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chasingpj · 3 years

Text

𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐝-𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝

"Ehm, is this like a seven-minutes-in-heaven thing?”

pairing: percy jackson x child of hecate!reader

words: 5,236

warnings: none? pls let me know if i missed anything

timeline: post sea of monsters

if you want to be tagged every time I update this story click here

a/n: hi hi! i hope you guys like this chapter. i fell in a little bit of a rut about my writing so I've been holding off on posting but I think I'm pretty satisfied with how this came out. i'm so fried after editing this so if i happened to miss any typos, sorry, i tried haha.

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven

The heat and dimness from the cabin surround you like a warm hug making it challenging to stay awake. Your eyelids droop against your wishes to study, fatigue messing with your vision as it blurs the letters on the page you were trying to read. As you find yourself mindlessly reading words, you decide to give in, and soon you’re settled in an in-between state of consciousness.

Suddenly, you’re standing at the entryway of the kitchen in your home, the first thing you notice is the scent of your favorite meal as it fills your nostrils, and you smile sleepily as your father looks at you. He’s hovering over the stove, right hand stirring something in a saucepan, and he smiles widely at you.

“Stella, you’re home!” He announces as he pushes his round glasses up the bridge of his nose, “Go, sit! Dinner is almost ready.”

You smile at the nickname your father has called you since you were a child. He said that the first time you cried in his arms, your little body illuminated like a supernova, and since then, he’s called you Stella, the Latin word for star. You make your way past the kitchen island on your left, noticing the history channel playing on the small TV in the corner of the counter like always. A sense of nostalgia hits you in your core, and you sigh, feeling safe. As much as you loved the camp, homesickness was unavoidable.

You settle yourself at the black round table in the back of the kitchen, chin resting on your palm as you look outside of the window beside you. The small garden of herbs and flowers you have in the backyard is as you remember. Every summer, your father cultivates herbs and flowers in dedication to your mother. He uses most of the herbs for spells, and at the end of the summer, he would make a bouquet out of the brightest flowers in the garden and rest them on your mother’s alter.

The reminder of your mother made your stomach feel heavy, and you quickly push the thoughts of her away. You weren’t in the mood to deal with them, especially not in a dream like this. The thumping of Atticus’s footsteps coming down the stairs catches your attention, and soon your brother appears in the doorway with his usual wide smile.

“Hey! I thought you were making my favorite tonight.” His shoulders slump, and he playfully narrows his eyes at you. You shrug,

“What can I say? Must suck not being the favorite,” you joke, and Atticus gasps dramatically. The sound of your father’s laughter fills the room as he tilts his head back.

“I love you guys equally! That’s not nice to say,” he says as he points the spatula at you as he squints. You snort as Atticus joins you at the table,

“Yeah, Y/n, that’s not nice,” he repeats, poking his tongue out at you, and you return the action. You and your brother have a short competition of who can stick out their tongue harder as your father puts the food on the table. At the sight of your favorite meal, you let Atticus win, turning to put a portion on your plate.

Amidst your dinner conversation with your father and your brother, the deep growl rumbling in Ambrose’s chest makes its way into your dream. A soft hum leaves your lips, your neck relaxing against your will, and your head jolts forward as your cheek slips off your palm. You blink a few times, groaning since you’ve lost your dream.

“Ambrose, shush.” Your chin returns onto your hand, and you submit to your fatigue once again. The image of a ravenous bunny, cartoonishly stomping its way through a candy cane forest, filled your mind, projected on your eyelids like a movie in a theater. It’s too ridiculous to give much thought, and you were too busy relishing in the soothing feeling of sleep.

All of a sudden, Ambrose bursts into a series of short high pitched barks, jolting you awake. Your eyelids fly open, and you turn in your chair. Ambrose stands up tall, his fur contouring to his muscles as they flex. His ears are perched up; his focus fixed on the back wall. Whatever he was looking at, he didn’t dare to approach.

"What? What is it?"

The bunk beds obstructed your view, but you are sure you are alone. Everyone was out and about doing their normal camp activities; if anyone had entered the cabin, you would have heard them.

You groan in your hands as they rub your face to shake off the remaining fatigue, growing annoyed at Ambrose’s persistent barking that nips harshly at your eardrums.

“Ambros-”

A bitter breeze fills the room, and your breath gets caught in your throat at the feeling. Your arms wrap around your frame, failing to prevent goosebumps from forming on your arms. It was impossible. Today’s weather report called for a hot, humid day like it’s been all summer. As the hair at the back of your neck stands straight, and you have an idea of what’s happening, but you hoped you were wrong.

Ambrose abruptly ends his barking with a distressing whine. His ears sag low on the sides of his head as he retreats, his large body shrinking in fear. With cautious steps, you approach him in the middle of the cabin. The thumping of your pulse is loud in your ears, and for the first time in a while, a familiar pang strikes you in your gut. You’re being watched.

Despite his fear, Ambrose guards you finding the courage to stand tall and confident after cowering a few seconds ago. You let out a shaky breath, and warily, you finally catch sight of what has his attention.

A tall, dark figure stands still at the end of the room. The light that bleeds through the thin curtains behind it wasn’t enough to expose its face but instead illuminates the swirling black vapor that made up this human form.

From your years of experience, you learned how to deal with these kinds of things. Ghosts gravitated towards you like a moth to a lit flame. Most of the time, the spirits are harmless, looking for some company, and were eager to ask for favors you often couldn’t fulfill. Other times, they were more malevolent entities, existing to feed off your fears, and had the reputation of being stubborn guests.

From the way, the room turned impossibly cold in the middle of a sweltering summer afternoon and the heaviness in your gut, the shadow in front of you was definitely the latter.

"Who are you? How did you get here?" Your voice booms through the silence. "Why are you here-"

The cabin door slams open, the shadow dispersing the moment the sunlight bleeds through the room. You jump, gasping as your whole body turns around. The two figures at the doorway are dark, the sudden beams of light blinding you for a moment before you manage to recognize Connor and Travis.

“Why is it so damn dark in here? And cold? Jeez, Y/n, open the curtains at least,” Travis nags with a smirk on his lips.

“I don’t need light to see.” You groan, turning your face away, the sun shining right at you as Travis begins ripping open the curtains. “And I hate when the sun gets in my eyes,” you complain, stepping aside where sunlight doesn’t reach. Though you saw the shadow disperse, you glance at the back of the room, double-checking that what you saw was gone.

"You know... “

Your focus returns to the two boys standing side by side a few feet away from you. Both of them sporting the mischievous smirk that all the Hermes kids had when they’re about to stir up trouble. Connor only uttered two words, but it was clear they were up to something, and you were about to be involved.

"You've been locked up in here, in the dark, alone, for a while now. It's been like a week and a half since the incident, and we know you’re still a little down,” he trails off, swaying on his feet.

"... yeah?"

"And we think we have the perfect way to cheer you up!" Connor gives you a toothy grin, and as confident as he looked, you don’t quite believe him.

"And that is?"

"I think it's time we execute our bunny prank on the Ares cabin!"

You press your lips together in a thin line; head cocked to the side. "That's supposed to cheer me up?"

"Yeah!"

"How is putting my life in danger going to cheer me up?" Your gaze switches between the two as they exchange looks with each other.

“Um…” Connor says, lost for words.

"It'll be fun. We promise!" Travis insists, waving your comment off. He moves to sit in your chair, leaning back as he props his legs on your desk. "So, have you thought about how we're going to do this?"

You sigh softly, not bothering to protest. If you denied participating, Connor would be quick to remind you what’s at stake.

"I have," you admit. After your last interaction with Clarisse, the prank did come to mind.

The Stoll brother’s faces grew almost as bright as the sun outside. Connor takes a seat on the bed closest to you, leaned in with his elbows on his knees, "Tell us the details then,” he urges.

"Okay, so I found a shape-shifting potion in my spellbook. It's pretty simple. I have all the ingredients except for one. The only thing I need is the hair of a rabbit. Get that for me, and I'll make it." Connor and Travis nod eagerly, and you can already see the gears turning in their heads as they formulate a plan to catch a bunny.

"If you can get it to me in a few hours, we can sneak into their cabin while they're practicing in the arena. Then I can pour a few drops of the potion into their water cooler. The potion is potent; you only need a few drops for it to work."

"Sounds like a solid plan. They'll be thirsty after practicing, and boom, they’re all cute little bunnies,” Travis says, legs unmounting from your desk, and he hops onto his feet.

"So hurry and get me rabbit hair!”

A small, almost manic laugh comes from Connor’s lips, "This is gonna be epic!"

"Should we ask the nymphs for help?" Travis ponders out loud as he makes his way out of the dorm.

"Wait! We should get scissors! Do you have scissors?” Connor asks you, and you giggle. You grab a pair of scissors from your desk drawer, and Connor quickly swipes them from your hands the moment you present them to him.

"Thanks, Y/n!” Swiftly, he turns on his heels, trailing behind Travis.

"Be careful, please! Don't hurt the bunny!"

"We won't! The worse we'll do is give it a bald spot; they’ll be fine!" Travis shouts.

After the slamming of the front door and the ragged footsteps of Connor and Travis’s departure, your smile falters as the silence regresses. The figure you had seen comes to mind, and you frown, Ambrose whining as he sits close to your legs.

"That was weird, wasn't it?" You lean down, affectionately scratching the backs of his ears as Ambrose licks your wrists. The sight of his drooping eyes told you enough to know that this wasn’t the last time you’ll be seeing whatever that was.

"C'mon, let's not worry about that now. We have to make that potion." An uneasy grumble comes from Ambrose's chest as he nuzzles his snout in your hand.

"I know, I know," you whisper before standing up.

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

"Shh, they’re coming,” Travis announces in a whisper, silencing you and Connor’s conversation. The distanced chattering and footsteps of the Ares campers become louder as Clarisse pushes open the front door. The three of you duck lower in your place as they scatter to their beds, beginning to take off their armor. Travis slowly rises from his crouching position, peaking enough to see the inside. He gives you and Connor a nod, a silent okay to peek yourselves. Cautiously, you come up, watching the group now crowding around the water dispenser, playfully telling each other to hurry up.

Connor lightly pats your shoulder with excitement, and you scrunch your face, anticipation swirling in your stomach as one by one, they begin taking sips from their water bottles. Your jaw drops as Mark forms a snout, his hands flying up to his face.

"W-what?" He sputters, moving closer to his reflection in the mirror. "What is-"

The rest of his words became soft squeals, his whole body shrinking and shifting into a stark white bunny in the blink of an eye.

“Um? Did that just-?”

“How did-”

“You have bunny ears!” Ellis shouts, pointing at Clarisse while she formed a pair of her own. Clarisse didn’t have time to comment as Ellis joins her half-brother. One by one, they began shrinking, and small shrieks fill the room.

"What are you guys doing?" The three of you practically jump out of your skin, heads snapping in the direction of the voice.

Percy’s eyes are wide and curious, furrowing his eyebrows at the chaos breaking out in the Ares cabin. You open your mouth to say something but stop yourself, not wanting to blow your cover.

“It must have been the water!”

“When I see the Stoll Brother’s I’m going to-” Squeal.

Travis’s face was a tint of pink from holding in his laughter. He doesn’t respond, simply waving at Percy to come and see for himself. You and Percy exchange a smile before turning back to the window.

His chance at seeing the pool of white bunnies went down the drain; the four of you met with an angry Clarisse instead. To your dismay, she didn't completely transform. Her normally brown eyes are now crimson and her mouth transformed into a whiskered snout. White bunny ears peek through her brown hair, making it look like she was wearing one of those bunny ear headbands they sell at the pharmacy around Easter time. You’d be laughing as much as the Stoll Brothers if Clarisse’s stare wasn’t fixed on you and only you. You give her a nervous smile as you step away carefully, and the moment Clarisse moves to jump out the window, the four of you bolted.

“She’s gonna kill us!” You exclaim; Travis and Connor burst into laughter, hands over their stomach as they run beside you.

“Split up! She can’t kill all of us!” Travis suggests, already making a beeline into the forest with Connor.

“Yeah, cause she’s gonna go after me!”

“We’ll weave you a nice shroud!”

“WOW, THANKS!”

The cackles of the two made you roll your eyes, and you make a mental note never to help them with a prank ever again. You grunt as Percy grabs onto your wrist, and you stumble for a second until you catch up to his pace.

“You can’t run from me forever!” Clarisse shouts, running close behind. She was right, you couldn’t avoid her forever, but you just needed her to calm down. "When I catch you, I'm tying your necks like shoelaces!"

You cringe at the threat as you and Percy burst through the swinging doors of the Arts and Craft center, weaving your way through the campers.

“Sorry!” You shout over their groans as you’re pulled into one of the hallways. Seeing the closets along the walls of the hallway gave you an idea. You bite your lip, focusing on the door leading to the outside. Reaching your hand out, you flick your fingers forward, causing the door to burst open fast enough for it to lock in place.

The moment you approach the last door in the hallway, you grab the knob. A grunt leaves Percy’s lips as you drag him in the closet with you. He loses his footing from the change of direction, spinning hastily toward you, and the both of you stagger into the closet. You yelp, the weight of Percy’s body sending your back right against the wall, and the knob comes out of grip right as it slams closed.

Percy grunts, his hands push against the wall beside your frame, promptly lifting himself away from you.“Sor-”

“Shh.” Your index finger rests your lips as you look at the door. Your shoulders tense up, afraid that Clarisse had heard the slam. Soon, Clarrise’s pounding footsteps rise like a crescendo and, to your relief, gradually fades as she runs right out of the building. A shaky sigh leaves your lips before glancing at Percy, who’s directly in front of you. You smile sheepishly, foot moving to step back only to be met with the wall.

Percy’s heart beats loud in his chest, and he was hoping that you couldn’t hear it. He tried to step back as well, but Percy’s foot was met with the shelves behind him to his dismay. He scans your face in the dim lighting for a few seconds. Suddenly, he’s reminded of how he stumbled on top of you, making him too embarrassed to look at you any longer. His focus falters to the shelves beside him, forcing himself to find interest in the tubs of paint stacked on them.

“It’s your fault,” you accuse after some silence. Shock flashes across Percy’s face,

“Huh?”

“Because you were so nosey, you blew our cover.” You reach over, and you poke his shoulder. Percy’s peers down at where you poked him as if he was offended.

“At least I ran with you. Travis and Connor left you for dead!”

“Great friends, they are, huh?” You ask, your voice laced with playful sarcasm.

Percy laughs, "I think you've taken the trophy of being the most hated by Clarisse," he jokes.

"I don't think I can one-up you. You literally fought her dad and won," you point out. "I think if we split up, she'd definitely come after me. Imagine the last thing you see when you die is Clarisse looking like… that. "

Percy laughs and you laugh, too, feeling comfortable with making light of the situation now that you were out of harm's way.

"How did that even happen!?”

"I don't know!” You sigh, bummed that Clarisse had managed to be the only person who stayed human. “Maybe she didn’t drink enough water?”

“Wow, the only person you needed to transform into a bunny just didn’t,” Percy says as he crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the shelves.

“Pretty much.”

“You have amazing luck, Y/n,” he says sarcastically.

“Whatever,” you mumble, eye faltering to the shelves beside you. Percy’s laughter fills the small space, making it hard to prevent the smile from creeping on your lips. The sound of footsteps interrupts you as you open your mouth to say something else and it brings Percy’s laughter to an end. Your shoulders are practically up to your ears as you look into Percy’s wide eyes before he mouths, “we’re dead.” If it is Clarisse, you guys are cornered, and you prepare to shadow travel even if it meant you might pass out, especially if you bring him with you.

You furrow your eyebrows as you hear two familiar voices, and soon the door opens, revealing you both to Beckendorf and Silena. There is a moment of silence, Silena blinking at the both of you, her head tilted slightly to the side as she observes the tension. Beckendorf’s right eyebrow raises, glancing between you and Percy’s face.

"Ehm, is this like a seven-minutes-in-heaven thing?" Your face gets hot, and you exchange a look with Percy, noticing the tips of his ears are bright red.

"No, we were hiding from Clarisse,” he stutters out, gaze snapping to the two, and you nod quickly,

"Because I turned her into a bunny and-"

"She didn't transform all the way-"

"It's okay. Charles and I would sneak around at first, too," Silena interrupts, her lips curled up in a satisfied smile.

"We were just talking!" You and Percy say in unison. The more defensive you got, the more suspicious you both came off. From the way Beckendorf and Silena smiled at each other, you knew they weren’t buying it.

Beckendorf shrugs, and he steps forward, reaching between the two of you to grab the box of beads from the shelf. He hums, “It’s clear we interrupted something. I just needed this. You guys can carry on,” he teases, amused at how embarrassed the both of you are.

“But- we-” you stutter, unable to finish your sentence, Beckendorf shutting the door, and Silena makes a sound between a giggle and a squeal as they walk away.

Percy clears his throat, interrupting the short silence that fell between the two of you, “Um, should we…?” His voice falters, not finishing his sentence, but you already knew what he was going to ask.

“Yeah,” you agree awkwardly, opening the closet. “Let’s go,” you mumble, stepping out with Percy close behind you.

"Where should we go now?" Percy asks, opening the door to the outside for you, and you smile, finding it sweet. You thank him shortly, and you shrug,

"I'm not sure, but I don't think Clarisse has calmed down yet…" you trail off, catching sight of a fuming Clarisse standing beside Chiron a few meters away. “Dammit.”

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

You shift on your feet, standing in Chiron’s office alongside Travis, Connor, and Percy. Clarisse’s crimson eyes are still narrowed at you as Chiron sighs, backing into his wheelchair before his backside disappears, allowing him to sit fully into it.

"I understand you guys are just having fun. However, I believe the Ares Cabin deserves a little break from the pranks, don't you think?" He asks as he looks at Connor and Travis.

You fiddle with your fingers, your shoulders slumped along with Connor and Travis’s shoulders. Travis nods, and he hums as if he considers it for a moment.

“We could prank the Apollo Cabin instead?" Connor suggests, and Chiron opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. You press your lips together in an attempt to refrain from smiling, discovering that Percy was doing the same. You became more amused at his face turning a little pink as he holds in his laughter, and you quickly look at your hands to recollect yourself.

“I’d prefer you tone down the pranking altogether,” Chiron clarifies. Connor frowns, and he nods slowly,

“Oh. Yeah, we could do that, I guess,” he mumbles, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. Chiron nods, shifting his gaze to you,

“Y/n, what did you used to transform them into rabbits?” You hum softly,

“It’s a shape-shifting potion from my spellbook,” you explain.

“How long will it take for them to transform back?” You look up for a second, trying to remember your notes. While recalling the day you went through Ernest’s potions book to jot the recipe in your Book of Shadows, you realize how many forms of the potion there were depending on the transformation length. Ernest had mentioned in passing something about reading his notes carefully. It wasn’t until now did you realize that the potion you had made was not the short-term one.

“About … 24 hours,” you admit, and Connor snorts beside you.

“What!?” Clarisse snaps, her fists clenching on her side. “You mean, they’re going to be like that until tomorrow afternoon?”

“Yes, that’s what 24 hours means,” you snap back; her presence was enough to annoy you. Clarisse’s glare burns into your face, and she moves to take a step, about to charge at you.

“Clarisse, please! They will be punished accordingly,” Chiron reassures her, making her halt in her place, and she groans, her arms crossing over her chest as she waits for Chiron’s verdict.

"Well, I was going to assign you four to clean the Pegasus stables, but now that it has come to my attention that the potion lasts 24 hours, your punishment is to feed and clean up after them while they’re under the spell."

“Ew, I’d rather clean the stables,” Connor mutters, and you furrow your eyebrows,

“But wouldn’t the pegasus stables be more work?” You ask, hoping to get him to change your punishment. The last thing you wanted to do was be surrounded by a bunch of angry bunnies. Sure they were small, but you did not doubt in your mind that you were going to be attacked by them.

“They are a big group; I think it is fair that Clarisse gets assistance in taking care of them,” He says calmly, his fingers intertwined as they rest on the desk in front of him. “Feed them before you go off to dinner, accommodate their sleeping arrangements and clean up after them before morning check-ins,” he decides. You sigh softly. At this point, as long as Clarisse wasn’t on the hunt to kill you, you were okay with it.

As Chiron dismisses you, you catch the satisfied smile Clarisse was sporting, and you felt your anger swirling in your chest. You grunt as you turn on your heels, Travis and Connor behind you as Percy walks by your side. You sigh, lazily trotting off the steps of the big house,

“This...”

“Sucks,” Percy finishes your sentence, and you nod, the both of you frowning.

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

“Stop biting me!” You complain, nudging off the crowd of bunnies from your arm. Percy laughs, seated on the floor beside you as he helps you make a nest of blankets big enough for the bunnies.

“They hate you,” he comments, amused. His smirk falls flat, and he hisses as one of them gets a good bite on his finger. “Ow!” He squints at the bunny before picking it up. It was your turn to laugh, and you watch curiously as he walks to one of the dressers and plopping it on top. “I don’t know who you are, but you’re in time-out,” he grumbles.

“Wait, that’s actually really smart!” You look down at the bunnies around you. “They can’t jump from that high!” As you reach for the closest bunny, they run out of your reach, squealing, and soon they were huddled under a bed.

Percy smiles as they disperse, “well, now they’ll leave us alone,” he says as he sits beside you to continue piling the extra blankets you found. “You should have let me play that rock-paper-scissors game with them,” Percy mentions.

The two of you were stuck making a makeshift bed for the Ares campers since Travis and Connor had to round up their cabin for curfew. Well, one of them could have done it, but they insisted that it was a two-person job. You said it was unfair if they skipped out and they offered to settle who will go with an intense rock-paper-scissors game; best of three. You had accepted the challenge and lost miserably.

"I should have known there was no point in trying with their luck."

"Yeah, you walked right into that."

You side-eye him, "anyways, you would have lost.”

“How are you so sure?”

"Because, you just would have," you say shortly, and you smile as he turns to you.

“Well, considering how lucky you've been all day," he says sarcastically, and you squint at him. "I would have had a better chance,” he gloats.

“You’ve been real sassy today,” you mumble, and he laughs. “It’s fine. There’s not that much to do anyway.” Carefully, you roll the sides of the blankets into a nest shape after Percy finishes piling them. You rise on your feet, “It’d sleep there if I were a bunny. What do you think?”

“I would too. It seems comfortable,” Percy smiles as he stands up.

"Are you losers done?" Clarisse walks into the cabin with bowls of water for her siblings, and you roll your eyes as she puts them on the ground.

"Yeah, is it to their liking?" You ask with fake politeness, straining a smile. Clarisse observes the bundle of blankets as her siblings get in to try it out. She furrows her eyebrows, listening attentively to the various squeals. She had inherited most of the bunny traits, and though she didn’t transform completely, she could understand what they were saying.

“Eh, it’s good enough,” she concludes after hearing all the complaints of her siblings. “I’m sick of seeing your faces; get out.” She didn’t have to tell you twice, and you don’t waste any time as you turn on your heels. You were sick of seeing her face too.

Walking down the steps of the Ares Cabin, Percy follows beside you. A slight hum comes from his lips, and you look over,

“I was wondering when you’d come back to sword fighting,” he mentions, and you nod, recalling that you had agreed to attend classes after sparing with him a couple of weeks ago. “Your brother has been coming more often; he’s gotten a lot better.”

“That’s why my body has been aching so much,” you mutter more to yourself. For the past week, you thought you were staining your body in your sleep.

“Huh?”

“Long story,” you wave your hand, and you think about his question.

If you were completely honest, you weren’t as depressed about what had happened anymore. After you talked with Percy, you had finally come to terms with many of the thoughts that were tormenting you. However, you still stayed locked up in the Hermes Cabin because in the past week or so, you’ve gotten so much studying done. You wanted to stay in and read, and you were planning on milking your excused absences for as long as you could. But now, you considered that maybe you should return to your normal activities. Connor and Travis were becoming more worried, so were Atticus and Lou Ellen.

“I could join tomorrow,” you say hesitantly, your heart fluttering as Percy’s face brightens up. “Are you that excited to beat me up?” You joke, and Percy laughs, shaking his head.

“No! It’s just… it’s weird not seeing you around.” He admits shyly as he looks away. The cool summer breeze blows on your warm cheeks, and you swallow,

“I’ll go tomorrow,” you confirm, sounding more sure of yourself this time. Once you approach the steps of the Hermes cabin, you turn to him. “Good night, Perce.”

The sides of Percy’s eyes crinkle as he nods, “Good night,” he says as he slowly backs away. “And try to wake up on time, yeah? I’m not feeding the Ares cabin alone tomorrow,” he teases. You did have a habit of being the last person to arrive at breakfast. He must have noticed.

“Yeah, yeah. Worry about yourself, waterboy.” You smile, hearing him scoff. Opening the door to the Hermes cabin, you look back at him one more time. You take in the wide grin on his face, and he nods,

“Got it. I’ll remember that when you’re being chased by Clarisse again.” Your mouth drops open, eyes glinting at his banter.

“You better go before the harpies eat you!” You shoo him away as he laughs, then with a short salute of his two fingers, he walks off to his cabin.

masterlist taglist: @xxyrr @nct127bee @mochabreezeee @minamisulemisa @yanfeisluvr @-thatgirloverthere- @sanovr @passionswift @nanskidoodle @Slytherclaw-kitten @zhethugisa

#my writing #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson x reader #percy x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson oneshot #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson and the olympians fanfiction #pjo fanfic #pjo x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson fluff

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jasonscaramel · 4 years

Text

Positions - The Mandalorian

Din Djarin x unnamed female reader (credit to gif maker up there I just work here)

warnings include: i was inspired by ariana grande’s new album, i also haven’t written in forever (much less for din—that’s never), 2.9k words, heterosexual sex, slight cockwarming, slight dom!din (but that’s all you’ll ever get from me)

author’s note before we get started: i have more of these planned so if you’re interested in being tagged let me know! also it has been forever since I've written so if you like it pls let me know

Being a multi-faceted human being isn’t that difficult, especially growing up in the middle of an endless galaxy. You were taught many valuable lessons growing up: cooking, farming, smuggling, hand to hand combat—the necessities to keep you alive. So upon your first ever meeting with a Mandalorian, it was no shock that he deemed you useful almost straight away.

Growing up with defected Imperial parents, the intelligence training you received from your paranoid parents was better than the Empire could offer. You were sneaky, sly, and downright deceptive when you needed to be. Talking a bounty into walking straight into their death was easy, as was putting them down yourself if you needed to.

You’re also a damn good babysitter. And kids love you.

All around, it was a no brainer for Din—after promising you passage to a nearby planet that ended up being a six month journey—to keep you on board. You were all attached to each other at that point, especially the kid. He found maternal energy quite soothing, and even if you weren’t his mother, it seemed as though having a woman to counteract all the Boy going on eased the little one’s mind.

So now you’re here, the kid strapped to your chest and Din by your side, the only thing in your way of the Razor Crest is the man holding a knife to your throat. He’s trying, and failing, to get ahold of the kid in the process. Din pulls out his blaster in a move to protect the both of you, and the knife shoves further in your neck.

“Come any closer and they’re dead!” The man shouts in your ear, and a squeal comes from the makeshift baby carrier on your chest. You look at Din, hoping desperately he’s making eye contact with you. You give him a single nod, then stomp on the man’s foot as hard as you can, moving to grab the knife from your pocket. The blade at your throat is piercing, but you ignore it to stab the knife into the man’s thigh. He finally pulls away in agony as you rip it out, only to shove it into his throat seconds later. He hits the ground with a thump, choking on blood, and the kid lets out a relieved huff.

“Let’s go, it’s freezing,” you say as your teeth chatter, wrapping your arms the kid and snuggling for dear life. You can feel the sticky warm blood trickling ever so slowly down your neck, but the wound doesn’t hurt.

Upon entering the Razor Crest and shutting the hatch, Din turns his attention to you. “Does it hurt?”

You give a slight chuckle, shaking your head. “It’s fine, Din. You get us in hyperspace, I’ll put the kid to bed and get cleaned up.” You left no room for arguments as you made your way over to the baby’s pram and began unraveling him from your chest. You noticed Din hadn’t moved yet, but you didn’t really mind. He’s very protective of his son, so it doesn’t affect you to have him watch you coddle the kid, coo at him and sing him to sleep, if only it puts Din’s mind a little more at ease. With the lives you live, it’s hard for either of you to have trust in anyone. The only way is to prove yourself, and you intend to do it every day. Maybe for a little more than trust, but hey, you’re not complaining having Din stare at you all the time.

By the time the kid is ready to lay down, the ship is up and beginning its course. You shut the little guy in on himself so nothing bothers him and head to the refresher. Looking in the mirror, you have a sizable cut on your throat, but it’s only surface damage. You wipe off the blood, put on the first antiseptic you can find and head out. Apart from that little scuffle, your day had been relatively uneventful. You stopped on this planet to get groceries and fuel, for maker’s sake.

Settling into the co-pilot’s seat, you turn to look at Din and find him already facing you. You give him a soft smile, reaching over and giving him three light taps on the beskar on his thigh. It was something you always did; it always comforted him, even though he never really knew what you meant by it. “You alright?” He sounds genuinely worried, and you imagine if you could see his face his brows would be furrowed in the cutest expression.

“Definitely,” you reassure him, lifting your head to expose the cut a bit more. “It’s superficial, no harm done.” You drop your head to give him a bigger smile for added convincing. “What’s on your mind?” You know he’s concerned, but there’s something else underneath it. There always has been something else with you two. It lies beneath every conversation, making its way in through comfortable silences and soft touches. It pulls at your heartstrings at the oddest of moments, like when he’s cleaning up spit up with his cape or gazing out at the stars in hyperspace when he thinks you’re not there.

“I just don’t like to see you hurt, is all. But you handle yourself well, so it’s hard to worry for too long.” You hear his tone get lighter as he finishes his short explanation, giving you a slight chuckle when he’s finished. You return it easily.

“Please, you have nothing to worry about. As long as I have you as back up, I can do anything.” It started as a simple sentence, but the longer your silence sat the deeper the meaning became. Neither of you broke the spell, just stared at the general direction of each other’s faces and hoping you were making eye contact. It made you giggle, and when he cocked his head to the side, you just shook yours.

“Well, I wa-“ Din was interrupted by a beep on your wrist, indicating the child had been moving around. You turned on the speaker and gave him soft reassurances and cooed a small lullaby.

You didn’t hear anything after that, so you returned your attention back to him. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?” You pulled your sleeve over the watch to show you were giving your undivided attention.

The words that come out of his mouth are so quiet you hardly hear them. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

A smile breaks out on your face, tears unwillingly welling in your eyes. “Me too, Din. Me too. I-“ You stopped yourself immediately. What were you going to say? Maker, you could think of a dozen. I love you. I want to touch you. I want to sit in your lap and feel safe.

You’re glad to hear the child crying from the speaker on your wrist.

It had been two months since your almost-talk with your favorite Mando. Since then, Din has parked on the edge of a rainy planet, leaving you and the child for the past week. Easy enough job, watching the ship and the kid, albeit incredibly boring. By day two you were considering what card games the child would understand. By day five, you took to cleaning the entire ship.

Din came back on day eight, the day where you decided to fix up whatever you could laying around. Granted, you’re not a mechanic, but you’ve hot wired enough ships in your day to know a thing or two. It’s basic things at first, fixing loose wires and buttons, tightening bolts. After poking around for long enough, you think you find a decent enough project in fixing the nest of wiring in the cockpit, so you get to work.

It’s not much more than busy work, so when the child started crying you let him sit in your lap and help you work. After doing more harm than good for a solid half hour, you began to try to teach him the task at hand. He couldn’t grasp the entire idea of what you were doing, but he was doing a great job at handing you the wires you needed.

It was a while before you heard the ship make it’s familiar noises as Din came onboard. You heard the bounty pleading, the whoosh of the carbonite, but you didn’t hear his footsteps come closer so you continued your task. The child was beginning to have enough, you could tell he was getting tired, but knowing Din was here you wanted to keep him up as long as possible. Give Din more of a break after working so hard.

“Hand me the blue one,” you paused, watching the child’s little hand reach for the wrong wire. “You don’t know colors, do you?” Sighing, you moved his hand a little to the left to put him back on course. “That’s blue.” He made a noise in acknowledgment, handing you the wire to clip underneath the control panel.

You heard Din finally making his way up as the child handed you another wire. “Red! Thanks, buddy.” He gave you a small, sweet sound before turning to look at Din. You followed suit, looking up from your seat on the floor. The child wrestled his way out of your arms, waddling over to his father and lifting his arms. Din picked him up, holding him tight and rocking back and forth slightly to soothe him. It was the cutest thing you’d ever seen, and you don’t even think he realized he was doing it.

“How’d it go? You alright?” You asked Din as you rose from the floor, dusting your hands on your pants. Giving him a once over, you don’t see any blood leaking from anywhere, so that’s a good sign.

“I’m fine, he just wasn’t that easy to track down.” Din kept his eyes on the little one, watching as his eyes drifted open and shut. He was fighting sleep, but Din could always get him to knock out quick.

“If you want to go put him down and get dried off, I’ll get us going to our next destination.” You could hear the rain beating down on the Razor Crest, so there’s no telling how much water snuck it’s way between skin and beskar. He gave you a gentle nod, turning and making his way down to the refresher. The baby’s pram was next to his cot, so he could do everything in one place.

As the ship began its kick into hyperspace, you heard Din’s heavy footsteps make their way closer to you. Turning on auto-pilot, you jump over to the co-pilot seat to give Din his back. When he sits, he double checks the coordinates, and once he realizes you’ve done it all right, he slumps into his chair. You reach over, tapping three times on his thigh.

“I can take care of this if you want to sleep,” your voice was soft, imagining him dozing off like the child was earlier under that helmet.

He tensed, shaking his head without looking at you. “I’m not tired.” His fingers twitched, reaching for a lever and gripping it hard. Reading him was always incredibly difficult, but the more you’re around him the more he lets out his emotions in physical cues. He seems frustrated, restless, was the bounty that bad?

“Then what can I do to help? You seem... tense.” The sharp intake of air was audible through the helmet, so you followed your gut and placed your hand on his thigh.

“Cyar’ika...” his voice trails off, as tense as his body. He’d never called you anything but your name, especially not something this soft, and you found yourself moving to situate on your knees, in between Din’s. Looking up at him, you could see the beskar of his chest rising and falling at a rapid pace. You ran your hands up and down his thighs, gazing up into—what you hoped were—his eyes.

“Is this okay?”

He cleared his throat, nodding his head. “More than.” After you hear those beautiful, consenting words, you immediately get to work. You reach for the waistband of everything you could get your hands around and pull. Luckily, Din helps you and before you know it his pants around his ankles and his cock is right at eye level. You take a moment, eyes widening once you finally realize where you’re trying to fit that thing. Din shifts in his seat with nervous energy, and you remember he can actually see you, so you continue. Soft kisses up and down his thighs, the occasional bite soothed with your tongue, all while pumping him with your spit slicked hand. Making your way back up his thighs, you kiss up his balls and shaft, giving the tip a kitten lick before you take him in your mouth. The groan that emanates from the helmet drives you further, doing your best to get used to his size. You moan when he finally hits the back of your throat, and Din grabs your hair with a growl.

“I need—I want...” Din stops, panting, desperately trying to pull you off his dick by your hair. You comply, jerking him softly while looking up at him.

“Tell me what you want and it’s yours. Don’t hold back.” Your voice comes out raspier than normal, and you feel Din’s cock twitch in your palm.

“I need to fuck you.” You could feel his need even through the vocoder, so you let go of his cock and—after removing your clothing from the waist down, wearing nothing but a tunic—moved to sit on his lap. Din grabbed you by your hips, pulling you close and hovering over right where he wanted to. Slowly, fingertips digging deliciously into your skin, he guides you onto the tip of his cock. You share a moan as he stretches you, slowly but surely, as you feel like you’re going to split in half.

“Kriff, Din,” you whine, finally seating your hips against his. He runs his gloved hands up and down your sides in an attempt to soothe before resuming their iron grip on your hips. “You’re huge.” You smile when you hear a deep, gritty chuckle through his helmet, and once you feel his guiding pressure on your hips, you finally begin moving.

It’s slow at first; your hands doing all the touching as you got used to one another’s bodies. As Din got more comfortable, he began thrusting into you, taking over your pace and morphing it into something faster, yet equally close. He pulls you so close your chest is tight against his, your head moving to bury itself in his neck. As his pace grew, your hands gripped onto his shoulders, holding on for dear life.

It was the best sensation you’d ever felt in your life. The stretch was just enough for an extra sense of pleasure, and the way he kept hitting your g-spot on the way out had you seeing stars. You press your lips against the tiniest bit of skin you can find, your fingers desperately trying to find purchase on his shoulders.

“Maker, Din, please.” You didn’t even know what you were begging for—it sounded like your voice came from far away, like it wasn’t you. He felt so good and strong and sturdy and his soft grunts and groans were filling your ears solely to heighten your pleasure. Everything about him made you want to never let go, keep him just like this forever.

“You going to cum for me, cyar’ika?” His tone is playful as his thrusts get rougher and out of rhythm. You know you won’t last long and neither will he.

“Need it, Din. Please.” Your sobs of pleasure are almost drowned out by the beskar on his shoulder, but he hears you—he always does. His left hand leaves your hip and trails down to where the two of you meet. He traces his fingers over your pussy, and where it meets his cock, then moves to your clit and begins his wonderful torture.

You’re so close, and he’s so good, rubbing your clit just right while his cock splits you open. You hear him breathe your name from under the helmet, followed by a string of curses you can’t begin to comprehend, and you let go, squeezing tight around him as your thighs shake. Din thrusts once, twice more before he’s buried as deep as he possibly can be and comes inside of you. The warmth inside of you makes you shiver with the contrast of the coldness of the cockpit.

The both of you are out of breath, holding onto each other tightly as you try to regain your bearings. His hands reach around you, encompassing your body in a hug as he runs his hands up and down your back. Upon realizing your legs are still shaking, he moves his soothing motions to your thighs.

“You’re amazing.” Mumbling into his neck, you grab at one of his hands and hold on for dear life. “I don’t wanna move.”

“Did I wear you out that well?” Despite the vocoder, you could hear the smile in Din’s voice. You share a laugh, and upon mellowing out, you give his hand three little squeezes. “Alright, cyar’ika, just a little bit longer.”

His gaze stays on the streams of stars as he holds your hand, rubs your back, and whispers sweet nothings in your ear. A little bit longer with you could never hurt.

#the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin smut #din djarin #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x reader

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briefinquiries · 4 years

Text

Luke Alvez x Reader: Seeing Red

Request: “Can I request an imagine where Luke is jealous of someone the reader is interacting with? Thank you :)”

Tagged: @ssaic-jareau , @alvezstan , @saintd0lce , @ogmilkis, @reidswords , @ssa-morgan , @garcias-batcave , @akimagies, @zhangyixingxing1 , @pinkdiamond1016

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: none

A/N: kjsdkljfa sweet baby luke being all insecure made me so soft, i luv him sm. pls come talk to me about luke.. ok enjoy!

You had been doing it all day. Maybe not intentionally, but enough for Luke to notice. Luke wasn’t the jealous type. He was secure, and he felt confident in his relationship with you. Jealousy was stupid, and Luke wasn’t stupid. So why was he noticing the way you and the deputy of the Austin field office naturally interacted with each other with such ease?

Luke had a case file in hand. It was pertinent that he remain focused on his assigned task. And he tried, he really did. He was reviewing victimology, reading up on what the Austin PD had on each of their missing women. Or at least attempting to.

But when the deputy made a joke and reached out to touch your arm for added effect, Luke started seeing red.

He had to read the page four times before comprehending any of it.

Throughout the remainder of the team’s time in Austin, Luke tried to remain level headed. He kept reassuring himself that he was overreacting. This wasn’t flirting.

Emily had sent you to go with him to visit the latest crime scene upon your arrival, so he was probably just trying to be friendly- make you feel welcome.

But did he really have to look at you like that while you delivered the profile? Or request that you take a ride to the latest victim’s apartment with him? And did he really have to have you doubled over laughing over something he’s said at the back table?

Luke’s biting back the urge to cross the room and wrap his arms around you, right in front of the deputy who was simultaneously doubling as an apparent comedian. Maybe if he pulled you in for a long kiss, it’d get this joker to back off, as he claimed you as his.

But Luke shook the thought away. He was definitely overreacting.

…

Luke drops a coffee cup in front of you early the next morning. The team was still working the case in Austin, and with no new leads, it seemed likely that you’d be here for a while. You’re hunched over a pile of paperwork, a piece of banana bread in your hand.

Luke watches as you flash him an appreciative smile. “Thanks, but I’ve already had some today. Why don’t you give this to Tara? She takes her coffee the same as I do.”

But Luke frowns. “When did you have time to get coffee?” he asks, already knowing that you’d been in the precinct all night.

Without even looking up from the file in front of you, you reply, “I didn’t, Henry brought me one, and this bread. You gotta try some, it’s his grandma’s recipe-”

Luke’s jaw drops. A gesture you don’t notice, because you’re too busy focusing on banana bread. What you do notice, is the way he scoffs lightly. It makes your head turn.

By the time you look up, Luke’s already standing up. He grabs the coffee off from the table harshly, and without a word, drops the full cup in the trash can before exiting the room.

…

He wasn’t angry.

At least not at you.

You and Luke had a solid relationship. He trusted you and that was all there was to it. Whether it was Henry, or another coworker, or any of your male friends, or whoever- Luke wasn’t worried and you never gave him a reason to be.

But Luke didn’t like the way seeing you with the deputy made him feel. Like at any moment, you could leave him for someone with dirty blonde hair and fair skin and biceps bigger than his. It made him feel vulnerable, like he had something to lose- because he had everything to lose.

…

The team spends six grueling days in Austin before catching the Unsub responsible for kidnapping and murdering 3 women.

Luke had been avoiding you for the vast majority of the week. He’d work late hours, leave the room when you entered, never meet your gaze. It was more for his own sanity than anything. This sudden realization that you could do better, and honestly deserved better than him, was all consuming. It made focusing on the case incredibly difficult.

Luke’s gathering his remaining items from the precinct, the jet waiting for him and the rest of the team, when he hears it.

Luke looks up from the table to see the deputy approaching you. He’s too far away to hear what he’s saying, but not so far so that he doesn’t see the folded note that he passes you.

In an instant, Luke’s entire face falls. He felt like screaming.

On the jet ride home, Luke sits between Emily and Matt, which was unusual. Typically, the two of you spent rides home together.

He was dreading the car ride home from the BAU. That would be the first time the two of you would be alone since the coffee incident. He may have been a little dramatic, without meaning to. Luke didn’t want to be the jealous boyfriend. Jealousy was unfair and manipulative and gross. But the idea of another guy buying you coffee, or making you laugh, or giving you his phone number on a folded up piece of paper, made his stomach churn. The truth was, he didn’t want to lose you.

But Luke didn’t know how to say that to you without coming across as a total lunatic.

He’d have to figure it out before landing at the BAU.

…

You don’t want to cause a scene on the jet. But the minute you and Luke are alone at the BAU office together, you corner him strategically at his desk.

“What the hell?” is all you can manage to blurt out. You’re fuming and on the verge tears, Luke’s silent treatment was just about pushing you to the edge. You’d spent the past week focused more on why Luke was suddenly so mad at you than you on the actual case.

There’s a long pause, Luke refusing to meet your gaze.

“Are you gonna tell me why you’ve been avoiding me all week?”

You’re met by silence.

“You’re being childish. Are you really not gonna talk to me?”

Finally, Luke turns to you, and says slyly, “That deputy gave you his number, right? Why don’t you call him? I’m sure he’d love to talk.”

In an instant, a wave of understanding washes over you.

“Are you- are you jealous of Henry?” you ask, unable to hide the hint of a smirk spreading across your face. The idea of Luke being jealous of a deputy from Austin, Texas seemed absolutely ludacris. It was so far fetched that it seemed perfectly reasonable to cross your arms and laugh at your fuming boyfriend.

He rolls his eyes. “No,” he scoffs.

He knows you don’t believe him.

There’s a brief pause before he sputters, “Maybe.”

The smirk on your face only grows bigger. Luke grabs his bag off from his desk before pushing past you, muttering a quick, “So what?” on his way by.

But you turn around and keep pace with him, looping your arm through his. You’re pleased when he doesn’t pull away.

“Baby,” you coo, a playful tone to your voice, you tug at his arm to stop him from walking any further. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

Luke turns his body to face you, but his gaze doesn’t quite meet yours.

“Because jealousy is stupid, and it’s for couples who don’t trust each other, and I trust you.” He pauses and bites his lip before whispering, “You know you could have anyone you wanted.”

You drop the smirk, because you realize Luke was actually bothered by this. You squeeze his hand gently. “What are you talking about?”

“Seeing you with that guy, seeing him gawk over you- it just made me realize that you can do so much better than me,” Luke says quietly, because it’s true.

You’re shaking your head before he even finished his sentence, because the idea of anyone ever being better than Luke was even more ludicrous than him being jealous in the first place.

You reach into your pocket and pull out the note the deputy had given you just hours earlier. Luke watches as you unfold the piece of paper.

Luke quickly sees that it’s not a phone number.

“It’s his grandma’s banana bread recipe,” you explain. “I told him how much you liked banana bread, and that I wanted to make some for you, so he gave it to me..” your voice trails off. “I talked about you a lot actually- but that’s not unusual. I always talk about you a lot.”

You watch as the realization that washes over Luke quickly turns into embarrassment. He fumbles with his words.

“I-I uh.”

But you spare him. “I want you, Luke. And you are exactly what I need, okay?”

Luke blinks as he watches you take a step closer to him. Your arms wrap around his waist, and you pull him so that you’re flush against his body. Luke’s own arms wind around you as he looks down at you, his brown eyes glistening.

“Banana bread, huh?” he muses.

You nod. “Seems like you have quite the competition.”

He smirks, “Man versus yeast.”

You roll your eyes and plead, "Will you just shut up and kiss me?"

Luke leans in, pressing his lips to yours, slow and steady, tasting and feeling every crack and every inch of those lips that you haven’t kissed for days.

988 notes · View notes

jimlingss · 4 years

Text

Sugar and Coffee [5]

Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 5.5 OR Chapter 6

➜ Words: 4.2k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

Life won’t give you a break. The moment midterms are complete, you have to begin preparing for finals. While the urge to bury yourself underneath your covers and pull the blanket over your head has lessened, you still don’t want to venture out into the world. But there’s no way to resist the inevitable. You can’t let your schooling go down the drain — it’s the only thing you’ve got going for yourself after all. 5:49 pm. Jungkook: where u at bitch? 5:50 pm. Y/N: im on the toilet asshole 5:50 pm. Y/N: call me a bitch again and ill kill you 5:50 pm. Jungkook: Gross tmi 5:52 pm. Jungkook: can i ask you for a favour tho pls You wash your hands after wiping, flushing and pulling up your pants. 5:54pm. Jungkook: dont leave me on read 5:55 pm. Y/N: clingy much 5:55 pm. Y/N: the hell do you want from me 5:55 pm. Jungkook: lovely as usual 5:56 pm. Jungkook: I need the notes for comm 209 You scoff as you re-read the message. He has some audacity asking for your notes for a class he skipped on a Friday afternoon, probably to hang out with his friends instead. But before you tell him to gladly ‘fuck off’, you’re stopped by an idea. He needs something from you and there’s something you need from him. Now’s the perfect opportunity. “Tempering chocolate?” “Yeah. You want to be a Master Chocolatier, right? This is a great opportunity to teach someone how to do it. They say you know your stuff when you can teach others.” Jungkook rolls his eyes at your shamelessness and how you’re trying to milk him to your advantage. “Somehow I think this far outweighs the favour of me getting your notes.” “Do you want to help me or not?” “Do I want to?” He looks unsure but gives in to your will anyways, or at least he's curious enough to hear your troubles. “What’s your issue with tempering chocolate?” “It just doesn’t temper right. There’s no snap or shine to it.” “Do you measure the temperature with a kitchen thermometer?” “Well obviously, Jeon. Noooo,” you pull out the syllable, voice dripping of sarcasm. “I dip my hand in to tell. Duh! Are you an idiot? What do you think?!” At once, Jungkook’s expression washes over, becoming impassive. He spins around on his heel to walk out the door, but you grab onto his sleeve desperately. “I’m kidding. It’s a joke. Sorry. Help me?” He shifts around to look at you. You’re busy batting your lashes with those eyes of yours, trying to appeal to him — it disgusts Jungkook instead. It makes him feel sick to his stomach that you’re trying to act cute when you’re obviously a brat in disguise. Yet somehow he finds himself in the kitchen on a late Tuesday night anyhow, despite having class early in the morning the next day. “What method do you use?” Jungkook asks with crossed arms as you pull out the right materials, silver bowls, chocolate, thermometers, and a cooking pot. “Which is easier?” “They’re all the same,” he deadpans. Jungkook’s arrogance irritates you but you’re not about to insult him and have him running out of the kitchen, so you restrain yourself and start with the seeding method. You chop the solid chocolate you have into smaller pieces while he watches you in boredom. After a minute, Jungkook pulls out his phone and scrolls through his social media so he can mentally stimulate himself and not have his brain cells dying on themselves. “Only three quarters of it goes into the bowl to be melted,” he says without looking up. If he did, it would occur to him that you’ve already got it prepared and on top of the double boiler too. “I know.” “Do you want me to help or not?” “When I ask for it.” Jungkook’s eyes flicker up. “Well didn’t you ask for my help?” “Not now, Jeon.” You sigh. It was quite profound how quickly the bastard could get under your skin for doing so little. “God, you can be so fucking—” He suddenly puts his hand up to silence you and he sniffs with that big fucking nose of his. “Why do I smell burning?” Jungkook looks over to your pot on the stove and notices it steaming oddly. You follow his line of sight and take your bowl off, hissing at how hot it is. “Careful,” he scolds and looks over. Jungkook nearly facepalms himself into a coma. “Oh my god, you forgot to add water into the double boiler?!” “It’s because you were distracting me!” you shout at him and run over to the sink to add it in. The water begins burning as it hits the hot double boiler, sizzling and smoking even more. Jungkook groans. “You’re supposed to help me, not look at your phone! Maybe I would’ve realized if you actually paid any attention!” “Fine, fine.” You add an inch of water to the double boiler. It’s an improvement. But then as it begins to steam properly with the candy thermometer in the chocolate as you agitate it with a spatula, you look down and your blood runs cold. “Oh shit.” “What?” Jungkook sighs. Frankly, it’s impressive you’ve made it this far into the program. He didn’t know you were such an idiot in the kitchen — you might as well burn the whole place down and he wouldn’t be surprised. “How’d you manage that?” You rush to grab a paper towel, trying to dab the water that got into the bowl. But Jungkook clicks his tongue. “Don’t bother. You have to start again. If you get water into the chocolate, it makes it seize and becomes unstable.” “How do you know that?!” “Do you even read your textbook?” He is appalled and you pull out the cutting board to chop chocolate all over again, starting from the beginning. Jungkook sighs, spinning around his stool as you repeat the steps and put the chocolate over the heat. “You know what the temperature needs to be, right?” “A hundred fifteen. I’m not an idiot.” “I don’t know about that,” he chimes. “You forgot to add water to a double boiler.” Your arm drops to the side, putting the spatula down. “Okay, fuck you. I haven’t seen you actually give me good advice or anything. I asked for your help, not for you to berate me.” “What advice do you need?” His brow cocks upwards. “It’s pretty self-explanatory. Just follow the procedure and you’ve got yourself tempered chocolate!” “I can’t believe I thought you could ever teach me!” you hiss at him. “You’re a condescending asshole.” “Excuse me? Guess who’s with you on a Tuesday night?! I’m an angel for helping you!” “No one asked you to!” you scream back at the top of your lungs. Jungkook scoffs. Any other time where he wasn’t being attacked, he’d recognize that you were returning to your former self, but he still doesn’t appreciate your brattiness. “Are you kidding m— God! What’s burning now?!” Him and that giant nose of his inhales and a delayed moment later, it hits you too. The both of you whirl around to where the chocolate is burning. “You forgot to stir!” “It’s not like you reminded me to! You’re a distraction!” It’s excruciating. Jungkook has a feeling he’s going to be here all night, so he helps you speed up the process. While you clean up the mess, he chops more chocolate. And this time, you both manage to get it in the bowl, stirring, without anything burning whatsoever. The chocolate goes to a hundred fifteen degrees before you remove it from the heat and add the rest of the chocolate you reserved on the side. The temperature is brought down to eighty six degrees and then you put it back on the boiler to melt it all at ninety degrees. A strip test is done, a streak of chocolate made on parchment. And for a whole two minutes, you wait for it to set. But it doesn’t. “What the hell…?” Jungkook is genuinely perplexed and finally, he gets what you’ve been talking about. “See? It just doesn’t work!” He shakes his head, refusing to admit defeat. “It must’ve increased in heat before we added the other chocolate in. Let’s try again.” The pair of you chop chocolate across from each other, silent in your determination. But when you glance up, you see Jungkook’s brows furrowed, thoughts probably lost. You don’t see him serious often — well you do, but you never paid much attention to him before. Not like now. The process is repeated. The chocolate is melted to a hundred fifteen degrees and then decreased down to eighty six as you add in the loose chocolate, and then it’s brought back up again…. But then the temperature begins climbing — faster than you and Jungkook can react. “Fuck, fuck.” The two of you help each other take the bowl off the pot in urgency and then press your burning fingers to your ears before running it under cold water. “It went to a hundred? Do you think it’ll be okay?” “I don’t know. We have to test it.” The strip test is done, but the chocolate never sets. It stays wet. Dull. “Mother fuc—” “We’ll try again,” Jungkook reassures you with a hand on your shoulder. It’s painful having to re-doing everything and going way later into the night than you initially intended. You feel like you’re being driven crazy, but you’re glad Jungkook’s here with you — you know you’re not going insane alone. You look back at your textbook and your notes, making sure you’re doing it right and you hope for the best in the next batch. “It set….but it’s so streaky.” You look up at Jungkook who’s an inch away. He hums and leans down to get a closer look. “It’s bloom. The lipids moved through the cracks of the chocolate.” “You think it’s because the kitchen’s too hot?” “Yeah, we should try to put it in the fridge to cool.” One last attempt is made. It takes twenty more minutes and then it’s put in the fridge. But after the chocolate sets, there’s no shine or snap. Jungkook finds slumped on the floor, spooning chocolate, one of the failed attempts, into your mouth. You’re hugging the silver bowl in your lap like it’s your anchor. “I give up.” It feels like you’ve gone through a thousand batches. The kitchen is an absolute mess — spatulas and tasting spoons littered on the counter, double bowlers and bowls, wasted chocolate everywhere. There’s a sink-full to wash and that alone makes you want to cry. You slurp up more chocolate in an attempt to feel better. “Fuck chocolate.” But why does it have to taste so delicious? “I don’t understand why it’s so hard,” Jungkook admits with a frown. It just doesn’t seem to work with you. “It’s not rocket science. It was fine when I did it.” “Fuck you. You’re not supposed to boast. You’re supposed to help me.” “Was the last two and a half hours not helping you?” he questions. “You just have to watch your temperatures and keep practicing.” “That’s helpful.” “Hey, I’m trying.” Jungkook pisses you off. Everything comes so easy for him. As chocolate destroys you, he’s out here wanting to be a chocolatier. But maybe it suits him — chocolate’s an asshole and so is he. “I’d like to see you try to caramelize sugar as well as I can, or better yet, pipe flowers.” The boy scoffs, looking down at you and your patheticness. You don’t even realize you have chocolate all over your mouth. “That’s easy.” “I worked at a cupcake shop for three summers.” You stand up on your feet, facing him head on. “You think you can beat me in piping flowers?” “I think I can do better than you can temper chocolate.” Jungkook smirks arrogantly, enough to push you off the edge. “Let’s bet on it then!” “Fine. How much?” You have a better idea than money. “Loser has to cover for the winner during the internship in May. Whenever the winner goes on break or makes a mistake.” He scoffs. It’s a big wager but it sounds delightful when he knows you’re going down. “Deal.” // It’s a busy Thursday, but that doesn’t stop any of you. Even after a long day of classes, sitting in lecture halls listening to theory to working in the kitchens, you find yourselves a spare kitchen space afterwards to finally put this all to rest. You won’t tell Jungkook that you practiced all of yesterday by yourself and actually got it to work once — you nearly started to cry out of happiness when the chocolate tempered. “You want me to make this?” Jungkook looks at the picture on your phone. “Yep. I made it last summer using buttercream. They’re peonies. Why? Think it’s too hard?” He scoffs. “As if. Watch, I’ll make it better than you did.” “Uh-huh. Keep talking, Jeon.” Jungkook eagerly takes on your challenge. While you take up half the kitchen, he manages the other half, and the two of you share the center island together. You get your double boiler ready, chopping up chocolate to melt while Jungkook mixes butter, vanilla, confectioner's sugar, and milk together. The fucker doesn’t even use a hand mixer. He simply uses a spoon to make it, blatantly showing off as his veins in his forearm pop. He smirks when he notices you staring and you roll your eyes. Jungkook makes a variety of colours, pastel pinks and baby blues, and puts them into the piping bag as you stir the chocolate over the heat. You focus on the numbers on your thermometer, but out of the corner of your eye, you watch him. He cuts squares of parchment, puts one on a flower stand, adds a small cone of thick buttercream to the paper, and then picks his tip. You muse that he must’ve been doing his studying when he chooses a one twenty seven tip. It’s a straight teardrop shape, and he squeezes while turning the nail wide ends towards the center, narrow end outwards. But he sighs after a moment, hands halting. It’s your turn to smirk. “Not so easy, is it?” His eyes flicker up to glare at you. “Keep a watch on that chocolate before you burn it again, brat.” You scoff, continuing to stir. You keep your heat low so the temperature climbs slowly. In the meanwhile, Jungkook switches his tip out for a one twenty and tries again. You take a glance, and it’s not too bad — still sloppier than yours and he knows it too. After a moment of frustration, he switches to a one twenty two. “You should check the consistency of that buttercream,” you sing-song. “Can’t be too stiff or soft.” “I’m fully aware.” “Are you?” You smile at him, mockingly so. “Just making sure.” Jeon Jungkook doesn’t appreciate you provoking him, but realizes it’s similar to how he treated you. It’s not his fault his forte isn’t in teaching. And yours clearly isn’t either. “A one twenty five?” You scoff. “Are you trying to make a rose or a peony?” Jungkook’s smile is stiff. “What do you suggest I use then?” “Go back to the one twenty seven tip or pick a curved teardrop shape. Also, you’re squeezing too hard too fast, muscle pig.” “I know something else I squeeze too hard too fast,” he mutters as he follows your instructions. “Go fuck yourself, Jeon.” “Didn’t need to spell it out, sweetheart, but that’s exactly what I do every night.” He smirks and you roll your eyes again. “God, you’re going to make me throw up all over my chocolate.” You take it off the heat once it reaches a hundred fifteen degrees, putting the rest of your chocolate in and mixing. You have a good feeling about this batch. Even if it’s your first try of the day too. Usually you’d rush, get too impatient, but it’s entertaining to see Jungkook struggle. Time goes by faster. You mix in your chocolate, bringing the temperature back up again, and you do a strip test when it’s all nicely melted, putting it in the fridge. All there’s left to do is wait a few minutes now. You come back, dusting your hands off, feeling confident. Meanwhile, Jungkook is still piping flowers with his thick brows furrowed, the tip of his tongue peeking out as he concentrates. “It’s taking you a while there, Jeon.” “Whatever.” He sighs, resting his hands on the counter as he rolls his neck. “You had a full three hours practicing with me on Tuesday. This is the first time in a while that I’m piping, alright? Give me a break.” “Uh-huh. All I hear are your excuses. Less talk, more work.” You grab some parchment and an icing bag he’s left abandoned in a cup. With a flower needle, you begin piping yourself to pass the time. It’s actually one of your favourite things to do — it’s therapeutic. You can listen to the sound of your own breathing and the crinkling of the piping bag while you make literal flowers from your hands. You break out of your focus to find Jungkook watching you intently. Your arm extends, showing off your flower with pride. “Pretty, right?” The icing flower has perfect ruffles and petals. It looks real, and by the expression he has, he’s already aware. Jungkook grumbles incoherently and returns back to work, making you giggle. You take another piece of parchment, but this time you steal a spatula-full of his blue icing and put it in the pink bag to make two-tone flowers. And you pipe them on, spinning the flower nail, as it comes to you with ease. You listen to the crinkling of the icing bag, your heartbeat in your own ears, the white noise of the quiet kitchen, and Jungkook’s breathing. You’re not sure what compels you, perhaps a sudden urge, but you quietly blurt— “I never stole your millie cake recipe.” “What?” His eyes flicker up and Jungkook finds you concentrating on piping, not paying him any mind. “The September incident,” you murmur out of the corner of your mouth. “I never stole your mirror glazed blueberry whatever millie cake recipe like you think I did.” Maybe you’re telling him because things are different now. You know he won’t jump down your throat and accuse you otherwise, for lying, or trying to cover yourself. Won’t denounce you. Bark out in laughter. Your relationship with Jungkook has become strange recently — you think it’s something other people would call a friendship. But you thought he should know. Just in case he still hates you for it. You know you don’t hate him so much anymore. “You threatened to go up to the Dean and expel me, remember?” Your pupils flicker up for a moment. Jungkook recalls it clearly — the confrontation in the kitchen, the fight that broke out, how you slapped him, how he was planning to do everything possible to get you expelled. How you were ostracized over the rumours for weeks until people forgot and moved on as they naturally did. But you and Jungkook never did. You always both remembered. “I went to Mrs. Ahn before she left on maternity leave. I was stuck — didn’t know what to add to my portfolio, so I asked her. And she gave me your recipe as a reference. Told me to give it a try. Gain inspiration from it.” You put your hands down, connecting your eyes with his. Jungkook is rendered speechless. “And that was when I saw you…?” “Yep. You busted into the kitchen without letting me explain and accused me of stealing your shit when I didn’t even know it belonged to you. I didn’t know you were the one who came up with it.” “Why…” He shakes his head, frowning deep enough that it hurts. “Why didn’t you say anything?” “You didn’t deserve it. The truth. I knew I was right and I was so….so mad that you could accuse me of stealing, that I could even be capable of such a thing. I wanted you to bring it up to the Dean. I wanted you to do it so you could be embarrassed when you realized what actually happened.” It’s all in the past now. Your anger doesn’t surge as much anymore, but you can still recall a time when you felt utterly enraged he could think so lowly of you — a time when Jungkook didn’t deserve your explanation, so you slapped him. In hindsight, it was probably a bad decision on your part. You escalated the situation when it didn’t need to and it spiraled out of control. You’re at fault for being rash and impulsive as much as he is. “It wasn’t like I was going to use it anyway,” you mutter with a sigh and pick up a new square of parchment to continue piping. “For inspiration or whatnot, much less add to my own portfolio. I swapped the blueberries for blackberries, and it turned out to be disgusting. I messed up on the glaze part too.” You muse, “Chocolate’s never been nice to me.” Jungkook absolutely baffled. Bewildered. All of this hatred against each other was caused by a misunderstanding. All of it which could’ve been avoided. “I—” “Wow, are you kids practicing your techniques?” Miss. Kang is at the door, visibly impressed as she regards you both. “And here I was on my way home. You two are so diligent! And look at you both working together like this! I always knew you put your differences aside and be friends.” “You have great timing, Miss. Kang.” You smile at her. “Jungkook and I were just having a friendly contest. Would you like to be our judge?” “Sure. I think I can spare a moment or two.” She steps in, looking around. “What are we doing here? Looks like someone was tempering chocolate and you’re….piping! Goodness, me. Did you make those, Y/N? They’re very lovely.” “Thank you.” You grin, beaming from the praise of your piping skills. “But the contest was me tempering chocolate against Jungkook piping.” You move over to the fridge, taking out the metal tray with your strip test. You hand it to her, and she hums. “Very shiny, and it slides right off the parchment!” she exclaims. For the final examination, the young female teacher bends the chocolate and it audibly snaps. You could burst out into cries of happiness. “Looks tempered to me.” You look over at Jungkook, head quirked to the side, wearing a big smile that’s infectious enough to make him grin too. “Here’s my piping.” He places the parchment on the counter and she leans over to study it, humming. “Not too bad, Jungkook. A little messy around the edges, but I’d say a job well done. If this was an actual exam, I’d give you full marks.” Jungkook cocks a brow towards you, sly smirk on his face. You step forward. “So which is better?” “Well, it’s very difficult to judge on tempering chocolate and piping since they’re two completely different things. I’d say it was equal.” “If you had to pick one?” you ask, desperate for a winner to be proclaimed. Miss Kang hums a long note. You and Jungkook are put in suspense, anticipating her final decision. She taps her chin, deciding to chew on your chocolate as she studies the flower. Finally, the teacher nods. “I can’t complain about the chocolate — it’s a hundred percent tempered. But I can say the piping needs a little more work, so…” “I win!” You give Jungkook a cheeky grin causing him to scoff lightly. “It was a stroke of luck.” “Keep telling yourself that, Jeon.” “It’s a tie,” he insists, “She said only if she had to pick.” “That’s true.” Miss. Kang backs him up before you can retort. But you still pout. “Sore loser. I win and you know it.” “Hmmm.” Jungkook playfully shakes his head. “Don’t think so. Let’s just call it even, Y/N.” “Nuh-uh. That’s not how it works!” The pair of you argue back and forth — yet there’s no real malice. It’s simply banter and it causes Miss. Kang to laugh. She bids her farewell and quips that you both better get the kitchen clean. In the end, Jungkook compromises. He still insists it’s a tie but he does the hard work of cleaning the dishes and you give into his will. As you prepare the mop water, he scrubs the bowls. “I’m sorry,” Jungkook pipes up after a second of quiet contemplation. He turns his head to look at you. “For the misunderstanding.” “You don’t have to be sorry.” You divert your vision elsewhere. “Not anymore. You’ve given me more reasons to be thankful. So we’ll call this even.” Jeon Jungkook smiles softly. “Deal.”

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #jungkook baking AU #jungkook baking!AU #btsboulangerie #Y'ALL THE FLUFF AND UWU IS SO MUCH I CAN BARELY TAKE IT

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cheesyficwriter · 4 years

Note

Hey! First of all, I loved that drunk Hermione fic. Will u pls write a angsty Romione smut fic with #6 of angst prompt list?

Hi Anon! I had so much fun writing drunk Hermione, so glad you enjoyed it. Thanks so much for the ask 💜 my first thought was that I actually have written something similar that fills the #6 angsty smut prompt (also includes "fuck you" as the prompt does 🤣), in a chapter of one of my completed multi-chapter fics, Lost in Translation. If you haven't read it, you can feel free to check it out here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28019949/chapters/68639082

Buuuut, I thought of another angle, so here you go 😀 rated M for mature themes and sexual situations.

One More Time

It was a Saturday night in late August and the Leaky Cauldron was filled to the brim with many young adult witches and wizards who previously attended Hogwarts. They gathered occasionally, once every few months, to catch up over pints and share stories from over the years.

Ron was seated on a stool at the bar, alternating between chatting about the Chudley Canons' most recent season with Seamus and flirting awkwardly with the unfamiliar blonde who had sidled up beside him only a few minutes after he had walked into the pub.

Yet, he didn't miss the flash of brown, curly hair that appeared and disappeared from his view frequently throughout the evening. And he was left entirely too frustrated by the notion that this particular person had their eye on him. After about the fifth occurrence, Ron grabbed his pint and politely excused himself from the disappointed woman next him, as he walked through the crowd, pausing at various points to greet old friends.

Old friends and lovers, that is. Ron stopped short just behind the familiar stature of one of his oldest friends, who also happened to be his ex-girlfriend. She was chatting away with Luna, seemingly oblivious to him standing behind her. It had been quite the year since they had decided, or rather Hermione had decided, they were best off going their separate ways. We argue too much, she had said, there is no way we can make this relationship work and we should end it before we lose our friendship completely. However, Ron thought bitterly to himself, there didn't seem to be much of a friendship left between them anyway. They had barely spoken over the recent months, instead exchanging only a few lackluster letters back and forth about their various travels and work endeavors. Of course, he had seen her quite a bit through mutual friend outings, but it was all very stiff and cordial. Their relationship wasn’t the same anymore and breaking up didn’t seem to resolve any issues between them.

From Ron's current position, he could see Hermione surreptitiously glance over to the spot at the bar where he once was, brows now furrowed over in confusion as she found the spot to be vacant. Luna cleared her throat and gestured for Hermione to look backwards and it was then that Hermione's head whipped around to face Ron, and her lips parted in surprise.

"Ron...hi," she breathed out quietly, almost too quietly to be heard over the boisterous noise in the room.

"Why are you watching me, Hermione?" His tone remained neutral and flat, not bothering with any sort of formal greeting.

Hermione instantly frowned at the question. He surveyed her face as it contorted into anger. "What are you going on about? I am not watching you."

“You are. I’ve caught you five...no, six times, if you count the last look I just witnessed.” He pointed to his previous seat at the bar. Hermione turned scarlet from his words and Ron could see a muscle in her jaw twitch.

“I’m surprised you’ve noticed anything with the way you were gawking over Rosie Cantini,” she sneered back. Was that the blonde’s name? Ron wouldn’t have known because he was too busy trying to sort out Hermione’s infuriating glances, although he would never admit that to her.

“You left me. You don’t get to come in here and act like a jealous girlfriend when I’m just trying to enjoy my night.”

Hermione scoffed in his face, as her nostrils flared. “Oh, that’s rich! I haven’t been bothering you, have I? And may I just point out that you are the one that approached me tonight. I am not jealous!”

“Sure you’re not,” Ron spat out, just before he stormed off towards the loo without bothering to wait for a response.

Hermione felt the rage pulse through her veins. She spun quickly on her heel and followed Ron determinedly to the opposite side of the pub, bypassing anyone who tried to get her attention along the way. She managed to reach the door he had dragged himself through just before it closed and she pushed it open wide with all of her might, fueled by the anger that flooded through her.

Ron's eyes went round as Hermione propelled her way into the restroom, slamming the door shut behind her with a flick of her wand. She added silencing and locking charms before turning towards Ron, her eyes blazing with fire.

“Are you bloody mental?” Ron shouted, his temper sparked by her invasion of privacy.

"If I am, so what? I'm not going to just let you run off in the middle of a conversation, like a petulant child! Is it too hard to think that we can both be civilized adults about all of this?"

"Fuck you."

Hermione’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Ron growled through gritted teeth, taking a step forward. Hermione’s breath caught in her throat as he had her effectively pinned now to the back of the door. “Fuck you, and your rules, your incessant nagging, and your constant need to always be right. For once, just admit that the sight of me with another woman drives you mad.”

Hermione’s pupils flared and her lower lip quivered slightly, as her rage-filled expression morphed into a burning one filled with desire.

Her lips were on Ron’s before he could even process the change in her tempered gaze. Ron let out a guttural moan as he pushed her hard into the door with a bang. One of his hands slid up to cup her cheek, his tongue gliding across her bottom lip just before he bit down on it, causing Hermione to whimper and dig her fingernails into his back. Ron’s other hand trailed its way down her body until he had firmly gripped her arse tight, driving her pelvis into his hardened erection poking through his trousers.

He lifted her up off the floor, her legs wrapping around his hips instinctively, and he deposited her bum down onto the cold, solid countertop next to the sink.

"Just one more time," Ron mumbled against her lips, already hiking her dress above her hips.

"Yeah….one more time," Hermione agreed through labored breaths, her hands undoing the buttons on his trousers. Although, they had said this very same statement one month ago, right before they shagged on Hermione's kitchen table. And the month before that, and the month before that…

In one fell swoop, Ron had shoved his trousers and boxers down to his knees and Hermione slid out of her knickers to reveal her pulsating flesh. Not even having to ask about protection, knowing Hermione always took the potion regularly, he positioned himself at her entrance and pressed into her until he filled her completely.

Both let out immediate grunts of pleasure, each comforted by the familiarity of the other’s body. Hermione gripped the edge of the countertop for leverage as Ron slammed into her over and over again. He buried his nose into the curls that bunched around Hermione’s shoulders and Hermione’s teeth grazed his shoulder through the cloth of his shirt. Neither took the time to comprehend the situation they had found themselves in, both instead choosing to absorb the sensation of skin against skin as they clung together.

Their pleasure-filled moans echoed off the silenced walls. The anger that had been building between them had boiled over and the fast release was mutually satisfying.

They didn’t speak. They never did, even when he would show up at her flat randomly, or when she would grab him by the arm at one of Ginny’s quidditch matches and pull him behind the stands.

"We can't keep doing this," Ron eventually whispered, his voice raw and hoarse.

"I know."

Ron nuzzled his nose with Hermione's. Her scent was intoxicating. Her body seemingly fit perfectly with his. No matter how hard he tried to fight it, he was consumed by her. He wasn’t quite sure if that feeling would ever go away.

"Come home with me."

Hermione’s eyes glistened as she stared into the depths of Ron’s deep blue orbs, not willing to look away. "Okay."

Maybe tomorrow would be the day they would finally let go. Or maybe not. Maybe they aren’t ready yet. Or maybe they never will be. Maybe they were both still clinging to the hope, the hope that the other person would realize that they are meant for each other and that there is just simply nothing else that matters.

#romione #romione fanfic #fanfiction #writing #writing prompt #cheesyficwriter #ron x hermione #ron weasley #hermione granger #smut #smut fic #angst #love

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duskypinkbow · 4 years

Text

Shitty weather II Jeff Wittek

summary: You meet Jeff again after a long period of time.

word count: 3,4k (upsy daisy)

note: This is my first fic ever so pls bear with me! :)

A veery very big shoutout to my lil angle @geoffwittek for proofreading and correcting my mistakes! Love u gurl u r the best 🎀

“The house could be packed“ Natalie took the time to warn you. You waved her off while putting your bag between your legs „that’s totally fine“.

As you two drove through LA traffic you looked out at the sky and noticed the clouds are getting grey. „it might rain today..“ you determined, while the two of you continued your conversation. Finally, you pulled up at her house, or to be more specific, David’s house she happened to be living in. Nat parked the car in front of the gate due to the fact that the entrance was already blocked by other cars. Your friend looked at her phone „yeeep“ she said as the scrolled through her messages „there is definitely something going on here…“ - „oh, well I can always leave right away if it gets too much“ you promised while unbuckling your seatbelt and making your way to the house.

„Daaaaavid!“ she screamed, falling to the ground in fear. „You can’t do that to me!“ she complained as her hands rested over her heart. The brown-haired boy giggled, his phone still recording in his hands. After putting it back in his pocket he helped Natalie stand up again. „That’s my idiot roommate..“ Natalie explained to you. „aaaaand boss“ he added smugly, smiling from ear to ear. He stuck his hand out towards you. „David“ he said - „y/n“ you introduced yourself in return.

Once the introductions were done, you observed a big living room further down the hallway. „Come with me…“ Natalie instructed “I’m gonna show you my closet“. You followed her steps through the living room, which was indeed packed with people. Some of them sitting on the big white couch while others were leaning on the kitchen island. Natalie greeted them with a shouted hello, while you just waved shyly in an attempt to symbolise a well meant greeting to all of them.

In the bedroom, your best friend showed you her very well organised closet filled with dresses and fancy skirts alike. „What size shoes are you?“ she asked. “umm.. y/s/s..“ you answered while looking through the endless hangers. „damn, so I can’t give you those fanc-„ before she could even finish her sentence a loud „Naaataaalieee“ came from the hallway. „ugh“ she groaned, reluctantly setting the pair of high heels down. “I’ll be right back..“ you softly nodded and continued to look through her closet.

After some time had passed you still couldn’t decide between three of her alluring dresses. You put the hanger of one of them above your head so that it was hanging clearly in front of your body. „Oh you would look so cute in that one!“ Natalie said as she was re-entering her room. You smiled at your reflection in the big mirror. „Don’t you think it’s a bit too much for a wedding?“ you asked, still a little uncertain. „Absolutely not!“ she denied your worries. „When is the wedding anyways?“ - „in like three month..“ you answered, still glancing in the mirror while posing a little for yourself in assessment. „Then just take this one and the other two… you can decide closer to the day.“ you looked up, in slight disbelief at her offer. „I mean it..“ she asserted „I won’t need them…at least not in the next couple of months“ her words reassuring you.

With the dresses in your arms, you made your way to the hall in order to leave the big house again. You waved your goodbyes to the people still sitting and chatting in the living room.

As you made a turn in the hallway your head collided with a solid chest, your body almost falling down at the sudden loss of balance. Instead, two hands rested on your shoulders, effectively preventing the fall. „sorry i didn’t see-“ you said while looking up to be met with a pair of brown eyes. Your mouth remained slightly open, the rest of the apology stuck in your throat. It’s been almost six years since you last saw him.

You met on a rainy day in late autumn. Your clothes soaking wet as you stepped through the door of the studio. „shitty weather out there huh?“ first words he ever spoke to you. „tell me about it“ you nodded, focused on trying to wring out your soaked hair. „I don’t think that will help“ he chuckled lightly. The first time you heard his laugh, the handsome boy looked at you with a little smirk. „heey..can we get a hairdryer or somethin’ for her?“ he requested the man who was passing through the room, his right hand pointing in your direction. „Yeah I can grab one, you guys here for the shoot?“ the employee asked. Both of you nodded simultaneously „Perfect. Could you get ready in here?“ he instructed you on where to go and promised someone would bring the hairdryer.

It was silent on your way in before he decided to end the quiet by asking: „Sooo..is this your first job?“ - „umm, second“ you answered shyly, a bit intimidated by his hight, especially next to your smaller figure. „Is it that obvious?“ you asked, now a little embarrassed, questioning if you already did something wrong. He chuckled again „not at all“ he reassured, holding the correct door open for you „Jus’ wanted to start a conversation “ you smiled, feeling your cheeks flush at his straightforwardness.

„Yeah, I actually have another job in like two weeks“ you said while on the phone, a little after you two began to take some photos for the launching clothing line. „No…- I guess.. - no I need to find a new place for that time.. - yeah.. - worst case scenario I will just go to a hostel or rent a cheap hotel room…- i mean I’m just sleeping there right? - no yeah...i understand.. - i should really get going now.. - i’ll call you back okay? okay.. bye“ you end the call and return next to the tall stranger you just met, waiting for instructions on what’s next in the shoot.

„uhmm“ he begins shyly, still looking to the cameraman who was adjusting his camera. „not to be nosey..but did i hear that right? You need a place to live or something?“ you looked at his side profile, explaining your current situation. „Alright, so about that..“ he interrupts, glancing between you and photographer. „A friend of mine has a spare room going in his apartment. He’s actually already looking for a new roommate, but that could be postponed. If you want to I could call him up and ask if it would be okay for you to stay there?” - „wait.. deadass?“ you ask, his generous offer shocking you. „well, I mean only if you want to?“ He looked down to observe your reaction. „I- yeah..- i mean your friend won’t murder me right?“ you joke, looking up and into his warm. He’s the first to break the eye contact, glancing at the cameraman again. „He’s one of the nicest guys I know out there…“ he assures with a small smile present. „He is so fucking nice, wouldn’t even kill a fly…“ his words of comfort continue. „Well, then yes, please I am totally willing to take you up on that offer“ is your enthusiastic response, his full attention back on you & a genuine smile decorating the handsome features. „Alright...I will ask him after the shoot is over then..“ - „Thank you so much!… it really means a lot -...umm?“ you begin, hopeful of catching his name „Oh shit yeah, guess I never introduced myself right?“ the man realised. „..My name is Jeff“ he said, reaching out for your hand „Yeah right“ you chuckle, not about to fall for his joke. „No, really..“ the smirk is back on his face. „Oh, so you are an undercover police officer just like me?“ you whisper, hoping he might catch the 21 Jumpstreet reference. „damn..“ he mutters while searching in his back pocket „this fuckin’ movie really ruined my life..“ his hand emerges with a wallet, the ID in it soon handed to you. „Jeffery Wittek..“ you read aloud „the one and only..“ he confirms still smiling softly at you.

After the shoot was over Jeff called up his friend, confirming it would be alright if you stayed with him. The very next day he helped you take all of your stuff over to his friend’s apartment.

In the weeks that followed, the two of you grew inevitably close. Although both busy with work & other responsibilities on some days, you still managed to spend at least a few hours each day together.

Sometimes he just checked in on you, making sure to ask if everything was alright. On other occasions, he visited his friend and stayed the whole day to do nothing but spending time together.

You showed him pictures of places you have been to, in return, he would share his childhood memories. You even told him about your plans for the future, while Jeff opened up about his past. It became your favourite pass time to make jokes about his inability to read properly, to which he would only tease about your short height.

Throughout your stay, the pair of you talked almost every night, about everything, just because it came so easily between you two. Always enjoying every second of valuable time together, not wanting it to end.

One of those nights, you finally built enough courage to admit that you were moving out of the country to live in Italy with your boyfriend. In reply, Jeff confessed his plans to move out to LA cause he met a girl.

Your friendship started innocently. Neither of you would have thought that it could ever build into such an intense and deep connection within the short amount of time. You were strangers only days ago, now openly sharing secrets usually too afraid to tell even the closest of friends. Maybe it was because both of you understood the reflected lack of ulterior motives in honesty. After all, you made sure to just keep things friendly, flirting carefully avoided. Or because you knew both of you were leaving, that alone reason enough not be dishonest with each other. Whatever it was, it started to become a little dangerous with time, you all too aware that the two of you were playing with the fire.

Time continued to pass, you could feel yourself begin to like the familiar boy more and more. Your heart would beat faster any time you saw him, breathing stopping for a second every time his skin touched yours. It continued on: you would get lost in his beautiful eyes whenever he looked at you, asking yourself if he could feel the same way you were. If there could ever be more. You did your best to stop those thoughts immediately, reminding your mind how you were about to leave the country for your boyfriend, whom you loved and didn’t want to betray. Besides, Jeff started to see that girl.

One night, Jeff's friend decided to hold a little get together with some of his friends, your stay in the apartment effectively forcing you to take part. Everyone had their fun, all chatting & playing drinking games on a cheerful night.

After a while, some of you somehow ended up on the rooftop of the building. Most of the people out there just wanting to get a bit of fresh air or have a cigarette, but you went up solely to enjoy the view. You loved going up to the roof just to see the shining lights of the city that doesn’t sleep.

„So your stay here is coming to an end huh?“ Jeff was the one to interrupt your admiring, walking up to you, while you looked out to the lights. You nodded „yeah“ the word spat out sadly before taking another sip of your drink. „I never thought three weeks could be over with so quickly..“ his words carried a sad undertone. „Me neither..“ you acknowledged, „i think i did and saw more in those three weeks with you than ever before“ he chuckled at the true words. „yeah.. we experienced quite a lot of New York together“ he made sure to exaggerate with his accent, sight remaining locked on you.

When you finally looked up at him, you couldn’t help but tease „So.. Is the tough Wittek gonna miss me?“ you asked jokingly while running your hand through his wind tousled hair. „Of course i will.“ he admitted. „Haven’t had so much fun in a long time..“. A smile sneaked its way across your face „oh your gonna have fun again when you are reunited with your special lady.“ you rebutted, oblivious to how his smile faded a little. Of course he would have fun again he thought. But the girl he was seeing right now wasn’t you. She was funny, but her humour couldn’t compare to yours. She was beautiful but she didn’t have those cute little dimples, which only showed when you laughed aloud. She had a promising career in front of her, but she just wasn’t you. „I guess…“ he eventually replied, still deep in thought about the girl who couldn’t compare.

You took another sip of your drink and gazed away into the distance before finally glancing at the man who had your heart. „I think you- ..you have a little eyelash on your cheek“ Jeff said, abandoning his drink in favour of stepping a little closer and moving his hands up to your face.

One of them rested gently on your cheek, to give your head some balance as he titled it upwards, the other grazing right under your eye to get the fallen lash. His fingers lightly brushed over your skin, grasp so gentle on your face as if it was something precious. As if it could break if he put too much pressure on your little cheek. It was the very first time you really let yourself look him in the eyes tonight. Not that you haven’t looked into the brown pools before, but this time, in the light of the city, just inches away from your face, you really saw the artistic strokes of the different shades of brown melting together. You saw how the dark parts covered up the few light spots, saw his kindness and how much he truly cared about you, all by simply looking into his beautiful brown eyes.

His hand stayed on your cheek, despite the lash being long gone. You breathed out audibly, lost in the present moment. The scent of his cologne travelling up and into your nose in the proximity you two shared right now. „we should-..probably get back to the party…“ he whispers slowly, involuntarily glancing at your lips while his palm moved from its hold on your cheek to the back of your neck. „mhmm“ you could only hum lightly in response, feeling your heart starting to beat faster, slowly rising to your tippy toes. Your face is slowly inching closer to his & then you can feel his breath on your lips, eyes starting to close on their own accord, the two of you so close and right before your lips could touch - „Paarty time!“ one of Jeff's friend accidentally interrupts, tipsy shouting entering the rooftop. The two of you pull back immediately, not wanting him or anyone else to witness the kiss you almost shared. The friend walks obliviously towards Jeff. „man we thought you’ve left already!“ his word stuttered drunkenly. „No, I wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye“ he chuckles away as if the moment you two just had never happened.

You had three more days in New York after that slip up before you finally left for Europe. Neither Jeff nor you mentioned the moment you two had together. After that night, and after you both finally sobered up, you convinced yourself that Jeff was too drunk to even remember what could have happened. His own thoughts were similar. Both of you far too scared to say something and ruin the time left. You were too embarrassed because Jeff had already started to date that girl he thought he liked, not to forget you were in a relationship with a boy you thought you were in love with . Both too cowardly to admit that there is indeed a spark there.

As your last day has come Jeff and his friend escorted you to the airport. „Man it will be so weird not having you around anymore y/n“ Jeffs friend said while driving through New York traffic. You looked out of the window in the backseat of the car. „I’m really gonna miss this..“ you stated, now slyly looking at Jeff, sitting in the passenger seat without returning your longing glances. In reality, what you would really miss..is him. You would miss his high pitched laugh, dark sense of humour and dry jokes, his warm and caring hugs and especially, his presence in your life. Not knowing if you would ever see him again or if you will ever come back to America again.

Jeff and his friend lead you to your gate, saying their goodbyes, promising to visit you in Italy someday, assuring that you’ll always be welcome if you decide to return. You hugged your new friend, who allowed you to stay in his apartment so graciously before looking up at Jeff. „Come here..“ he says, opening his arms for your embrace. Your arms wrapped around his waist, his head resting atop of yours. You breathed in heavily, trying to hold back the inevitable tears. He stroked your back in comfort „I’m really gonna miss you y/n/n..“ he conceded in a whisper. „me too..“ you admitted as well. „Promise me we will see each other again?“ Jeff asked, now looking down at you, while your own gaze travelled up to his eyes. You smiled sadly „I promise..“ you nodded with watery eyes. He hugged you again, saying your last goodbyes before you left to get your flight.

Jeff’s hair was slightly wet from the rain outside, a similar expression of shock on his face.„wow..uh, what?“ you let out, first to break the silence between you. „wow…“ he repeated dumbfounded. His hands were still resting holding onto your upper arms before he eventually raised them to his head in an act of disbelief. He shook his head, not sure if this was really happening right now, if it was really you in front of him. „I-„ you started again, but before you could keep talking he quickly forced you into a tight embrace.

His hands went back to your shoulders, still unsure if it was really you „This is insane..“ He muttered eventually, „it is..“ you confirmed. „How long has it been?“ Jeff was quick to ask while you still struggled to grasp the situation. „Almost 6 years..“ you uttered lightly.

„How’s Vince?“ he couldn’t help but ask with interest. „Oh...we uh, we broke up a while ago..“ you admitted, remembering your days in Italy. „oh I’m so sorry.“ the reply was sympathetic. „Yeah..how is Cierra?“ you asked in return, curious about the girl he started to see when you guys just met. Jeff glanced over into the living room, suddenly aware of all who were witnessing your reunion. „we also broke up a while ago..“. The information delivered with no emotions. You nodded lightly, unsure on how exactly to react or respond.

You checked your phone to look at what time it was, „I should probably go now..“ you mentioned, breaking the short moment of silence between you two. „Yeah..“ Jeff nodded, freeing your way to the exit. As made your very first step towards the door he stopped you by saying „Listen, before you go, can i get your num-“ before he could even end his sentence you interrupted „-just ask Natalie for it“ you informed him, „‚cause if you won’t, i’ll promise you that i will..“ you stepped closer to the door while teasing. „I’m not gonna lose touch with you again Wittek..“ you reveal and he chuckles.

Just when you were reaching for the front door again Jeff stopped you „y/n..“ you turn to look back at him, seeing that his stretched out hand held an umbrella „Here, take this..“ he demands softly „S’shitty weather out there..“ he adds with a little knowing smirk.

#the vlog squad #the vlog squad imagine #jeff wittek #jeff wittek imagine #jeff wittek x y/n #jeff wittek x you #jeff wittek x reader #my post

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miracvlovs · 4 years

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✗✗✗ you see [ kaleb yıldırım ] around lately? yeah i heard that the [ cis male ] is up to no good. [ he / him ] has been here for [ five years ] now but they’re still pretty [ abrasive ] which is fine because they’re also [ debonair ] so it balances out. the [ twenty-eight ] year old [ hitman for hire ] actually looks like a lot like [ alperen duymaz ], don’t you think? it’s best to watch out, though, because it’s been said that they’re really into [ strong cigarettes & even stronger whiskey ].

hey, hello, hi, bonjour! s’up buttercups? ‘tis i, your friendly neighbourhood loser chrissie ( a.k.a an irish doofus who is utter plot trash and the actual WORST at keeping track with discord messages, oops ) and i’m super duper excited to be here among you fab human beings! anywho, this is my first kiddo kaleb and he is … how do you say … morally grey. basically his morals are very questionable in every aspect. but! on the plus side, he’s very talented and good at his job even if he is ruthless and callous, oop. he is … the worst and also lowkey messed up inside tbh so pls excuse his blunt and sarcastic nature. plot-wise i’m open to literally anything and everything so come at me with any ideas ya got! i’m always diggity down to spit ball ideas and form some dope connections so pls feel free to invade my ims or hmu on le cord ( chrissie.#9606 ) and we can brainstorm until our heart’s content! if ya wanna, go ahead and light that lil grey heart up red and i’ll shimmy my butt your way for all of the good stuff. anywho, let’s get down to the nitty-gritty, shall we?

fundamentals.

KALEB EMER YILDIRIM — twenty-eight, hitman for hire, + one snarky son of a gun / troubled dude with daddy issues / all issues tbh !

aesthetics ➤ dried blood caked into the grooves of cut knuckles, the lingering scent of smoke and gasoline, silver slivers of past scarring, five o’clock shadow peppering a blunt jawline, discolourations of blue and purple decorating battered hands, a subtle smirk etched upon a devious countenance, calloused fingertips riddled with small paper cuts, dark circles under almost-black eyes, the noise of screeching tires in the middle of the night, a tall stature adorned in all-black attire, ghosts of bruises staining calloused skin green, a scuffed zippo lighter in a pack of marlboros containing only one cigarette, white shirts with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, a sly grin under stormy dark eyes, a sniper on the roof of a deserted building, the roar of a car engine, & clenched, white-knuckled fists.

nicknames. kal.

date of birth. november third.

gender. cis male.

pronouns. he + him.

birthplace. manhattan, nyc.

orientation. bisexual + aromantic.

education. bachelor of music degree obtained from manhattan school of music.

spoken languages. can speak fluent english, turkish, spanish, & french.

negative traits. haughty, abrasive, enigmatic, cynical, temperamental, calculating, hedonistic, distant, sarcastic, & volatile.

positive traits. adept, diligent, charming, resilient, candid, adept, charming, audacious, determined, & resourceful.

strengths. efficient, energetic, self-confident, strong-willed, strategic thinker, charismatic, & inspiring.

weaknesses. stubborn, dominant, intolerant, impatient, arrogant, poor handling of emotions, cold, & ruthless.

talents. piano, retaining information, memory recall, lock-picking, carjacking, hand-to-hand combat, automobile knowledge, tracking people down, & excellent problem-solving abilities.

physiology. dark brown eyes. dark brown hair. six feet, one inch tall. of a lean, broad stature with a straight posture and evident height. has a few silvery scars littered across his skin. has a few tattoos in a few less visible places. is ambidextrous.

psychology. scorpio zodiac. water element. slytherin house. entj-a. chaotic neutral. type eight enneagram. choleric temperament. interpersonal intelligence type. addicted to alcohol, tobacco, prescription drugs, cocaine, and cannabis. suffers from addiction and insomnia. his vices are lust, wrath and pride. his virtues are ... honestly, probably just diligence tbh.

background.

possible triggers : infidelity, divorce, alcoholism, drug abuse, cancer, death, car crash, funeral, blood, murder, suicide mention, gun mention, & various references to death and murder.

a synopsis. ah, here he is—my tol, troubled, grouchy son : ' ) don't u just adore ur resident trashy, snarky, but precious and sad fuckboi muse? bc i know I DO! anyways, before i digress, i'll cut to the chase. so, waaay before he blessed the universe with his presence, his mother ( who was originally from turkey ) moved to the states where she met one alexander hale. you can probably guess the rest: the pair married, they had children, everything seemed to be going swimmingly, yada yada. here’s a lil background: the hale family—a line of manhattan-born businessmen / lawyers / diplomats etc. they're dripping in wealth, not always as squeaky clean as they portray themselves as to be. kaleb’s dad was a douche, expected both of his sons to follow in his shadow and become lawyers, ran around behind his wife's back: the whole shoot and shebang of a classic a-hole. he always kind of ignored kaleb in favour of his eldest son joshua so kaleb kinda became hard-hearted and resentful due to the lack of his father's attention. skip a few years and he spied his dad cheating on his mother with his secretary though he refused to tell another soul for fear of any potential backlash. soon enough, his mother found this out for herself, their argument ruined his thirteenth birthday party then they divorced soon after. his mother fell off the wagon, became terminally ill—all while his father was remarrying and expecting a daughter with his secretary. it was a hella rough two years for kaleb. it got even worse. eventually, his mother passed away and his step-mother divorced his father to breeze off into the sunset with her new lover; leaving her daughter with her piss-poor excuse of a dad. at this point, kaleb was lonely and angry but adopted the role of his step-sister's protector, shielding her from their father's increasing substance abuse induced violence. just before his seventeenth birthday, his father died in a car crash. of course, he didn't entirely mourn the loss. almost immediately, he and his younger sister moved in with their elder brother who helped kaleb get into university. with dear ole dad out of the picture, he could finally pursue his interest and flair for music. after he graduated, he moved to santa ysabel with his brother and brother's family. in the beginning, things were going fine. yeah, sure, he was struggling for work and felt bad that his brother had to keep him afloat. normal stuff. then, one day, things quickly turned sour in his world. [ TRIGGER FOR GORE, BLOOD, SUICIDE MENTION, GUN MENTION, MURDER, DEATH ] he’d came home to find the locks on the doors busted, advancing into the house carefully only to find his brother’s lifeless corpse crumbled on the kitchen tiles: his throat and wrists slashed, posed as a suicide. of course, kaleb knew better. he knew his brother; knew he would never leave him or his family. upon further inspection of the house, he’d discovered the body of his wife upstairs: a bullet hole between her eyes. [ TRIGGER OVER ] the whole ordeal was enough to turn his stomach but once the sickness had subsided, all kaleb felt was a strong thirst for blood. sure, it was pretty damn stupid to try and seek revenge or whatnot ... but kaleb had always been one to let his heart guide his brain. anyways, time skip now to the moment he’d uncovered his brother’s entanglement with some dodgy loan shark, drug dealing criminals who were responsible for his murder. in the end, he’d hunted them down and eradicated them one by one, over a span of weeks. at first, he hated himself and what his desire for vengeance had turned him into but he kept going until he’d got them all: until he’d grown numb. truthfully, how he wound up taking lives for a living is beyond him. he woke up one day, found himself hired by some big-wig businessman who wanted rid of his business partner and et voilà, he was tangled up in the dark side of existence. i mean, was he blackmailed into doing his first paid hit? yes. but who can blame him? especially when they claimed to have intel regarding the sudden demise of a prominent figure in the criminal underbelly of the city, a.k.a his brother’s killer. it was a risk kaleb simply couldn’t take. he prefers to keep himself anonymous, hidden behind shadows, unsuspecting. death has become a job. nothing more. nothing less. it’s simply the algorithm of his existence: receive a dossier, take care of the target, get paid a hefty lump sum. and all just for enacting a stranger’s revenge in the blood of another. he moves like a deadly phantom, his footsteps light as a feather, whipping through the night like a bullet through a target’s skull. sartre claims that hell is other people. and if you were to stare into kaleb’s eyes—eyes eerily similar to having been cut from coal—you might just see hell and everyone in it staring right back at you. as nietzsche wrote: “ he who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby become a monster. and if thou gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will also gaze into thee. ”

random extras.

he has a lot of small scars over his body, most of which he can’t account for or has forgotten about.

owns and drives a black 1969 boss 429 mustang which he loves arguably more than he loves himself.

speaking of, he actually is full of self-hatred so don’t let the haughtiness fool you.

trusts nobody but himself and is loyal to nobody but himself.

has a lot of anger issues so often ends up taking part in underground fights.

he rates around a solid three on the kinsey scale.

is a distant person; closed-off emotionally and prefers to keep himself to himself.

when it comes to whether or not he is morally decent or an extremely bad person, he is somewhere in the middle of that spectrum.

he isn’t heartless but he isn’t exactly compassionate either.

kind of shady but knows how to pass himself as charming.

has been thru sum shit n seen sum shit so he’s v messed up inside.

though he does have a soft spot for animals and children.

his marksmanship is impeccable.

he’s naturally gifted with firearms and his shot is always on point.

dark eyes and bruised knuckles are his ultimate aesthetic tbh.

actually really appreciates classical music, though he’ll never tell. blame it on his piano lessons from childhood.

speaking of piano, he’s low key gifted at playing although he rarely does these days.

has a very short fuse and can lose his temper quite easily.

he has a good heart and good intentions when it comes to those he actually cares about although he’ll never let this show.

favourite coping mechanism? isolation.

a bit of a lone wolf. he keeps people at arm’s length but acts in a way where people are under the illusion he’s their friend.

basically the tall, dark and handsome trope: ( most of the tall, dark and handsome men display aloof, cold and distant personality but they do have a gentle and caring side. )

is a little snarky and grumpy but if you manage to break this exterior, you’ll find he’s quite witty and easy going.

he got into fighting at a young age. it was the only way to try and learn how to defend himself against his father.

sleep?? he doesn’t know her.

tends to repress his emotions until he explodes.

healthy coping mechanisms?? he doesn’t know them either.

is prone to pushing the self destruct button.

you can find a pinterest board for him by clicking anywhere here.

#hey hi hello happy to be here !!!#this is my son kal n he's ... A LOT.#show this some luv n i'll come atcha for plots !!!#indulgence.intro

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verreprincesse · 4 years

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My Bio for the Descendant AU, eventually I’ll have it up on my blog but for now it’s gonna be on this post. I wrote soooo much and ugggggh if anything sounds off pls let me know....

cenerentola – città di vetro city of glass cinderellasburg city – farfalla paradisoville butterfly paradise villas rocky point court – corte rocciosa

charming castle – charmant château

cinderellasburg – verrelac

Charming – Leo ( lion ) Thibault

Charming Father – Andre ( manly; brave ) Thibault ( courageous people )

Charming Mother – Noemi ( beautiful, gentle ), Rainelda ( independent, self-reliant, and determined

Cinderella Father — Éduoard

Cinderella Mother — Astrid

Long before Auradon brought the kingdoms together, Verrelac was two kingdoms. One ruled by Prince Charming’s father’s family at the Charmant Château and the other ruled by his mother’s family at Corte Rocciosa. Not due to war did the two stay separate but due to a magical forest that cut them off. Stories of wild beasts and monsters kept them from travelling too deep into the forest, but his mother’s people were dying. Their soil no longer produced healthy food for them to eat and the animals they hunted had learned to stay away from the edge of the forest. In an effort to save her people CM and a small retinue of people braved the forest and pushed to CF home. She pleaded on her people’s behalf, promised a good alliance between her court and his. Her people were known for their glassmaking, down to how they could mimic rare stone without the need to mine for them or pay such high prices, in return for food.

They agreed and the two kingdoms paved a safe road from each place for travel, which also was used by the prince and princess just as often for they found each other in good company. He admired her passion for her people and her kind heart, and she loved his fair ideas and quick wit. He also loved she couldn’t dance. Every time she would end up trampling on his feet. She could make a graceful sculpture out of blazing glass but as her to be graceful on the dance floor and it was pure disaster. Over time the two fell deeper in love and convinced their parents it would be beneficial to their kingdoms if they were to marry and become one kingdom. They agreed and both kingdoms celebrated for a week. A tradition they continued to even this day. A holiday called Festival of Miracles celebrated every year with feasts and festivals. A time to remember the good that came of their union. A year later, Noemi gave birth during the festival, as did another woman.

Astrid, the wife of a very wealthy merchant had gone into labor early, two months early, with her daughter. It was a fight for both mother and child. Three days it took to bring Eleanor into the world, and she was as perfect as could be. Their little miracle. In more than one way too. Eleanor was the eldest of many sisters and was meant to marry rich but one of the times she had gone off by herself, often to just have a clear mind, she had ended up at Glass Lake. A strange phenomenon where the lake was both a solid and a liquid. If met with force, the lake defended itself by becoming solid and protecting the life within it. It was said fairies were born by the lake with its magical properties. Another story is that a queen once was able to trick the lake into giving up a piece of itself to be made into a large mirror.

No matter the stories, Astrid enjoyed the quiet solitude she gained from visiting. It was during one of those times she met Éduoard when he and his father took the newly paved road to take their wares. His father had people who could do the tedious work, but he wanted to teach Éduoard an honest living and to do that, he took his son with him. Astrid’s horse had become spooked and dashed out, nearly toppled Éduoard and his father’s cart over. No mater what she did, her horse wouldn’t rein in and her only choice was to jump. When she did, she and her horse were already by the lake and Astrid braced for the lake to harden, for the pain that would come but instead she plunged into its depths.

Éduoard and his father rushed after her, his father for the horse and Éduoard for Astrid. He was able to pull her out, despite his fear of water, and get them both safely to the bank. From then on, the two would see each other often at the lake. She had fallen for him, though she was often told it was only because he saved her. She didn’t care. The two married shortly after though their happiness didn’t last for very long.

After Eleanor was born, Astrid was very weak and grew sick with childbed fever. A week later she was gone and Éduoard was left to raise their little girl. He and his father grew their business until they were a large name in the kingdom in trade, even becoming one of the richest tradesmen. Eleanor, often called Ella, wanted for nothing. She was raised kind, and gentle, her father always keeping her mother’s memory alive. When she turned six, he remarried, and she gained a mother and two sisters. She had always wanted a sibling to get into mischief with but her new sisters were snobbish and often teased her and left her out of their merriment.

Even as she tried to make the best of it, more death struck her home when her father fell gravely ill and passed when Ella was only nine. It was then her stepmother showed her true colors. A black widow is what Ella often heard others say. Some even whispered that her stepsisters Anastasia and Drizella were fathered by two different men Lady Tremaine had killed for money. It could be true with how different the two looked. Anastasia was kinder to Ella, often bringing Ella extra blankets in the winter or giving her her old gowns. It was Drizella and her stepmother who were cruel, treating Ella like a slave and taking away her comfortable life.

The one thing she looked forward to, however, every year was the Week of Miracles. Even her stepmother couldn’t forbid her from attending, despite her trying every time, and when she was nineteen she had made herself a gown, thanks to Anastasia giving her some old fabric, and would have attended had her stepmother not ordered her daughters to ruin the gown.

Bereft, Ella was sure she’d never get to attend and ran to the forest to the lake where her parents first met. She felt close to her parents there every time she visited. She cried for her losses and for her triumphs and to just tell her parents of her life. She was kind to the wildlife there and if something magical happened, she never questioned it, nor took it for granted. It was there her fairy godmother appeared, helped her to attend the festivities every day of that week, no matter how many times her stepfamily would sabotage it. Everyday in a gown more beautiful than the first.

It was at the festival she fell in love. She didn’t believe she could be given more but when she met Henri her world flipped. He was handsome but she learned he was more than just a face. He cared for his people, he worried about their struggles and he wanted to make things better like his parents had. Every day she met with him and fell deeper in love with him but knew her stepmother would never allow her to rise above her daughters and so she always made sure to leave without him seeing so she’d not be followed home. On the last day, however, he laid tar on the steps of the palace where her shoe caught. Either she stayed where she was and be found out or she would have to run barefoot home. The fear of her stepmother finding out had her running instead. She never expected that he would search her out though.

He spent days taking the slipper to all the eligible maidens and no matter what happened either the slipper was too small or too big, none fit the slipper. When he arrived to Ella’s house she was in the garden in the back finding food for dinner while her sisters tried on the slipper. To no avail, they couldn’t fit. Just as they were leaving, Henri saw Ella come out of the backyard and insisted she try the slipper even though her stepmother stood in the doorway, threatening her life if she so tried. Promising her safety, he encouraged her and easily, the slipper fit as if it had been made only for her. True to his word he kept her safe from her stepmother and they were wed, on a condition he helped her stepsisters find good marriages. She still wanted them to live well.

For some years they lived well, and she was able to form somewhat of a relationship with Drizella, her relationship with Anastasia blossomed especially after she fell for a baker. It was short-lived however, as many things in her life seemed to be as when Belle and Adam formed Auradon and sent the villains away, he sent her sisters and stepmother as well despite how many times Ella tried to say her sisters had changed. They were villains though; they had tormented her, and it meant they could no longer share in Auradon’s wealth. Drizella was pregnant when she was sent away, meaning Ella would never get to meet her niece or nephew when they were born.

Ella often stayed away from Auradon if she can as she was quite upset with Belle and Adam for what they did, not seeing that her sisters had changed, until her own son was born. She knew it meant she would have to send him to Auradon Prep when he came of age and she would have to attend the many invitations. Otherwise she stayed in her kingdom and helps her husband rule fairly and justly.

#♕▐┆❝ v: descendants au tag

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softspiderling · 5 years

Text

swanky fortune - part eight | t.h.

Summary: of scheming roommates, a good dinner, and a night out with Tom

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Song I listened to while writing: Circles by Post Malone

Author’s Note: I’M SORRY PLS DON’T HATE ME. But the good news is, I’ve already started writing the next part, so.... Per usual, comments and feedback is appreciated and highly demanded. I missed these two dumbasses. ALSO I HAVE 1K followers now??? C R A Z Y!! Thanks to everyone I’m so grateful for you!!! Also I know I did a celebration recently, but if anyone wants another one, lmk!

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, swearing

Word Count: a whooping 4,8k

Masterlist

It seemed like life just had one surprise after another in store for you.

Not even your wildest dreams could compete with the scenario that was taking place in front of you. Tom Holland standing in the middle of your kitchen and apparently cooking dinner for you.

“How did you get in my apartment?” You blurted out, before wincing.

“Sorry. I swear I’m really happy to see you.”

Tom gave you an exasperated look before he put down the spatula, leaning against the counter. He looked good. It was obvious to you that the time home was definitely something he had needed. The bags underneath his eyes weren’t completely gone yet, but they definitely were on their way of disappearing. His cheeks were pink, though you couldn’t tell if it was from the heat from the stove or if he was embarrassed.

“You really need to work on your people skills, Y/N,” he teased and you scoffed lightheartedly, stepping towards him to hug him tightly, inhaling his scent.

Has he always smelt this nice? Or was your judgement clouded by the endorphins your brain was pouring out at the mere sight of him? You weren’t sure.

“‘s good to see you too, love. Told ya I would make it up to you,” he mumbled in your hair, before pulling away, smiling down at you. Overcome with emotion, you turned away and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, while he puttered around the stove.

You watched him move around your kitchen and he looked oddly like he belonged here.

“But seriously, how did you get in my apartment?” You asked, tilting your head as you stood next to him. “I’m seriously questioning my safety right now.”

He laughed and shook his head, stirring the sauce before putting the lid back on the pot. “Your roommate let me in and gave me a key when she left.”

Your eyes widened. “Luisa gave you a key to our apartment?”

“Guess I’m just that trustworthy,” he shrugged with a grin and you rolled your eyes at him. You knew exactly why Luisa let him in and gave him a key on top of that. You also knew that she was probably not going to be back in the apartment until Tom had left. Damn that girl.

“I really need to teach her about stranger danger.”

“Hey!” Tom protested. “If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t have been able to cook dinner for you.”

Your playful smile turned into a fond one. God, he was trying really hard to win you over. Ducking your head to hide your face, you tucked your hair behind your ear.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know that right?”

“I know, but I wanted to,” he said lightly.

“How are you here anyway?” You asked, deflecting. “I thought you weren’t planning on doing anymore traveling until you have to get back to work.”

“I meant traveling for work. I also said I was looking forward to relax during my time off. And I’m doing that, here with you.” Tom pointed out.

“Did you not want to spend more time with your family?”

“I spent plenty of time with them,” he assured you. “Plus I was constantly talking about you anyway and they got tired of that, so I took the next plane here, I landed this morning. It’s not really a big deal, love.”

It was though. When was the last time someone had put so much work and effort in wanting to spend time with you? Not only did he take a flight to you, apparently he also went grocery shopping and cooked dinner for you.

“It’s a big deal to me Tom,” You said softly, leaning up to press a soft kiss on his cheek. He turned away and you bit back a grin when his face turned pink.

Tom cleared his throat and turned the stove off, drumming with his fingers against the counter.

“So, food?”

After maneuvering the food onto plates that Tom deemed good enough for his pasta, you and him sat across from each other at the dining table.

As you were about to take the first bite, you noticed that he was staring at you more intently than usual.

“You didn’t poison this, did you?” You asked with squinted eyes, carefully inspecting the noodles on your fork and he rolled his eyes, taking a spoonful of pasta, chewing obnoxiously.

“How are you being so melodramatic? I thought I was the actor out of the two of us.”

You grinned at him before finally putting the fork in your mouth, your eyes widening. “Oh my god.”

“It’s good, huh?”

“Good?” you asked, covering your full mouth with your hand. “This is amazing! Where’d you get this recipe?”

“It’s my mum’s. She used to cook this every year for my birthday lunch,” he told you and you smirked, swallowing your food.

“And you looked over her shoulder because you knew you’re going to have to cook it yourself some day?”

He shook his head, twirling the noodles on his fork. You could see the smugness basically oozing off of him and you rolled your eyes, already knowing that some sort of cocky comment was about to leave his mouth.

“I didn’t have to look over her shoulder, because I’m just that good of a cook,” Tom said and you snorted in your plate, barely disguising it as a cough. He narrowed his eyes at you, his fork pointing at you.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” you said innocently, smiling sweetly at him which he reciprocated with a flick on your arm. Yelping, you stuck your tongue at him and wagged your fork at him warningly before you returned your attention to your food that was getting colder the longer you were fooling around with Tom.

After you’ve both finished eating which took longer than usual because you kept picking on each other like little kids, you were standing side by side in the kitchen, him doing the dishes after having insisted on doing them.

“You’re a guest Tom, stop being unreasonable. I’m not going to let you do the dishes!”

“A self-invited guest.”

“A guest nonetheless!”

“Love, I literally made the mess, would you please let me clean it up?”

“You already cooked for me, can’t I pay you back by doing the dishes?”

“No. You can pay me back another way.”

“What way?”

“… Just move over so I can do the dishes, Y/N.”

You snapped the lid on the Tupperware filled with leftover food, placing them in the fridge for Luisa in case she ever came home again. Tom was drying his hands off on a kitchen towel when you turned back to him, raising an eyebrow at him. He returned your look with a raised brow, though his was way more untamed than you hoped yours was.

“So, what are we going to do now?”

“What do you mean ‘What are going to do now’?,” he asked with a snort, crossing his arms over his chest. “I cooked. It’s your job to take care of the entertainment.”

“You’re kidding, right? You literally invited yourself to my place without letting me know beforehand, and now you’re expecting me to entertain you?” you gave him a look and trudge into the living room, Tom hot on your tails with a grin on his face. You threw yourself unceremoniously on the couch and crossed your legs, leaning your chin in your hand.

“I have a few assignments and readings to do over the weekend,” you started and he frowned at you as he joined you on the couch, pursing his lips.

“Are you telling me you won’t have any time for me while I’m here?”

Suddenly he straightened his back and a look of uncertainty passed his face. He fiddled with his hands and you didn’t know what triggered it, but the atmosphere had suddenly shifted.

“Was this a mistake?” Tom wanted to know and red splotches started appearing on his neck. “I should’ve called beforehand, you must be really busy-“

“Tom,” you interrupted him with a small smile, taking his hand to calm him down, only continuing to speak when he looked at you. It was that moment when you realized that he was embarrassed by his actions and admittedly it was a bit straightforward and crazy, but it was still pretty sweet of him. You were also very glad that he took the first step, because if he hadn’t, you’d probably wouldn’t have seen each other in the near future.

“It’s just a few assignments, I’m not super busy,” you told him. “You should get some rest and lay down while I do, you must be really tired after today.”

His eyes went wide and he moved his hands to grasp you by your shoulders. “Wait a minute, you want to do your assignments now?”

“Yes.”

“It’s Friday.”

“I know.”

“Friday evening, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “I know, Tom. And?”

“Oh my god, you’re a nerd,” he laughed out, his head dropping as his shoulders shook with the vibrations. Puzzled and offended by his words, you furrowed your brows and shoved his hands off of your own shoulders as he wouldn’t stop laughing.

“You’re a nerd,” you shot back and he wiped his eyes, giving you a thumbs up.

“Solid comeback, love, that hit me real hard.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and frowned at him. “I am not a nerd.”

“You’re willingly doing readings and assignments on Friday evenings, I am pretty sure that’s the definition of nerd,” Tom pointed out, his laughter having subsided but the grin on his face was still wide.

God, he’s such a nuisance.

“I am not doing them willingly, but if I’ll do it now, it’s done and I don’t have to worry about it anymore on Sunday night. It’s called being responsible,” you explained to him, slightly annoyed as he watched you with a twinkle in his eyes.

“That’s exactly what a nerd would say.”

Bristling, you shoved him playfully by the shoulders and got up to grab your laptop and your backpack to pull out your folder that held all your papers. Spreading your worksheets on the coffee table with Tom peering over your shoulders, you started piling the documents on different stacks.

“What do the different colors mean?” He wanted to know as he leaned over your left shoulder, his breath hot on your earlobe. You turned your head slightly and he was curiously eyeing your notes.

It was funny how interested he was in your assignments, considering how routinely they were for you.

“Pink means I need to ask for clarifications, green means it’s relevant for my exam and yellow means what I think is important.”

Tom let out a oooohhhh and tilted his head slightly, leaning forward to get a better look at the different worksheets.

“You don’t mind me doing my assignments now, do you?” You asked, glancing at him. “It’s not going to take long, I promise.”

“It’s fine, I can entertain myself, you do what you gotta do,” he told you and shot you a wink. Rolling your eyes at him, you opened your laptop to pull up the instructions from your professor and do your readings.

It was actually kind of nice working with Tom around. He was mostly quiet, there was the occasional snort while he laughed quietly about something on his phone, though it didn’t really bother you. You were working on an article about the gender pay gap when you noticed him staring at you.

You hadn’t really noticed him moving around that much, that was why you were so surprised to see him sitting opposite of you, leaning his elbows on the coffee table. One corner of his mouth was curled up, and you knew based on the smirk on his face that he was up to no good. Removing the highlighter cap from between your lips, you turned your full attention on him.

“What?”

The smirk on his face widened and you were slowly getting irritated, narrowing your eyebrows at him when he reached out to gently poke you on the forehead.

“You have a crease right here when you’re trying to concentrate,” he told you and you swatted his hands away, smoothing the crease in your forehead down.

“It’s not there because I’m trying to concentrate, it’s there because I’m annoyed because you’re staring at me.”

“I’ve been watching you for the last five minutes and you haven’t even noticed because you’re so engrossed in your article, so that’s a lie.”

“You know that’s really creepy right?” you asked with a sigh, starting to collect your notes and putting them away.

He shrugged lightly and fixed a stack of papers, handing them to you. “Couldn’t help myself, you looked really cute. And I’ve always had a thing for smart women.”

The blood rushed to your face and you turned away to stuff your folder back into your backpack, avoiding his gaze.

“Shut up,” you mumbled and he laughed, his finger tips dancing along your wrists. Goosebumps started spreading across your arms and your head snapped up to look at him, just to see that he was already watching you.

“How about you make me?” he suggested lightly, a brow ticking up. You flushed even brighter and got up, shoving your hand in his face.

“Get it together, Holland,” you huffed and he laughed at you, craning his head to follow your movements.

It was getting harder and harder to resist him, but you had promised yourself not to let yourself fall this quickly, you were trying to learn from your mistakes. But what if your ex-boyfriend had been the mistake last time, and not your feelings?

What if was a mistake to keep Tom at an arms distance (or at least that was what you were trying to do)? What if he was the right one and by distancing yourself, you were only pushing him away? The sight of his smile made you feel warm and at the same time, your head is telling you to cool it.

“I need a drink,” you muttered and offered Tom a hand to pull him up. He clasped his hand around yours and got up to his feet, nodding at your request.

“I could do drinks,” he said. “But I do need to change, though.”

Stretching your arms, you nodded. “Yeah me too. Uh, did you bring any clothes?”

Tom gave you a look. “No, I came here with the clothes on my body only.”

You grinned and grabbed your backpack, pointing to the bathroom in the hallway. “You can use the bathroom to change if you want to, I’ll just need a couple of minutes and then I’ll be right out.”

“Aye aye captain!” Tom saluted to you and you only shook your head with a snort while you headed to your room. Stuffing your backpack in the corner, you opened your clothes and pursed your lips while browsing through your racks, eventually settling on a red floral blouse, not wanting to change out of your jeans, too.

After having changed into the blouse, you sat in front of your mirror and refreshed your make up, while mentally going through all the bars that were nearby. Tom hadn’t specifically told you, but you were guessing that he wanted to keep a low profile and not draw too much attention, so you scratched off any bars, that were always packed. You had a few casual bars in mind and hoped one of them would work out, but it was Friday night and you’d never know what expected you.

You pouted your lips into the mirror before grabbing your purse on the way out of the living room, where Tom was shrugging his leather jacket on, a hat sitting on top of his head, his outfit looking rather dark.

“Hey,” he said, wearing a sheepish expression when you stepped closer to him. “Do you mind if we-“

Nodding quickly, you gave him a smile. “Yeah, we can do low-key, don’t worry.”

“Thanks,” he sighed out, clearly relieved. “I just really need a break right now.”

You waved it off, understanding where he was coming from. “It’s fine, I totally get it. Are you ready to leave?”

“Yes, I’m ready.” He jogged towards the front door and opened it, waving his hand dramatically with a bow. “After you my lady.”

“You’re such a gentleman,” you said teasingly and walked through the door, watching as Tom locked the front door with a pointed look in your direction.

With an eyeroll, you crossed your arms over your chest, letting yourself lean against the wall. “You’re aware that I’m not letting you keep that key, right?”

“Aw why not?”

He stuffed the key into the pocket of his jeans and looked up at you with a pout. You pushed yourself off the wall, an amused grin on your face.

“Because that’s literally the dumbest thing someone could do. I mean, you could rob me, or something,” you trailed off as the two of you walked out of the building.

Tom gave you an indignant look and you chuckled, shrugging unapologetically. “Anything is possible these days, Tom. I’m just trying to protect myself.”

Pushing the door open, you exited the building, the sun’s last beams shone through the trees, painting the sky in a soft orange. You inhaled deeply and quickly fell in step with Tom as you walked on the sidewalk.

“There’s a nice bar a few blocks from here, we can go there by foot if you don’t mind,” you suggested, pointing in the direction you were going.

“Walking is fine. I’ve been sitting on my ass enough today.”

You two settled into a comfortable silence, your arms swinging between you as you walked, your hands occasionally brushing. His pinkie brushed against the side of your palm and you knew that he was carefully testing out the waters. Oddly enough, you were glad that he did, letting his fingers grasping yours slowly, and you glanced at him with pink cheeks.

Tom smiled at you when a group of raucous college students walked towards you.

The moment he had so carefully worked for immediately broke between you and you quickly pulled your hand back, locking your hands nervously as you passed the group, with Tom ducking his head while you balled your hands.

Talk about mood killer.

“This is it,” you told him, gesturing towards the building on the other side of the street.

You crossed the road, passed the people who were having a smoke by the curb and pulled the door open. As you stepped into the bar and looked around you noticed that it was slightly busier than you expected it to be but not as packed as normal bars on a Friday night.

“Is this okay?”

You turned to Tom and same as you, he was scanning the bar before giving you a thumbs up. Looking around for a place to sit, you caught eye of Luisa waving frantically at you.

“Hey stranger, over here!”

With a grin, you nudged Tom and nodded towards where Luisa was sitting before walking to her table with raised eyebrows. Luisa was talking in hushed whispers to the rest of your friends before she turned back to you with a wide smile.

“Look who the cat dragged in,” Luisa teased and you rolled your eyes good-naturedly.

“Oh ha ha, don’t act like I’m never around, I come out plenty.”

“No she doesn’t,” Maisie said to Tom, a shit eating grin on her face, similar to the grin her girlfriend was wearing. “You must be a real good influence on her.”

Tom laughed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I’m doing my best. But she actually was doing homework before she agreed to come out with me, so-“

With a glare, you bumped his side with yours.

“Stop or I won’t introduce you to my friends,” you warned him.

He raised his hands in surrender, though the smirk on his face portrayed the complete opposite.

Grinning, you shook your head fondly before you turned to the table. “Alright, so Tom this is Jessica, David, Henry, Max and Maisie, twins, by the way and you’ve already met my lovely roommate Luisa. Everyone, this is Tom. Be nice.”

Tom waved into the round and your friends all gave him friendly smiles. You bet all your money that Luisa had told them to keep their cool before you approached their table.

“Come on, sit down!”

Your friends scooted in the booth and you slid next Luisa, with Tom on your left.

While you gave Luisa a thankful hand squeeze, you noticed Tom was pressing his hands nervously on his legs, his eyes darting around.

“Hey,” you said, placing your hand on top of his like it was your second nature. His eyes snapped up to yours in surprise, while his fingers entangled with yours.

“You’ll be fine, stop being so nervous.”

Tom smiled sheepishly at you and squeezed your hand. “Sorry.”

Shooting him a quick smile, you held his hand for a while longer before pulling away, noticing the look Luisa was giving you.

“Shut up,” you muttered and grabbed one of the beers Maisie poured out for you and Tom. While you kept your hand wrapped around the cold glass, he raised his with a quick “Cheers.”

The conversation at the table briefly stocked, but when Jessica mentioned the new restaurant that was opening around the corner, everyone was quick to state their opinion. And even though Tom wasn’t necessarily actively involved in the conversation, he was content to sit back and watch you interact with your friends.

“Sorry if I am being too forward,” one of the guys, Tom wasn’t too sure, but his name might be Max, suddenly spoke up, his eyes on Tom.

“But I really liked Far From Home. You did a great job.”

Tom beamed at that compliment and ducked his head, ever the humble person that he was.

“Aw, thanks man. I really hoped that people would like it, and I’m really proud of the movie,” he said, while your friends were glued to his lips. “The pressure on the movie being the last of Marvel’s Phase Three really made me nervous, but yeah. I’m glad it all worked out in the end.”

“So when’s the next movie coming out?” Maisie asked and Tom chuckled, shaking his head quickly.

“Fuck if I know. But I couldn’t even tell you if I wanted to, they would kill me.”

Your friends laughed and you laughed with them, a soft look on your face as you traced the water drops from the condensation on your glass.

Tom’s cheeks were pink, secretly pleased that he made your friends laugh, but even though he really wanted your friends to like him, all his attention was on you. He always wanted to see you happy and laughing and it was weird, because he hasn’t even known you for that long to value your happiness so much.

Back at home, he tried to focus on his family and friends, enjoy his time off and just spend it bumming around, but he was constantly thinking about you and wondering what you were currently up to. You were just so easy to be around and something about you made him want more. And Tom knew that you wanted more, too. But something was clearly holding you back and that was okay.

He was in no rush.

“So Tom, where are you staying?” Luisa asked, casually playing with the pretzel in her fingers. “Because I couldn’t help but notice that you turned up on our doorstep with your bags in hand.”

“Yeah, our doorstep which you gave him the keys to, Lu,” you interjected and your friends snickered as Luisa patted your arm consolingly, while Tom watched you, way too amused by the scene that was unfolding in front of him. Judged by the reactions from the rest of your friends, this bickering was routine for Luisa and you.

“It was to do you a favor, Y/N. Are you seriously trying to tell me that you weren’t happy to see him?”

“Whatever,” you grumbled and Luisa winked at Tom, before waving her hand at him. “So? Where are you staying?”

“Uh, I booked a hotel room. Don’t worry, I’m not trying to overextend my stay.” Tom said quickly but Luisa shook her head.

“Oh please, you should come and stay with us!”

“He should?” you asked, spluttering. “Do you expect him to sleep on the couch?”

“No,” Maisie grinned, leaning forward to bring your attention on her. “Luisa can spend the nights at my place as long as Tom is staying here.”

You eyed her skeptically. “And you’re okay with that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay with my girlfriend spending the night?”

“I was talking to Max,” you pointed out and Max shrugged with his shoulders before nodding. “Yeah, it’s fine. I can put on headphones.”

You snorted and shook your head before turning to Tom who was making himself small.

“I can spend the night at the hotel,” he offered. “If you don’t feel comfortable-“

“No, you should stay with me,” you said with a final tone and he smiled softly at you.

“Okay.”

As the night progressed and the beers were poured, you found yourself enjoying yourself a lot, and that Tom was getting along so well with your friends made it even better. There were a few fans who approached the table and asked for a picture with Tom which he politely declined, but otherwise it was good night.

It was nearing one am in the morning when you got up, after noticing Tom has yawned three times in a row.

“Alright guys, we’re calling it a night. I have to get this guy in his bed or I’ll end up carrying him all the way back,” you said and he frowned.

“You couldn’t take me, darling. I’m too buff.” He said, flexing his biceps and you pushed his arms away.

“Get out of here,” you laughed, while Jessica fanned herself.

“Such a dreamboat. If you’re not taking him Y/N, I will!”

“Bye guys,” you grinned and Tom waved his hands before the two of you exited the bar, slightly intoxicated from all the beers you’ve been drinking, but not too much that it was clouding your judgement.

Though the chilly air from outside was welcoming after having spent the past couple of hours in a stuffy bar, it still made you shiver a bit and you crossed your arms in an attempt to warm yourself up.

“You cold?” Tom asked, already slipping out of his jacket to drape it over your shoulders. You pushed your arms through the sleeves and shot him a grateful smile.

“Thanks Tom.”

“Don’t mention it.”

He stuffed his hands into his pockets and your fingers were clutching the sleeve of his leather jacket as you walked.

“I am really glad that you hit it off with my friends,” you then said and he glanced at you with a smile.

“Me too. They’re super fun,” he chuckled. “It’s refreshing to be around people who are in a completely different industry than I am. It can get kind of boring talking to actors and actresses all the time.”

“Oh yeah,” you nodded. “Must be really boring to work with Robert Downey Jr and Zendaya, I pity you.”

Tom huffed and bumped your shoulder with his. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

You laughed cheekily at him, stopping in front of the building of your apartment, looking expectantly at Tom.

“What? Luisa didn’t give you the key to the apartment building, too?”

“You know you’d look pretty dumb now if she would have,” he pointed out while you unlocked the door, the grin on your face wide. You weren’t sure if you were ever able to stop smiling again.

“I know I would have. Lucky me, right?” You said over your shoulder as you walked up the stairs.

“You know something else?”

“What?”

You turned around to him when you stopped in front of your apartment door, looking at him with expectant eyes.

“That jacket looks better on you than it ever did on me,” he told you, running his hands down your arms.

You snorted, while he looked down at you with a soft look on his face, his hands settling on your waist.

“Are you telling me I can keep the jacket?”

Tom shrugged, the tip of his shoes clanking against yours as he stepped closer. “You should. I am not lying, darling.”

Blushing, you wrinkled your nose at him. “I’d rather have a new one.”

The corners of his lips pulled up and his grip on your waist tightened.

“You’re really something else Y/N,” he mumbled and you could count the freckles on his face when he leaned in.

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rogersbabyyy · 5 years

Text

sex, drugs, rock n’roll | roger taylor

author’s note: me? posting a fic? this is much too strange! i really have no excuse for writing this other than i was horny and just wanted to write some filthy ass 70s sex where everyone’s high and and it’s a lot of fun. but please don’t do drugs it’s not a good idea, this is just for fictional sake and me wishing i was a groupie :) also, i tried to change up my writing style a bit a try and get into the head of someone on cocaine, hence the repetition and somewhat scattered internal monologue. i really hope you enjoy, please reblog!

summary: you get high and fuck roger at one of freddie’s parties... that’s it.

warnings/tags: this is the most disgusting thing i’ve written. DRUG USE!!, foul language, smut (dom!roger makes an appearance), but mostly heavy drug use (cocaine) so pls pls dont read if u feel uncomfy!

word count: 3.7k

not proofread

Two hours ago, the party had conformed to become a force of life in itself; roaring and fantastical, welcoming and formidable, all at the same time. Nothing less than outrageous, there were naked girls, naked boys, lounging on Freddie Mercury’s grand staircase, snogging and touching and almost fucking right for everyone to see.

The latest disco hit playing through the stereo system was nothing but a pounding heartbeat for the writhing bodies to obey, hands clutching glasses swaying above heads, shoes kicked to the sides of the room, heads unconsciously bobbing to the beat.

It was the quintessential celebration for the release of Queen’s latest album, months and months of hard work, Roger arriving home every night (morning?) at two, and proceeding to wake you up at six o’clock anyway with the crush of his golden cymbals and throb of his bass drum. Not that you minded, but… it was nice to finally have the chance to let loose, and the boys, finally earning a proper wage of their own, had the money for parties like these now.

The host of the evening (and lead singer of the band) adorned in a leotard clinging to every curve of his muscular body and showing off his chest covered in a soft dawn of hair, had been busy all night entertaining his guests, balancing a velvet crown atop his head with one hand, a glass of bubbly champagne in the other (his matching cloak long ago discarded), his booming tenor voice always assuring that more drinks were coming, and oh, come on darling, you must have another.

Brian and John, however, were long gone; as soon as one of Freddie’s friends dumped an assorted mix of drugs onto the table (causing to Brian to choke on his beer, with someone needing to thump him on the back for a solid two minutes before he recovered), he whisked Chrissie out of there, and John was always yearning to be with his little babies these days (they were utterly precious; Freddie constantly demanded that they be brought round to the studio).

So, that left you with the drummer.

Your boyfriend, Roger, was situated firmly at your side, the hand that wasn’t holding an ice cold glass of whiskey thrown around your waist. His shirt was unbuttoned almost to his navel, exposing his toned abdomen shining with sweat (not unlike the little black dress you were wearing, with a neckline that dipped so low it really didn’t leave anything to the imagination), and oh, did he ever look delicious. And, he obviously thought the same of you; for the way his tongue was licking slow, deliberate stripes over your exposed neck, causing you to giggle so hysterically, it probably had something to do with the remnants of fine white powder littering the glass table, on which your nose was pressed up against approximately five seconds ago.

Euphoric was barely a satisfying enough word to describe how you were feeling. You were orgasmic, horny, powerful, high, burning up (God, you were hot); and from the way Roger’s baby blue eyes were fixed on you, dilated and glazed over, he wasn’t feeling all that different. Growling softly against your neck, his head clouded with a high of his own, his lips hot, so hot, burning, exerted to find the words he desired to describe what he wanted to do to you.

“Mhm, lovie,” he moaned, “Want to, want... ” he laughed softly against you, his equilibrium simultaneously failing him, as he lost what little balance he had left and swayed against you, spilling his drink all over his front in the process.

“Ah, fuck,” He discarded the glass by letting it roll out of his hand and onto the beautiful Persian rug below, and you found this unspeakably hilarious, laughing harder until his lips finally found yours in a kiss so filthy it belonged in a porn movie. Open mouths, tongues entwined in a furious dance, he tasted of his whiskey, Benson & Hedges cigarettes, the hor d’oeuvres that had been floating around all night on silver trays, and something else that was just inexplicably him.

“Naughty dress you’re wearin,” he tried again, lips breaking from yours, and then, barely suppressing a grin; “M’ so horny. M’ so horny you don’t even know. Wanna fuck you right here, don’t give a fuck if anyone sees. Need to fuck you, need your cunt, need you, need you,” He repeated the words continuously, his voice ending as a mumble as he went back to press open mouthed kisses against your neck, on which you’d know there’d be countless bruises in the morning.

Your heart throbbed faster, faster, fasterfasterfaster, and it wasn’t even a question in your mind to squeeze the stiffy growing in his too tight jeans; no one was really even looking, too busy dancing and kissing and drinking and smoking and laughing and-

“I swear to God, I will come in my jocks if you keep bloody doing tha’.” He choked, grasping your wrist and squeezing it softly.

“Well, s’much as I wanna fuck here, I don’t think Fred would appreciate seeing your cock, as lovely as it is,” you beamed up at him, and he giggled softly back, brushing your hair to one side.

“Hm, you have a point, kitten,” he peppered your neck with a few more slow kisses, before his lips found your ear to whisper, “Besides, we wouldn’t want everyone seeing your pretty cunt, because that’s all mine.”

Oh, he owned you, he owned you so bad, and you could feel your walls tighten at his words, and oh how you wished they were clenching around him instead.

“Please, Rogie, let’s go, upstairs, somewhere, the bathroom or the car, even-”

“Calm down, lovie, c’mon, let’s go upstairs… Be needin’ some o’ this,” Roger staggered sideways to snatch up one of the last small plastic bags left on the table, bulging almost to the brim with white powder, “Let’s go.”

Your hand in his as was clammy and hot, God it was so hot, as you took a grievous amount of time to scale Freddie’s staircase in platform heels that perhaps maybe possibly you might have stolen from John, it was too long ago to remember. So, you kicked them off, and they clunk clunk clunked as they bumped their way down the stairs; you’d pick them up later, but probably not, because you were so horny and so bloody fucked up that really the only thing you were thinking at that point about was grinding slowly on Roger’s cock.

Your clit throbbed at the thought, and you fell against his side, moaning softly, his arm encircling your waist to keep you upright.

“Here,” Roger grunted, sweeping you up in his arms as if you weighed nothing at all, and you howled gleefully, legs failing as your halfheartedly moaned for him to set you back down.

“Roger, stop!”

He ignored your pleas, a soft, dazed smile on his face, as he pushed open the door to the nearest room with his shoulder; which happened to be a master bedroom with a four-poster bed, surround by a floaty, gauzy fabric.

He set you down gently on the mattress.

“Right,” he smiled, and for as high as he was, he unsealed the small bag and carefully tapped out a short, perfect line of cocaine on the bedside table. “Ladies first, hm?”

Reaching for the five pound note in his outstretched hand, (“Thank you very much, kind sir,”) you rolled it into a tight cylinder with some difficulty, your hands were trembling so much (from the drug, or from the need for more of it?) and hovered over the line, sniffing as hard as you could as the powder rushed its way upward, Roger’s hands carefully holding your hair back in a makeshift ponytail as the stimulant worked its magic.

Within seconds the drug was in your blood, in your brain, sizzling and popping and making you shiver in delight, oh, it felt good, and you sniffed again, your head dizzy and the room whirling around and aroundaroundaround until your eyes came to a focus on Roger right at your side. He seemed ten times more attractive, if possible, and you quite literally drooled at the sight of him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as the room whirled once more.

“Good, huh?” His eyes were excited, as he unbuttoned his shirt completely now and shrugged it off, the fabric landing in a heap on the floor, his hand sliding down the small of your back to squeeze your ass, practically hanging out of your too-tight and much-too-short dress.

“So good,” you said, running your fingers through your hair, your palms coming to rest on his shoulders, “Fuck, I feel like I could do anything. And I’m so horny I could die,”

“Know the fuckin’ feelin’,” he groaned, pushing you backward onto the awaiting bed, his mouth clumsily finding yours in a messy snog, his hands obviously focused on something else;

“Please get those pretty tits out fo’ me,” he growled, his hot hands everywhere all at once, all at once, all at once yesyesyesyes, and God it felt so good, pulling at your dress and squeezing your hips and cradling your pyretic cheeks, “Been teasin’ me all night like the whore you are, mhm, such a little whore, yes,” finally, he managed to rip your pretty black dress right down the middle, your breasts bouncing as they were revealed to him.

His feverish, insistent mouth eagerly found one of your nipples, nipping the soft bud between his teeth. In return, you gasped, thrusting your chest forward ohohohohfuck and yanking on his salty hair. He sucked on it until the bud pebbled, hard against his tongue, and the other breast received the same treatment, Roger always being one for fairness.

“Lay down, c’mon,” his voice was a soft whine, a palm on your shoulder to push you backward onto the luxurious mattress, on which you fell against like one of those rich white girls in chick flicks, collapsing after a long day of retail therapy.

And before your brain could process what he up to, the bag of cocaine was in his hand, and he poured a generous line over the dip in between your breasts, a mischievous grin lighting up his face as he did so.

“Mhm, let’s get it all over, that’s it, all over your pretty tits,” he simpered, his chest heaving with anticipation and arousal, as he tidied up the line with his fingertips, “Always wanted to do this, gettin’ high off your body, mhm…”

“Oh, you’re filthy!” You gasped, as he pressed his soft, upturned nose in the valley, not even bothering with the rolled up fiver. Holding one nostril closed, he snorted the fine powder all in an alarmingly fast fluid motion, your hand entangled in his hair to hold him close to you as he did so, before he shot up like a person possessed.

“Oh, shit!”

He was a flurry of blurry blonde locks as shook his head from side to side, almost violently, his body positively trembling when he was done as he sniffed hard, a final time. His eyes rolled back in his head briefly, before fixating on your lips, and stating in a deadpan voice as clear as day;

“I might die if I don’t fuck you right now.”

You thought it impossible for your heart to race any faster than it was, but your body proved you wrong, your head and the inside of your wrists and every limb pounding hard and fast to the rhythm of the organ, like one of Roger’s particularly fast drum beats that left him panting and shaking from adrenaline (in fact, not so different from his current state).

“Fuck me then, would you? I’m so wet I think I’ve made a mess,” your voice was a soft, hoarse, giggle, as you looked down to find a noticeable dark patch on the white lacy g-string you’d had the foresight to wear.

“See! Oops!” You laughed loudly, slipping your fingers past the material to rub your throbbing clit, throbthrobthrobbing godyouweresowet, and you pouted teasingly when Roger could do nothing but stare. “What, don’t you want me, Rogie?”

His eyes flickered shut as they rolled backward again, showing you the whites as painful, animalistic whimper left his throat. His hands fumbled at a speed you’d never seen before to unbuckle his belt, tugging down his flared denim jeans (that were all the rage at the moment).

While he did so, you removed your fingers from their place over your core, you brought them to your mouth, taking your index and pointer fingers to the knuckle, before dragging them down over your lips.

Finally managing to slide the leader belt through the loops of his jeans, Roger shook his head as you this, his gaze almost becoming furious and disapproving as he leant toward you and nudged your hand away from your mouth, replacing your fingers with his own.

“Uh-uh,” he scolded, “Don’t you dare tease me like that now, lovie.”

You sucked eagerly on his fingers, tongue running thoroughly over the tips of each, kissing and sucking and perhaps wanted them rubbing over your needy clit instead.

As if reading your mind, Roger’s fingers withdrew slicky from your mouth, spanking the sweet bundle of nerves between your legs, just enough that you convulsed, shuddering at his touch; “Fuck!”

“Open your mouth,” he commanded, forcefully taking your face in his hand and squeezing your cheeks until you obeyed, eyes crazed and jubilant.

With a soft hum, he let a single strand of his saliva drip from his mouth to yours, dribbling slowly onto your awaiting tongue, as you swallowed eagerly and jutted your chin out proudly to show him your efforts.

“Tha’s my girl.”

“Can you fuck me now, please?” You moaned, sliding your knickers past your ankles to toss them over Roger’s shoulder, all the while giving him the sexiest puppy dog eyes you were able to muster up.

“Since you asked so nicely.” Yanking his boxer shorts off and kicking them toward the foot of the bed, you finally got to wrap your hand around his length as it bobbed upward to tap against his tummy, beads of precum leaking from the tip, feeling the throb of his erratic drug fuelled heartbeat pulse through his shaft.

“Such a needy boy,” you whispered, legs spreading earnestly as you greedily guided his palpitating member to your core. The cherry coloured blush that was the head of his cock slid past the swollen lips of your cunt, and the both of you shivered in a bout of ecstasy, moaning against each other as Roger clutched you to his chest.

He then slid out of you slowly, before immediately jerking his hips back toward you, making you scream, digging the heel of your foot into his back.

“You’re so bloody wet,” he gasped, collapsing his weight onto his forearms as his thrusts continued the erratic pace he’d established moments before, one slow thrust, and then fastfastfastfaster-

“You’re so fucking huge, oh my God, I love your cock, I love your cock, I love-”

-until he returned to his teasingly slow pace. Whimpering, you hid your face in the crook of your elbow, eyes squeezed shut as you shakily begged your boyfriend to increase his pace.

“I’ll fuck you how I like,” he grunted, angling his cock in a way that it only just nudged your g-spot, making your toes curl as his hips finally found the familiar rhythm that you so adored: fast, steady, and hard.

The room resumed its spinning motion from earlier as his cock sent you into a bout of euphoria, his balls making the filthiest noises you’d ever heard as their momentum caused them to slap against your your dripping pussy.

“You feel so fucking good, holy fuck,”

His cock made a slick, wet sound as he pulled out of you, and you whined, cunt clenching around nothing, so emptyemptyempty.

“Why’d you stop?”

“Get on your hands n’ knees, c’mon love, c’mon, need t’be back in your cunt,” He was panting, his hair soaking with sweat, his palms so warm so hot so boiling, as they found your waist to flip you over, making you titter deliriously as you landed on your front, ass in the air and cheek against the soft dawn of the mattress.

“Pass us the coke, angel,” you felt him smile as he pressed the gentlest of kisses against the back of your shoulder, as you stretched to reach the little bag filled to the brim with euphoria to pass over to your boyfriend.

Catching you by surprise, his palm came down sharply on the supple skin of your ass, as you jolted forward and squealed, clutching the sheets against the sting of your skin that was just the right blend between pleasure and pain.

“You like that, don’t you? Filthy little thing, an absolute slut, horny and dripping, all for who? Hm?”

“For you, for you, only for you, Rog!”

Feeling a tickling sensation between your asscheeks, you knew what Roger was doing immediately, knew he was tapping out what was left of the white powder on the barely-an-inch of skin that separated your two holes.

“Stay still,” he muttered, palms spreading your cheeks apart to bury his face in between them, snorting the powder in a quick, practiced movement.

A slurred jumble of profanities left his mouth as the smaller amount of the drug boosted the euphoria coursing around his system, and he delivered a final spank to your ass, and you yelped and laughed deliriously once more.

“Alright, c’mon, you naughty thing, back up you get,” His staunch arms encircled your waist and lifted you so were you sitting upright.

“Want you t’ride my cock, think you can do that fo’ me?”

“Yes, yes, oh, please, want you back inside me,” you begged, clambering on top of your boyfriend as he settled against the headboard of the bed, his eyes clouded with lust as you rocked desperately against his thigh. “Feel so empty.”

“I can certainly help you with that, darlin’, mhm, oh, oh fuck,” he grunted as you took a hold of his member and settled down onto it, pushing him inside you.

Grinding your hips against him slowly, it was Roger’s turn to whimper, as his hands squeezed your waist to keep you balanced against him.

“Please, love,” his voice was hoarse, “need to you- oh, yes.”

Using your knees as leverage, you re-commenced the steady tempo, except now you were in charge. You bounced on his cock, taking him right to the hilt every time, your breasts bouncing in front of his face, in and out and in and out outandinoutandin…

You went to throw your head back in a wail of pleasure, but Roger’s hand found the back of your neck to stop you, and he growled,

“Watch. Watch yourself bouncin’ on my cock.”

You looked down at the join of your bodies and moaned gutturally at the sigh of his dick soaked in your wetness, his veins pink and throbbing, so pretty, God his cock was gorgeous-

You reached down to rub your stiff, hard, slit, your movement becoming messier and erratic, Roger announcing;

“I’m so close, love, I’m so close-”

“Come inside me, I don’t care, please, want you in my cunt, Rog, please,”

“Bloody fuckin’-”

You didn’t need to tell him twice. Your words alone prompted a callous growl from his diaphragm, his muscles seizing and spasming as his warm seed covered the walls of your pulsing cunt, hips jerking of their own accord as he emptied himself inside you.

The feeling of his cum inside you, paired with the stunning sight of his orgasm, pushed you to your own.

“Roger, Roger, oh my God, Roger-!” The coil in your stomach popped, your eyes rolling backward as they did when you took your first line of the drug, falling into his chest as your trembled.

“Tha’s it pretty girl,” he encouraged, still shaking from his own orgasm and the cocaine and everything was just overwhelming as you came all over his cock, “Tha’s it, come for me, fuck, you’re clenching so hard-”

And that’s when you squirted all over his cock, drenching him with your cum, almost looking like a person having a seizure.

If he had it in him, Roger could have come again right then and there. His ego certainly inflated a solid few degrees (although it was already relatively huge; c’mon, this was the 70s), because he did that to you. He made you squirt all over his cock, and forget the cocaine; that was the most powerful feeling was capable of experiencing.

Rolling off of you in a tangle of limbs, Roger’s breathing was hoarse and loud and rough as he fought to catch his breath.

“Fuck, that was hot.”

Eyes heavily lidded, the tiny floating pinprick sized silver stars still sporadically clouding your vision, you sighed contently, feeling fuzzy and happy and high as a kite and most importantly, in love.

You knew it wouldn’t last long; the inevitable crash would creep up on you out of nowhere and have you reaching for a cigarette or glass of wine, or, most likely, Roger’s arms, where you’d have a good cry for no particular reason.

“Rogie?” You murmured, rolling on your side to rest your head on his shining chest, hearing his turbulent heartbeat thunder against your ear.

“Yes, angel?” His eyes were still bright and misty from the drug, and yet, they surveyed yours carefully, his arm wrapping around you. “That was fun, dontcha think?”

“‘Course,” you smiled, “like having your cum inside me, all dripping out.”

“Fuckin’ Christ,” he kissed you again, “n’ I love marking you up, darlin’, letting everyone know you’re mine, all mine, mine, mine…”

He smiled his perfect little cheeky schoolboy grin, “Love you, angel, you know that? ‘Cos I do, I love you, wanna be yours n’ fuck you forever.”

Your vision was hazy, the last of the cocaine beginning to thin in your blood, the crash creeping up on you as the seconds ticked by-

“I love you, Rog.”

-but, boy, could Freddie throw a party. And Roger: he was worth it.

#roger taylor #roger taylor smut #roger taylor fluff #roger taylor x reader #ben hardy smut #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy! roger taylor #ben hardy fluff #ben hardy

1K notes · View notes

hua-fei-hua · 4 years

Note

almost 15 min till midnight but trivia for the Bb oneshots pls~

WOOHOO

these works are actually why “alternate universe - marching band” is one of my top ten additional tags on my ao3

three cents shy

three cents shy was published the night before i went on tour with band as a junior

i did not double check the final posting before leaving, so when i came back four days later, i found out that a rare character i used counted as an emoji, and like most of the last scene was cut off and man i was embarrassed

i actually don’t really reread this fic bc well, it’s an older fic the self-improvement since then is glaring and bc of aforementioned embarrassing memory but god i’m having feels now

there’s a bit in three cents where momo’s practicing the flute, and she lists off the notes in her head while counting.

the notes she listed off were part of a real song i played on the piano that actually might come back as a chapter title later on in the series

it’s an anime song but i translated those lyrics myself 3.5?? years ago in english class dammit

the rhythm, however, was taken from one of our festival pieces from my sophomore year that the flutes always had trouble with

i got a review on ff.net on three cents from a girl who played the flute whose boyfriend played the trumpet telling me how much she loved the fic bc it was about her otp and they played the same instruments as her and her bf, and honestly i still think abt that sometimes. how is flute girl doing i wonder

she also said she’d wait forever until more of the series came out so again i wonder how flute girl is doing

three cents shy was initially titled without you, life would Bb, which would have also been a pun on momo’s flute being flat

obviously, the title changed when i realized i could MAKE THIS INTO A S E R I E S

three cents is also the only fic in the series w/o a very clear musical pun on it; it only makes sense if you read the fic

oh dear god i forgot abt the bit in here where it said kyouka got her soulmate to stop being a dumbass by playing nothing but the pink panther theme on loop for a week AHAHA

and that’s how she lost her chance at the sax solo freshman year she was too busy badly playing the pink panther theme lol

todoroki’s not actually the type of person to gravitate towards the trumpet; i just picked tpt for him bc i like boys who play the trumpet LMAO

fucking sue me man

besides, there’s always the exceptions to the rule; instrument stereotypes are stereotypes for a reason but they’re usually spot fucking on

i had hardly started chapter six of orchid when i wrote three cents: you can actually see the starting struggles of that chapter a few pages before you get to like eight solid pages of just working on three cents in my tiny notebook lol

“‘we made good progress today but remember…’ ‘there’s always room for improvement’ the band teased. some memes died hard.” is actually lifted straight from my own band

we memed hard on one of our drum majors for always saying “we made good progress today but remember, there’s always room for improvement!!” since he got the job

kyouka going c” in her texts is smth that i habitually use instead of winking like c; in texts w/friends bc even though i don’t know the inside joke that had some of my other friends start using it, it carries these different, more smug connotations to it in my mind that can’t be encapsulated w/either c: or c;

three cents shy as an idea/fanfiction pitch actually came after paper faces

kyouka’s name in momo’s phone was originally 𝓴𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓴𝓪𝓷𝓾𝓽, but was changed to normal lettered “kyoukanut” bc of the aforementioned rare-character problem that embarrassed me when first posting this to ao3 lol

kyouka having the nickname kyoukanut is actually bc i’d just left the snk fandom, and they had this one joke on one of the characters looking like a coconut, so i think that was just fresh in my mind and i was like “ah yes i should make a coconut joke out of kyouka’s name” and now it’s just my go-to dumb phone name for her in fics

three cents is the only prequel oneshot; all the others happen concurrently to or after music of the moment

we actually don’t get wifi signal in our practice rooms unless we’re very lucky, which is a detail you’ll see more often in moment

fermata

i started fermata on the bus while on tour in my tiny notebook, though i was mostly thinking abt a krbk love, simon au which i really do still have a lot written out for it’s just that whenever i reach the end of that doc i’m immediately stuck as to how to connect it to some of the other good chunks i have

my friend sitting in front of me asked me what i wrote in my tiny notebooks as i was doing so, and i was like “mostly fanfiction” and she was like “idk what i was expecting but definitely not that”

fermata is also the one and only fic i’ve ever posted where when i finished responding to one comment, two more came into my inbox

fermata is actually my most popular ao3 oneshot. not just among my bnha oneshots, my most popular ao3 oneshot

still chasing that high tbh

i mean rereading it i can understand its popularity. it’s definitely very self-indulgent lol

i wrote both these oneshots before i started encrypting the names in the fanfic written in my tiny notebook, so if i posted pictures they’d actually be entirely readable lol

fermata was written during my self-imposed fanfiction exile in my junior year when i was studying for ap chem, and there are comments on it from when i came back a month later that i just. never responded to and still feel bad abt lol

bakugou was initially supposed to be a trumpet player in this au, but then we got the cultural festival arc at around this time so we were like “oh i guess he’s in percussion now”

the line “We the players are expendables and mean nothing in comparison to our several-thousand-dollar instruments” is a real thing our drum majors and (old) band director told us as a joke

“didn’t she get mad at you for getting water all over her drumset last year?” is actually referencing smth that was supposed to happen in moment, but due to story changes is probably not gonna happen

which basically means it’s almost definitely not gonna be shown :c

i might have to retcon little bits of this one due to a major plot point that’ll come up later in the multichap, but it’s not in need of a rewrite like ty for the music bc it’s one of those subtle details that gets revealed and recontextualizes some previous happenings

“fifty push-ups is not a reasonable punishment for dropping the baton”

1. this is a real thing that happened to our clumsy drum major, but with five push ups

2. like a year after publishing this fic i found out that there are two DIFFERENT sticks that drum majors twirl: one’s a baton, which is smaller and easier to twirl; the other’s a mace, which i’m pretty sure is just a bigger, heavier baton, but it takes far more skill to twirl

anyway i actually got a comment on ao3 from a person saying that their band’s drum major just had really reflective gloves and didn’t get to do anything as cool as twirling a stick and i still think about that sometimes tbh

“fuck you and your two hundred dollar mallets too” bc drumsticks are like ten bucks but a pair of timpani mallets are for whatever reason like two hundred dollars

this fic is probably the first time i ever referred to bkg by his first name, and reading it actually feels kinda weird to me rn lol

the only reason fermata is rated t is bc (you guessed it) bakugou katsuki swears a lot, but also, jirou gets to say fuck

i put a little fermata into the document title of the google doc just bc

thank you for the music

you obvs already know this went under a complete rewrite recently so maybe this’ll be a mix of trivia abt the rewrite and the original so we’ll see

this was named after an abba song bc abba slaps and was mostly titled such bc it was meant to be the last part of Bb chronologically

the fact that it’s the name of a oneshot in the series means that i don’t get to use it as a chapter title during moment tho >:C

this was also my first time writing izch and remained my only izch oneshot until legato lol

i don’t remember how long it took for me to write the original version, but the second version came out all in one day i think

both versions were written entirely in onenote and then copy-pasted into google docs afterwards

i feel like you know most of the trivia abt this one already like how it was rewritten bc i needed to retcon the ending where ochako did the soulmate reveal bc w/the new quirklessness parallel deku can’t hear the thing

this is my first published instance of eri, and i have to say published instead of writing here bc i’d written her into moment before writing her in the rewrite here lol

yeah she was mentioned in the original one but that doesn’t count she didn’t show up or say anything

she shows up in moment chapter four, just as an extra trivia fact

this was actually a semi-obligatory oneshot bc at the time of first publishing, i was like “i have four favorite bnha ships that i want to actively write fic for, and we have smth for the first three, so i guess i need to write one for the fourth one too”

not a trivia bit abt any of my fics, but i actually call the four aforementioned fave ships (tdmm, kmjr, krbk, n izch) “the usual convoy” where i like to write oneshots featuring them n if i can fit them into my story i’m gonna do it

and then i have a few more for a total of btwn seven n nine ships that i call “the extended convoy” (so like three to five beyond the usual) where i don’t usually have plans to have them star in any fics, but if i can fit them into the bg, be mentioned in passing, or just have an idea that can accommodate a large cast/number of ships, i have a few extra go-to extras

legato

no idea where the idea of this came from. i was just sitting around literally two weeks ago, thinking abt Bb, thinking abt izch as dat good ol bffs to lovers dynamic, thinking abt some fun shitty headcanons/worldbuilding for the au, and then i guess they all came together and i was overcome by an immediate urge to write this

honestly it probably just came from me thinking of old choir warm ups hahaha

i think abt Bb a lot these days so that would make a lot of sense

yeah legato’s existence technically ruins the joke for ty for the music’s title but i love the way it turned out???

it’s the only Bb oneshot so far to have not come out in 2018

what this means is that basically i took a series that’s over two years old and suddenly gave it new, unplanned content

that being said, it’s the only Bb oneshot to be fully compliant with the overhauled plot and details of music of the moment upon first publishing

the ice cream parlor izch hangs out in is run by sir nighteye, and it’s called the night eye’s scream as a really really bad pun

unlike most locations in this au, the ice cream parlor does not have a real world counterpart

technically, neither does the park, but the park at least draws from a bunch of different parks i’ve been to and hung out in

the reason ochako mentions she really likes the music in the shop is bc there’s this one worldbuilding detail i came up w/a while ago that shops and cafes often like to have unique songs that will occasionally play in their locations so that if you have a soulmate who works there or just hangs out there a lot, you can easily track them down

we actually played a piece called “baroque hoedown” for our winter concert in my senior year, and it really was fucking hell, as mentioned in legato

i mentioned this in the a/n, but the reason it’s titled legato is bc it’s supposed to reflect the smooth, seamless transition btwn friends and lovers for izch

i remember sitting down and writing this and thinking, “what should iida’s ringtone be?” and then realizing that they are modern american teenagers in this au and any meme i can think of goes, and ochako would probably be the memelord of the three of them (of the dekusquad todoroki is obviously the biggest memelord behind closed doors), so i was like “SONIC FUCKING X THEME”

all the songs that deku plays for ochako to figure out are all pep tunes from my time in marching band, which is why they’re so mish-mash and random

the bit where ochako says “it’s the milf song” (n then deku’s like “that’s not the first time you’ve called smth the milf song”) is referencing a bit of joke dialogue that’ll probably not make it into moment, but will almost definitely appear another oneshot

i also had no idea that stacy’s mom was a milf song and made the terrible decision of going against my section leader’s recommendation to not look it up and heard the lyrics and was like “oh no :(”

legato is the only Bb work so far to not include the tag “alternate universe - marching bang” bc it doesn’t include enough of band to warrant that tag; hence why it’s tagged under “alternate universe - musicians”

i say so far bc i had a very cute ojtr idea for this au where tooru stars in the spring musical, and they’d probably get tagged under “alternate universe - theater/musicals” or smth. idk if i’ll write that bc i haven’t had stage acting experience in a long time, but it’ll be alluded to during moment

i had a very strong vision for what i wanted in this fic, which is probably why it came out with me feeling very satisfied w/it compared to ty for the music, which like i mentioned earlier was initially written out of lowkey obligation

legato had a lot more direction and knew what it wanted to be, whereas ty for the music was just kinda like “and then this happened lol”

legato is currently the only fic i have on ao3 that i didn’t cross-post to ff.net

dunno why, i just had a bad feeling abt doing that, so i left the first edition of ty for the music up on ff.net and made legato an ao3 exclusive

i previously had fics up on ff.net that i never cross-posted to ao3, and i still have some of those up (see: nineteen snk fics on ff.net vs. seventeen (two hidden under the anonymous collection) on ao3), but this was my first time doing it the other way around

this was the only fic i’ve ever gifted on a whim (bc i felt you’d really like it) and not bc someone told me i should write more fanfiction and i was like “yeah i should” and then gifting them the thing when it was written

#asks #final trivia fact is that while there's only four Bb oneshots out now the final count might be around six or seven #what was originally gonna happen in moment was that kaminari was gonna go over to jirou's house to apologize for being overzealous #but then it started raining and so then he climbs a tree to have her let him into her room via the window #and then gets water on her drumset and she's like 'YO DUDE WHAT THE FUCK'#it was one of those very vivid images i had walking into the fic that i was basically gonna write everything towards #and you'll see a similar scene to what i had planned out there in moment but one that's definitely changed #i can still see the original scene w/the drumset very vividly; that's never decayed. it's just that the situation changed #anyway now it's one a.m. by my time so it really IS wednesday now lol #i have this habit of memorizing other people's timezones so that i can know if i'm bothering them at odd hours o vo #one of the nice things abt being a night owl and living on the west coast is that other time zones go to bed first #and so then i can work my usual hours w/o being distracted by conversation w/internet friends lol #w/o you Bb #Bb notes: oneshots #since i never expected to do Extra Notes for the oneshots lol #stardust-make-a-wish #also wanna do the thing again where you pick a number btwn 3 n 73 n i give you a chapter summary #that stuff's fun

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ofchlve-blog · 5 years

Text

hiii everyone ! i’m lily, i’m nineteen years young, living in the est timezone, and my preferred pronouns are she/her ! i love everything about harry styles, trash reality tv, and my miniature dachshund :~) as a srat queen, i was so excited about this rp and now that i’ve been accepted i can’t wait to rp with yall ! below is information on my baby, chloe crawford ! if you’re interested in plotting, you can hit me up through tumblr ims or on discord @𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐧𝐨. 𝟏#5964 !!

⋆ ╰ another year at hollingsworth , another year of the big six rivalry . i hear that CHLOE CRAWFORD is ensuring KAPPA KAPPA DELTA gets a solid pledge class and stays at the top of the ranks . oh , you’re not familiar with HER ? CC is the SCARLETT LEITHOLD look alike from CHARLESTON , SOUTH CAROLINA . apart of PC ‘16 , she is majoring in DRAMA/THEATER and has plans to STAR IN HER FIRST MOVIE after undergrad . it makes sense they pledged their house , their CHARISMATIC & ROMANTIC attributes make them perfect matches . however , their FLIGHTY & SACCHARINE attributes keep their name alive on greek rank . if you don’t catch them dancing to POST MALONE - SAM FELDT at a fraternity band party this year , you’ll be sure to catch them nursing their morning hangover at THE KAPPA HOUSE . cheers to another wild semester !

ok i wanted this to be short but i LOVE intros so no promises >:)

chloe harper crawford was born on july 23, 1998 in charleston, south carolina. she is a cancer-leo cusp. her mother is savannah crawford nee harper, an ex-pageant queen, and her father is andrew crawford, of the charleston crawfords.

the crawfords are a veeeery old-money charleston family, and chloe’s father was one of their most successful outputs, running the family business perfectly. chloe and her younger brother braden (born three years after, and the heir presumptive to the crawford throne) were the crown jewel of their picture-perfect family.

chloe’s mother started training the girl the day she was born to follow in her footsteps as a future miss south carolina. despite having the perfect blonde curls and the big blue eyes, the pageant lifestyle didn’t come easily to chloe - she didn’t have the edge, that certain bite needed to slice someone open with a razor-sharp smile.

however, in this training chloe realized that she truly loved the stage, the spotlight, the adoration of the crowd. it didn’t take her long to channel that energy into acting.

though chloe struggled in school, acting made her feel at home. it gave her an outlet, a place to shine, unlike the classroom where she felt awkward and slow. as she grew, she learned to channel the confidence acting gave her into her social life, and suddenly she was the center of attention. being a pretty, rich blonde didn’t hurt either.

as chloe approached college age, it was practically a given that she would go to hollingsworth, rush kkd like her mother, major in something safe like communications or pr, marry a good southern boy, and return to charleston to continue the family legacy. however, she went against the wishes of her family and instead applied to nine different schools, all for their drama programs. she got into all nine, but ultimately decided to go to hollingsworth anyway.

hollingsworth proved to be a place chloe could thrive, that provided her with tons of opportunities. one such opportunity was a short film, written and directed by a semi-famous hollingsworth alum. chloe auditioned and got the lead role, filming over the summer before junior year.

she thought it would be nothing, just a bit of experience for her resume after she finished college and started the hard stuff. but when the film was shown at the new york film festival, it got surprise rave reviews and a lot of attention. suddenly, chloe was a hot commodity, and she’s had offers from major film studios, including a signed contract for a role she’s supposed to play just after she graduates from hollingsworth.

just as chloe’s fortunes were going up, however, her family’s were going down. the summer before her senior year at hollingsworth, the family business was exposed as having corrupt practices, and is on the verge of shutting down. though chloe’s father claims he knows nothing about it, he’s being investigated for fraud.

she’s very VERY nervous about interviewing, press appearances, and the general business of being a rising star. although she acts like a social butterfly and is a very charming girl, it doesn’t necessarily come easy to her. deep down, she still feels like the awkward kid in class, who doesn’t quite fit in or get it, no matter how hard she tries.

despite her high social standing due to being in kkd, she’s one of the sweetest girls you’ll ever meet. she definitely doesn’t subscribe to the idea that kappa girls are better than anyone else -- unless you cross her, she would never hurt a fly and in fact goes out of her way to be nice to people. she truly believes in the idea that everyone’s fighting their own battle and you don’t need to make it any harder for them.

despite that, if you do cross her, and do something major, the claws can come out. she’s not afraid to stand up for herself although she tends to wait a little longer than she should to speak out.

she’s a hopeless romantic and falls in love so fast. she loves being in love just as much as she loves the person she’s with. mostly, she loves being in a relationship and she gives her heart and soul to the person completely.

she’s not the brightest but she is truly kind and sweet.

she’s probably super involved in kkd! she lives at the house and like... probably is that girl who wears her letters everywhere and constantly talks about formals and frat boys. idk whether there’s like ‘positions’ in the rp but i could def see her as recruitment chair or social chair!

chloe is HEAVILY inspired by serena van der woodsen, cher horowitz, elle woods, and bianca from 10 things i hate about you !! she’s a bubbly blonde who has this magnetic appeal you just can’t say no to.

some wanted plots i have for her:

ok so i really want a squad !! like her best friends, ride or die, would do anything for each other ! they could be from any srat or frat, idc !

in the same vein... ex friends / enemies ! honestly chlo prob doesn’t have a lot of these bc she’s too much of a pushover to actually stop being friends w someone but like... maybe something big happened ? let’s plot it out !

party buddies / go-to formal dates ! just some people she really vibes with but maybe aren’t on the level of bffs

crush ! someone little hopeless romantic baby chlo has her eye on :~)

friends to lovers ! i am a SUCKER for this and would love it for chlo. give me a best friend who knows all her secrets and they end up... ~in luv~ ! bonus points if they’re both crushing and don’t know it

secret hookup ! is it an opposites attract thing ? do they just not want anyone to know ? PLS bring me this it would be so fun

(ex) - friends with benefits ! could be either current or a past connection, but would def be fun to work with !

exes - good terms or bad terms ! i love some fun romantic drama and this could def provide that !

co-stars ! ok so i posted THIS but like... imagine how GOOD this wld be... playing love interests but in real life they hate each other or have a crush or something jdfhksjdhf

#this is.... so long and so late #im SORRY #pls love me #rank:intro

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keepyourpantsongohan · 5 years

Text

Ayesha Liveblogs Free! S3

I will never get tired of Makoto offering Haru a hand out of the water

OMG I guess some things do change Makoto’s been dunked and I kinda love it

“I’m never gonna be a normal person” wow who is this this Goth Diet Haru

I love the phrase “hot minute” actually thank u for ur teen slang Asahi

Offering people his lecture notes and texting back right away will anyone ever be as good as Makoto? Trick question no

“I’m still young and innocent” “That’s a weird thing to say” I love that Haru’s meeting a bunch of people who aren’t used to his antics

This flashback seems to indicate that Haru felt Some Kinda Way about Ikuya which is weird because they look almost the same

“Don’t worry too much about the family” LMAO Sosuke has received a blessing from his cousin to follow Rin to Australia

“Just inferior copies of Ikuya” that’d be more meaningful if Ikuya had done anything other than stare broodingly

It’s telling that the Iwatobi team is dressed like the Wiggles in this outro

All this outro really told me is that they aren’t really that good at differentiating main character design

“We have to try not to spoil them too much” I approve of Ikuya’s brother and his co-parenting buddy

“I’m not going to move ever again,” said Asahi, with the full confidence of a twelve-year-old boy who knows absolutely nothing about anything

Okay but for real Ikuya and Haru straight up look like siblings this weird rivalry energy on top of that fact is a little bit Much

[Rose and Rosie voice] It’ll never work out their hair is the same colour

“Is Haru the guy who was all dressed up and riding a camel in the recruiting video we saw?” UNBELIEVABLE their Arabian Nights outro from S1 was actually their recruitment video Iwatobi do u take constructive criticism

“I’ll even be good enough to compete against you” how many rivals does one young man really need my god

Hey Trenchcoat Man maybe introduce yourself before telling these teens how to live their lives

Dude you’re so controlling trying to prevent Ikuya from seeing his friends

Ahhhhh I love Haru being in touch with his emotions and apologizing to Ikuya tbh I give Makoto and Rin a lot of the credit for his ability to communicate lmao

“I’d prefer you didn’t keep him too long” listen I get where you might be coming from since Haru hurt Ikuya’s feelings but also stop that

“Thought I’d give you a wake-up call” I really don’t like the vibe of Hiyori

“Japanese guy! Friend of yours, maybe?” An accurate representation of what it’s like to hang out with white people lmao

There’s a different vibe from a teenager who giggles about swimmers’ muscles to an adult swim coach who is coaching swimming at a university giggling about swimmers’ muscles put that away Mikhail

Hiyori gives me the straight up heebie jeebies every time he opens his mouth

I can’t read Japanese but I have to assume Rin was gonna call Haru and reminisce about their bed sharing night lmao

Natsuya is some kinda Swimming Capitalist Nomad I’m not mad about it

“How many of these dreams do you have?” that’s valid lmao Rin has #calledout for being a rival slut

“His face told me that what matters most to him is not here” I can’t tell if this is a reference to Ikuya or to Natsuya’s white-haired rival-friend-boyfriend-probably

You know what, in the context of this show: Boyfriend

“Hey, calm down. Listen, Archerfish--” HARU PLS

I don’t know Misae but the fact she calls her boyfriend Archerfish has already won me over

Hiyori would you fucking stop interfering this isn’t fair to Ikuya

“Ikuya’s too busy to waste his time reminiscing on childish things” well that should be Ikuya’s decision shouldn’t it like not 2 get 2 real but this is all the markers of an abusive relationship if someone does this to you please tell someone

God this stubbly weird man and his ominous advice STILL without any introduction

“I’m getting sick of hearing you speak for Ikuya like you’re his damn boss” ME TOO ASAHI

YOU CANNOT DECIDE WHO IKUYA’S FRIENDS ARE HIYORI YOU ABSOLUTE SHITPRETZEL

HA Ikuya knows you’ve been giving the boys the runaround fuckweasel

“If I swim with Tono, maybe it’ll help me understand him” Makoto coming after jerks with his best weapon: empathy <3

“People you swim with all seem to end up suffering, don’t they” LISTEN YOU ASSBANANA IT’S NOT HARU’S FAULT THAT PEOPLE GET OBSESSED WITH HIM HE’S JUST A GOOD SWIMMER

Omg I enjoy the drama of Sosuke interacting with the one (1) person in Japan who has seen Rin lately

“I have to admit, I’m a little disappointed there isn’t a single pudgy person here” like I know this is probably gonna be a running gag for their opposite body preferences but it’s also a self-burn for the creators of this show only drawing different scales of one body type

I really do love that Rei is swim team captain now my boy has come so far

Oh Romio is there anyone in this swim universe that doesn’t have some kind of Traumatizing Swim Experience

“Think about what your reason for jumping in is” Sosuke’s advice sounds like beautiful nonsense I don’t know how that’s supposed to help him concentrate on start times

Lmao I love this Overbearing Friend Gesture of Shizuru and Nagisa putting seaweed on Romio and Rei’s plates without asking kjhfkghfghfk

“Actually, if you don’t mind, we have a proposition” $500 says that Nagisa and Rei are about to propose a relay race

Update from 8 minutes later: Someone owes me $500

“Can you tell how proud I am?” Natsuya is such a good big brother <3

Hahahaha “a guy he wants to swim with again some day” Natsuya is also a good wingman for Rin lmao

Based on his inner monologue Sosuke should also be a swimming coach except in the vein of Cryptic Trench Coat Stubble Man who just offers random unsolicited advice to any teenage swimmer he passes by in the street

“I’m so proud of you” jgjhgjhg Shizuru I love you and your tears for Romio

What kind of child welfare laws are there in Japan that Hiyori’s parents were allowed to just leave him alone in the park

“When I saw [Haru] again, the weakness I thought I left behind came flooding back to me” the moral of this story is that competitive swimming makes you gay

Ikuya used to be fun and sweet lmao what made you so broody my dude

Lmao @ Hiyori being mad that Ikuya thinks of Haru as his Prince Eric instead of him

Wow I love Nao being a guiding force for this group of nerds

“I’m not hearting anything for you” Asahi understands Stranger Danger

It took Ryuji a solid six eps to even get a name u’d expect him to have a more important character connection than Rin’s Swim Coach’s Rival

“Then you should start swimming other stuff” I Love Misaki, Adopted Child of Haru and Makoto

Well this wistful playground vibe has taken a strange turn

“It’s none of your damn business okay!!” TONO JUST GOT DUMPED HA

KJGHKJGH THE RAGE IN HARU’S VOICE ABOUT THE MACKEREL

Ryuji: He can just buy me dinner or something. I’m not picky. As long as it’s not mackerel

Haru [through gritted teeth]: I’m ready when you are

AH I LOVE KISUMI AND ASAHI BABYSITTING TSUKUSHI

“After all we’ve been through, why does it have to be like this?” U MADE IT LIKE THIS HIYORI

HAHAHAHAH Makoto and Ryuji had a standoff of wills and Ryuji lost

“Maybe it’s time for you to approach things more seriously” Nao has declared it’s time to stop sowing your wild oats and settle down Natsuya

Kazuma only shows up to remind Sosuke he is free to run away to swim whenever

“Hope you’re well” “Hey relax I’m not your dad” [Natsuya immediately begins acting like their dad]

YEAHHHHHHHHHHHH GO HARU LEADING HIS CATEGORY

“I don’t think he’s all that bad of a guy” that’s Stockholm Syndrome Ikuya

I’m glad Ikuya is finally fucking having a meaningful conversation with his friends

“In the water I’m alone. No one’s gonna save me” Get therapy Ikuya!!!

Wow Haru joining a race purely to have an Emotional Confrontation with Ikuya is some kinda growth I’m just not sure what exactly

“That guy’s the only one anyone ever talks about” to be fair if your sample size is Iwatobi swimmers they are all a little in love with him

“That’s our BOYYYYYYYYYY” Aw Asahi <3

Ghjkghk I love Makoto teasing Haru for being Ikuya’s hero

“Oh, you’re wise now?” AWWWW Ikuya is fun again good for him

I know that Ikuya reaching out in friendship to Hiyori is supposed to be a sign of emotional security but I haven’t forgiven him for the way he’s manipulated Ikuya!!! Ur a seawitch not a Prince Eric!!! >:((((

I’m super thrown about them going straight from the qualifiers to the next race what will the last four episodes of this season be about

“I’ve been giving myself pep talks in the mirror. ‘I am a genius. I am a genius.’” HAHAHAHA I LIKE FUN IKUYA

“Looks like you beat me” “Just in free” Haru has released Ikuya into the universe for Hiyori and I don’t like it (for Ikuya’s sake) but that’s how it be I guess

How many siblings are there in the Mikoshiba family lmao there’s a new one every season

“But gender doesn’t mean anything in a competition” I like u Lady Mikoshiba

“You mean you were Russian this whole time??” this is a lot to digest

I LOVE RIN’S PUDGY CAT STEVE LOL IS IT THE SAME IN JAPANESE

“The water likes you. I can tell” ALBERT PLS, Haru is already FULL-UP on homoerotic swim relationships

It’s killing me that they keep cutting to Makoto like Haru’s cheating on him though

Not to undermine the subplot of these last three episodes but hasn’t Haru... lost races before hgkjhgk

“I thought something soft and cute would help balance out that scary face of yours” omg STOP this cuteness

Gghkhgk these flashbacks and Rin crying over Sosuke’s surgery are SO cute I never thought I would feel so proud of Rin way back in S1 he’s grown so much!!

Makoto being surrounded by ladybugs and butterflies like a wholeass Disney Prince

WHY are ALL of these swimming weirdos SOMEONE’S UNCLE

“You’re still as weird as ever, Haru’s the exact same way” I should start tracking how long in a conversation it takes characters to bring up Haru

Gnjghkjhg Makoto gets through to Haru in 0.5 seconds after two weeks of him ignoring his own coach. The power of fish metaphors and Love™

Kinda seems like they are setting it up like Makoto will also get to travel the world for swimming and let me say... I’m not mad about it

Update from like 2 minutes later: I WAS RIGHT

“That’s the evil king who wanted the magic lamp” the Arabian Nights references kill me every time

Djkhdkjhd Ryuji labelling Mikhail in his phone as “Muscle Freak” that’s tru friendship

“You should say, ‘I’m totes hip with the kids, yo’” Ryuji pls

“You’re so cute, you must be Iwatobi’s famous Kou” KHGKHGKJHKJ 3/3 MIKOSHIBA KNOCKOUT KOU

Awwwww Rei is so nervous for nationals my sweet baby boy

I ADORE that Rin and Haru are literally running across the city right before their most important meet bc they want to see their friends swim

Rrgjhgr the one and only backstory in this show is former childhood friends and it applies to every single character

OMG Rei get his own flashback but with his boy Nagisa I love it

“I think he’d make a good rival for you actually” Makoto Tachibana: Rival Matchmaker

GOOD JOB BOYS U DID GOOD (ALSO TEAM PHOTO I WEEP)

“Try not to cry when I beat you” SOSUKEEEEEEEEEE

Wow this final episode is already clutching at my heart right out of the gate baby Haru 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Makoto letting four more boys pile into his one bedroom for the night bc he’s the Best Boy Alive

HJGHJKGH THIS EXCHANGE

Mikhail: That’s what I call ‘totes hip with the kids’

Nearby youths: [Giggling]

Mikhail: [Soft indignant gasp] Ryuji!!

Natsuya and Ikuya have the cutest sibling relationship gjkghk THEY

The theme of this season is people hugging each other and crying over the lanes and I LOVE THAT 4 THEM

Rin and Haru and Makoto........... are good boys

“What is this, some kind of teen drama” that is exactly it, Rin

“He won’t stop talking about stupid crap like friendship and bonds” I love three (3) boys

Bonus: Out of Order Liveblog of Free! Take Your Marks + S3E0

Haru dropping his pants in Makoto’s apartment without the immediate context of them being near water was the most high stakes moment in this entire anime I had no idea where that was going

Haru leaving his apartment hunting until the day before he moves: Mood

Sidenote: Makoto and Haru going apartment hunting is domestic as HELL I love it

“The two of you are inseparable, huh?” “We’re friends, deal with it.” Let people be gay Kisumi

Lmao @ Nagisa and Rei’s yoga pose video Iwatobi is the cutest swim team in the world

“Then one day even those tears will dry out in the Tokyo desert” who hurt you, Ms. Amakata

“Allow me to welcome you to Tokyo, the city where love and lust intertwine” Free! Love and Lust could really be a subtitle of this anime lmao

“I’m talking about the whole bunkbed situation, you know, top and bottom” lmao shout-out to Sloane for that one art

I love the wordless communication between Makoto and Haru (and for that matter, Sosuke and Rin) I’m so glad they worked things out

I’m also happy Rin and Kou are cool now they used to have quite a gap

“Rin wasn’t that honest with himself” rjghg Rin and Haru miss each other

“This is the one,” said Haru, next to Makoto, His Completely Platonic Best Friend Who Dreams About Them Sharing An Apartment and Dropping Trou

I LOVE STEVE THE FAT CAT. AN ICON. A BEAUTY. CHUNKY BABY

“The treasure is inside the red shark’s mouth” there is DEFINITELY a Rin joke to be made here and the writers knew it

I don’t know what I love about this more that Aii and Momo are TERRIBLE at scheming or that that they are throwing Rin and Sosuke together on White Day lmao

This team vacation... Sosuke giggling bc he was tickled... !!!!!!! THANKS

I’m loving all these teams getting presents for each other jkhgkjg

Oh am I finally going to understand this Momo and Capybara backstory

Lol @ Natsuya pouring his heart abt Nao to Sosuke wholly unsolicited

“What were you about to ask” “Oh, not anything important (I’ll wait for you Sosuke)”

OHHHHHHHHHH THE CHARM BACKSTORY SOSUKEEEEEEEEEE

Oh Christ alive am I about to watch the Arabian Nights recruitment film

Hhhgjgjhg I gather the only reason Haru got his license was to compete with Rin

“I’m the evil king who is after the lamp for his own selfish reasons” I hate this... but also... I love this???

“I am a mysterious peddler. I travel carrying mysterious bundles. While riding atop of my mysterious partner Chappy the Camel” HARU STOP

OH MAKOTO HONEY U POOR SOUL JHGKHFKJGH

“Makoto. When I’m nervous I think about mackerel” I am going to expire

“I think the three of you should implement your own version of it” Fhjkhgk Haru is telling them to exploit their bodies for school recruitment but also that’s not really anything new so fair enough

Nagisa: Rei is Perfect Killer Muscles Handsome in my heart!!!!!!

“Maybe I’m never going to understand him” Omg @ The Jilted Middle School Exes of Haru Club

“How David had to give up his love.... And then Veronica, knowing they couldn’t see each other anymore” call me crazy but I think Rin is projecting his own issues onto A Rat’s Life LMAO

Tjehjkhkje Sosuke needing to call Rin bc he got lost on his way to the bathroom... Useless Husband Energy

HAHAH Rin is so upset thinking Momo and Kou are dating

At least Rin recognizes that he doesn’t get to decide who Kou dates he can only express his approval or disapproval

“Momotaru Mikoshiba is a man who lives by passion” gjhgjhg stop this

“Rin would never lose to a persimmon, ever!” MAKOTO R U OK

“You are not less than a persimmon!” THESE BOYS. U R SO DUMB BUT ALSO GET U A FRIEND LIKE THE IWATOBI SWIM CLUB

“It’s cool if you need to cry” “If you stay in the pool no one will ever notice your tears” I LOVE SOSUKE AND HARU TEAMING UP TO TEASE RIN

I also deeply appreciate that even though I’ve never heard their Japanese voices I know exactly who is saying what line in this outro just by dialogue and tone of voice

“I have a crippling fear of mascot costumes” “Then why did you take this job” kjhgkjhgkjh if that isn’t a work mood

Wait... if Makoto is going to be the substitute wrestler... WILL HARU BE THE SUBSTITUTE MASCOT AHHHHHHHH

WAIT NO I HAVE GRAVELY AND HILARIOUSLY MISUNDERSTOOD MAKOTO IS GOING TO BE BOTH MASCOT AND WRESTLER

“Iwa means ‘boulder’ and ‘tobi’ means ‘black kite’ so it’s a boulder-headed bird!!” Well that’s more of an explanation for the appearance of the Iwatobi mascot than I ever expected, Nagisa

“You don’t have a crippling fear of mascot costumes, do you?” No but I have feeling Makoto is about to develop one

Oh it’s THIS FUCKPUDDLE who asked u to be here Hiyori

“I don’t exactly hate it” high praise Ikuya lmao

Thkjhtkjh I love Natsuya’s long distance relationship it’s sweet

HAHAHA is the beak thing supposed to be a ploy so people see Makoto’s face

“I cannot let Haru see me like this” “Hi Makoto” HAHAHAHAH I LOVE THIS WHOLE INTERACTION AND ALSO HOW HARU JUST GOES ALONG WITH ALL OF IT

Also I don’t know how Makoto was planning to hide his identity after he was addressed as “Mr. Tachibana”

LMAO @ MAKOTO BEING RECOGNIZED BY HIS LEG MUSCLES I’M SCREAMING

“Hey Makoto, use a backstroke!!” HARU PLEASE

“Well done, you’ll be a great mascot someday” “Thanks? I think?” This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen and I loved it

Oh my goooood Haru bringing Makoto presents for his siblings.... they have ascended to the college relationship levels of Natsuya and Nao

Man Ikuya could not radiate stronger “leave me alone” vibes

“Wow you boys make a dashing pair” you said it Suit Lady not me

#ayesha talks anime #liveblogging #ayesha liveblogs free #long post

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