#she’s just mad I’m a fifth year. tho she was willing to work with me when she thought I was a fourth year med student

[humofnight]

always fun to have a new admin nemesis

[contrabbandiera-di-elia]

So here’s part one of my upcoming fic (which will probably take me months to finish looking at my current progress). Keep in mind that it’s more of a teaser. It’s unbeted and just a 1/5 of the actual fic, which I’m gonna publish on AO3 with the rest and the introduction. So far, please enjoy this little story straight from Radio Osvaldo, set somewhere around October, a few months before the first episode of Season 4. It’s Elia-centered and very one-sided, but I kind of like the idea of Elia helplessly crushing on Sana and being all awkward around her, so it was fun to write.

It was surprising how much Martino cared for the radio thing he was basically forced into in his fourth year. The boys were surprised after the first few months, but they decided it’s only because of the weed he was supposed to get back from Sana. But then months passed. The fourth year ended. The fifth started and they were sure that’s when Martino’s radio career will end. But it continued. Asked why exactly he’s doing it, he would just shrug saying that it’s not as bad as he thought. And he probably grew used to it. Of course, he would ditch it every now and then, mostly to meet Nico, but he was surprisingly devoted nevertheless.

And Elia had to admit that at some point he started to appreciate it. After all, Martino being part of a radio group meant his friends hanging out there every now and then. At first it was just to wait for him or Niccolo to finish their shift or fool around when they had too much free time. During the fifth year, they’d come there more often. Luca would use every and each occasion to see Silvia, so Elia and Gio would naturally accompany him. As good friends they were. Although every now and then Martino would joke that Elia goes there just to gaze at Sana. He didn’t really mean it, it was just a running joke after one or two times when he noticed Elia throwing glances at Sana more often than he should be. He didn’t realize how close to the truth he was and Elia decided not to tell him. He was just ducking his head with a half-hearted “fuck off, Marti”. But of course he was. This radio thing was the simplest and least suspicious way to be around Sana, even though most of the time they wouldn’t even talk to each other.

At some point Elia became mysteriously involved in the radio himself. He wasn’t an official member or anything, he was more of a substitute. It started when one time in the fourth year Martino was looking for someone to cover his shift when he was supposed to direct Silvia and Eva’s program, but no one from the radio would agree. He half asked half guilted Elia into it after a mess Elia had made in the radio room. Not the first and not the last one, but in his defense Elia had no idea that Osvaldo would be so inflammable. After this one time Elia was now and then dragged into replacing someone during the recordings, especially since with every and each time he knew the mechanics better and better, which worked as an argument against him. He was very reluctant at the beginning, but in the fifth year he would take every and each occasion to replace someone. Truth be told, he had no interest in school’s radio and it’s activities, hardly ever listened to it, but he knew it was impressive and looked good on him. And it was giving him more chances to talk to Sana, which was generally the whole point of it.

Sometimes he would be lucky enough to work on Sana and Martino’s recordings. But one time his luck went even beyond that. Martino basically begged him to substitute for him, because he was supposed to direct that day but something got in his way. Elia supposed this something was short, black-haired, and named Niccolo, but he didn’t say it out loud. He simply agreed. He was supposed to direct Eva and Silvia’s panel, which was probably something ridiculous like horoscope or autumn date ideas, which was always fun to do. Luchino always appreciated bits such as “Silvia said this and that” or “Silvia did this and that”.

What Elia didn’t expect was Sana sitting in the radio room, all alone, flipping through a textbook. He shifted uncomfortably before clearing his throat to bring Sana’s attention.

“I thought it’s Eva and Silvia’s shift.”

“Well, it is. I’m here to direct,” Sana explained as if it was natural. Elia frowned.

“Wasn’t Martino supposed to direct today?”

“He was, but something came up and he can’t. So I’m substituting for him.”

“So am I.”

Sana looked confused, but only for a moment. “Oh, okay. He could tell me he had found somebody else. I wouldn’t have to change my plans last minute.”

Elia nearly breathed out with relief. For a second he was sure that Martino did it for purpose. Lead him into this situation just to mess with him. He couldn’t be sure how much of Martino’s talking was just joking and how much was an honesty. He could as well realize that Elia was truly really into Sana. Elia wasn’t sure if it’d be for better or worse.

He hesitated for a minute, but then he took a seat next to Sana, putting his backpack on the floor next to the chair. Sana looked at him skeptically. He tried to shrug it off, but he knew it didn’t really come out naturally.

“You don’t need to stay here, you know?” She asked. He knew it. But he hasn’t had that many chances to spend time with Sana like this. Just the two of them, with no one around that would judge Elia for gazing for too long or making a fool of himself.

“Yeah, but… I’m already here, so I can as well stay. Help out and stuff.”

“Since when you’re so eager to help out other people?”

“Oh, come on. I’m a nice person. You just don’t know me well enough.”

“And it’s for the better.”

He smiled, shaking his head a little. He probably should be offended, maybe even hurt. After all, the girl he was head over heels in love with just told him that she doesn’t even want to know him better. But he wasn’t. That was the Sana he fell in love with. Witty, sarcastic, unyielding. It was a challenge to get closer to her and gain her sympathy. A challenge Elia was more than willing to take.

“Where are they? Silvia and Eva, I mean,” he spoke up after a beat of silence. This time Sana didn’t even look up from her book, shrugging.

“They should be here soon. They are usually on time, especially Silvia.”

The silence felt again, but this time it was due to Elia’s hesitation. He sighed, probably too loudly as Sana shot him an unimpressed glance. That was the chance he was waiting for. They were alone, they had time, he had no excuses to offer himself. He looked at Sana, gathering all the confidence he could possibly find in himself, and finally spoke up.

“Do you… have any plans for the weekend?”

Sana looked at him confused and clearly surprised with his question. Elia wasn’t sure if she saw the not-so-hidden implication in his question, but even if she did, she definitely tried to look as if she didn’t. He expected to see her shocked, amused, maybe even disgusted, but she seemed to be simply confused. As if she was waiting for him to continue. He was determined to let her figure it out herself, to let her realize what he really meant and respond to it.

Unfortunately, after not even a minute of awkward and stressful silence, all his gathered confidence disappeared, making him go in a completely different direction. Definitely closer to what Sana probably expected.

“I mean, you and the girls,” he explained, and finally some understanding appeared on Sana’s face. It was safer but made him feel disappointed with himself. “Nico wanted to do a movie night or something and Marti was saying something about asking you all. Did he?”

He knew it was pretty cheap and if Sana dwelled on it for a second, she would probably figure out that there was something wrong. She seemingly decided not to. Elia wasn’t sure if Sana had ever tried to dwell on anything he said.

“No, he didn’t. But I’m gonna ask the others, we’ll probably be there. Who’s choosing the movies tho?”

“Nico, probably.”

“Eh… in this case I may need some time to reconsider.”

He laughed and took the pleasure of observing a small smile on Sana’s face. He hoped they could continue like that, maybe they could talk about how weird Nico’s movie tastes were, maybe he would make a joke and maybe she would laugh, or maybe she would at least smile and it would be good enough for him. But they didn’t. Before Elia managed to open his mouth, Eva and Silvia burst into the room, apologizing for being late, even though they weren’t. It successfully shut him up.

But he still took it as a small victory. Maybe he didn’t manage to ask her out, but he did manage to create an occasion for spending some time with her. And her friends. And his friends. And he knew the boys will most probably be mad at him, because yes, they were thinking about movie night, but nobody said a word about asking the girls to join. But it was a small price to pay for her presence.

[shardminds]

I picture your hands on me.

“First, I want you to drive us somewhere nice and quiet." "Then I want you to come back here and fuck my brains out.”

Pairing: Emma Swan/Killian Jones Rating: E WC: 3.8K

Here’s some Captain Swan car sex for your troubles.

Also available on AO3

Emma Swan doesn’t get drunk. That’s what she tells herself, all the while giggling and stumbling from the toilet stall into the arms of an equally intoxicated and equally giddy Mary Margaret. In fairness, she hadn’t had the opportunity to get drunk in a while. Nights these days were, more often than not, filled with street patrols and paperwork. Being a cop had many perks but the night shifts were not one of them. 

She couldn’t wear this dress or these boots out on the job anyway. The black faux leather was tight, barely reaching her mid-thigh and the stiletto boots cut off just above the knee. Definitely not regulation uniform. 

Perps would most likely hand themselves over to her if she did wear this on patrol, though. That’s one way to boost her numbers.

When David had initially asked if she wanted to take his wife out for a drink, she thought he’d been joking… evidently not. He had to buckle down on one of his larger cases and it just happened to line up with Emma’s night off. He’d offered to pay her back in bear claws from Granny’s when they were next on duty together and that had sold her. Calories don’t count if someone else buys them for you, right? David had, however, forgotten to mention his wife’s wild side that rears it’s boisterous head whenever liquor is involved. 

Tequila is her drink of choice. No chaser. No salt and lime. Just straight up tequila. Emma hadn’t even downed her second by the time the petite brunette was polishing off her fifth with a belch that would’ve had Leeroy blushing. It all went downhill from there. 

Mary Margaret yanks her out of the restroom, getting a little handsy in the process, and drags them to the less crowded hallway. Emma didn’t even get the chance to wash her hands. She’s chattering on about something or other but Emma can’t focus. Her skin is softly buzzing, the whole world around her a pleasant hum.

Emma Swan doesn’t get drunk, but when she does, it feels fantastic.

Did she have hand sanitizer in her clutch? It seems like a pretty important thing that everyone should carry in case of emergency, right? Especially on those days when your partner’s wife drags you away from the restroom before you’ve been able to take care of your own personal hygiene. It’s not like she’d peed all over her hands or anything. It’s just better to be safe than sorry. A quick rifle through her purse proved fruitless but at least it helped her regain focus… right at the end of her friend’s story. If they weren’t friends before tonight, they definitely were now.

“-and that’s how David got the scar but if you tell him I told you he’ll be so mad, Emma! Soooo so mad!” 

“About what?” It escapes before she can stop it and Mary Margaret just laughs at her. 

“Exactly!” She squeals, wiping away tears of laughter Emma hadn’t noticed before throwing an arm around her friend’s waist and leaning into her side, guiding them to the bar. “You know nothing, Jon Snow.”

The bartender didn’t even ask what they were having. Simply winking in their direction before setting down two shots and a couple of fingers of rum. Mary Margaret pays with a flourish of David’s credit card, index finger pressed to her lips in a shhh gesture. 

Before she can even think of all the ways David is going to kill her, Emma’s phone chimes. She tries to fight back the smile that comes along with Killian’s name flashing up on her screen, but she lost that battle long ago. They’ve been dating for over a year and he still manages to make her heart involuntarily flutter with every text. No one else makes her heart soften as he does. It had taken time, patience and a whole lot of nudging from David and Ruby for them to even get together in the first place and yet, Emma, with her seemingly endless walls, and Killian, with a metric shitload of his own baggage, managed to make it work. 

She loves him. Wholly. It had taken her forever to admit it but, between his soft kisses and even gentler touches, she’d whispered it against his skin. More a sigh than a declaration, but a promise nonetheless. 

Killian: running late, my love

Killian: nodded off marking… again 

Killian: be there in 5, does MM need a lift? 

He’s so good to her. To all of them. He’d agreed to pick her up at midnight, making a joke about pumpkins as he’d kissed her goodbye earlier. It’s almost half-past now but she can’t bring herself to be mad. She loves him. Like really, really loves him. It’s scary and exciting and if it had been anyone else she’d have run away by now but it’s him and that makes it all okay. All the tension she didn’t know she was holding evaporates away upon reading his texts. She throws back her drink in one gulp and starts typing.

Emma: i love u.  i will ass

Emma: ask

Emma: fuck

Emma: love u

Killian: haha had one too many, swan?

Killian: i’ll bring you some water x

She didn’t always understand the x’s he sometimes added to the end of his texts. He’d explained it to her once but the patterns his fingers had been tracing across the soft skin of her belly had been a far more pressing focus at the time. 

“It’s meant to be a kiss, love. It’s a common courtesy back home.” He’d said, placing a kiss of his own to the furrow in her brow. The furrow only deepened, which made him smile.

“But… why?” She snuggled closer to his chest, the coarse hair there ticking at her bare skin. Post-coital conversations about British text etiquette were just one of the many reasons she’d agreed to move in with him.

Regardless of her level of understanding, the addition brings a warm flush to her cheeks.

Mary Margaret is still at the bar, no longer drinking (thank god) but, if the way her index finger is pressed menacingly against the chest of a man almost twice her size is anything to go by, Emma’s willing to bet she was about to get herself in even more trouble. 

Behind her, there’s a familiar exasperated sigh. 

“I think it’s quittin’ time for us, Ems.” David yawned, patting her shoulder as he did. He was still in his uniform which must have scared the shit out of the bouncers on his way in. She didn’t mean to laugh but the thought had her chuckling. His case mustn’t have gone very well. His smile is soft and small, not blinding like it usually is. She’s about to ask him about it when a scream rips out ahead of them.

“DAVID!”

The thump as Mary Margaret collides with her husband’s chest knocks the air straight out of him in a dull oof. Without thinking, Emma snaps a picture and hits send.

Emma: mm has a ride

Emma: i’ll take one if u r offering tho ;)

They’re both still laughing, breathless, in each other’s arms before Emma gets pulled into the mix. David thanks her for keeping an eye on his wife with a strong hug while Mary Margaret attaches to her side like a barnacle and thanks her with slurred speech for celebrating her promotion together.

Emma hadn’t even known they’d been celebrating. That’s tequila for you.

“I better get this one home. Thanks again, Ems.”  David smiles her way before looking down to his tiny and drunken spouse who had the widest grin she’d ever seen, pure adoration in her eyes. She happily grips the hand David offers her, still beaming as they walk.

Emma knows that look. She’s had that look before. 

Love drunk (and maybe a bit of real drunk).

“I’ll follow you out.” She adds, falling into step with their rhythm. “My ride will be here soon anyway.”

“I love Killian, Emma. He’s so sweet! And he bakes! David doesn’t bake.” The outburst is followed by a hiccup and a giggle and a scoff from her husband. 

“Gee, why don’t you marry him then?” There’s no malice in David’s comment at all, how could there be? These two have been together since the dawn of time, by Storybrooke standards, at least. Mary Margaret barks out a laugh, using the arm that isn’t intertwined with David’s to punch him softly in the ribs.

“I married you, Stupid. You can’t marry two people. You’re dumb.” 

The rest of the walk to the exit is in relative silence, only the occasional chirp from their drunkest disciple on the way down the stairs of The Rabbit Hole. The crisp autumn air that meets them outside knocks Emma back a little, she hadn’t expected it to be so cold and, in a lapse of better judgement, had not brought a jacket. It doesn’t matter though. She’d already seen the familiar black jeep before her phone buzzed in her hand.

Killian: i see you x

Bidding goodbye to her two companions, Emma finds herself skipping over to Killian’s truck. She can’t help herself. The thought of him sat there waiting for her in all his black leather jacket-y goodness spurs her forward. Maybe she can convince him out of it… maybe– Fuck. She’s drunk but she wants him. Needs him.

Climbing into the jeep and immediately going in for the kill, in hindsight, probably wasn’t one of her finest ideas. Especially considering the accidental punch to the boob it earnt her. The bottle of water he’d promised, falling to the centre console between them. Clearly he’d not anticipated the haste of her advance. 

It’s a good job he’s cute.

“I’m sorry, love!” He laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners and lips pulling into a toothy smile. “I didn’t expect you to come at me with such unbridled force.” 

“Hello to you too.” Grumbling, she tries to massage some of the pain in her chest away but the ache is already there. Not the ache she wanted either. Killian’s hand finds her jaw and, despite her initial attempt at stubborn reluctance, his fingertips have her melting into his kiss. He’s overly gentle, just a chaste press of his lips against hers in apology. 

“I’ll kiss it better once we’re home, Swan. Don’t you worry about that.”

Feeling them against her lips, his words light a fire deep in her. The slow burn she’s been tending since she left their apartment earlier now seems an all-consuming need. She kisses him again, harder and deeper, a calculated move on her part, knowing he’ll take the bait and follow suit. 

The growl it pulls from him is borderline feral and Emma can feel it shoot straight to her core. Fuck, he’s such a good kisser. Every slant of his mouth over hers, every slip of his tongue, has her breathless and needy, wanting to only ever be further consumed. He always knows exactly how she needs it with very little prompting, reading her body language better than she herself could, sliding his free hand up her bare thigh until it slipped beneath the hem of her dress.

She can’t wait, she wants him now. 

“Fuck going home.” She sighs, letting him pull away only slightly so they can lean their foreheads together, his hand still continuing its path beneath her skirt. 

“What do you mean, love?” He knows exactly what she means. He always does. The smirk in his voice coats his words like syrup, sickly sweet and so wonderful. 

Pushing him away is torture, but worth it to hear his reaction as Emma crawls into the backseat. Arse in the air as she squeezes between the front seats and into the back. The firm smack to her behind has her fumbling through the gap, catching her moan as she tries to get her bearings. She’s not ashamed of it. It’s well-known that she loves a good spanking. Red palm prints all over her ass and thighs the next day are the best kind of trophies. Ones she’s proud to wear for him and him only. She’s not even ashamed at how almost uncomfortably wet she is just from thinking about it, thinking about him thick and heavy inside her, encouragement coming in the form of firm slaps.

If he wants a tease, she’ll give him a tease.

Turning to face him, she slips into the middle seat. Shimmying her dark panties she’d chosen earlier that evening down her legs with minimal effort. Killian’s eyes follow the path they take and, when they come to settle at her ankles, she offers him the scrap of fabric with the heel of her boot.

He groans when his fingers come to contact with damp lace, the faint squish as he rolls the fabric between his thumb and index finger is almost too much. The way he reaches for her is pure instinct, she can tell how her actions are affecting him by the way his eyes are half-lidded and all traces of smiles and smirks from earlier are gone. She presses her boot to his shoulder, forcing him to keep his distance and trusting him to do so before removing it. The sharp point of her stiletto catches on his collarbone on its descent, causing him to hiss. 

“First, I want you to drive us somewhere nice and quiet.” Settling down further, her legs part, faux leather peeling back from her thighs as they do, until it’s plainly visible how much she wants this. Her unfathomable confidence is definitely dutch in its origin but she can’t help herself, warm flames of arousal threatening to take over. It’s delicious and agony all at once. “Then I want you to come back here and fuck my brains out.”

Seeing his eyes slip closed at her words sends a heady wave of something straight through her. Car Sex: 1, Killian: 0

“As you wish, Swan.” His voice is deep and raspy, so very clearly fucked and Emma loves it. She loves him. Every part of him. From the way his hair always looks like he’s just woken up, no matter what time of day it is or the way his shoulders tense as he turns away from her now to focus on the road ahead, pulling off from the street with white knuckles clutching the steering wheel. Most of all, she loves knowing that he’ll give her what she wants, over and over again, rough and hard.

To everyone else, Killian is well mannered and reserved. The mix of ex-naval captain, local history teacher and baked goods connoisseur tending to subconsciously command the respect of those in his presence. 

To Emma, he is so much more. He’s soft in ways she’d never had a partner to be before, so open and forthcoming with his adoration of her while still allowing her space to grow into the person she’s always wanted to be. He’s sarcastic to a fault but, then again, so is she. He’s so unapologetically passionate about the things he loves, which usually results in them binging TV shows together until the early hours of the morning on a school night and falling asleep tangled together on the couch.  

He’s everything she never knew she needed and he’s changed her for good.

Oh, and he’s also an incredibly good shag. His word, not hers. When he says it, it sounds filthy, whispered against her body in a way that brings her out in goosebumps every time. When she says it, it sounds… not like that. 

She can’t wait much longer, heat throbbing between her legs at the thought of him. She hadn’t even realised until the slow drag of her fingers through slick folds and across her clit caused a moan to erupt from her throat, that she’d been touching herself this whole time. 

Glancing up to the rearview mirror, she caught lust darkened eyes staring back.

Fuck.

Without thinking, she brings the fingers to her mouth. Salt and lust thick on her tongue. It’s a sharp sweet taste and Killian always waxes poetic about it; telling her how damn edible her cunt is, how he loves the taste she leaves on his tongue, how he loves making her taste herself from his lips. He’s always been able to make her fall to pieces. 

Daring to maintain eye contact, she sucks them between her lips.

He fucking moans at that. Deep. Guttural. Emma can feel it in her chest and, before she can even comprehend what’s going on, he pulls the jeep up to a halt. They’re parked somewhere she doesn’t recognise, tucked between two buildings shrouded in the dark, and she has no time to worry about anything else because Killian is out of the driver’s seat and crawling into the back through the passenger door. 

He had been wearing his leather jacket before and she absentmindedly wonders where it’s gone before her brain short circuits with the smash of his lips against hers. It’s wild and rushed and the weight of him crushing her into the seat below has whines slipping out between their kisses.

“That was dangerous.” He purrs, moving his mouth across her cheek, down to her jaw, her neck. Nipping where his teeth graze and sucking soft marks into her flesh. Looks like it’s high necked sweaters for the rest of the week. “What did I do to earn that delicious torture?”

Emma hums at his ministrations, warm buzz settling through her at his touch. Better, more electric than the subtle tingle of intoxication from earlier. This woke up every nerve in her body, slowly, bringing them alive and with wisps of an earth-shattering orgasm building deep down already. “The tit punch wasn’t totally appreciated if we’re being candid.”

“Candid’s not the word, love.” His lips leave her neck, leaning up to view his masterpiece and very clearly satisfied with the mess he’s made and his smirk pushes her over the edge. She reaches for his hips, fumbling around for the zipper on his jeans. He joins in, working together to free the erection she’d been hoping for. Killian was never one to disappoint her in that department. “This is downright indecent.”

“Just shut up and fuck me.” 

She throws one booted leg around his hip pulls him closer until he nudges against her centre. 

There’s no preamble. No disclaimer. Sex for them is like coming home, a practised rhythm they’ve had down for what seems like aeons. As if they’d been destined for each other before they ever met. It’s perfect. Always is. He’s as thick and full as she’d been hoping, stretching her in the most delectable way and it drives her mad when he drags out slowly, angling himself in a way that has the head of his cock catching on that rough spot he usually finds only with his fingers. Clawing at his biceps as he fucks torturously slowly into her seems like the only option at this point. 

“Killia– fuck! Harder.” Is the only thing she can say. All other thoughts being variations of Fuck, Yes and Please.

He burrows his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent and she can feel the smirk on his lips searing into her skin. The whimper has barely left her lips before it’s cut off with a moan as he hammers into her. While one hand holds himself up, the other shoves her dress up higher around her waist before snaking down across her stomach, through the smattering of hair at the apex of her thighs and further, finally coming to a halt just shy of her clit. 

She’s grateful Killian had been able to find somewhere secluded for them to undertake their activity because, had they been in the centre of Storybrooke, people in a three-block radius would definitely have been able to hear the scream that rips out of her with his touch, back arching off the seat as he teases her clit with his fingers.

“First, you’re going to come.” His voice is way calmer than it should be. Deep and ragged but calm all the same. Emma doubts she could even string a sentence together with the barrage of pleasure he’s putting her through. Not that she’s complaining. The look on his face as she flutters around him more than makes up for the fact that he’s still got full use of his speech, even if he is using it to spew filth. “Then, I want to fill you up– fuck, I’ve been thinking about this dress all night, Emma. Do you know what you do to me?”

How can she even respond to that? He continues to fuck her deeper, laving kisses across her collar bones. Adjusting the angle, the pressure, the speed to keep her always on her toes. Bringing her almost to the edge and then dragging her back. She wants to be mad about it but she can’t bring herself to feel anything other than pleasure coiling low in her belly. Killian knows her too well. He knows what she likes, how she wants to be fucked and how to take care of her after. He knows she hates being teased but he also knows that she comes so much harder when she’s had to work for it. 

As she said, he knows her too well.

“I’m close.” She sobs, arms thrown around his neck. Her call spurs him on, fucking into her faster and deeper while he strokes relentlessly at her clit with his thumb. It’s only a few seconds before a tsunami of an orgasm washes over her in full force, wave after wave of pleasure settling over as she’s fucked through it. Gentler now than before. She can’t hear anything over the rush of blood in her ears but she doesn’t miss the telltale grunts of her name as Killian follows shortly after with a few staccato pumps of his hips. True to his word, he comes deep inside her. The feeling of being so full warming her from the inside out. 

He collapses against her chest with a huff and she laughs, not able to resist running her hands through his hair. She loves him. From his grunty sex noises to the way he can’t seem to hold himself up once he’s spent. She loves all of him.

“Brainless yet, love?” He mumbles against his gifts from earlier. There’s a dull throb as he kisses one of the hickeys and Emma hums, wrapping him in her embrace. She doesn’t want to move, despite how awkwardly they’re tangled together and Killian growing soft inside her. If David catches them on his patrol in the morning, they’re screwed. Well, she is. He’d hold that over her for eternity. 

Pulling him tighter, she sighs. 

“Completely.” 

She’d have to ask Mary Margaret about that scar story again, for blackmail purposes.

[leejrdans]

       you can try to conceal your heart with red and gold titanium,        but you can never truly hide from your demons.

Merlin’s beard, what is ( LEE JORDAN ) doing out at this hour? For a ( HALF BLOOD ) who is ( 19 ) years old, ( HE ) really ought to know better. You know, I hear that they’re aligned with ( THE ORDER ), but that could be just a rumor. I do know that ( HE ) is ( A CIS MAN ) and a ( GRYFFINDOR ) alumni though. They’re very ( FORTHRIGHT ) and ( CAPTIVATING ) but also quite ( IRREVERENT ) and ( BIASED ), which could be why they remind of ( LAUGHING TO FEEL ALIVE AND SPEAKING UP TO STAY ALIVE, A RESTLESS FEELING IN THE PIT OF YOUR STOMACH THAT ALWAYS DEMANDS MORE MORE MORE, HONESTY AS YOUR NATIVE TONGUE ). Some people say they’re the spitting image of ( TREVOR JACKSON ), but I’ve never heard of them. 

LINKS: pinboard. stats page. wanted plots is COMING.

CHARACTER PARALLELS: will be added one day when my brain does work

HEY GUYS, it’s mar again. lee is a new muse. as in NEW. completely fresh. i am Nervous! but i love 1 man!!!  note: lee is quite a Social Man, so i kind of went ahead and assumed some stuff about his position at hogwarts ( like, popularity & how the slytherins receive his biased commentary ) but i’m not trying to generalise at all and say that THIS IS HOW YOUR CHARACTER SHOULD FEEL bc i hate that LMAO take it all w a grain of salt its just how i?? ig imagine things went but if they went differently that is Okie

history.

lee is born in st mungo’s, to a halfblood mother & a muggleborn father. they’re not married. hell, they’re barely in love, but she still squeezes his hand during it all, and he cries, and for a moment they think that - maybe - they can be happy. ( someone should have told them that a child is never the solution, that it doesn’t work like that. )

lee’s mother moved into his father’s place -- a tiny flat, in peckham, but it was bigger than her own place -- and brought only two suitcases and a backpack ( warning sign one ). they tried, hard, for a while. lee’s father worked and his mother was at home, most of the time, looking after her son and making empty wine bottles appear ( warning sign two ) and then staying away during weekend nights ( warning sign three ). 

she leaves for the first time when lee is nearly one, taking one of her suitcases and her backpack and slipping away in the death of night. lee’s father is lost -- for a while, but finds help in neighbours and sisters and his mother, mainly. and that’s how it went for years --- his mother coming back, and leaving, and coming back, until she didn’t come back again, not really. lee’s dad said it was enough, one day, and lee’s mother retreated to her own place. his father tried to get full custody and got it, eventually and then there was his mother, not cut from his life completely, but only semi-there, appearing when she could and - most importantly - wanted to.

he doesn’t really get it, in all honesty, as he’s five when his father tells her mother she can’t live with them any more, and most of his life after that is him and his dad and his aunts and his grandmother. plenty of family --- plenty of reasons to be happy, but an inexplicable gap, still.

lee grows up in peckham, london, and attends muggle elementary there. he goes to diagon alley on afternoons after school and weekends, with his dad, and later alone. he likes gazing at brooms ( wistfully ) and hanging out with fellow wizarding kids and magic, magic, magic. there’s magic at home too, of course, but his grandmother and aunts are all muggles, so there’s not much, but in diagon alley there’s so much of it. he likes the muggle world, sure ( especially video games & music ), but it’s nothing compared to the wizarding world.

i mean --- it’s not like he’s bored, because everything is excitable for young lee, and there’s fun to be found in everything, but there’s just more in the wizarding world - more mystery and excitement and ways to wreak havoc. because that he does love --- pranks, innocent and less innocent, hijinks and shenanigans. getting on his teachers nerves with bad jokes and cursewords. 

lee doesn’t grow up with a lot of the things that some might consider crucial -- financial stability, a stable family life, a nice neighborhood. but it’s good and it’s whole in its own way. there’s plenty of people lee loves and plenty who love him back and it’s good, and when he’s off to hogwarts he’s both mad excited and secretly a bit scared and sad to leave his fam behind.

hogwarts, though, is a BLAST. lee is sorted in gryffindor ( because where else? ) and finds friends, fast. in his own house, outside of it, in his teachers, kind of ( he personally is convinced that minerva mcgonagall adores him, despite her disapproving glares ). he’s okay at his classes -- he has the skills, sure, but not the concentration and focus -- and better at everything else. 

lee starts commentating on quidditch matches after he doesn’t make the team. he’s not broken up about it, in all honesty --- he sees how hard the team has to work and laughs at his mates who have to sweat while he gets to sleep in. commentating is more fun, anyway. it gains him some popularity, some enemies in slytherin, maybe, because he’s not very unbiased in his commentary. he loves his time at hogwarts, in all honesty, even more when he gets that gig.

his father meets his current girlfriend when lee is in his fifth year. they marry in the summer after his sixth year and have their daughter -- zoe -- about a year later. lee loves them. he’s conflicted at first, but he’s happy for his dad, and his baby sister is CUTE AF.

lee jordan is a rebel. in tiny, fun-loving ways ( pulling pranks, cracking jokes, being a bit of a class clown ), but also in a political, angry way. it doesn’t show in his earlier years, but as the war starts, and he grows older, too, he finds his priorities shifting. lee knows injustice. he’s dealt with prejudice his entire life --- at muggle school, at hogwarts, even. and as prejudice and bigotry gains the upper hand in the wizarding world, he grows angrier. restless. 

the DA is a way to rebel more effectively, he supposes. protesting when he’s not in school. cracking open history books when he’s supposed to be practising for his NEWTs ( and he is not taking history ). lee looks at the world and he’s angry, he’s restless, he wants to do something but he does not know what---- because where do you start when so much is wrong?

right now.

lee has graduated hogwarts ( believe me when i say that those last months without fred & george were fucking boring, but he at least got to focus a bit more on his NEWTs ) by now and he’s floundering around. i like to think that he’s working for/with the twins, helping with inventing stuff and marketing kind of things for the www, but if this doesnt mesh with any potential fred/george players, i can 100% alter this skjsdf. 

he wants to do something more, though. tell stories. speak up. journalism has always pulled at him --- not written, but on the telly or radio. he likes music too, of course, and the truth, especially --- and an idea is starting up in his mind. he’s slowly working towards setting up an underground radio, gathering equipment and figuring out ways to organise it. potterwatch is coming, and once the ministry is taken over ( if -- of course, that’s where this rp’s plot takes us ) it will be there, the urgency bigger. i don’t know exactly --- i’ll probably discuss this w sarah too but i think right now potterwatch is just an untitled work in progress.

lee’s not an official order member, but i do think he’s alligned, in one way or another. he’s willing to do what’s right, keeps his DA coin on him because of it, but also tries to take the world with a grain of salt, still. laughter is what makes him feel alive, and everything else he does to stay alive, to still make this world a livable place. 

rebel boi.

personality & tidbits.

lee is a dank meme lordt who would be an icon on social media, if we had it. he just likes dumb ass humour. a bit of a class clown --- he just likes attention, but he also likes making people laugh and having a good. fucking. time.

lee is hilarious and it’s the truth.

he rly loves his fam!! is worried abt them!! he still lives at home its  a blast but he wants to move out tbakjdsf. 

his mother doesnt rly ... idk he does think of her as his mother but not rly as part of his family, bc family is not blood anyway. he’s had a few good talks w her since he’s grown older tho but it’s a sore, complicated spot.

lee loves music a Lot. hip hop, trip hop, some punk here and there ... bonus points if it’s a political bop!!

has the mouth of a sailor and now that he’s out of school he doesnt even try to fight it. no mcgonagall around to tell him off after all!!!

enjoys smoking pot & drinking beers w his buds. just -- letting go, having a laff and relaxing to the fullest. likes watching muggle tv when high especially, such a hobby!!!

idk!!!!!!!!!!!! will add more mayhaps???

[mysticmysterywrites-blog]

Prompt #5

My characters are stupid and in love and just about to get out of highschool and see the world, and your character recently had a rumor go around saying that they slept with one of them while drunk at a party

Maybe they are approaching them about the rumor? Maybe someone wanted to break them up with their current partner, and my character was an easy target? Maybe they break down in front of the two of them because of it, and get a nice long "it's just a rumor, why are you letting it get to you," comfort talk from them. Hell, maybe they were the one that started the rumor bc they want to sleep with one of them, but THAT didn't go as planned. Lots of possibilities.

Or maybe it isn't even bc of the rumor. Maybe they heard about their plan to leave and they want in. Tbh, I like the idea of them ending up last minute joining them on the trip regardless. There two are undeniably heavy go with the flow types, and if a cute person that also has nothing to loose wants to come with them on a stupid road trip who are they to say no? At the very least, I'd like them to drag your character off to ditch the rest of the school day with them, giving your character a day off from whatever they're going through, and then to go from there.

Also, there IS mentions of sex, but in the "we're high schoolers experimenting with our sexuality," kind of way. And I AM willing to let this get nsfw, but I'd like build up, Cha know?

Double also, you don't have to match length, but please at least give me enough to work with? Like this is REALLY long, it got way out of hand. But I'm not picky about reply length, I just try and match my partners.

Finally, a quick description of my characters. Eden is about 18, with long black hair she normally either throws into a braid or a bun, toned skin with freckles on her face, painted nails and green eyes. She's about 5'11. She can be a bit harsh to people she doesn't like, kind of uncaring. Not in a malicious sort of way, in the "I don't think this person matters in my life" kind of way. She has a belly button piercing, and a few in her ears. Nipples pierced as well.

The other one is Masao. He's 19 at the start of this. Same height as Eden, with brown eyes and dark skin. Hair in dreadlocks, where some of the dreads are bleached blonde to replicate highlights. Piercings in his ears, a tattoo or thorns and roses that goes around his upper arm and chest. Scarring on his lower right chin and upper shoulder and chest, tho that area is covered by said tattoo.

(Some wise man once said that people were cruel.)

He'd been 17 when he met her. She was a year or so younger then him, but the same kind of younger that everyone else in class was. He'd been held back once upon a time, at some point in elementary school that was too far beyond recollection in actual memory. He had a belief his parents just forgot to enroll him into school until a year after he was suppose to. Maybe faced some governmental push back or something.

It wasn't like they'd been the fastest of friends. For a while, they just knew each other by name and nothing more. It wasn't like he had that many friends to begin with. He wasn't oblivious to that fact. He was, a loner at heart. Friends were tiring, and he had more then enough to deal with the stress that came with it. But it wasn't like he was particularly bullied or picked on. He was background noise at best, nonexistent in the minds of his classmates at worst.

She was tall, height only increased by the fact that she sported heels on a bi-daily basis. Her gaze was sharp and critical, holding knives to others as she analyzed and took sight of them. However she was, also undeniably, quite pretty, and her laugh was like bells in his eyes. He admired her, in a way. She spoke her mind, loud and clear. Managed to have a nice group of people she spent enough time with. They got thrown into a group together for an end of the year project their junior year. That's when they really began speaking.

("I don't like them," She admitted, the first time they actually got really personal with one another. Perhaps about the forth or fifth time they'd slept together? At the very least, it was around the time awkward, clunky touches that had once only been there to experiement were now, becoming careful and sweet, purposefully lingering far more then they were the first few times, "I mean, not to sound like the edgiest fool around, but most of the people aren't really my friends, persay. I just kinda.. tolerate them. They're the kind of people that are going to be like 'lets stay in contact after highschool! Talk to you lots!' only to turn around and forget you exist. I don't mind it. It's just how it is, I guess,"

Yeah. He couldn't help but agree with the sediment. She'd continue on to talk about physically bearing but emotionally distant parents, and he'd return with talk of uncaring and neglect. It was the first time either of them had told anyone about it, and it was. Nice. Not good, not bad, but nice.)

It only took a few meetings for them to sleep together.

She told him to come over her house for the project. And, well. He was always looking for an excuse to leave home. They'd managed to get most of what they needed to done for it within the first night, and it was well into the night before the two of them began really talking.

("Your cute," she'd tell him, a little before the first time they fucked, "like, real cute. You have a nice face to you, I think. Ya just don't do anything with it," she'd pause, giving her makeup bag a look, "most men don't, but. Ya know."

He'd just shrug, his hands on pieces of paper that they'd reviewed so many times over that there really was no point in doing so anymore, "I wouldn't mind the idea of it.  Might, uh. Be nice to clear up some of the scarring? I just don't know how."

Her eyes glinted with intrigue, and she zipped open the makeup bag without another thought. They slept together that night, uncertain touches just being pleasurable enough to get rid of the awkward air that came with it. She.. undeniably knew more them him. But maybe that was to be expected.)

"It's not healthy," he pointed out, when he noticed the way she started drawing in from her old group of friends and coming to linger by him more and more.

"What? Pulling back from a group of people I didn't like talking to anyway, and would have ended up going the rest of my life ignoring? Please," She'd rolled her eyes, reaching over to snag one of his chips from him. The librarian shot them a dirty look, but ultimately continued to let them eat their lunch in here, "Now, when were the days you're free at the beginning of school break? I just got my license and I want to go up to the lake," she'd take his DS out of his hand as she spoke and go through his team for the 5th time that day, but it was okay because he'd do the same in return.

("Won't they be mad?" He asked, the first night they'd spent up at the lake together. He'd spent most of it with his head tucked under her chin, the two of them finding solice in slowly growing familiar touches, "your parents, I mean."

She'd shrugged, "they aren't home this weekend. Some big important business meeting in Vegas. Bet they're just going to go there and drink and gamble though, ya know?" She'd rub her eyes, and look up out of the sunroof of her car, watching the stars that were scattered across the sky, "hey, move off me for a moment. I brought my DS and some snacks. Tell me, do you think I should keep Mawile or Sableye on my team?")

They grew closer and closer that summer. She enlisted his help in making videos for the internet, small silly vlogs that talked about anything and everything. But her personality was electric, and enticing, and he wasn't surprised when she got just a base following. She hug out with her old friends just enough to keep them in her mind, but not enough that she would actually miss them once she'd left. Or so she'd said. They went to the occasional party, he snuck in through the window by climbing an old oak at night.

It was stupid, and to a small degree vanilla. Stereotypical, to every other degree. He enjoyed every moment of it.

("Have you ever thought about leaving?" She'd ask him, only a few days before their senior year started.

He looked thoughtful, carefully above him.

"Yeah. I've been working since I was 16, to do exactly that," he finally told her, after just long enough had passed that she was beginning to squirm and stare, "Never actually thought I'd do it but. I might start considering it again."

Her eyes would twinkle, and she slowly rose up, "ever thought about seeing the world?")

There was a rumor that rooted itself down only three or so weeks before school ended. Something about him sleeping with someone who's name he knew of but face he wouldn't be able to recall. It was something he didn't pay much mind, or care too much about. There weren't many things that got his attention, after all.

Direct eye contact was one of those things. People didn't NOTICE him. He was normally background noise, the brown haired npc in the back of a shitty card anime. The one that didn't have focus on him. But things were... Something was off. He could tell by the way he was catching people's eyes, and the fact that it would linger. It made him want to find Eden, and press himself tight up under her arm her so he could pretend they were looking at her instead of him. That was a little more common, felt a little more natural.

"Hey, didn't you hear?" They spoke quietly, like having seen him reminded them of something that they'd heard recently. He tried not to perk too much. Not particularly with joy, but rather to attention. The two grew too quiet for him to hear, but when he did...

"THAT'S who they fucked?" He didn't have to look to know they were, at least, raising their eyebrow at him. His interests perked, if only for a moment. It wasn't like he was going around sleeping with the crowd. He was, at least for the moment, perfect content with just his current partner.

"Yeah. Odd guy that's almost never apart from Eden? That's him."

A laugh, "Yeah, nice choice there," before going about their marry way. Something about first times, wondering ifs. He didn't pay it much attention. Took note of it, but also just. Watched, for a while. Took note that more and more people were beginning to talk about it. It was just enough to catch his interest, just enough to keep it on his mind.

But. For a while, he was content with just ignoring it. It, really wasn't his issue. People very obviously didn't like him already, so this had to be more of an attack on them then it was him. And while he didn't appreciate being used as someones scrape-goat, but it wasn't his issue

(She had a van miraculously paid off by parents who modestly kept more money then they'd ever be able to spend (and the desire to buy the love they never bothered showing), and had a face familiar enough to the internet that would get someone a comfortable amount of extra cash would they be living a normal life style, but not familiar enough that should that theoretical person have that theoretical life style, be able to live off that sum of money from month to month. He had savings from about 4 years of work and planning, and the same will as hers to get away from the type of familiarity that brought discomfort and disgust. And damn if they weren't going to put their combined resources to good use.)

He did, however, bring it up exactly once to Eden. It was on one of those nights where he'd spent the night away from parents who'd sparsely cared about his whereabouts, tucked away in the dark behind locked doors in the house of a girl who's parents cared too much of her whereabouts. The familiarity and comfort soothed the anxiety and dread that haunted his dreams, and the rain pounded against all too clean windows

"What do you think?" He'd ask, rolling up onto her waist. His motions weren't smooth, and between them being about the same size it took a moment to steady. But her hand rested on his side, and she seemed to think about it for a good, single moment.

"I think someone's either trying to rip their reputation down or fuck with yours. Seems petty, for one of the last two weeks of school. Maybe wants to break them up with whoever they're fuckin? Could be a lot of things, really," her hand traced a tattoo that was normally well hidden in front of her parents, but without a shirt was well on display for her to see. It covered scars he did well not to talk about, and she did just as well not to bring up. After all. She'd seen them before they'd gotten covered, and she knew the stories behind them.

And even if she hadn't.. well. Was it really her place to dig? He came to her when he was comfortable with things he wanted to say, and who was she to force him to tell her things.

"Thats not what I meant," though he seemed amused

"Mm?"

"What if I had slept with them,"

"Oh," she looked bemused, but didn't even seem startled at the question, "well first of all, I'd ask how you managed to land that one-"

"Rumor goes we slept together drunk at some party we didn't even go to last week.  Something like that."

"-because one, I want in on it too, and two. Attractive as you are, You don't particularly walk in the same social circles," hands that were naturally toned, but still far lighter then his own warm, dark skin, brushed up and down against his arms.

"...That said, I am serious," his face fell as he spoke, and he'd roll back onto his side as he spoke. She seemed miffed by the sudden lack of contact, but she was quick to follow him, rolling herself onto her own side and allowing an arm to wrap about his, "If something like it did happen, what would ya think?"

"Ah. well..." She hesitated again, though this time eyes glittering with intrigue and thought. He could see the gears turning in her brain, the way her mind buzzed with each and every thought, "I don't think I'd particularly mind. S'not like we're going to be here within the month," a clap of thunder, and a flash of lightning, and "Enjoy yourself. You don't let yourself have stuff. If what you want to do is go around and sleep with strange pretty girls and boys you've met at parties-"

"It's not, I think,"

"Who the hell am I to stop you? Sleep with a teacher for all I care," he'd roll his eyes, and she'd pull the fallen blanket closer to them as the both of them began to feel the effects of chill on bare skin, "just don't give me an STD or anything."

And that was that. The subject would change, and they'd sit there with their voices all but whispers, waiting until at least one of them finally let sleep get to them.

("I could make a blog about it," she'd said, as they'd been working on their plan, "would go along nicely with my videos, yeah? Talk about everywhere were going, what it was like, what the people were like," She nodded to the lists they'd slowly been working on separately, but combining together.

Lists of anything and everything they could find. National and international landmarks and tourist traps, beautiful national parks and natural formations, restaurant they'd found from clickbait internet videos that made this mouth water and stomachs jump. Ghost towns, water parks and amusement parts, even a few medieval fairs that only opened on certain parts of the year. A list with Interesting small towns in foreign countries tucked away in a passport that she'd gotten the day she'd turned 18 with money she'd stashed away in the back of dresser for the last few years. They'd been in the process of organizing it, listing where everything was in order and making guesses on how much they'd spend where.

There's was no guess for time. There was no need for it. They had all the time they could want when they left. Their only indication of when it would be time to leave would be when the buzz and excitement of the place they were at wore down, and their itch and curiosity for the next place would overpower it.

"Maybe," he'd nod, reaching over to fumble with a camera that they would only pack away last minute, "You'd need to get a domain name and set up a site. But I think we can make something work out?" She'd nod, and they'd move onto the next bit of planning that they'd scattered out.)

That was, of course, until they approached /him/ about it.

He'd been sitting against Eden, thumbing a joint between his fingers and letting smoke fill the air around them. It was the kind of atmosphere that soothed his anxiety, giving him a moment to breath. They'd been doing this more and more often. Which was saying something in itself, he supposed. But the weeks were practically getting shorter, days growing closer and closer to graduation till there was only three days left. Classes had turned to practice (wasn't like either of them were going to graduation) and the only reason he'd bothered to come to school at all was nothing but an excuse to see her, despite having all but moved himself into her bedroom at night.

"We could leave for the day," She'd offer, her hands brushing through his hair in a quiet, soothing gesture. Following against a long, bleached dread and landing to lightly scratch against the cloth of his shirt, "what are they going to do? Suspend us the last few days of school," his eyebrows raised with intrigue, and he didn't have to say anything before she was adding in her "Mmm. And any trouble I get into with my folks won't matter within the next few days. And as nice as sitting and getting wet under a bunch of bleachers sounds, I think sitting in a warm car sounds better. The mattress is already set up in it, yeah? Maybe we can go up to the lake and watch the rain on it. Smoke for a bit. I bet steam is rising from it today. Creates a nice fog, ya know?"

Well. She wasn't wrong.

He nodded, throwing the rest of what he'd been smoking down on the ground and stomping it out, "Yeah. Sounds good. Maybe we can spend the rest of the night there. Could probably just talk a teacher into giving us out graduation certificated Early, and not come back. If we really wanted to"

"We could, mm..."

His eyes flicked up, meeting the eyes of someone he didn't think he'd bother to see or remember the name of within the next few months. More importantly, he felt the way Eden stiffened next to him, and with a glance he could quickly tell how her eyes would narrow with suspicion and uncertainty and distrust.

Eden rose up from her spot, hands in her pocket and eyes narrowed in their direction.

"Hey pretty-face, if you're here about the rumor, he didn't start it," She was careful to place herself between them, eyes quick to fall up and down. Behind the distrust was curiosity, and behind the curious was.. well, amusement, to a small degree, "Though, I guess that depends on how much you take my word for it. And if you aren't here about the rumor... Well, color me curious."