captain’s grip. His frame towered over you as he looked down at you. You couldn’t help but continue to admire him.

“Care to tell me why your spying on me, woman?” Not fully registering his question and thinking out loud, you respond.

“Your even prettier up close.”After the words left your lips. You slam your free hand over your mouth and look at him with wide eyes. Admitting that you found a ruthless pirate pretty to his face might be the best way to be put 6 feet under. His silence only made you panic more.

“I m-mean, hey can I get you a drink? There’s a good bar in town!” Kid laughed at your stumbling as he brought your rings closer to his face. It wasn’t the prettiest, but it was still worth some berri’s.

“How about you give me this ring instead? Looks like I could get a good amount of berri’s for it.”

“Oh yeah, sure! Here!” Kid lets your arm down but keeps a firm grip on your wrist. Taking off the ring, you place it in his hand. His smirk made butterflies rumble in your tummy.

“Now show me that bar you were speaking of. Need some booze for the trip.

“Of course!” Your willingness to please him made him conjure up thoughts that are less than innocent. If you were so excited to please him, maybe you’d be a good fuck. Been a minute since he’s had sex. Plus, if his eyes were still working, that was a wedding ring he stole from your dainty little hand. Fucking a married woman could be an experience.

“What’s your husband gonna think when he sees that his little wife no longer has her ring?”

“I’m not married! Not yet, at least.”

“Yet?”

“My mom sold me off to marry a rich man’s son so she could stop living in poverty and pay back her debts to the bank.” Instead of the chipper tone you held only moments ago, your voice filled with sadness.

“Thought that shit was only for princesses and princes. Have you seen the bastard?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Oh, is he ugly? Shitty luck for you, huh?” Kid’s laughter made the situation feel a bit better. It’s shocking you become so obsessed with a man you just met. But you wouldn’t trade the feeling for anything. This simple jolt of joy was something you wished would never end.

“I can help you carry your booze to your ship! I can also get a good amount of spices that won’t attract the sea kings!” your words seemed to pique Kid’s interest. 

“Is that so? Tell me more about these spices. And leave nothing out, got it?”

“Sure thing, captain!”

The memory only made rage flood through your veins. Rage on how you could have been so desperate. How willing you were to commit a crime and please the most dangerous new-gen pirate at the time. God, you probably sounded so pathetic. If you could go back in time to tell yourself that you were acting stupid, you would.

His baseless accusations were appalling even still thinking aboutit. He never even heard your side! Just assuming the worst of you was his first thought? It hurt so much to think about. You always gave him the benefit of the doubt, so why couldn’t he do the same to you?

~~~

Killer searched all around the town for you, yet he still couldn’t find you. The lack of success started to frustrate him as he walked back to the Victoria. 

It’s been a full day since you’ve disappeared. Worry that something happened to you started to settle within the other crew members. Heat and Hip offered to check out the small forested area of the island. Wire said he’d search the port more and keep an eye out in case you forgot something and came back to grab it.

The whole situation still didn’t make sense to Killer, no matter how hard he thought about it. It made no sense to anyone on the crew. He didn’t dare ask Kid any more questions since it was obvious he was still overwhelmed with rage.

No matter what Kid said he saw, there was just no way in hell you had cheated on him. From the first time Killer had seen you, he could see the lovestruck look you had in your eyes when you stared at Kid. Years later and you still look at him like that! Cheating wasn’t something you’d do. No way in hell.

Kid’s immediate reaction, while it shouldn’t have shocked Killer, did. He recalled when Kid took you on the team without even seeing how you fought or if you could even fight. He’s never seen him do anything like that before and since. Killer saw how lovesick Kid became only weeks after you joined. Kid would tell him how proud he was when you were getting better at fighting. Or how he loved being the one to protect you.

No matter what, Killer had to find you. The aftermath is something that Killer knew would lead to flames.

~~~

Using the new clothes you bought and wearing a mask, you managed to sneak into a salon to get a haircut. Changing your appearance slightly would allow you to go outside without the worry of being recognized. It also gives you a breath of fresh air. A new look for a new chapter of your life. The chapter of your time with Kid was coming to a close. It hurt as you’ve never been happier than when you were with them. But who knows, maybe you’ll be even happier somewhere else. Only time will tell.

Your and Kid’s shared laughter echoed in your ears as you both ran to the Victoria Punk. Well, he ran as he carried you on his shoulder. One hand full of raided goods and the other holding your legs. Both your hands filled with spices as you watch your mother and supposed to be future groom chase after you.

“Damnit, pirate! Give me back my wife!”

“Don’t you dare take her! She’s my key to getting out of this shitty place!” Their words sounded like babble compared to the sound of your and Kid’s laughter.

“No can do losers! I take what I want!” Hearing Kid say those final words made your heart explode. He actually wanted you! Your face felt like it was on fire as his smell overwhelmed your senses.

Something inside you told you, you were meant to be his. That even though you’ve only known him for a day, he managed to make your heart beat like never before. His voice made your legs jelly, and his sheer strength had you staring at him like he was the greatest thing you’ve ever seen. Everything about him had you in awe.

You weren’t even out to sea, but this is the happiest you’ve ever been! If simply meeting him made you feel so much joy, how could it be when you’d get to see him every day? It’d be a dream you hope you’d never wake up from.

“How does this look, miss?” The hairdresser turned you towards the mirror.

“It looks great! Do you have time for a color?”

“Actually, yes! Let me go get the color swatches.”

~~~

“No sign of her Killer. We checked everywhere.” Heat’s words only caused dread to fill Killer. Everyone’s looked top to bottom, and not even a trace of your existence has been found.

“You don’t think she’s already gone, do you?”

“Don’t say shit like that. Just…she’s here. No way she could’ve already docked a different boat.” Just then, a familiar-looking outfit caught Killer’s eye. Same hair color and length. Not wanting to lose you to the crowd, Killer runs up to you.

“(Y/N)! Where have you been?! We’ve been looking everywhere-”

“Hmm?” Killer stops in his tracks when you turn to look at him. But it wasn’t you. The person before him had a completely different face. He thought it was you! How could someone look so similar?-

“Did you see her face?”

“No, she was too busy sucking that dipshits face!”

“Oh no.” Looking down at the woman, all the pieces started coming together in his mind.

“Heat! Go grab Kid!”

“Okay?” Heat’s footsteps leave Killer’s earshot quickly. Turning his attention to the woman, he could see her nervousness.

“Listen, I know this is weird, but I need to borrow you for a second. You looked like my friend's girlfriend from behind, and he thought she cheated. I just need him to see your face. I promise I’ll pay you. All you need to do is just stay right there.” Confusion appeared on the woman’s face before a frown as she crossed her arms.

“Damn pirates. Always assuming the worst in people. I’ll do it, but I have one condition.”

“Condition?”

“Yeah, condition! I’d like to have a few words with your friend as it’s obvious he’s a fucking idiot if he can’t even talk to his girlfriend like a reasonable adult. And the pay better be nice.” The woman stood her ground as she grumbled out the last part. Killer wouldn’t blame her for not wanting to be a part of a pirate's relationship problems. While on the one hand, he knew that letting her say some choice words for Kid could end badly on her end. Maybe it’ll give him the punch in the head to realize his mistake.

“Alright, Killer, I got him.” Kid’s grumpy face and heavy footsteps didn’t go unnoticed by the woman, as he could see her body tense.

“What the fuck do you want?”

“It wasn’t (Y/N) you saw 3 days ago. It was her. She looks the same if looked at from behind.” Killer motions the girl to turn around, and she does with a huff before turning back around.

“Where were you three days ago?”

“I was out on the town with my fiance. We went shopping before going to eat at the ice cream shop over there.”

“Rough guess on time?”

“2:30pm to 3pm. Are we done with the questions now?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Killer can still see the woman standing in front of Kid with a scowl on her face. Guess she was serious about giving him a few choice words.

“(Y/N) would have been with Hip at that time three days ago.” Looking at Kid, Killer could see the gears turning in his head before his face went pale.

“We’ve searched the entire place, and there's no trace of (Y/N).”

“No one’s seen her either.”

“Well, look again, damnit!” Killer could hear the panic in Kid’s voice as he spoke. His eyes darting in every direction to try and find you. Heat and Killer’s eye exchange looks of worry seeing the state of frenzy their captain was sinking into.

“Your acting like she’d want to go back to you.” Kid’s eyes snapped to the woman who looked at him with disdain. The air turned tense as Kid’s rage felt suffocating to be near, but the woman didn’t back down.

“What the fuck did you just say?!”

“You got sand in your ears? I said that your acting like she’d even want to go back to you. Your stupid to think so.” Turning to Killer, the woman held out her hand for her payment. Without saying a word to Kid, Killer hands the woman money, and she makes her escape. Kid just stands there frozen for a few seconds before coming back to. 

“Don’t just stand there! Find her!”

~~~

“(Y/N) was it?”

“Yeah. Never thought I’d see a Strawhat here. Let alone a hopelessly lost one.”

“I’m not lost. I’m simply…enjoying the scenery?”

“Yeah, okay, swordsman.”

“Zoro.”

“Well, Zoro. What’s a strawhat doing here?”

“Beats me. What’s a Kid pirate doing here? More or less screaming and cussing out their captain in the middle of the woods while surrounded by their belongings?”

“Ex-Kid pirate. And let’s just say Eustass Kid lives up to the ‘most cruel new gen pirate’ allegations.”

You remembered the green-haired swordsman from Sabaody. He’s ten times more fit than the last time you saw him. It had you wondering what all the other Strawhats looked like.

“Who would have thought!” His laughter had your lips curving up to a small smile. It was a breath of fresh air to be smiling after 2-3 days of nonstop crying. You’ll probably be crying more today when you board the ship that’s supposed to take you home. The pain only three days in is insufferable, so you can’t imagine dealing with the pain truly alone in the middle of the sea while you're on a ship with strangers.

“They said dock C was where the Sunny is located.”

“Huh? Oh. Well, do you think you could get there yourself? I don’t remember which ship Kid’s is docked at, and I don’t want him to see me.”

“Probably. It’s over there, right?” Looking at where he was pointing, you see him pointing in the opposite direction. Sighing and letting out a silent cuss, you grab his wrist, frowning as you begin tugging him toward dock C.

“Oi woman! Where are you taking me?!”

“In the right direction of your ship! I just showed you the right way, and you were about to go in the complete opposite direction!” The sound of the wood creaking went ignored as you continued dragging the swordsman.

“God, where could that idiot be?!” A female voice hits your ears, causing you to stiffen. What if it was a crew member of Kid’s? You needed to listen again to know for sure.

“He’s always getting lost!” To your relief, the voice was entirely unfamiliar. You begin walking towards it and realize that a red-headed woman is coming your way.

“You know her?” You ask the man next to you as you point to the woman.

“Yeah, she’s our navigator. Nami!” Nami? The same Nami that used to have short hair and wore a t-shirt? That Nami? You almost didn’t recognize her!

“There you are! Jesus Zoro, can you not go one second and not get lost?!” Zoro rolled his eyes as you let go of his wrist. Now that he could get back, you can now make your way to your own boat.

“Who did you drag into helping you? She probably has a life unlike you.”

“She’s a Kid pirate-”

“Ex-Kid prate.”

“Huh? You must be new. I didn’t see you on Sabaody.”

“She’s the captain’s ex.” You look at the green-haired man before harshly hitting him.

“Oh, I remember you now! You look so much different than when I last saw you!”

“I can say the same for you. I’d love to chat more, but I can’t miss my ship back home.”

“Aw, shame! We were about to eat, you think you can join us? Least we can do for bringing back this idiot.” You were about to decline the offer as you weren’t in the mood to deal with many people, but your stomach growled loudly. Now you’d be caught lying if you said you weren’t hungry and declined. So despite your discomfort, you agreed. Free food, you supposed, especially nice when you haven’t eaten yet.

“Great! We’re not far away, so follow me!” Sighing quietly, you follow the woman without another word.

~~~

The feeling of guilt and disgust ate away at Kid as he began to tear apart the town. He should have known that you wouldn’t cheat. You’ve been with him since the beginning of his pirate life, and he thought you cheated without even listening to you.

He could still remember the look of horror and heartbreak you wore when he yelled and insulted you. He called you cruel names, and not once did you call him one back. Even through his temper, you never said a mean word. Sure, you raised your voice, but that’s nothing compared to what he did.

How could he even look you in the face? If you saw him, what would you do? Would you cry? Run away? Scream? All scenarios he knew would be negative. No way in hell you’d want to run to him after all the things he called you. Calling you the very things he promised not to call you after you told him your life before joining his crew. How could he fix a trust he worked so hard to establish, to begin with?

There were so many things he wanted to tell you. Tell you he’s sorry and that he’s an idiot. That you weren’t any of those things he said you were. He wanted to tell you that he loved you and beg for your forgiveness. That the first day he met you, he wanted you close. The way your first words to him were compliments and how you looked at him with admiring eyes.

Even when he slept during the time away from you after the fight, he was plagued by your heartbroken face. He’s never slept so shitty as he did when you were gone. His arms reached out for you only to feel the empty space next to him.

When he’d wake up, he could find dry tears stained into his face. And when he looked in the mirror, he could see the way his face was red and his eyes puffy. He caught himself calling out your name before remembering that he was alone. Whether he wanted to admit it at the time or not, the truth was he was miserable/ He couldn’t do anything in his workshop as he had no motivation as all he thought about was you and what you could have been doing.

Well, now that he knows that truth, he had to find you.

He’s been searching for what felt like hours. Destroying every building in his path just to find you. Yet no matter what building he broke down, there was no trace of you anywhere. It’s like you just disappeared. Vanished from the world and vanished from his life.

He couldn’t accept that you were gone. He wouldn’t accept it. How could he be the King of the Pirates if you weren’t there next to him? There’s no way he could deal with knowing what his actions had done and then go on to achieve something huge. You were supposed to celebrate with him.

“Kid!” Killer’s voice snapped him out of his destructive trance, making him turn to the man.

“What?! If you haven’t found (Y/N) yet, then I don’t wanna hear it!”

“There's a ship heading back to the sough blue in one hour. Me and the others believe she’s taking that ship back home.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?! Go see if she’s there, and if not, wait!” Killer sighed at his friend's words. He’s acting like you’re coming back willingly. What the woman told him earlier was right, even if Kid wouldn’t say it aloud. You’d probably rather sell yourself to the Marines than want to see Kid. But against his better judgment, he and Heat head off to the ship that could take you home.

~~~

“Shame you couldn’t stay longer! It’s nice to see and hear a new voice after dealing with Luffy every day.” You couldn’t help but laugh. It felt nice to feel something other than overwhelming sadness. Probably the most laughter that’d come out of you for quite a while. Especially if you were going home.

“Where do you plan on going next? I mean, I doubt you want to stay on an island with strangers.”

“Home. There’s a ship that’s heading to the south blue in an hour. I was gonna take it home.”

“Wow, that’s a long way.”

“Tell me about it. Not looking forward to the journey.”

“Oi Strawhat!” Both you and Nami turn your heads to see who could be yelling. Only last minute did you recognize the voice and the man running towards you. Quickly turning your head back around, you hope that your different colored hair would throw him off.

“(Y/N)! There you are! We’ve been looking everywhere!”

‘Shit. Just my fucking luck.’ You hear his footsteps stop right behind you. Even though Killer was innocent, you still wanted to ignore him.

“Have you been with the Strawhats the entire time? Actually, that doesn’t matter. What matters is that you have to come back. Kid knows the truth and is tearing the town apart looking for you. Literally.”

“Let him search. Let him wallow in guilt.”

“Listen, I understand your upset. You have every right to be but-”

“No buts! You know what he called me, Killer?! He called me a whore! Useless! I’m a useless whore to him! I’m not going back and living in skepticism if Kid actually loves me or not! Someone who loves someone wouldn’t say such words. So leave me alone.”

“(Y/N)-”

“You heard her! Leave her alone.” To your surprise, Nami steps in front of you. Dividing you and Killer.

“Strawhat stay out of this. It doesn’t concern you.”

“Tell me this, would you go back if you were in her shoes?”

“What?”

“Would you go back if you were in her shoes?” Killer stays silent before sighing.

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“Exactly. So why should she?”

“Kid knows about the boat that’s supposed to take you home. Wouldn’t be surprised if he’s beat us to it.” Killer’s voice makes your heart drop. How the hell were you gonna sneak onto the boat without Kid seeing you and causing a scene?

“That doesn’t matter anyway since she’s sailing with us now!” Your eyes blow wide at Nami’s words.

“You are?”

“I am?” Nami shoots a look at you before you understand the idea.

“I mean, yes, I am!” Crossing your arms, you look at Killer from behind Nami. You see Killer and Heat exchange looks. If Killer didn’t have his mask on, there's no doubt that he be rubbing his face.

“When the hell did you decide this?”

“Earlier today, actually!” It felt wrong to lie to him, but the idea of staying in the new world and continuing to explore started to grow on you. If Nami was actually thinking about letting you tag along with them, maybe you’d take them up on the offer. 

Instead of going home and most likely going to be married off again by your mom, you’d continue to be free. Be able to see things that child you never thought you would. 

“What should I tell Kid then? Cause we both know how he’s gonna react when he hears this.” Everyone went silent at the idea of coming up with a plan that would cause the least amount of damage to people and ships. Just then, an idea popped into your head.

“I’ve got an idea.”

~~~

Kid’s loud footsteps made the dock shake as he followed Killer and Heat. The two men told him that they saw you heading to dock C but lost you in the crowd. Hearing that, Kid made a mad dash towards the port to try and find you. You were still here, but he didn’t know how long you would be. He couldn’t afford to just miss you.

“This way!” Turning a sharp corner, Killer directs Kid to where they last saw you. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears as adrenaline was running fast through his veins. Flashes of memories with you invade Kid’s mind as he fears that if he misses you, he’ll never be able to create more.

“Wait, I think I see her!” Killer stops suddenly as he points out to the sea. Fear clutches Kid’s heart when he sees you leaning against the railing of the Strawhats ship. Kid rushes to the dock that the boat had just sailed away from moments ago. He looks on in horror as he watches the ship slowly move away from him.

“(Y/N)!” He can see your head turn, and both your eyes lock. A look of sadness and anger crosses your face as you look at him. His breathing loud as words start to stumble from his mouth. For the first time, Kid’s vulnerability was shown to the people of the world as he called to you.

“(Y/N)! I know now! I’m sorry for saying all those fucked up things to you! Your none of those things, I promise!” You said nothing to him, but he could see the small drops of tears rolling down your face.

“I’m a dumbass! I was made and said things I didn’t mean! Get off the ship and come back! I’ll do anything!” Kid could feel his legs grow weak as the ship moved farther and farther away from him. For the first time in his life, he wished he’d never eaten that devil fruit. His only true enemy stood between him and you.

“I need you to come back! I can’t be King of the Pirates without you! I love you! I love you so fucking much that you not being next to me sounds like an eternal hell! I need you with me!” Kid could only feel his heart shatter when you stopped leaning on the railing and turned away from him, walking out of his sight. It felt as if time had stopped and the world stopped turning. 

Kid’s legs finally gave out as he fell to his knees. The world turned deathly silent as he couldn’t even hear his own heartbeat. All he could hear and feel was the tears that slid down his cheeks and the sound of his last words being the only words he could hear as he watched the ship sail away,

“Please…don’t go…”

[deadlynavigation]

Satan's My Fuckbuddy

Fandom: Helluva Boss

Pairing: Blitzø x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, violence, brief mention of smut in the beginning and end.

Author's Note: Sorry Lilith. More of this to come, guys. I may turn this into a series.

I do not own Helluva Boss. Pls don't come after me.

Do not copy, plagiarize, or translate any of my works or their assets.

Navigation

"You know, you could've told me you and the big boss himself used to fuck," Blitzø pants, his head turning to look back at the city's firey ruins.

"Oh, sorry," you respond breathlessly, a sickly sweet smile spready across your face. "I wasn't aware that little bit of information would lead to us running from a burning city after almost being banned from everything Hell has to offer!" By the time you finish your rant, you're almost screaming, and Blitzø's put another foot of space between you two.

A boom sounds from behind you, followed by a large crash. "How many times have I told you-" your boss yells over the noise. "Sleeping with rich assholes that live six fucking rings down never ends well!"

"You think I listen to your rants about rich assholes?" You shout over another boom. A boom which sounded way too close for comfort, so you pick up the pace, Blitz doing the same.

You're almost to the elevator that will ship you back to Imp City. The isolated building that holds such transportation is in your line of sight, only a few yards or so away. And if your luck holds, you'll get there with minimal injuries-

It's too easy. Blitz's eyes widen as he realizes this, and turns over his shoulder to glance at the literal devil chasing you both.

Shit.

"Time to start sprinting, toots." Blitz turns back in a panic. Even from your peripheral vision, you can see his wide eyes and anxious expression, which prompts you to look where he had seconds ago.

What you see has you moving faster than you've ever moved before. Lucifer himself is on your tail, his devil form taking the place of his standard, human-like form. His feathered wings are spread, blocking the red sky from view. His horns are larger than usual, and his face could make any sinner fall to their knees.

Hot.

After a moment of staring at Lucifer in all his glory, you stop running. Your breaths slow and your heart stops trying to escape from your chest as you blink slowly in realization.

Blitz turns around once he notices the absense of your footfalls, only to find you completely still with Satan quickly catching up.

"Are you fucking insane?!" Your boss shrieks.

You shake your head. "Nope, just realistic. We're not gonna outrun the Devil. Why try and get in even more trouble with him?"

Blitz looks at you like you just said Moxxie was right about something. After he stands like that for a long second and comes to terms with your statement, he sighs, walking up to you as he rubs his forehead.

"If we get killed by this guy, you're paying for my next horse-riding lesson."

Your snarky response is droned out by Lucifer dropping to his feet in front of the both of you. He looks ready to rip every limb from your body and then feed them to the other's corpse, but he restrains himself, taking a deep breath and folding his wings in.

"Have you any idea what you've done, imp?" He says in a deep voice, his every syllable sending chills down your spine.

Blitz goes to respond, but you know him talking will only worsen the situation. So, you jump in, shoving a hand over your boss's mouth and speaking.

"Yes, My Lord. And from the bottoms of our hearts, we apologize, but we really must get going-"

Lucifer holds up a hand, commanding your silence. He blinks at you, tilting his head and furrowing his brows. His true form slowly melts away as he studies you.

"Y/n?" He questions softly, as though he thought he'd never see you again.

You purse your lips, half in fear, half in annoyance. Lucifer has always done things on his own time (not including his fall, of course), and that doesn't seem to have changed.

"Yup." You eventually force out. The Devil blinks one more before a smile starts to dawn on his face.

"Heyy, how've you been? Long time no see," And he brings you into a bro hug like you're long-lost friends and not past fuckbuddies.

"I've been great," you respond hesitantly once he releases you from the hug. Maybe being casual, playing it cool, will release you from the Devil's clutches. "Got another job, made some new friends. What about you?"

Lucifer beams with your reciprocation of friendliness. "Yes, I've heard of your developing social life. Al says hi, by the way. And life is great; Charlie's in on another project- I think it's a hotel -and no demons have caused an uproar. It's practically paradise."

"Good, good. Listen, it's been a good chat, but could we schedule for another time? I kinda have somewhere to be." It's not a lie- you do want to get home soon. Where there are no Satans chasing you down for small talk.

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Do you still have that number? I'll text you the address of a nice little tea shop for next week."

"Looking forward to it," You laugh nervously and start backing away, grabbing Blitz while doing so. "All righty, I'll see you then!" And with that, you're off, walking as quickly as possible without running.

It's silent until you get into the huge elevator that'll ship you back to Imp City. Blitz is next to you, giving you a weird look.

"What?" You snap.

"Was he good in bed?"

"BliTZ-"

"Hey, he almost blew us up. I deserve an answer, at least."

You sigh. "Is that what you think?"

"Yes, it is." Your boss responds, slouching into his spot as though preparing to wait you out.

The elevator is quiet while your resolve holds for a solid two seconds.

"He did this thing-"

"Fuck yeah he did. He's Satan." Blitz interrupts.

You hit him with a glare. "Do you want this or not?"

"I do, I do. Sorry. Go on."

You stare at him a moment longer before continuing. "This thing with his hands-"

"I'd be disappointed if he didn't."

"BLITZ."

What do you think? Series or no? OR I branch out and do Hazbin Hotel oneshots? Let me know!

[ittybittylee]

Jax Tickle hcs 💜✨

- Lee

* Even though he may be an asshole he tends to get very flustered while being tickled. This is because he’s not used to anyone seeing him all soft like that

* thus he feels embarrassed

* And does not wanna screw up his “Reputation”

* Will instantly melt in your hands

* He has that cackling yet snarky kinda laugh?? the kind that gives you butterflies

* He has very ticklish feets ///that are also very fluffy

* His neck, stomach and hips are also very sensitive, even a slight poke could send him into a giggling fit

* He lets on that he absolutely HATES being teased and will do everything in his power to push you away to prevent you from teasing him

* Making Eye contact while tickling him makes him even more flustered

* But he secretly enjoys it, makes him weak in the knees

* Kicks his feet when tickled

* Will not ask for you to stop because he “refuses to beg anyone” so once the damage has been done he’ll just accept his fate

* ^If you confront him about it he’ll get all embarrassed and start shouting at you to “shut up!”

* Will 100% use the excuse “how could I have of asked you to stop when you were nearly tickling me to death?! I couldn’t even breathe nonetheless get a single word out!”

( he could’ve easily IF he wanted to )

* He absolutely adores aftercare, he’ll snuggle right up in your lap and rest his head on your shoulder

* He loves having his ears rubbed, especially if you hold his head while doing so

* Whether or not he’ll admit it, he loves every minute of it

* “You tell anybody that I’m ticklish and you’re dead. and that’s not a threat, that’s a promise got it?”

- Ler

* Extremely teasing, smug mischievous ler

* perfect balance between rough and gentle tickles

*is a mean ler

* Absolutely LOVES getting a reaction out of you especially seeing you blush

* Laughs at you while tickling because he thinks it’s funny to see you completely helpless

* Finds it hysterical when you snort/squeak/wheeze and will bully you for it //affectionately

* Will do everything he possibly can to get you all flushed and embarrassed just because he knows how much you hate it

* Will not hesitate to absolutely wreck you

* Can and will most definitely tease you especially with baby talk

* This mf will purposely taunt you by saying “Cootchie cootchie coo” over and over again to embarrass the living hell out of you

* You can beg for him to stop but he won’t, not until you’re all wheezy and breathless

* Loves to taunt you by saying “I’m gonna getcha” in a very sinister voice and at the most random times

* you can tell just by the smirk on his face he’s planning an “unexpected” tickle attack

* His lanky fingers make it easier to scribble away into those hard to reach sweet spots ( inner neck, etc )

* Finds it hilarious whenever he gets a reaction out of you

* “Heh what’s the matter? Does that tickle~? Too bad because I’m gonna do it anyway~”

* Will never let you live it down. Ever.

* Will wiggle his fingers at you on purpose just to make you flinch or blush

* Great aftercare, loves to hold you

* Asks you if you’re okay, hoping that he didn’t take it too far

* He makes sure you’re okay before carrying on with the rest of his day and acting like nothing ever happened

* will threaten to tell the others that you’re extremely ticklish but won’t actually tell them

[butterbabyflapjack]

Brat

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

sexual content, sexual tension, dominant ghost, power dynamics, messy feelings, voice kink, mask kink, glove kink, dom/sub, indirect daddy kink, biting, rough sex, begging, brat breaking, voyeurism, just a dash of possessive choking, forced eye contact, oral fixation, tactical gear kink

You’ve been acting like a brat, and Ghost has had enough of it.

“You can consider this punishment. Can consider it me spoiling your bratty behavior. But you wanted my attention, and you’ve gotten it. So tell me now if you don’t want me to bend you over this desk and fuck you until it breaks, otherwise I’m taking what I want from you, and you’ll accept everything I give like the greedy fucking whore you’re pretending so hard not to be.”

He pauses, as if for your reply, though your tongue won’t move, your heart won’t beat; all of you tangled and drunken and warm; your stomach clenching almost painfully tight as you hear his hoarsened hum.

“I need an answer, love.”

“I…” you swallow, hard. Unable to deny that your panties are steadily soaking through for him, though still you somehow manage to sputter, “I’m not a whore you fucking asshole!”

You hear the smirk behind his mask. “You will be for me.”

Chapter 1

You don't know why you're doing it. It's childish. Stupid. Unprofessional. Reckless. And yet, despite all of this, your smart mouth persists.

You’re not usually so abrasive. You’re usually a fan favorite on the team. Someone your comrades like to be around, whose skill they can depend on. Like 141’s own lovable, murderous teddy bear, complete with her own fully functioning rifle. But maybe the other guys locked in this shady apartment with you – who’ve been locked up in here all week with you – are right. Maybe you do have a giant stick shoved far too deep up your ass.

For the past few days at least, you've had a fucking attitude problem. You'll admit it to yourself, even if you’ll deny it to anyone else who has the balls to mention it.

In those first few days of everyone being locked up in here, waiting on word for your mission’s next move and that eventual moment you’ll finally be allowed to leave, the rest of your team had more or less ignored your souring attitude. The snarky comebacks. The utter disrespect. The numerous started arguments and absolute cheek. The never saying ‘yes’ without first saying ‘no’ and ‘fuck you’ and whatever else a few dozen times beforehand. It’s a bunch of men locked up in here with you, and it only took a day of this before they started goading that you "must be on the rag, but would you mind chilling the fuck out, sweetheart?"

Lucky for you, it only took one bruised jaw at the edge of your irritated fist to keep that idea from spiraling, and you still don't know why Soap let that slide. He must like you a hell of a lot more than anyone who deserves being treated this way all week, because he could have easily retaliated. You may be the best sharpshooter in the room, but you're physically the smallest and weakest, and you damn well know it. But even this isn’t enough to curb your newly sharpened tongue, apparently.

Seriously, what is wrong with you? These guys aren't just your teammates, more than a few of them are your friends. People you know well, and who know you – who you’ve been through thick and thin with. So why are you treating them like their very existence annoys you?

You're overworked. That must be it. You’ve been running too many contracts, barely sleeping a single night in one corner of the world before shipping off for the next. In fact, the week this started, these past few days that you’ve been holed up with Ghost, Soap and a few others in this over-cramped Amsterdam apartment, all of you just killing time whilst waiting on word for your next move – this is the longest you’ve spent in one place in a long, long time. And something about that makes you antsy. Like you need to keep moving. Like you’re running from something. And damn, apparently you need therapy or something; someone to crawl inside your head and tear out all this pent up angst, the hurt, the annoyance, the sleepless nights plagued by every horrid thing your line of work brings. All that anxious rage, the never being able to turn off, to relax. 

You need an actual full night’s sleep. That would fix everything. You think. You hope. Or maybe, as Soap so lovingly put it, you need a swift, firm kick up the–

You're startled from your thoughts as a graveled voice calls your name from the doorway of the room you’re lounging in. And when you jolt and twist toward it, eyes wide upon being caught so off guard – because since when are you, one of 141’s stealthiest, caught off guard by anything? – you see your Lieutenant standing there. Ghost. His tall, imposing outline, black shadows with a skull’s face. Leaning one dense shoulder along the frame of the open doorway as he watches you, as if he’s been here watching you for a while now.

Shit – how long have you been trapped inside your own head? 

“Not gonna greet me with a friendly fuck you, then?” he wonders, eying you idly.

Your surprise eases itself into a lowered scowl. “Not a friendly one, no.”

You hear his raspy tsks of the tongue. See his head just barely shake in disapproval, his eyes still trained to you. And even though you know you’re being rude – and to Ghost, no less – it still manages to bother you. “You know I’ve saved your sorry ass more than a few times, don’t you?”

“Just like I’ve saved yours.”

“So, what then?” he asks, growlishly bemused. “I s’pose in your eyes that gives you permission to act like a sour fuckin’ tart?”

You don’t. You don’t think anything should make you act like this, but you still are, and you’re still irritated. Though he doesn’t exactly wait for your thoughts on the matter.

"Come with me," he says. No prelude.

"What for?" you wonder back, because of course you do - and even at this distance you see his lashes lower across his dark eyes.

"We need to have a little chat."

His tone, low and jagged, is amiable enough; though its undercurrent not to be trifled with. 

You trifle anyway.

“Kinda busy right now,” you point out, even though you’re not, and with how you’re lazing on a moth-eaten divan with perhaps the most boring reading material known to man - an outdated British arms manual - this is more than obvious. “We can chat later.” You flip to a random page, even though you feel annoyance fizzle off of him. Even though your gut clenches at your disobeying what isn’t exactly an order from your Lieutenant, but is certainly far from a suggestion. Somehow still having the gall to feel nervous, despite your brazen cheek, to so temp the ire of so dangerous a snake.  

You hear his heavy steps coming toward you, and suddenly your book’s torn from your fingers, tossed against the nearest wall, pages fluttering to the ground. And though you blink up in indignance at him, muttering out a petulant little ‘hey!’, that blunted look in his eyes otherwise silences your objections.

“We can chat now,” he says.

Though your eyes narrow, you don’t dare deny him a second time. “Fine, then. If I still had a book, I’d close it for you.”

“Well aren’t you just a doll.”

It takes a lot not to roll your eyes at his sandpaper-coarse sarcasm. “What do you want? Or did you come just to flatter me?”

“Not here.” 

He turns, his tactical vest shifting across the breadth of his sturdy chest, tugging at the fabric of his olive-green shirt, its sleeves rolled to half-length to reveal densely muscled forearms. Boots, gloves, mask; he’s ready to receive word that you’re all to head out at a moment’s notice – not that that moment seems likely to happen anytime soon.

When he doesn’t hear you scrambling up to follow him, he stops at the edge of the room, boots scuffing to a halt. Glancing back over one broad shoulder, eyes darkly held within the sockets of his mask. “Not a fan of repeating myself, sweetheart.”

You frown a bit at what feels to be his condescension, though you can’t deny the little thrill you get every time he calls you sweetheart, even if he just uses it to annoy you. From anyone else it’s annoying, but from him, it speeds your heart a bit, squeezes it.

You tell yourself you hate that.

“This apartment’s tiny,” you argue, unmoving. Nerves suddenly locking you in place, though you think you succeed in masking it. But that way he's watching you… It doesn’t bode well, not with your attitude. And yet you still can't seem to help yourself. “Here’s as good a place to talk as any.”

With one hand raised to shoulder height, he knocks the empty doorframe beside him with the blunted side of his fist. “No door. I don’t think you'll want anyone listening in on us. Not for this. But if you insist on being difficult…” He glances back, down the hall toward the living room, before turning back to you. “I can make due with an audience…”

Something about the way he says it has you jumping to your feet.

“Fine,” you mutter, shuffling toward him. Ignoring his throated hum that may as well be a chuckle – and you must look as rattled as you feel, to so easily amuse him.

“Well would'ja look at that,” he gruffs, “she actually listens. When she feels like it, that is." 

You want to protest that of course you listen to him – you’ve always listened to him. You may be having a tough go at it right now, but if he’s about to begin questioning your loyalty or commitment to the team, to him, you’ll punch him in the face just like you punched Soap – skull mask be damned. But you don’t punch him. You don’t even note on any of this. Because his dark eyes scanning across your face, as if silently assessing you; lingering for just a moment on your eyes, your lips… 

It's enough to inspire warmth creeping up your cheeks. To make you bite down all those arguments. 

Luckily, he doesn't appear to notice his unwanted effect on you; already turning away again. Because of course his little glances lead to nothing. They always lead to nothing, and you know deep down that’s a good thing, that it would undoubtedly make things messy, that any feelings you may have for him are stupid, so you try not to be disappointed by that.

"On me, then," he says, his every boot step echoing down the narrow hallway he leads you down, the commotion and conversation from the nearby living room growing more and more distant as you follow rigidly at his heel.

If he's ever noticed any of the times he's pulled a similar reaction from you throughout these past few years you’ve known each other – stealing your usual snark, tugging flustered heat up to the very tips of your ears – he's never made note of it. Not even to tease you, and you're pretty sure he would. Well… he’d either tease you, or maybe he'd just completely ignore what you fear is your highly unprofessional, inexplicable, stupid attraction to him, thus bypassing any need as your superior to address it…

Shit… maybe he has noticed…

Gritting your teeth, you silently swear to better hide any feelings you may have for him. Especially since you can barely even admit to having them to yourself. And you don’t – not really – have feelings, I mean. Because it would be unprofessional. 

Being locked up with anyone for this many days can make things a little foggy – that’s it.

Though… that doesn’t exactly explain why you’ve caught yourself thinking about him, far less than appropriately, before this mission… 

And it doesn’t account for why you’re sometimes, more often than you care to admit, kept awake on night’s that feel far too long by what his husky voice might sound like, warm against your skin, whispering filthy, horrible things inside your ear. Why it’s always him in your bed, if only just imagined. Teeth tugging at your earlobe, hot tongue tracing its shape. Breath growing more and more unsteady as he tells you how sweet you taste. As one calloused hand slips down, slowly down along your stomach, down between your thighs; his other hand forming a possessive shackle round your throat. 

Wow. And now you’re picturing all these sinful things whilst following the unfortunate object of your ardor, your fucking superior officer for christ’s sake, to wherever he wants to take you for his ‘little chat’. Likely about your recent attitude problems, if you had to guess – which you’ll argue you don’t have, even when you know you really do. So maybe you deserve to be chewed out right now about it, but that doesn't mean you’ll take anything he has to say lying down.

Seriously, what’s come over you this week…? You undoubtedly respect this man. No one here, and especially not him, has really done anything deserving of your ire. And he wasn’t wrong – he’s saved your life. Many times. He’s your friend. Your mentor. Your superior. You’re intimidated by him, too – and why wouldn’t you be? If anyone says they aren’t intimidated by Ghost, in even the smallest of ways, they’re a bold-faced fucking liar. 

He must be leading you to his office; which is a lenient term for it, seeing as how it’s just another cramped room inside this stuffy apartment that he’s set up camp in and brushed all the clutter off the desk of.

Maybe you should’ve just let him finish reprimanding you in the cramped study he found you in, but it’s a little late for that – he’s already striding into his office, leaving the door wide open for you to follow him in. Which you do, even though the room feels suddenly like a trap. Standing tall with indignant pride as you slip inside, despite also feeling like a mouse. Pausing just beyond the doorway, fingers curling and uncurling at your sides. Glancing from a few overstuffed bookcases lined against the walls, to the messy futon Ghost’s been sleeping on that’s stuffed in one corner, before your eyes slowly draw, magnetic, to him. Watching as he prowls around the desk, his desk, which he’s dragged to the center of the room; its formerly stacked boxes and useless knickknacks replaced with maps and various electronics and tactical equipment.

There’s no chair behind it. It seems he’s merely decided to stand there, behind his desk, just to make you feel smaller by staring up at him from the other side of it. His gloved fingertips lightly tracing across a few loose dossiers, attention flitting over them, before his kohl-rimmed eyes flicker up to meet yours.

“Shut the door.”

chapter 2

chapter 3

chapter 4

[queenklu]

Seeing AI discourse about writing college papers reminded me of the time I got Called In To A Professor's Office over a paper I wrote that he thought was plagiarized.

See, the thing I had realized about myself by that point was that I am...VERY BAD....at reading the assigned books. I have every intention of doing so while in class, but the instant I'm out of class the book no longer exists (what adhd). So by the end of the year I would always wind up getting screwed over in the book buy-back with books I'd literally never cracked the spine on, because it turned out speed-reading sparknotes could get me through class discussion and I'd developed a System(TM) for panic-writing an essay the night before.

This system was: find an online pdf of the book. Skim. Read summaries. Pull quotes from pdf. Bullshit. Estimate the page number for any citations because no one actually checks those, and use the publication data from the syllabus for the works cited. This works Very Well if you are, like me, a sarcastic asshole who knows teachers want to read an entertaining essay instead of yet another regurgitation of whatever sounds academically "best."

So here's this history class, which actually turns out to be an english class in disguise, and we are told to read and write an essay on The First Autobiography Ever Written in the English Language, which just so happens to be about a lady who had FOURTEEN kids, suffered a psychotic break, and spent the rest of her life campaigning to become a saint.

It's called The Book of Margery Kempe. I cannot express to you how smug I am to find a pdf of the exact same copy we'd been told to buy, down to the same publishing house and year of publication. I won't even have to bullshit page numbers.

...It's written in Middle English.

Here begynnyth a schort tretys and a comfortabyl for synful wrecchys, wherin thei may have gret solas and comfort to hem and undyrstondyn the hy and unspecabyl mercy of ower sovereyn Savyowr Cryst Jhesu, whos name be worschepd and magnyfyed wythowten ende, that now in ower days to us unworthy deyneth to exercysen hys nobeley and hys goodnesse....

This is fine, College!me thinks. A little tedious, but clearly the entire class has successfully done the reading enough to talk about it, so it must be doable. They probably had discussions about the language and I forgot to pay attention.

So I write the essay, pulling quotes from this middle english pdf that I can only half read, but that I can certainly form opinions about. Is it my best essay? No. Is it snarky? Yes. Is it in MLA format? That's mostly what they'll be checking for.

Then the Professor pulls me aside after class and asks to speak with me in his office. I have another class that I have to go to, and because I'm commuting in to college I won't be back on campus until two days later; he says that's fine, and all of this is settled and we've parted ways before it hits me how fucking fucked I am.

It must be the book.

He's going to call me out on not buying the book.

Can he tell I didn't read the book?

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

And I have two days to stew in it.

By the time our meeting rolls around I am a Mess. He is going to fail me. I am going to die. If I open my mouth at all I will burst into tears. Perhaps there is the slimmest chance if I act Normal this will be fine??????

P: So I read your essay...

Me: *using my Normal face* ⊙.☉

P: ...and I'm just wondering...

Me: ⊙.☉'

P: ...where you got the quotes?

Me: ⊙.☉'''

P: .....because the version of the book we read....isn't in Middle English.

Me: ⊙.☉??????????

P: I actually thought you might have plagiarized it--

Me: ⊙.☉!!!!!!!

P:--but to be honest it's written so entirely in your style that it's impossible this essay is plagiarized.

Me: ........⊙.☉.....

P: .... Anyway.

P: Just wanted to chat.

P: Uh. You're free to go.

Me:

HERE'S THE LESSONS LEARNED:

Just buy the book Cite the pdf. The professors Do Not Care how you've read the book as long as they can plausibly believe you've read it.

Just read the book Listen. I wasn't going to get anywhere near an ADHD diagnosis until my 30s. And if they can't tell you didn't read the book, then is it really the same as not reading the book? I think Margery would agree you gotta make some shit up to get anywhere in life.

Being a sarcastic asshole in my academic papers saved me from a plagiarism charge.

[zyonsay]

Wildfire, Chapter Two MV1

Fem aligned people may read but not f3tishize my work!!

Summary: You almost scored a win, but Max wouldn't let that happen. The McLaren boys want to take your mind off of things!

Warnings: Swearing, Max is a bit of an asshole,Reader has anger issues, Slight Violence, Alcohol, Ki ki ki rah sweat sweat

Now playing: 'Monaco' by Bad Bunny

AN: This was a STRAIN! School is beating my ass recently and it's really difficult for me to get anything done BUT i really want to write this fic!

(Here is the previous chapter)

(Here is the next chapter)

The race season was in full swing, and you’d been doing well. Max had, as per usual, always taken the victory, but most of the time you were on the podium next to him. You were a great new asset to Red bull, and many of the fans seemed to like you. You started discovering more and more memes about you on Instagram and Twitter that would make you chuckle. (Or X? Man idk)

People saw you as a two-sided coin, since your charismatic, silly moments were accompanied by boiling, blood red rage when something messes up the race. Numerous fans compared you to Max when he first entered F1, calling you a “Smaller version of Mad Max.”

You guys’ interactions felt like witnessing two proud stags smash their antlers against each other. No full-on fights have ensued yet, but the tense feeling between you two can be felt by everyone from miles away. It was like the calm before a storm, electric energy surging through the air, waiting to strike when things get any more heated.

Your sassy, provocative nature could bring his blood to a boil easily, often causing him to glare at you from far away or leave some snarky remarks while passing by. This dynamic wasn’t optimal for Redbull, having two drivers who clash off the grid might also clash on the grid. As long as the situation wouldn’t get worse, they’d let you two entertain the fans bit more, but Christian kept a close eye on both you and Max.

Usually your bickering was harmless,

But today you could’ve strangled him right then and there in the paddock after the race. Luckily Horner got a hold of you and dragged you away, you felt like an angry dog being put on a chain outside the house by its owner.

What happened a few minutes before angered you deeply. Max profoundly refused to let you pass him, even if you had to brake to not crash into the rear end of his car. You could’ve had the first place if it weren’t for him blocking your way. Saying you were enraged was a pathetic understatement. You were steaming with rage and wanted to smash his head against a wall.

You, Lando and Oscar were strolling towards an Ice cream truck that Oscar had found on google maps. The race weekend was over but many of the drivers decided to stay a bit longer in the beautiful city. Tough it was extremely hot, which was the reason why Oscar and Lando wanted to go for Ice cream, what they didn’t tell you tough is that they wanted to distract you from your conflict with Max.

After paying for your Ice cream, you three made your way to a bench, sitting down and enjoying your refreshments. You chose pistachio ice cream, savoring the sweet, nutty taste. “Have y’all heard about the party tonight?” Lando glanced at the buildings nearby, enjoying the fancy exterior, thinking about snapping a pic for his .jpg account. “I mean, we all know that there will be one, but I didn’t catch any specifics.” Lando now looked at you and Oscar. “Danny told me about it, it’s in the grand Casino at eleven O’ Clock. I really want to go, but I wanted to drag you both with me. Are y’all coming?” He mustered up his best puppy eyes and began pouting. A hearty laugh escaped you, almost causing you to drop your ice cream. “Sure dude! I can’t wait to have some fun.” Oscar grinned, agreeing with what you said. You guys spent some more time shopping and checking out some must-see sights of the city. Lando bought Oscar a little Koala plushie with sunglasses calling it "Oscahs Doppelgänger.” You really liked hanging out with the two McLaren boys, spending time with them meant lots of joking and messing around.

“Hurry the fuck up Y/N, its almost eleven!” Landos voice rang over his obnoxious banging on the door. You rolled your eyes and checked your outfit one more time in the mirror before heading out. You were greeted with a friendly smile from Oscar and Lando who looks like he’ll bounce around the walls like a gummy ball. He could’ve well exploded on the spot with excitement. He and Piastri were both a tiny bit older than you, but Lando was still a kid at heart.

Lando, Oscar and you walked through the city, heading straight for the big, fancy Casino. Even from far away you spotted a familiar, smiley face. “Oi! Danny!” You waved at him, gaining his attention. He was smiling broadly as usual, walking up to your little group. “Hey guys! Looks like Lando managed to drag you along, eh?” He was obviously wearing one of his flash banging party shirts, it wouldn’t be Daniel Ricciardo if he wasn’t wearing something obnoxious, right?

The four of you chitchatted for a while, when Oscar asked: “Were you waiting for someone?” Daniel looked down at his wristwatch; it was already five past eleven. “I was actually. Me and Max wanted to meet up at eleven. Don’t know where he is, maybe he already went inside.” He shrugged, glancing you way as he noticed you tensing up at the sound of the Dutchman’s name. You definitely haven’t forgotten the race earlier that day. The guys stayed quiet for a few moments as the chilly night air blew around your legs, contrasting with the warm weather during the day. Lando was the first to break the silence. “Can we finally go in?”

Once you entered the gigantic building, colorful lights and the smell of overly expensive alcohol flooded your senses. A few familiar faces were dancing, drinking, and laughing, but there were also many you didn’t know. Daniel led the group towards the bar, buying you all a round of shots. “Gotta start the night the right way!”, he laughed before downing the burning liquid. The vodka fueled the sparks in your guts and turned them into a fire. You were going to have fun tonight.

Suddenly a loud voice appeared behind you. “Hey Danny!” You froze for a second before turning around and facing the man you’ve been wanting to murder since this morning. “Oi, Max! Thought I’d never see you!” Daniel abandoned the bar stool to pat Max on the back. Oscar, who was sitting next to you, turned in your direction and whispered. “We don’t have to hang around with him. Let’s just leave- “, you interrupted him, “No. Its ok.” You were too busy glaring at Max to notice Oscars worried expression, not that he thought you’d attack Verstappen out of nowhere, but he was concerned that a teasing comment from Max was enough for you to snap. As he later would find out, it was.

Max didn’t pay any attention to you, obviously not feeling as irritated as you were. The casino was warm from the sheer number of people inside, the loud music mixed with laughing and chatting. Daniel was going on about some experience he had the day before while exploring the city. You were halfheartedly listening to your friends rambling while you were observing your friends’ mimics. Your eyes landed on your fellow Redbull driver. He was listening carefully, asking a question every now and then. He then glanced at you quickly, catching you looking at him. Max then quickly looked away again.

After a while, Lando pulled you away from the bar and towards the dance floor. He was definitely drunk by now and was all giggly and happy. “C’monnnn, dance with me!”, Lando slurred.

It must’ve already been a few hours since you arrived at the Casino, but time flew by so fast. Oscar stated that he was getting tired and wanted to go home in the next hour or so, while Lando was as lively as ever and could go the whole night. You agreed with Oscar though, since you were tired and had an appointed Press conference for tomorrow. Daniel and Max wanted to stay a little longer but agreed to accompany you outside to say goodbye. Once outside, a cold shiver ran down your spine. The city was illuminated by bright lights and a howling wind was brushing through its streets. Daniel stopped, facing the rest of the group.

“We definitely gotta go out together more often!” Lando nodded enthusiastically, glancing your way as if inviting you to go out with him more often.

“Yeah, once Y/N doesn’t hold a grudge against me, I saw those glares.” Max laughed, but you couldn’t help but judgingly glance at him. His face was red and his posture a bit wobbly.

“You’re the one complaining about me during Interviews.” The venom in your voice was very apparent, you made no effort to hide your disdain. Max looked hesitant for a second before his expression hardened. Daniel seemed to feel awkward, not exactly knowing how to deal with you two firecrackers. Max focused his eyes on your face, not wincing under your glare. “And you were the one crying around about me winning this morning?”, he laughed again, seeking eye contact with the others as if to justify his words. The McLarens Aussie next to you looked deeply worried, as If he already suspected what happened next.

The blood in your veins began boiling, you could literally feel it. A heavy push from your side caused Max to stumble back. “Don’t fucking go there you dick. You just couldn’t handle me winning, right?” Your fellow Redbull driver was now shaken awake, glaring at you with a bitter look on his face. “Don’t get mad at me because you lost, fucking Dickhead.”

You were SO ready to ruin his stupid face with a good punch.

…but before you could actually get violent a certain Honey badger stepped in. “Lads, calm your tits! I think it’s best if we all go to our hotel rooms now.” Oscar was holding you back, worrying what would happen if he’d let go of the raging man in his arms. The other McLaren boy was standing next to you guys, unsure what to do. Daniel gave Max a heavy pat on the shoulder and gave him a serious look. “Let’s go get some sleep, buddy.” Max’s eyes never left yours, like a hunter stalking its prey.

But you won’t budge under him.

[blueberry-pride]

Referring to this~

OMG! I read the Q&A but IS IT TRUE? Im so excited 😳👉👈 Ummmm may i req then? Not for the event, but just a general req 😌 A scenario/hcs of Leona with fem!s/o where s/o needs comfort & gets spoiled cz she's having burnout due to all of the incidents on NRC~ I hope this is not too much, if u want to change the plot it's ok, thank u & have a nice day 😳✨

I See Right Through You...

Leona x FEM! S/O

warnings: leaning on to very angsty, cursing, personal issues

Berry: I'M FINALLY BACK AA-💀 just wrapped up some things and you should have some of the requests from the events roll around within the month or so 😣 I changed a bit of it but the overall theme is the same just something that hits a little too close to home ;=; Special Thanks to my lovely friends Len and Luna who helped me out with this one ❤️❤️

"This isn't me wanting some semblance of pity, You can keep it for all I care- I'm so goddamn tired but did I ever ask to be in Twisted Wonderland? Oh don't get me started..." "Did I ask to be Crowley's clean up crew? Did I ask to be in the middle of every. fucking. issue?"

"Sometimes I'd like to be the damsel-but sevens forbid the woman wanting to be saved from all the stupid stress of this world."

"Well I'm so sorry for complaining over a job I didn't ask for but hey- we're in a magical school full fun and dreams, cuz that's sure to make up for ALL the unnecessary emotional and physical labor!" Your voice cracked as you forced a cheery smile.

Leona wasn't expecting you to snap at him when he wanted to mess with you for just a little bit. He had observed you from afar for quite some time now. And most importantly, he wasn't a stranger to people putting up a face for other's sake.

His emerald gaze would glint over your figure as he studies the creases in your eyes from all the work you've been doing. He'd always wondered how much you could take, often times giving you snarky or witty advices in hopes to get you out of your doormat cycle.

He admitted what the Head-mage was doing is a bit too far. He was kinda impressed on how you pushed on with that fiery and stubborn heart of yours.

A sadistic part of him wanted to see when you'll break

He wanted to see you bite back

He anticipated it even more when multiple students come to you for help increased by the day;

You nodded along as Ace and Deuce were once again asking help in doing their chores back at Heartslabyul, you laughed it off as one of their usual antics.

You happily agreed when Kalim invited you to one of his many celebrations despite just finished with your cleanup at Ramshackle, your smile didn't reach you. Those glassy eyes of yours, shifting downwards to hide the reluctance.

It was an asshole move of him in all honesty.

Not lending out a helping a hand but he knew you were capable. For fuck's sake you got him AND his dorm to help you out during Azul's little "tantrum".

He wanted you to overcome this on your own. However, he had an oversight on how much you can take on the world alongside his bullshit attempt of support.

Leona had happened to pass by a class with the door wide open, his lions ears perked at the ongoing conversation.

"Phyn, you're in our group." One student spoke up. "Oh hell yeah, thanks dude!" Another cheered, followed by the sound of a high-five.

"-And I guess that's everyone.. Oh (Y/N)..hmm I guess you and Grim would be a duo, every other's group is already filled up." "Uh.." You chuckled with a loppy smile. "No worries, at least I get to stay in my dorm this time." The class chuckled at your comment and nodded along. As the groups filed out chatting amongst each other, he took lighter steps walking closely behind you.

It wasn't until you reached the entrance of Ramshackle is when you finally noticed him. Which led to the situation right now. "Why the long face herbivore, where's the can-do attitude I know and adore~?"

Your hands balled into fists, shaking as tears were running down your eyes.

"This isn't me wanting some semblance of pity, You can keep it for all I care- I'm so goddamn tired but did I ever ask to be in Twisted Wonderland? Oh don't get me started..." "Did I ask to be Crowley's clean up crew? Did I ask to be in the middle of every. fucking. issue?"

'Shit...' He said mentally.

"Let's...do this inside. We don't want anyone gawking at ya like this." He laid a hand behind your back inside and joined you not before he scanned the area for any curious on-lookers.

He leaned against the side of the wall of the living room, listening to your continued rant. Throwing hands and even had the strength to throw away the innocent coffee table in the middle, Its legs breaking into splinters as soon as it hit impact onto the cold hard floor. "-WHY IS IT ALWAYS ME WHO HAS TO FIX THINGS?" You exclaimed towards the pillow you threw towards the ground.

"Helping fix things is nice and all.." You sniffled. "But is it really so wrong to want that shit in return?"

He knew it was bad but he wanted to see how far you're flames would burn him. He wanted it to hurt-what you've been going through, he knows he can take it.

"You're ranting to the wrong person, go off on Crowley, yell at your classmates for ignoring ya. Tell that red-head and blue-haired friend of yours to fuck off and do their own stupid chores." "Be fucking selfish for once herbivore, Treat yourself to a nice nap-"

"-Oh what? like you? I'm not you Leona." You retorted back. "For fuck sakes you were born here-you were supposed to exist in this plane of existence while I got chucked out of mine." "You say I exist here but I'm one of the least wanted given my 'cheery' attitude. At the very least I know when to stand my guard." You huffed as you sat on the couch, tears still spilling from your eyes. "Is this your way of helping me? because I could clearly feel the love right now..." Leona let out a dry chuckle as he walked over to you. His imposing figure casts a shadow over you but as you gaze at his eyes, there was a lingering feeling of warmth. "Dont be like me." He shook his head. "Sevens, I hope you don't end up like me, but what I'm trying to say is..." His voiced trailed as he looked at your shaking form.

A memory sliced through him for a second. For a brief moment he saw his little self all those years ago in the visage of you. "In a campus full of these jackasses in NRC-including myself sometimes, I... I see right through you." He awkwardly patted your back. "I know it sucks but don't do that shit to yourself where you thought 'hey, I know who to look for if I'm in a room full of folks I adore, but who would look for me?'" Leona had a distant look as he stared at the broken table in the middle of the dorm. "Look for yourself first, look for that little corner of your room to be selfish with what you want to do. Worry about the details later." You cleared your throat as you steal a soft glance at him "You may not be the best and most unlikely to look for advice." The air seemed to change as the both of you share a soft laugh. "But you get right to the point...even though you could've done something much earlier." "What's the fun in that?" He raised an eyebrow. "Besides, You don't need a king's help in chess, a queen...has all the moves she needs."

Leona was surprised to hear your melodic laughter, belting out through your still falling tears at his small comment. "Oh my God Leona you did not just-" You wiped a tear as you smiled at him. He felt a flutter in his chest from the way you're looking at him now. "Well you did just say, I'm not the best." He smirked.

The tense feeling in his shoulder now dissipated as he settled himself on the couch strangely close to you, a tiny voice inside him wondered why. Seeing you smile even though you just murdered the poor coffee table not too long ago is a sign to him he did his job.

It's certainly weird but it's you. People may not look for you or choose you in a room full other characters from their lives, but you can trust that there's always a lion beastman just out in hallway, willing to stand with you through it all.

[greencheekconure27]

I will try to formulate this better at some later point in time, but:

One of the things I love about Artful Dodger is that they could've very easily looked at the character concept and made Jack Dawkins into a Dr. Asshole a la Gregory House* but they just ... didn't.

The first surgery scene already subverts it.

He may be a snarky, cynical not-so-former thief and an adrenaline junkie, but he's never a jerk to his actual patients (with the brief exception of Sneed after the duel) and is in fact protective of them.

If anything he reminds me more of Dr.McCoy.

And I love it all the more because of his contrast with Belle. Belle who while very well-meaning has a tendency to forget about the patient as a person vs. a steppingstone in the advancement of medical science (which in a way includes herself as well). See their respective reactions to Rotty's surgery or Charlie's infection.

Jack is compassionate and pragmatic and has a greater appreciation for the preciousness of life I think but also has a tendency to settle for less because of this and his past life experiences, whereas Belle is innovative and has excellent theoretical knowledge but has a tendency to rush things in the name of progress.And I think this urgency and ambition and need for distance is also a byproduct of her growing awareness of her own condition and the limited time she has left.

(* and I'm saying this as someone who likes House MD)

[miseries-mistress]

TEMPTATION OF THE UNATTAINABLE | CAPTAIN REX

GIF by kamino-coruscant

Synopsis: You found yourself in the training room on one of your rare days off, not with your lightsaber or the Force but with a blaster. The unfamiliar black, sleek metal was heavy in your hands as if death itself weighed on the trigger. You didn't practice with such a weapon; too barbaric for your tastes, but after a comment Fives made, you wanted to prove him wrong. Blame it on your pride, but you were determined to land a hit on the droids, only, Rex finds you before you can do so. 

Warnings: female reader, innuendos, flirting, teasing, fluff. W/C: 1838

Notes: i've had this in my drafts for two months now, i finally finished it and edited it (repost)

star wars masterlist

"You know, I'm surprised the great general can't shoot a blaster." You lower the training blaster, looking over your shoulder at Rex entering the training room, his bucket tucked snugly under his arm, still in full armor.  

"Can it, Rex," you snap, and he only chuckles in reply. You turn away from him, adjusting your stance as you raise the blaster in steady hands. Anticipating recoil this time, you shoot. It nearly misses the center of the training droid's head, and you sigh. 

"You look like you're struggling over there," he comments half-heartedly, leaning against the durasteel wall. You spin on your heels, narrowing your eyes at the infamous captain. 

"Rex," you snarl in a warning he does not head but instead strokes your fury with bated breath.

"What? Need some help?" he taunts, and you have half a mind to give him a little push with the Force if it means silencing his snarky attitude that he seems to have only with you. Admittedly, you admire him to a point beyond the relationship of captain and general, but that attitude...you could do without it.

"You know the answer to that." There's that edge in your words, the threat behind them that Rex can't help but stroke. He doesn't know why your bite to every teasing remark riles him as much as it does, but it's addictive the way you push back, makes him feel alive, and he can't get enough of it. 

"I want to hear you say it."

"Sadistic piece of shit," you growl, glaring at him. 

"Now, that's no way to talk to your captain, especially since you are in such dire need of assistance." Dealing with Anakin's ego is better than this, you think sourly.

"You're an asshole."

"So I've been told."

You huff, rolling your eyes as you stare at his satisfied features. You muster up all the scraps of pride you have left, salvaging what you can before you give in. "Please help me, captain." 

His eyes sparkle with pride at his accomplishment. "See, that wasn't so hard now, was it?" 

"I hate you," you mutter defeatedly as he approaches you. You feel him behind you so close you can feel his force signature radiating off him like an aura of warmth as he takes his place at your back.

"No, you don't."

Kriff, has his voice always sounded so attractive? It was so smooth and oh-so delightful, you're sure you could never get enough of it.

"May I, general?" 

"Just call me by my name, captain, since we're past professionalism at this point," you reply sarcastically, and Rex fights off the temptation to grin, opting for a more teasing tone. 

"You as well." 

He steps forward, so his armored chest is pressed flush to your back, and the chill from the plastoid seeps into your Jedi robes. You can feel every divot and curve grating against your attire and pushing into your spine, sending an aching pressure through your body. 

His gloved hand slides over your waist, and you freeze at the contact, your body stiffening in his firm grasp. 

"This okay?" he asks, his tone mixed with mischief? Lust? You couldn't tell. His mouth is close enough to your ear that you can feel his warm breath fanning over the shell of it. 

Your mouth dries at his words, and you lick your lips, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. "Y-yeah."

Rex takes your breathless voice as a sign to continue, silently relishing his ability to make you stutter because Maker knows how long he's waited for an opportunity or excuse like this to touch you. To render that pretty mouth of yours speechless, even if it's to help with your poor aim. 

His foot slides your feet to the side so they are parallel with your shoulders, and your mind wanders to where else he might spread your legs– Focus, you internally reprimand yourself for letting your thoughts descend into something so vulgar and indecent. You're a Jedi, for fucks sake, and even though you've long since abandoned the rule on attachment, it was entirely unprofessional for you to think of your captain this way. 

"Knees bent mesh'la," Rex instructs, his breath ghosting over the column of your neck before he pauses, his body growing taut. There are a couple of beats of silence where Rex can feel his heart hammering out of his chest. You don't react, at least not visibly, to the nickname, and he internally grumbles at his slip-up. He doesn't focus on it too much, considering you don't seem to understand the meaning of the word, but he chastises himself for his lack of restraint for letting something as crucial as that slip from his typically tight lips.  

You chose not to say anything about his sudden discomfort despite your curiosity but instead concentrate on his nickname. Mesh'la. It ran off his tongue like honey, sweet with a hint of something more. It obviously was Mando'a; as far as you knew, every clone spoke a bit of it. However, you never imagined it would be spoken to you, especially by the man you so readily esteem, so what did it mean?

"Oh, right, sorry," you trip over your words as you bend your knees to his will. You feel Rex's arm leave your waist as he shadows you, enveloping his body impossibly closer to yours. His gloved hand runs over your skin, working out the rifle's position to the target droids. He's focused. You can tell that much by how his hands remain steady and focused like he is in his nature. 

It's the familiarity of the weapon, the ease of it, that helps distract Rex from how close he is to you. Every movement he's made in the last five minutes has been driven by the singular purpose of being closer to you, and there was no way in karking hell that Rex would fumble and let this prime opportunity slip away from him. No way in hell.

"Right there, grip it a little tighter, atta girl." You swallow the growing lump in your throat as a shiver runs down the length of your spine at the utter husk in his voice. It's a low, seductive rumble, so chilling yet inviting, as his lips hover a hair's breadth away from your neck, where your pulse is frantically thundering under your skin. You try, you really do, to push out the thoughts of his soft lips caressing your skin in a gentle kiss, peppering your flesh with his devotion. Instead, you feel your face seethe with heat that engulfs your cheeks and rises all the way to the tips of your ears. Shyness is now muddled with arousal, rendering you unable to form a single strand of thoughts to combat your mounting embarrassment. You can almost feel the stupid smug smirk on his lips as his hands tighten their hold on your waist.

"What? Cat got your tongue?" Bastard. Stupid bastard knows what he's doing to you, yet his advances won't push past the edge of flirtation. No matter how much his mocking remarks and smug rejoinders irk you, you want him– need him- to take a leap off the edge. It's something you yearn for down to your very being for him to cross that path of no return. Relinquishing your friendship would either be the end of it or the start of something new. The risk was high, it always was, but one of you had to make a choice, walk away or pursue the tension rising like a raging storm through your love-struck heart. 

You are desperate from the hope he provides you that all of his teasing amounts to something, that he is not playing with your emotions in a game of his ego. It's not in Rex's nature to be so misleading, which inclines you to believe he does share that same sentiment as you, but what do you know when it comes to romance? Your entire life has been spent in a temple with people who would rather die than form an attachment forbidden by the code. You know nothing about your feelings besides how to hide them.

"Shut it, Rex," you grumble, and he chuckles, the sound gravelly and enticing to your lust-plagued mind. His hand scours over your hips, his deft fingers running over the area in a teasing motion. Yet, for all the concentration you render as a Jedi, it proves fruitless. Rex notices your slight tremble and eases you with a gentle whisper, "don't be so nervous."

How are you not supposed to be nervous when he's flirting with repreive? 

"Now, see your target?" You force yourself to nod, not trusting your lips to form intelligible words. He moves slightly to your side, removing his right hand from yours. It appears that he forgoes his teasing for instruction, now focused on what he was initially set out to do, but the way he grasps your hips, pulling them back ever so slightly into his cod-piece, you are inclined to believe otherwise.  

"Finger on the trigger," he orders, and your body obeys before you have time to think, waiting for your captain's following directive. "There 'ya go. Whenever you're ready."

There's a second of hesitation while you gather your thoughts before you pull the trigger. Rex is luckily behind you and holds you steady at the minuscule jerk the gun gives off. The blast bolt pierces the target, black scarring around the marred hole made on the bullseye. You look back at Rex to find him already staring at you with a brazen simper, his arms crossed over his chest. 

"You did good, sweetheart, for a Jedi." You huff and shake your head, taking a last look at your shot before back at him. His arrogance begins to fade into something genuine, and it's impossible to tear your eyes away from his; to let go of the shift in the Force between you two. 

Neither of you cared to address the atmosphere you had created in that short instance, and for right now, you don't wish to sour the mood with the taste of reality. Yet, nothing felt as perfect as staring into those bright amber eyes, reflecting a future you could only crave.

[autumnmobile12]

I’m hoping that as Nocturne continues, that there might be some eventual parallels between Alucard and Richter.

I’ve mentioned in another post I don’t really like Richter.  I’m not going to reiterate the entire thing, but the long and short of it is I found his character unnecessarily mean-spirited.  Some of his dialogue really rubbed me the wrong way and I didn’t find his lines all that funny.  But it’s this specific line to Tera that sealed the deal with me disliking him.

“And you just happened to stumble upon it one day while you were out picking flowers?”

Um, what the fuck?  She raised you, gave you a safe place to grow up, has been a surrogate mother to you, and has shown you nothing but kindness and support, and you’re going to talk to her like that?  What an asshole.

And this is the difference between Richter and Trevor’s characters.  Trevor is an asshole, but did he ever talk to Sypha or her grandfather this way?  No.  Did he talk to Alucard this way?  Well…yeah, but also observe Alucard also woke up snarky and began insulting him from minute one, so we can argue they are delightfully matching each other’s energy with a vengeance.

But I’m not gonna lie…for the first two seasons, I also didn’t like Alucard’s character all that much and for the same reasons.  I’m a little biased as I generally don't like protagonists who are just mean for no reason.  We all know someone like that in real life, whether they’re a relative or a co-worker or a boss, so why deal with it in fiction?  Okay yeah, I get that it’s often part of a character arc and symbolism for growth and finding maturity.  I understand why storylines like this are necessary, but I’m still gonna hate the little shits for the duration they’re assholes.

So Alucard…the way he treats Trevor in the first two seasons is also pretty crappy behavior.

“I imagine one sacrifices a chicken, and divines the location of the book you want from the intestines. Maybe Belmont has a crystal ball in here you could ask. ….  Your ancestors were apparently mentally ill hoarders.  I fully expect to find family cats mummified under some of these shelves.  Unless your family preferred to eat them.”

You’re gonna talk to your comrade like that…in his own home…where his entire family was brutally slaughtered by a mob....possibly right in front of him?  Yeah, real charming, Alucard.  And this is the tone for his character in the beginning.  There is the point where Sypha calls him out and tells him to stop testing Trevor, but I think there’s another element at play.  “…and he’s a drunk and he’s self-destructive and anyone trying to hold on to him may as well be dragged down with him.”  He isn’t just testing him, he’s judging him and he’s already decided he’s a useless drunk who got lucky and happened to win a few fights.

All right, now that I’ve dragged him through the mud, I’m going to pull back and assess the wider perspective of Alucard’s full character arc.  Alucard’s growth follows the line of the spoiled brat who experienced hardship and had to grow up because of it.  I think Alucard lived a very sheltered life before his mother died, and his actions and dialogue in the Belmont Hold are the strongest indicator to this.  We clearly see he’s disgusted by the trophies and the history of murder against the vampires, and he is not shy about voicing his contempt towards the family’s entire purpose.  He’s right, though.  With the presence of the infant skull in the display case, we do get the very subtle nod that the Belmonts, for all their claims of virtue and protecting humanity, have also committed atrocities.  He does have a right to his anger against Trevor and his family.

But what’s absent from Alucard’s character here is the fact he doesn’t seem to consider the atrocities the vampires have committed against his mother’s people.  To the vampires, humans are food, livestock, and a lesser species.  Godbrand brutally murders several humans in his flashback with no clear intent on actually eating them, so he kills for sport.  Cho torments the humans in her court by amusing herself with duels to the death that only she can win.  Not a humane way to treat the vampire equivalent of livestock.  And exactly how long does Erzsebet Báthory keep those girls chained up while she drains them of blood?

Why does Alucard condone what the vampires do to humans and at the same time condemns the Belmonts for hunting the vampires?

The answer:  I don’t think he did because I don’t think he was fully aware of these scenarios.  Think about it, he had no knowledge of Dracula’s Generals and the only thing he talked about regarding his father was the tragedy of his madness and how killing him would be destroying centuries of knowledge.  I think Dracula wanted him to have a peaceful life and fed him the more rosy-colored version of their history.  Maybe he intended to tell him one day, and that day kept being put off by the sentiment,  “He’s a boy.  Let him continue to be a boy.”

Alucard lives his peaceful childhood until it comes to a screeching halt when Lisa is killed, so I honestly think there is an innocence behind his upbringing that gave him a very clear bias against the Belmonts that was completely justified in some elements and not so much in others.  There’s also the point that he keeps referencing Trevor as a drunk, which is very much condescension.  It’s not until Season 3, after he’s experienced his traumas and has fallen into his own slump of grief that his attitude towards Trevor changes.   There’s still ribbing between the pair, but it’s not the same cutting remarks that we saw back in Season 2.  Alucard walked a mile in Trevor’s shoes, and that mile was bitter.

...

So where I stand with Nocturne:  Richter has started off in a way similar to Alucard.  He lost his mother at a young age, but aside from that, he grew up safe and loved in a stable home, has a good relationship with Tera and Maria, and has otherwise led a relatively peaceful life. Even in the midst of the French Revolution, they don't seem like suffering peasants.  Like Alucard before his world truly went to hell, Richter also didn’t have a full concept of what real hardship looks like.  This is apparent when he’s all confidence and bravado, going around and yelling he’s the ‘last of the Belmonts’ and he ‘kills vampires’ and “Who’s next?”  And then Olrox shows up and he cows him right back into the scared, little boy he’s pretending he’s not.

And so not only is there a parallel between Richter and Alucard, but there is also a big one between Trevor and Annette.  Both of them have suffered through their own individual hardships, both losing their loved ones in some of the most brutal ways imaginable, but those same hardships gave them their pride and their poignant maturity and cynicism in how they see the world.  Granted, the difference between Trevor and Annette is she never lost her purpose or her will to fight despite having been dealt the worse lot of having been born a slave, but still…Trevor never ran away from his nightmares like Richter did.  Even though Annette and Trevor have their moments when they are scared, both of them stood up and said,  “Fuck it, I have a bastard to kill and if I die killing them, so be it.”  They don’t give an absolute damn.  They took their pain and they wore it like armor.

“Killing you was the point.  Living was a luxury.”

“If I let my past terrify me, I’d never be free of it.”

…

Compared to them, Richter is a spoiled brat who has yet to grow up.

And I think Alucard’s going to be right there with him saying,  “Don’t worry.  I was like you once and we’ll get there together.”

[sensei-venus]

New Gen Cobra Gang! Mean!Miguel & Mean!Hawk

(Unedited) (Support The Writer🌺) (Bullying, Kyler and his group bullying Reader, Mean!Miguel & Mean!Hawk kinda Bully’s???, Smut, Double Penetration/Double Stuffing, Degradation, Slightly Rough Sex, Public/Car Sex, lot of “Whore” calling💀,) ( @gemini-sensei , @may-moskowitz , @miguelnation )

🌺✨ Reader is new and starts school around the same time that Miguel did. She's isn't too shy but she is a bit submissive. In her case being a bit more naturally submissive goes against her the first few weeks of school. People start to take notice about how she shys away or let's people walk over her more then others. Sadly it's the bad kids of the school who see this.

🌺✨ The bullies of the school are quick to target her out and use this against her. Taking advantage of her nice and submissive traits. But as the weeks go by they get tired of it. Pushing her around to get what they want was only entertainment for so long. After a while they wanted something different, something new. So they start bullying her out right. They push, shove, and even kick her. They use every insult they can, from her chubby body to her introverted nature.

🌺✨Everyone gets a peak at the constant bullying they put her under. They poke her, push her up against walls, and even on occasion slap her ass in the hallway. She yelps and shivers at their every move around her. She admits that they scare her. She sees what they do to some of the other kids at school as well. Sometimes she try’s to ignore it and thinks she at least gets treated slightly better then some of the other kids that the group bully’s on a daily basis.

🌺✨It’s weeks until the bully slowly starts to settle down. It never stops but most of the group that messes with her doesn’t come at her as frequently as they use to. It all started when her main bully, Kyler, ended up getting into a fight in the lunch room with some kid. Then it escalated and later that month Kyler came back with half his face smashed in covered in cuts and bruises. Reader felt a huge sigh of relief leave her. She believed that this would be a sign that Kyle would stop messing with her for a while as he sorted out his own bully situation.

🌺✨Reader was wrong because not even a week after Kyler came back to school all messed up, he was messing with her again. This time even worse then before. He was shoving her around more to the point she was having bruises pop up everywhere. Her bones ached when he pushed her into the hard metal lockers in the hall.

🌺✨Everything changed when she ended up paired with, Eli or better know as Hawk and his friend Miguel. Both of them kept to themselves but there was a vibe around both of them. Something telling Reader that they where bad, something in her said they where possible just as bad as Kyler. But she couldn’t put her finger on it. As she worked with them she started to see both of them for what they where, both of them where snarky and easily angered. Hawk was pretty good and manipulating situations to his liking. Miguel was a bit over the top and mouthy. Both of them where straight up mean. They didn’t target her like Kyler did but they did say rude and mean things to her. They where more handsy too and didn’t seem to get personal space. But Reader couldn’t deny she kinda likes it, she actually grew to like the attention and rough touches.

🌺✨On multiple occasions she saw both boys messing with other students around the school. Most of the kids they messed with here also assholes, some bully’s, some jerks, a few narcs. But that didn’t take away how cruel they could be. During lunch Miguel threw a tray of sloppy mash potatoes at a kid, drenching him in it. She walked down the hall once’s and heard Hawk talking to someone before a toilet flushed and someone started to watery scream. Another time she saw them both smirk while walking passed a graffiti covered locker with “bitch” written in red spray paint.

🌺✨Things really took a turn when one day while Reader was in the library, Kyler and his goons jumped her. She was trying to grab a book off a shelf when he came up behind her. He grabbed her and threw her to the ground. It was probably shock that made her not yell out. The next minute she is being dragged across the floor by her shirt. Kyler snickers and laughs with his friends. She thrashes around trying to get him to let go of her shirt but nothing works. She finally yelps when she is being half chocked by her own shirt as she hauled up to her feet. Moments later she’s being pushed back and slams into a trash can. Eyes wide as she falls straight into the open can. She’s stuck.



🌺✨ “What the fuck are you doing Kyler?!” “Teaching the fat pig a lesson that’s all. Why don’t you two fuck off.”

Hawks voice cuts in making her shiver. Her ears are full of static at this point. She doesn’t have time to collect herself because suddenly the trash can is being pushed over. She falls to the floor inside the can but is able to wiggle herself out. Tears start to fill her vision as she successfully gets out of the right space. She fails to get up, her legs and back to sore from being stuffed into the metal trap. Moments later age is being pulled up forcefully by her arm.

“We called dibs on her and you know it!”

“Technically I was messing with her first so she’s mine.”

“Fuck off Kyler!”

Miguel's voice was raised from a few feet away, Hawk was pulling her up. For a minute she thought they were just trying to be nice and help her out. She was dead wrong because the next minute Hawk was literally kicking her in the ass. Miguel was already swinging when Hawk was pushing and kicking her out of the library.

🌺✨Outside of the library Hawk pulls her down the hall near one of the bathrooms. Pushinh her up between the bathroom door and a locker. She was out a whimper as her back hits the hard wall behind her. Bottom lip trembles as she looks up at Hawk. She can't tell if she is going to get the same treatment that Miguel was giving Kyler back in the library.

“Next time Kyler and those little shit heads of his try touching you, you come to me or Miguel. I thought we made it clear to everyone that we are the only ones that get to fuck with you. Clearly the message wasn't clear enough.”

“W-What-”

A moment later Hawk was kissing her, hard on the lips. She moaned as the blue haired boy kissed her. The kiss was messy and sloppy but made her head go fuzzy. Hawk liked her? Miguel liked her? This was news to her. She couldn't deny that she might have feelings for the two delinquents but she never thought they might have similar feelings for her.

They separated as they both needed air. Hawk was quick to go back in but this time going for her soft neck. Sucking fat hickeys into her skin, her eyes fluttered at the sensation.

“Hey you could have waited for me before getting started on marking our territory~” Miguel’s voice cuts through the air.

From that day on both boys were always on her ass. Be it messing with her or messing with her~

“Miguel......”

Reader hisses as Miguel slaps her ass for the third time that day. The only difference was that this time they were locked away in Hawk’s car out in the school parking lot. Hawl was currently smirking as he helped to rip her panties off. She wants to yelp when the material is shredded when the boy completely rips it from her thighs and crotch. She doesn’t have the nerve to say anything once it’s thrown onto the car floor.

The article of clothing completely destroyed. 

Miguel just smirks from under her, his big hands moving to squeeze her fat ass cheeks and spread them wide open for Hawk.

“Fucking bitch, your already dripping for us like some whore. You wanted a booty call today didn't you? You wanted up to come dick you down during lunch huh? Don't act all shy about it.” Hawk's fingers rub through her slowly moistening folds. Her lower lips started to get wet from all the attention. Her hole starts to drool the more Hawk messes with her. Thick fingers starting to thrust into her and her legs shake.

She clenches around him as he slams his fingers right into her gspot over and over again. She moans and closes her eyes, unable to look down at Miguel. She knew he was looking right up at her, studying her face for every little movement. He chuckles which vibrates through her whole body.

He pulls harder on her ass saying in almost a whisper “You're not going to answer him? Awe I thought we were training you better than that. And you better open those eyes and look at me.” he jerks her up making her let out a high pitch yelp.

The next minute he licked up her neck and sucked at her collarbone.

Her eyes roll as she feels Hawk help to unzip Miguel’s jeans and pull his dick out from his boxers. He's already hard and twitching once Hawk helps to guide him though her fat wet folds. The tip hits her clit just right and makes her clench her thighs.

Seconds later his tip is pushing at her twitching entrance, popping into her tight channel. She moans out as he slides home. He bottoms put right against her cervix just right.

He's thrusting up into her with the help of Hawk who helps guide her over his thick cock.

Within a few minutes she's already dripping down his balls. Fat cunt pulsating, and clenching around him like a vice. Long thick drags out of her. She whines into his shoulder as he slaps her ass again, making her shake it for Hawk.

It's not long before the other boy is whipping out his fat cock and jerking it. He bites his lip as he shoves hid thumb into her tight hold, brushing against Miguel in the process.

“Fat bitch is already ready for another dick. You really where ready for us. Hope you like being double stuffed bitch.”

With the help of his thumb he lines himself up next to Miguel and pushes in slowly. They meet with a hard warm friction that has them both groaning out. Hawo bottoms out right next to Miguel, both of them sitting in the tight warmth of the chubby girl's pussy. Hawk takes her hips in his hand and squeezes her soft sides and rolls. He uses them for leverage as he starts moving her back against her. Her ass slapped against him.

Soon enough she was squealing out and rocking back and forth on the two guys. Their dicks buried inside her.

It was only a few minutes later that Hawk was pulling at the roots of her hair with one hand as both him and Miguel stuffed her cunt full of their load. She killed them for ever drop they had. It spilled out between their cocks and drooled down Miguel’s tight balls. Both of them jerking into her filled with pleasure as they dumped they heavy loads into her.

Ever so slowly they pulled out of her used raw hole. Cum spilling out in waves as her walls spasmed, now empty except for thick layer of milky white.

“Stupid bitch, bet you can’t wait until tonight.”

“We’re going to take you out after lessons at the dojo. Get you stuffed with some good food before we pound that sweet cunt again. Stuff you full with out fat nut all over again.”

[rorywritesjunk]

Let’s be one another’s present tense

Buggy ‘rescues’ you from an abusive situation, and after a less than stellar introduction, he has you audition for his crew to keep you safe. You want safety, security, and joining a circus seems like the best idea.

Rating: R-ish for now. Warning: Swearing, brief nudity, snarkiness to one another. Talks of past abuse. Storms. Buggy is both soft and aggressive in this chapter. Reader likes to call him an asshole. A/N: So after I wrote this chapter there was a storm while I was at work and a damn lightning bolt struck near the building and let me tell you, hearing that while in a warehouse is very loud and terrifying. Lights flickered, windows shook, and everything trembled and I don't want to do that again.

Title comes from “Crater Lake” by Lady Lamb.

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 (NC-17) + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @neuvilleteismybby @fluffybunnyu @sinning-23 @the-angriest-angel @ane5e

Chapter 4

It only took four months since joining until you ended up in Buggy’s bed, but not in a way you had actually expected (though you honestly didn’t anticipate ending up in his bed in any way).

The storm outside was loud. Wind howling, rain pouring, and then there was the thunder, startling you awake. Storms were always your least favorite things growing up, always wondering if your home would blow away, and you remembered being at sea once when a storm suddenly came out of nowhere, striking the fishing boat and taking your uncle away from you as a child. Since then you tried to hide yourself away during storms, not wanting to risk it taking you away.

You covered your head with the blanket, tossing and turning as you tried to find some comfortable position on your cot that minimized the noise, but no matter what you could hear the pounding rain against the tent and the wind threatening to knock everything down. You shut your eyes tightly and took a deep breath, trying to relax as you wondered if you could hide under Buggy’s bed for the night.

“What the fuck is going on over there?” Your captain grumbled from his bed. “You’re as loud as the shit outside.”

“Shush, I can’t sleep.” You said, voice muffled under the blankets. “It’s too loud and… and I don’t like storms.”

He groaned in frustration and you heard movement coming from his bed. You peaked out from under the safety of your blankets to see him sitting up in his bed, covers thrown back as he gestured to a spot beside him. You hesitated, contemplating refusing the offer, but a loud crack of thunder sounded like it was right outside your room, shaking everything and before you knew it you were in his bed and pulling the covers over yourself as you stuck your head under a pillow. 

He didn’t say anything and laid back down, turning to face you. His arm draped over your side, resting his hand on your back. He wasn’t scared, you figured, being a pirate who spent time at sea. He probably thought you were dumb for this, cowering from just a bit of troubled weather, but you knew how easily things were destroyed by something like this, and you hoped he would keep his mouth shut, not make any sort of comment, because you may end up getting your tongue out if you snapped at him at this moment.

“Storms are terrible.” He mumbled sleepily. “I don’t like them either.”

“My uncle drowned in one.” You told him as you pulled your head out from under the pillow to look at him. “Swept into the water while we were out at sea.” You sighed softly and closed your eyes. “I was ten and the storm came out of nowhere. We didn’t have time to get back to land, and he made sure we got below deck before a huge wave hit our boat and took him.” 

Your captain pulled you closer to him, not speaking as he listened. No one liked being at sea during the storm, not with the dangers that were out there. It didn’t take much to tear apart a family when the sea decided to take someone home with her. 

“Well, no ones getting washed out from the tent, so go to sleep.” He sighed as he fell silent for a moment. You nodded but then he spoke again, voice much quieter. It was just the two of you so he figured he could ask after all this time, “What did your ex do to you?”

Oh, well, that was… not a question you expected him to ask. You had wanted to put that behind you, but apparently Buggy didn’t. You opened your eyes and looked up at him. It was a nice view to have, looking up towards your captain, his hair down and face clean of makeup. With a shrug you looked down, focusing on the shirt he was wearing. It was a thready shirt with holes and seams coming undone. You found a loose thread and gave it a gentle tug.

“Hit me, threw things at me. Lots of yelling.” You told him. “I was his third wife, the other two also didn’t like me but I didn’t like them either.” The thread came loose after you gave it another tug. “The night before you came, one of them insisted that I had ruined a dress he bought her so he hit me in the face. He let them beat me with brooms and whatever else they could grab.”

Buggy didn’t say anything and you wished you just shut up and pretended to fall asleep quickly. Was he going to pity you or think you were unable to stand up for yourself? You could, you fought back against them and you had fought against him when you first met. You weren’t weak from the abuse, it was the situation you were put in against your will. 

You pulled away from him suddenly and rolled over so your back was to him. “They were home when you arrived, but they were scared so that’s why I was in the office with him. I guess they thought if you wanted to kill someone it would be me.” You rubbed your nose and sighed. “As far as I know they were still at the house when you…”

Buggy wrapped his arms around you and pulled you back against his chest. You tensed up for a moment but he didn’t do anything past that, just resting his chin on your shoulder for a moment. “Glad I blew the fuckers up then.”

“Yea…” You nodded and turned back around in his arms. Was it weird being in bed with your captain with his arms around you? You wanted to ask why he was doing this, if he wanted something in return, but a loud rumble of thunder hit outside just as a particularly violent gust of wind hit the tent, startling you into grabbing the front of his shirt and hiding your face against his chest. 

“You’re safe.” He sighed. “But if you tell any of the crew about this I’ll cut your tongue out.”

You nodded, gripping his shirt tighter as you shut your eyes. Maybe the storm would pass and you could get some sleep. 

~

Despite it sounding like everything was blowing away the night before, it was a relief to find little damage outside. The tent was still standing, no one was washed away, and you were able to sleep through the night. You woke up the same way you fell asleep: curled up against your captain, though he ended up more sprawled out in bed. He eventually woke up and got dressed, but you didn’t scold him for being naked in front of you this time, and he at least had the decency to have his back to you as he changed clothes.

You were starting to get a bit too comfortable, you decided, because as he sat down to apply his makeup for the day, you got up to change clothes, keeping your back to him as you stripped down completely. He was sitting in front of a mirror as he did his morning routine, and there was complete silence coming from him (he usually did a running commentary about what he was doing as well as rambling on about what he wanted to see you do with your routine). You did a quick glance in his direction, seeing him staring at your reflection in the mirror. 

You decided not to push it and you quickly put your clothes on before folding your sleep clothes and setting them on your cot. You ran your fingers through your hair, hoping your bedhead wasn’t too bad. It was nice to have a little less to do in the morning since you didn’t have to brush out your hair now, just run a comb through it. The sides were starting to grow back out and you wondered if you should ask Buggy for a trim even though you swore you didn't want him coming near you again with his knives, there was no one else you wanted to ask.

“Gettin’ a bit long there, isn’t it?” He said as he returned to makeup. 

“Kinda.” You said as you finished getting dressed. “I could use a trim.”

“Hm, tonight.” Buggy told you as he finished up. “I also want to try out some makeup on you. I may have something that’s waterproof.”

“Makeup?” You frowned. “Why?”

“It’s hard to see your face in the water.” He turned in his seat to look at you. It was always nice seeing the freshly done makeup on him, before it smudged and faded throughout the day. You felt your breath hitch when you took in the sight of him in his top, his hair still down as his arm rested on the back of the chair as he looked at you. It wasn’t anything spectacular but you liked the casualness of these interactions. “The audience has to be able to see that gorgeous face of yours.”

“Gorgeous?” You repeated as your face heated up. No, he used that word for anyone, it didn’t really mean much when he said it to you, so you shook your head and cleared your throat. “If there’s something that won’t come off in the water, okay, but I don’t know if it will work.”

Buggy grinned. “Oh, we can find something, cupcake, don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

And there it was again, just saying something casual like that but it made your heart skip a beat. You didn’t say anything but nodded before leaving the room to go find breakfast. Buggy usually showed up nearing the end, after the rest of the crew ate, but ever since you had breakfast with him shortly after you arrived and saw the few things he seemed to enjoy eating the most you made sure to fix him a plate of food first before getting your own. There were also times he’d get caught up talking to someone about something that you’d have to remind him that he actually needs to eat and not just poke at his food.

And sure enough, as soon as you finished making him a plate he showed up and took a seat near Cabaji.  You set it in front of him before going to fix your own as well as a cup of tea. Once you sat down you noticed he hadn’t even touched his food yet, so you gave him a nudge and pointed at his plate as you started to eat, giving him a look of if you don’t start eating i’ll end up eating it, which seemed to work because he eventually started eating, carrying on his conversation with Cabaji like normal. 

Once breakfast was consumed you had chores to get done, which was actually just washing the dishes and helping clean the kitchen. Buggy sometimes stuck around to talk with you once everyone else left, and this morning wasn’t any different as he leaned back in his seat to watch you as you cleaned.

“What, Captain?” You asked as you scraped some of the half eaten food into a trash can. 

“You need to add something to your routine.” He said as he looked you over. “Just not sure what…”

You shrugged as you piled dishes on the counter before filling the sink with hot, soapy water. “I dunno, maybe handcuff me and see if I can get free before I drown?”

He gave you a look, he didn’t like it when you said that word or made any hints at it, so you cleared your throat and tried again.

“Okay, sorry, before the timer is up.”

“Better.” He said coolly, but he shook his head. “No, I don’t like the risk for you.”

“I’d be fine.” You shrugged. “How is it any different than some of the risky shit the others do?”

“They’ve been training for years.” Buggy pointed out. “You, on the other hand, have not.”

You frowned and looked over at him. “I’m sorry, did you miss the part when I gave you my tragic backstory and said how I used to dive into the water to collect things for my family’s fishing business? I can hold my breath for over three minutes, and if I work on it I can aim for four minutes.”

“No! I don’t want you putting yourself at risk like that!” He shot back. “Do I have to spell it out for you? N-O means no fucking way, cupcake. You don’t have the experience they do, okay, you could easily drown in that tank and I don’t want that happening!”

“Oh, because you don’t want to ruin the show for your captive audience?” You snapped. “How about let me be target practice for Cabaji’s knives then since you wanted to do that to me in the first place!”

“That’s safer than you being in the water!” Buggy exclaimed. “At least Cabaji wouldn’t hurt you unless I told him to!”

Your jaw dropped. “Why would you even think of telling him to hurt me?”

“I wouldn’t!” 

“You just said-”

“Stop being a diva and listen, I wouldn’t tell him to, got it? But if I did-”

“You’re an asshole!” You splashed dirty dish water at him. “Oh, don’t let me take a risk of getting hurt but you’re happy to let someone else throw sharp, pointy objects at me! At least I could get pulled to safety if I was handcuffed in water, you know! If I was strapped to that spinning wheel of his I’d bleed out before you could help me!”

“Stop overreacting!” He snapped as he jumped out of his chair to avoid the water. 

“Then stop telling me what to do!” 

The two of you stared at each other in silence. You weren’t sure of the look in Buggy’s eyes after you said that, because he just smiled, chuckling softly as he approached you, backing you up against the counter. Both arms were on either side of you to trap you there, one hand resting on the counter while the other popped off and went to your face. You shut your eyes, waiting for the strike, but instead he grabbed you by your chin, gripping you just tight enough to keep your head still as he looked at you.

“Someone forgot who was in charge.” He said sweetly in a sing-song way as you opened your eyes to look at him. “Cupcake, babe, my sweets, I’m the Captain of this little operation, remember? The one in charge, who you’re supposed to listen to.” 

You inhaled sharply as you tried to lean away from his touch, finding it to be a little overwhelming having him close to you like this. This was completely different from the night before when he held you so gently during the storm. This is how he was when you first met him, shouting at each other in the office of your ex before Buggy stole you away. 

“Don’t forget.” He patted you on the cheek before pulling away and walking out of the room, leaving you feeling both confused and excited by how he touched you just then.

[autumnshighlady]

A Lesson in Language

Fëanor x female!reader

part of The Professor Series

summary: challenging your linguistics professor is your favourite past time, until he decides it's time for you to face consequences for it

warnings: smut, power dynamic, daddy kink (only a little bit at the end), rough oral sex (m receiving), hate sex, roughness, Fëanor is a raging asshole

word count: 4.4k

request: Professor Feanor x reader? With fiery smut and snarky student reader ;) I was thinking something like he’s a linguistics prof (since he did come up with a new system of writing) and he teaches this one course that reader needs to graduate but she’s annoyed that he teaches it’s either his way or nothing at all so she argues with him all the time in office hours for her marks and etc?

So since we seem to be imagining everybody as a professor: Feanor. He'd be mean, and condescending, and the gods may help you if you're not good in his class (wth is he even teaching, he's good at everything💀) But if you're his best student, and a bright mind beyond class assignments? You'll want the gods to help you for wholly different reasons.

a/n: Fëanor is a massive douche in this fic ladies pls never let a man treat u like this lmao

series playlist on Spotify here

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

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You rolled your eyes as you doodled in the margins of your notebook, trying to ignore Professor Fëanor’s arrogant voice echoing in the classroom. He was droning on about pragmatics, a topic you had mastered last year already. You hated this class – it was tedious at best, and like watching paint dry at its worst. The only reason you were begrudgingly taking it was because it was your last requirement for graduation, as the class involved drawing up your own research study instead of a final exam. Everyone who was in this class took it for one of two reasons – either they were the same as you and just needed it for graduation, or they were lovestruck morons enamoured with the professor.

Admittedly, he was an attractive male. His long, raven-black hair suited his sharp face, with grey blue eyes that surveyed the class like a hawk, picking on daydreaming students to answer difficult questions. He was always impeccably dressed, and spoke with more confidence than anyone you had ever met. Yet he was arrogant and stubborn, insisting his way was the only way to learn linguistics. He spoke to his students as if they were dumb, incapable of being anywhere near his level of knowledge. And it irritated you beyond belief.

You were well known amongst your peers for getting into arguments with the professor. Dr. Fëanor had a nasty temper that frightened most, but amused you. You were the only student who didn’t hesitate to challenge him and stick up for yourself when he decided he wanted to bully his students. You were confident in your linguistic skill set, marching to his office to argue your grades whenever he gave you a shitty mark. You could tell it infuriated him, how his best student didn’t kiss his ass like he had clearly expected you to.

“Am I interrupting your artistic time, (Y/N)?” Dr. Fëanor’s bored voice sounded a few feet away from you, snapping you back to reality. You looked up, and he was standing in front of your table, glaring down at you. The students beside you shrank back, afraid to be caught up in the professor’s wrath. But you didn’t back down, only sighing and looking up to meet his gaze.

“What was that, sir?” You asked, widening your eyes and faking innocence knowing damn well it would piss him off further.

“You haven’t been paying attention to a single thing I’ve said all week.” He snorted. “How you are my top student is beyond me, with such a short attention span.”

“I’ve been paying attention, sir.” You lied, bringing your elbows to rest on the table. 

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Then you won’t mind a little pop quiz, just for you?”

You shrugged. “Fire away.”

“What are the three airstream mechanisms in phonetics?” His shoulders were tense, a sign of his visible annoyance towards you.

Your answer rolled off your tongue. “Pulmonic, glottalic, velaric.”

“Define a morpheme.”

“The smallest meaningful unit of language. It must have a meaning of its own, either lexical or a grammatical function, and it must be minimal, not containing any smaller units that have meanings of their own.”

“And what are the four maxims of conversation?”

“Quality, quantity, relation and manner.” You smiled, watching your professor’s face get redder as you answered his questions easily.

“Name the distinctive linguistic properties of Quenya that make it differ from Sindarin.” Dr. Fëanor smirked, cocking his head arrogantly. You knew he would ask this question, it was too predictable. He was the master of Quenya, having played a huge role in the development of the language and construction of the Tengwar alphabet. 

But as usual, he underestimated you. You took a breath, pretending to think for a moment before lifting your chin and meeting his gaze once again. “Where do I begin?” You said confidently. “Quenya is a more complex agglutinative language that strings morphemes together into long words using an inflectional system with a flexible syntax, while Sindarin has a much easier to follow language structure. Quenya uses 5 tenses to conjugate, Sindarin has 6 and words often begin with vowels whereas in Quenya, they typically end in vowels. They both use the structures SVO and OVS structures, but Sindarin uses VS and VO, although it lacks the OSV structure that Quenya has. Additionally, Quenya adopted case endings for nouns in nominative and genitive cases, using the dual plural to represent plural form since it lacks a definite article to mark the regular plural. Would you like me to go on, sir?”

The entire class was utterly silent. No one dared breathe in the moments following your monologue as you waited for your professor to reply. You expected him to yell at you, maybe throw a manuscript at your head. But he didn’t move. It began to make you uneasy, and you noticed a strange look cross his face for a half second before he finally spoke. 

“I’ve heard more than enough from you for one class.” Fëanor’s voice was leathally calm, sending goosebumps up your arm. “Keep your mouth shut for the remainder of the lecture, and pay attention.”

You rolled your eyes, picking up your pen and sitting back in your chair as the professor continued his lecture. You crossed your legs, making your skirt hike up on your thighs, but you were too annoyed to fix it. Your professor was an arrogant bastard who couldn’t comprehend that not everyone around him was as dumb as rocks. But your skin flushed as you drifted off into one of your many daydream scenarios of Fëanor bending you over his desk and taking his anger out on you. You just knew he was rough and dominant in bed, having fantasised about being on the receiving end of that fire within him.

Your daydreaming was cut short as the professor began distributing last week’s quizzes back to the students. He didn’t acknowledge your presence as he ungracefully dropped yours in front of you. You noticed quickly a note was attached to it, that read:

Be in my office at 5pm tonight. We need to have a talk about your attitude.

You sucked in a breath. This was new. Not once had he invited you to his office – you were there of your own volition often enough to challenge him about your marks. You wouldn’t be surprised if he put up a sign on his door barring you specifically from entering. You knew he hated your visits to his office, so why invite you now? Talks with your professor about your attitude were done in public, specifically to try and humiliate you. 

You folded up the note and slid it into your pocket, nervousness beginning to churn in your gut. Was he going to fail you out of spite? You’d be unable to complete your degree if he did that. While Fëanor was an arrogant asshole, you didn’t think he was cruel. Or at least you hoped so.

Tears began to well in your eyes as the possibility of failing dawned on you. Perhaps there were consequences to mouthing off to your professor after all. 

*******************

A few hours later, you knocked at the elaborate wooden door to Fëanor’s office, then wiped your face one last time. You had spent an hour in the bathroom attempting to fix your makeup and conceal the evidence of your tears and failing, miserably. Your mascara was wet, giving you more of a smokey eye look than you had intended. Your smudged face was a stark contrast with your perfectly put together outfit – a short brown pencil skirt and tall boots, paired with a tight fitting, slightly cropped t-shirt. You felt ridiculous now, going to your professor’s office like this, but you had no other choice.

“Come in. And close the door behind you.” His deep voice echoed from inside the office, and you pushed the heavy door open. His office was its usual organised mess, manuscripts and books everywhere, laid out across every sitting space available save for the single chair in front of his desk. The room glowed orange from the roaring fireplace off to the side, making it look more like an ancient cave than an office.

You carefully walked over to the chair in front of the desk, clasping your hands in front of you.

“Sit.” Fëanor ordered, finally glancing up at you when you hesitated. “Unless you prefer to kneel on the floor?”

Your face burned bright red as you scrambled into the chair, ignoring the way his insinuation made your thighs tingle with need. He ignored you for a few minutes, continuing whatever he was translating on his desk. You shifted uncomfortably, unsure what to do. None of your interactions had ever been like this – quiet, suspenseful, behind closed doors. No, it was always bickering arguments that turned heads in the hallways. Something was different about him.

“Do you know why I really called you in here today?” He asked, still not looking up. His long hair was tied back, except for a few loose strands that hung around his face as he wrote.

“To fail me.” You said quietly.

He barked a heartless laugh. “Gods, no. Failing you would mean I’d have to endure a whole extra semester of your arrogant attitude. I refuse to put myself through that.”

You felt all nervousness fade away, quickly replaced by that hot anger only he seemed to be able to get out of you. “I’m arrogant?” You snapped. “Take a look in the mirror.”

Fëanor’s writing ceased, and his grey blue eyes met yours and narrowed. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard what I said.” You fired back, unable to stop the words from coming out of your mouth. “You’re the arrogant one here, sir. You try to belittle me every time I prove myself to be smart because you can’t imagine that everyone around you isn’t a complete imbecile.”

You expected the male to snap back, to call you an idiot and ask how dare you say these things to him. Truthfully, you couldn’t believe you were saying these things either. All your arguments had been about the material so far, veiled insults hidden beneath your words. Never were you this open, this bold, about how you felt. 

“Anything else?” He said in a bored manner.

“Yeah, you’re a real prick.” You continued your angry rambling, sick of being looked down on by this male. “You know as well as I do that I’m your best student, yet you treat me like the problem kid at the back of the class. It’s ridiculous, and the only reason you do it is to feel better about yourself. Am I wrong, sir?”

A long pause followed, and you swallowed a lump in your throat. If you weren’t going to fail before, you definitely were now. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. You simply sat there, eyes locked with your ill-tempered linguistics professor. After a few minutes, you couldn’t take it anymore, averting your gaze to inspect a loose thread on your skirt.

“Do you know why I’m such an arrogant… prick, did you say?” He stood up, walking around to the front of his desk and leaning against it, crossing his large arms. “Because I’ve earned it. I invented the Tengwar script and am the most knowledgeable person on the Quenya language there is. I have created and invented things that nobody else has, and nobody will ever come close to achieving what I have achieved. I have earned my arrogance, you have not. You’re just a little girl who’s in way over her head.”

You saw red, angrily pushing back the chair as you stood up to challenge him . Fëanor was a good foot taller than you, making you strain your neck to meet his gaze. “Call me a little girl one more time, I fucking dare you.” You hissed.

“Or what?” He smirked. “You’ll cry? Just like you did before you came in here?”

Your jaw went slack, “Wha–”

Fëanor scoffed, pleased with himself. “Oh, please, don’t even try. It was written all over your pretty face. I like it covered in tears, by the way. It’s a good look on you.”

WIthout thinking, your hand reached up and connected with his face, a dull slap echoing throughout the office. “Fuck you.” You spat, turning to storm out before you could face the consequences of hitting your professor.

But Fëanor was faster, his large hand firmly clasping around the hand you just slapped him with and yanking you back around to face him. His other hand grabbed your other wrist, and no matter how much you squirmed against it he didn’t budge. His eyes were dark as he pulled your hands up and across each other, pushing them into your chest as he stepped even closer to you. 

“You wish.” He purred mockingly. “Isn’t that right? Is that not one of the reasons why your attention drifts off in class? Because you’re fantasising about being bent over my desk and fucked until you can’t remember your own name?”

“You think way too highly of yourself–” You tried to defend yourself, but he cut you off as if you hadn’t even said anything.

“You think I’m blind? That I don’t notice how you always wear those revealing outfits on the days you have my class. Don’t play dumb, it’s not a good look on you.”

You thrashed in his grip, ignoring the effect his words had on you. “Let me go right now you self righteous, narcissistic–”

“Kneel.”

That made you freeze. “Excuse me?”

“You really need to learn how to shut up.” Feanor growled. “And that’s what I’m going to do. I’ve had enough of that mouth of yours, it’s time to make it useful for once. Now kneel.”

You were utterly dumbstruck, unable to do anything as your professor gave you a shove, making you fall to your knees on the ground in front of him. The wooden floor made your joints ache, but you knew better than to protest.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Fëanor began, the sound of his belt unbuckling distinct in the background. “Do you think you can follow simple instructions for once?”

“Yes.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, throat dry with anticipation for what was about to happen.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He paused his movements, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at his towering form. “I’m going to stuff that smart mouth of yours with my cock, and you’re going to take it like the desperate little slut I know you are. If you please me enough, I will bend you over this desk and fuck you so hard you can’t walk tomorrow. And you’ll have learned your lesson to keep your mouth shut when I tell you to, understood? Is that simple enough for you to understand?”

“Yes, sir.” You repeated, trying to keep the shake out of your voice. Your core throbbed at his words, exactly as dominant as you imagined him to be.

Fëanor finally unzipped his trousers, letting them fall to his feet along with his boxers, revealing the thickest cock you had ever seen. Your jaw dropped, but you didn’t even care that you had just boosted his ego. All you could think about was how it would possibly fit.

“What’s the matter?” He mocked. “Too big for you? Scared you won’t be able to take it? You’ll be able to take it because I’ve told you so. Now open.”

You parted your lips, letting your professor slide his cock between them. You sucked on the tip, earning a groan of pleasure from the male above. Forcing your jaw to relax, you took him deeper, aching with the stretch.

Without warning, Fëanor impatiently grabbed the back of your head and pushed you down further. Tears blotted your face as you gagged around him, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked him. Clearly, he wasn’t concerned with having you come up for air, forcing you to breathe through your nose.

He set a rough pace, guiding your head up and down his cock as far as it would go without making you gag too much. Your mascara began to run down your face, and you made sure to keep eye contact with him despite the strain on your throat.

“There’s a good little slut,” Fëanor growled, tightening his grip on your hair as he thrusted faster. “I told you you looked better with tears running down your face.”

You couldn’t protest with his cock around your mouth, so you only whimpered, focusing on taking him deeper. You sucked hard with each stroke, letting your tongue run along the vein underneath his shaft as you bobbed your head. Your professor moaned shamelessly above you, a sound that set your nerves alight.

Mindlessly, your hand wandered between your legs, attempting to relieve some of the pressure building there. Your fingers hadn’t even grazed your panties when Fëanor halted his movements, holding your head down at the base of his cock. 

“Don’t even think of touching yourself.” He hissed angrily. “I didn’t give you permission to do so. Try it again, and I won’t let you cum. Got it?”

You nodded around the base of his cock, whimpering. Your jaw was in agony, stretched to the max to accommodate his length. When he finally moved your head once again, you doubled your efforts, determined to make your arrogant professor fall apart. You sat on your hands for good measure, trying to avoid the temptation to ignore his orders altogether.

Fëanor began thrusting his hips to meet your mouth a few minutes later, his pretty eyes screwing shut as he tilted his head back. “Fucking swallow every last drop.” He grunted between thrusts, his grip on your scalp tightening right before his cock twitched in your mouth. He came with a loud groan, shooting spurts of warm liquid down your throat. You kept bobbing your head, sucking up every last drop and letting it slide down your throat. He panted, hips sputtering as you sucked him dry before finally pulling your lips off him. Your jaw ached like never before, but you were strangely proud of yourself. The image of your high strung professor climaxing into your mouth would be forever burned into your mind.

“Looks like you’ve earned your reward after all.” Fëanor grabbed you by your shoulders and hoisted you up onto his desk with impressive strength. You didn’t have time to ask if you should move the papers on his desk before his mouth crashed into yours. His lips were hot and dominating, overwhelming your senses. You barely had time to kiss him back before he was pulling away, attaching his lips to your neck and biting down, making you cry out. He sucked and bit every inch of your throat in a manner you knew would leave dark bruises the next day, undoubtedly an intentional choice on his part.

You felt your shirt being yanked up, Fëanor quickly pulling it over your head along and ripping your bra off then tossing both items somewhere behind him. His calloused hands eagerly grabbed your breasts, squeezing hard. You squirmed under his touch, wanting to get away from the harshness of it but also needing more somehow. Fëanor’s mouth assaulted your breasts, biting the soft flesh firmly before taking your nipple in his teeth and flicking the bud with his tongue.

“Oh, fuck.” You couldn’t help but moan, tilting your head back.

“You like this?” Fëanor teased, lifting his mouth from your breast momentarily before hovering over the other one. “You like it when I’m rough, treating you like a dirty little whore? Leaving marks all over your body so you know that you’re my property, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, sir!” You cried out as he sucked at your other breast. It was overwhelming, his hands were everywhere except where you needed them most.

As if he read your mind, Fëanor pulled away, ripping his shirt over his head to reveal the most sculpted abs you’d ever seen. The bastard stood there for a moment, proudly watching you admire his form. Gods above, you’d never be able to focus in class again after seeing his muscles.

He reached down and roughly tugged your skirt and panties down, exposing your glistening cunt. Fëanor plunged a finger into you without warning, pressing a thumb to your clit and making you see stars. His mouth found your neck again as you squirmed under his touch, a hand reaching around your back and pressing you into his frame.

“You’re a fucking mess,” He growled into your neck, adding in a second finger and stretching your hole. “All for me, isn’t that right? I’m going to break you, my dear. Break you into a thousand pieces and put you back together so I can do it all over again and make you mine.”

You whined, feeling your muscles clench around him as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. You were approaching your orgasm faster than you ever had in your life. “I’m close…” You mumbled through shallow breaths, legs beginning to twitch.

He smirked. “I know.” Was all he said before roughly pulling his fingers away, right before you could make the final stretch towards the edge.

“What the hell!” You exclaimed, angry. Before you could cuss him out, his hand wrapped around your throat and squeezed.

“What did I tell you about keeping that pretty mouth shut?” Fëanor growled. “I would threaten to stuff it with my cock again, but you’d probably enjoy that too much. Guess I’m just going to have to fuck you so hard you scream and lose your voice.”

He roughly turned you around, pushing you by your neck so you were stomach first down on the desk with your feet still on the floor. You breathed heavily, grasping the edge with your fingertips as Fëanor lined his cock up to your entrance. You forced your body to relax, knowing it was going to hurt at first.

His hands found your hips and he slammed into you, almost knocking the wind right out of your lungs. You barely had time to catch your breath and acknowledge the stinging stretch between your legs before he pulled out and did it again, setting a brutal pace. You began to scream, fully screaming in pleasure and pain as Fëanor pounded into you relentlessly. You couldn’t even think straight, all logical thoughts about there possibly being people in the hallway that could hear you as you cried out over and over again.

Fëanor’s grip on your hips was almost bone shattering, his thick cock slamming into your g-spot faster than anyone had ever fucked you. He was right, your entire body would be sore tomorrow. In fact, you’d be lucky if you were able to walk to class. Fëanor’s thrusts were so powerful, you were sure he was going to split you in half.

And you fucking loved it.

You loved being bent over your professor’s desk, unable to think about anything else aside from how hard he was fucking you. The male you had had verbal sparring matches with for weeks was taking his frustration out on you, and you loved it. You enjoyed being at his mercy, feeling things nobody else had been able to make you feel.

Fëanor grunted, reaching one hand down and rubbing your clit. “You cum when I say you cum, got it?”

You nodded, whimpering as you felt your body try and pick up where it left off. You begged it to keep your orgasm at bay, knowing Fëanor would be less than happy if you came without his permission. So you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to think about anything else.

He thrusted into you for what seemed like hours, to the point where your legs had gone almost numb. You were a sobbing mess, fighting to stop yourself from climaxing all over his cock. The papers on his desk were stained with your tears, and your determination to not beg him for anything snapped.

“Please let me cum.” You sobbed pathetically.

Fëanor only increased his pace on your clit, smirking as he pounded you. “Aw, are you crying again? Poor little thing is so desperate to cum for daddy, isn’t she?”

Daddy. Your brain went haywire. Normally, you were not into the whole daddy kink, but the way Fëanor said it changed something in you. You whined, nodding. At this point, you’d say whatever to get him to let you cum. “Please, daddy, I need to cum,” You cried, body shaking. “I’ll do anything you want, please just let me finish.”

Fëanor groaned behind you, his cock twitching inside of you, evidence of his pleasure with your response. “That was pathetic,” He grunted. “But I’ll let it slide. Cum for me, slut. Cum now.”

Your body let go before he finished his sentence, the dam that had been holding your orgasm back bursting, letting the climax wash over your body. You cried out, voice breaking with hoarseness as your legs twitched violently, your grip on the desk and Fëanor’s hand on your hip being the only thing keeping you from sliding onto the floor.

The world spun around you, and at one point you were pretty sure you lost consciousness. As you came down from your high, Fëanor moaned loudly, pulling out and stroking his cock while jutting his hips forward. Thick spurts of cum landed on your back mixing with the sheen of sweat already there. His loud groan echoed throughout the office as you panted, your entire body feeling both completely wrecked and on cloud nine at the same time.

You tried to speak, but no words came out. Your vocal cords were shot, jaw aching with every movement. You didn’t even hear Fëanor retreat, but he returned with a towel, gently wiping the seed off your skin. You wanted to thank him, but couldn’t. In fact, you weren’t sure if you could even move. 

Fëanor chuckled, bundling up your clothes and setting them beside you. He placed a glass of water to your lips, tilting it back and letting you eagerly drink it up. “You’re excused from Thursday’s lesson,” He said smugly. “Only because I know you won’t be able to get out of bed to get to class. Let this be your lesson learned not to question me, or call me an arrogant prick. Got it?”

You nodded weakly, defenceless, and knowing your linguistics class with Dr. Fëanor would never be the same.