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wrongplacerighttime · 2 months

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fratboy!harry x you

hi hi! its been awhile. finally finished this after 3834273 weeks it feels like. its also my first reader fic so....hope you like it HAHAHA.... :)

the one where your friends introduce you to Harry, you go on a trip and things get interesting. featuring a lake house, hiking, and a cherry sucker.

wc: 5.8k

tw: smut 18+, spanking, choking, light dom!harry dynamic, brief clit slapping, brief face slapping, lil bit of cum play, size kink, breeding kink if you squint. idk if i missed anything but as always let me know if i did :)

cherry sucker

Finding solace in the chirping birds and chattering on the street that could be heard from your open window, you stood in front of your closet, clad in a little white tank and baby blue undies, preparing your bag for a camping trip you and your friends had planned. Spring semester has concluded and this trip will commemorate the start of summer vacation. You daydream about the sun glistening off the ripples of the lake water, the smell of the grass wafting in the wind as the sun warms the earth while you pack your bag.

While you were excited for summer, you wanted to get a head start on your reading for fall semester. You had a textbook or two in the bottom of your bag—poli sci books, because you had heard the professor was relentless with his lesson plan and you wanted to go in with no surprises. You hear the faintest footsteps down stairs, growing louder the closer they drew up the stairs. Your door swings open and Faye strides through, red hair flowing behind her at the pace she was walking. She comes up behind you, smacking your ass making you yelp.

“Faye!” You squeal, clutching the cheek that was now turning red with your best friend's hand print.

“I’m so envious of your ass, I just had to.” She falls backwards on your bed, arms sprawling beside her. “It’s just so tempting.” She giggles and you turn back to your closet.

“I’m so glad we actually have time to see each other now that classes are over. School’s been so busy I feel like all I’ve done is sleep and go to class.”

“Is that why you have a fucking textbook in your bag?” Faye raises her eyebrow at your duffle and picks one up. “Russian socioeconomic structure? What even is this?”

“It’s for Professor Sykes. I’ve heard he's brutal and I want to be prepared.”

“You are not bringing this. You have a whole summer ahead of you to study.” Faye scoffs, pausing for a moment. “If you bring this book on this trip I’ll throw it in the lake myself.”

“Then you’ll owe me $200. Besides, what if I get bored?” You cross your arms over your chest and Faye looks at you like you’ve grown another head.

“There’s a lake! A lake!” She throws her hands up in the air, laughing at your determination. You bend down, opening your drawer and pulling out a skimpy yellow bikini to throw in your bag. “By the way, Josh is bringing a friend. His name’s Harry…Styles I think. Do you know him?” You shake your head.

“Know of him, don’t know him though.”

“Oh. Well he’s single…and kind of hot.” Faye giggles and you shake her head again.

“No thanks. I’m not really into the dating scene right now.”

“No one said anything about dating. Just maybe for a little…fun.” This time, it’s your turn to look at Faye like she’s the one who’s grown another head. “Fine. If you don’t want to…maybe he’ll be our third.” She wiggles her eyebrows and you widen your eyes in horror at her suggestion of asking Harry to join her and her boyfriend in their sexual endeavors.

Before you can get another thought in, heavy footsteps clamber up the stairs and it’s Josh, Harry in tow with a backpack slung over his shoulder and suddenly your room feels very small. Josh flicks his eyes to you, smiling and sitting next to Faye on your bed.

“Pauly and Alex are on their way. We’re putting all the shit in their car and you guys are gonna ride with us.” He says, gesturing his finger between the two of you and you nod. The window open brings a warm breeze into the room, blowing your sketchbook pages until it lands on one with a drawing of a man.

Not just any man…it was your ex. Your eyes flick to everyone and you rush over to shut it before anyone can catch it. It was an old drawing, and a hobby you hadn’t picked back up since things ended and you really didn’t feel like rehashing the breakup with Faye. Faye wasn’t the biggest fan of him, and for good reason after he cheated on you with the TA in one of his classes last semester.

Harry stands in the doorway, chewing gum between his molars, his jaw flexing and glances around your room—the bedroom of a girl whom he’d never met, and it felt very personal…like he was getting a peak into who you were as a person. An overflowing bookshelf, handmade drawings stuck to a corkboard on the wall over the desk. Faye and Josh were talking in hushed whispers and he tilted his head to the side as he had the perfect view of your ass as you were turned around and facing your desk. He smirks at the red hand mark left there, and he could feel his cock twitching in his pants at the thoughts running through his head. He drops his gaze as you turn back around to walk towards your closet again. His eyes meet yours and you smile, a greeting showing you were just being nice, and he wonders if you always walk around half dressed in front of strangers. He clears his throat.

“Sykes next semester?” He asks, voice with a hint of an accent you weren’t expecting and you nod.

“How’d you know?” He gestures his elbow towards your bag, the textbook on top of your clothes and your mouth forms and “O” and you nod.

“He teaches that entire fucking book every year. It’s such a snooze fest.” He pauses. “Do you like Russian literature?” You nod again, gesturing to your bookshelf filled with classics and fantasy and romance. You had a few authors on the shelf, but not as many as you would like. He brings his backpack around to his side, unzipping and reaching in. He pulls out a tattered book, crinkles in the cover and the corners turning up, all characteristics of a well loved piece and hands it to you. “Read this instead. A lot more interesting.” He smirks and your gaze drops to the words on the cover. A collection of poems by Anna Akhmatova. In the short conversation you were having you didn’t realize that you had been left alone with him. He smiles, a sly grin spreading on his lips almost like he knew he was about to be a menace.

“By the way, blue looks good on you.” He flicks his gaze down before meeting your eyes again. You feel your cheeks burning instantly as he walks out the door laughing to himself as he stumbles his way down the stairs, leaving you to finish packing alone.

The car ride to the cabin had everyone buzzing with anticipation. Faye had called shotgun, and you and Harry shared a look when she did. He smirked and you looked away and quickly climbed into the backseat. The entire ride you were consumed with a nervous energy that you couldn’t quite place. Harry had his hand splayed out on the seat beside you and when he leaned forward to talk to Josh, the tip of his pinky barely brushed your skin and you tried not to think about it too hard for the rest of the ride over.

It took no time for you to clamber out of the car and claim your room inside for the weekend. Tossing your bag onto the floor by the door, you flopped down on the fluffy mattress holding the book Harry lent you to your chest. You were fiddling with the cover when Faye waltzed in and leaned against the foot of the bed.

“Get up. We’re going on a hike.” She said giddy with excitement and you cocked your eyebrow at her.

“Think I’ll pass.”

“Not an option. Everyone else is going.” She crosses her arms and leans on the doorframe.

“I didn’t bring shoes for a hike.” You half laugh at her with a shake of your head and she narrows her eyes.

“You can wear a pair of mine. Let’s go.” Faye gestures and you groan, tossing the book back onto the bed with a soft thud against the duvet. You pad down the hallway after her, slumped over feigning protest like a toddler and she hands you a pair of her sneakers once you reach her room. Slipping them on, you plait your hair behind your head quickly and messily as you find your way to the foyer where everyone is gathered and waiting to leave. None of them look thrilled either as they follow Faye out the door to the path behind the house.

The June sun was high in the sky and the only reprieve you were able to get from the heat was the occasional shade of the trees along the path. You and Harry had fallen behind, the rest of the group up ahead and through heavy breaths you would sneak glances from the corner of your eye as the sun glistened off the light sheen of sweat coating his shoulders and his chest. He had popped a cherry sucker in his mouth not long ago and you watched as he moved it from one cheek to the other with his tongue and caught your mind wandering to what his tongue might feel like running along the expanse of your skin. You walk in silence, hands brushing slightly from the uneven terrain and you want to apologize for repeatedly bumping him but you don’t.

“Does she always make you do shit like this?” He huffs from behind you, stepping over a fallen limb.

“Unfortunately.” You grumble back, trying not to roll your ankle stepping over rocks bigger than the palm of your hand.

Even though this hike was the last thing Harry wanted to be doing, he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed your company, though little conversation had been exchanged since the moment in your room. His eyes trailed over your body, noticing the bead of sweat rolling down your chest and his tongue darts out over his lips, wanting nothing more than to trail his tongue down the same path. He watched the way your thighs flexed as you stepped over limbs and branches and he thought about them wrapped around his waist, driving into you over and over while your fingers leave marks over his torso. He pulls his shirt over his head, unable to take the heat of the afternoon any longer and he tucks it into the waistband of his shorts. He’s noticed you watching him too, stealing glances out of the corner of your eye and biting your teeth into the pillowy flesh of your bottom lip. He’s convinced that he could do anything and you’d melt into the palm of his hand, so desperate to please him and be good for him. He smirks to himself as you divert your eyes ahead, away from his now bare torso and towards the ground.

He looks at you briefly before his eyes flick ahead, and you don’t know that he’s judging how long it would take for your friends to notice if he pulled you out of sight for a moment. He decides it’s worth the risk, lightly grabbing your arm and pulling you behind a nearby tree. You feel the bark against your back as he cages your head between his arms and you look up at him with wide eyes. All you can hear is the pounding of your heart against your ribcage at his close proximity.

So close you can smell the cherry on his breath, hear the faint sound as the confection clatters against his teeth. Your eyes focus on the white stick poking from between his lips and he watches you. His hands dig into the roughness of the oak and his chest pressed against yours. Suddenly the heat of the afternoon feels suffocating. He brings his own hand to his mouth, plucking the stick from between his teeth and the sticky residue touches your lips. Upon instinct, your tongue darts out to collect, catching the sweetness and savoring it for a moment.

“Open.” His voice is low and gravelly, and for some reason you find yourself obeying his command before you can even think too hard about it. Your lips part and you stick out your tongue in anticipation, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches you and he hums. “Can y’hold this for me, puppy?”

A heat swirls in your core, and without noticing your thighs clench together and a whine escapes your throat as you nod. Harry places the sweet candy on your tongue and your lips wrap around the stick slick from his own salivation. “Good girl.” He mutters, stepping away and creating space between the two of you. You snap out of the trance you seemingly had fallen into and scurry away, catching up to your friends and leaving him laughing behind you.

Nightfall comes before you have a chance to think about it. You had taken a quick nap after you returned from the hike and it was much needed, considering your mind was going haywire and you just needed a break from your thoughts drifting to Harry. It was quiet out here, you and Harry the only ones left sitting next to the fire Josh and Pauly had started a couple of hours ago. You were huddled up under a blanket, the air blowing off the lake making it feel colder than it actually was. Frogs were humming by the water and the crickets were chirping in the grass, the sounds of nature around you made you feel calm. You had the book Harry had loaned you resting against your thigh as you read the prose on the weathered pages. Harry had his head leaned back, fingers weaved together on his chest with his eyes closed. Occasionally you would peek over at him and he seemed tranquil. You weren’t sure why he was still here with you, but maybe he was just enjoying the fire like you were. You had purposely avoided him after the incident on the hike, the memory still causing an arousal to pool beneath the denim of your shorts and you tried like hell to push it from your mind.

“Let’s swim.” He states, pulling you from your thoughts. You raised your brow at him, a quizzical look.

“I’ll pass.” You blow out a laugh and he turns his head towards you then.

“Why? Faye and Josh are off somewhere, probably fucking, and Pauly and Alex are doing bong rips inside. Not really a fan of that…they're incessantly annoying when they’re high. So let’s go swim.” He says nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders as if it was the most sound choice of activity for this time of night.

“It’s cold, and I’m actually enjoying this book of poems you lent me.” You tell him, and because you’re not looking at him at that second you don’t see the way the corner of his mouth twitches into a half smile.

“Anna Akhmatova is interesting. But you have all weekend to read it.” He turns to face you then, you catch the movement out of your peripheral.

“I also have all weekend to swim.” You tease him. He’s silent for a moment and you turn the page to read the next poem. He shifts in his seat.

“Alright. I didn’t want it to have to come to this…” He says, sighing. He stands, making his way over to you. Before you can process what he’s doing, he snatches the book and throws it onto a neighboring chair. In one swift movement, he picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder as he walks towards the dock. You thrash and kick but it’s no use, not when he’s stronger than you’ll ever be.

“Harry! Put me down!” You exclaim, laughing in the process and you feel his chest against your thighs. He doesn’t respond. “Okay! I surrender. I’ll swim with you. Please just don’t throw me in.” You try to reason with him and he stops, pausing his movements and taking in your words. He plants your feet on the weathered wood, and you look up at him with narrowed eyes as he smiles down at you, a crooked grin that had your knees feeling weak. “That wasn’t funny. I don’t have a swim suit on either.”

“I guess that gives us a perfect excuse to go skinny dipping then.” He states as if there’s nothing wrong with that scenario.

“Respectfully, no. I’ll swim in my clothes.” You counter back.

“Sweet girl, it’s nothing you or I haven’t seen before. Be mature.” He teases and you want to laugh, but you cross your arms over your chest, instinctively making yourself smaller. He hooks his fingers in the waistband of his shorts before looking back at you, noticing your hesitation and he stops. “We really don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He puts his hands on your arms, and you shake your head, looking out at the ripples on the surface lit by the moon.

“No it’s—I’m not—it’s fine. I want to. I just haven’t really taken my clothes off in front of a guy in—since…” You pause, collecting your thoughts before looking up at him. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t know why I’m being this way. I think I’m just nervous.”

“You don’t have to feel that way around me. Promise.” He smiles and turns back around, pushing his shorts down so you have a view of his bare ass. Your cheeks redden as you avert your gaze elsewhere, and he jumps into the water with a splash. You can’t see him, not until he pokes his head back up and shakes the water from his hair. “It feels great.” He covers his eyes with his hands. “I won’t look if you don’t want me to. Not until you’re in the water.” He says and you nod, and then realizing he can’t see you clear your throat.

“Okay.” Your voice feels small. Hesitantly you unbutton your shorts, sliding them down along with your underwear and pulling the sweatshirt over your head leaving you bare and exposed, and you hoped and prayed that Alex and Pauly weren’t watching out the window. You drop it to the dock, your clothes and his making separate piles, taking a step towards the edge and looking down into the water. Here goes nothing, you say to yourself and leap in. And he was right, it really did feel great. It envelopes around you as you swim upwards and breach the surface, wiping your eyes and opening them. He’s there in front of you, a smile plastered on his face.

“See, s’not so bad, right?” He asks and you shake your head again as you tread the water. And you both stay like that for a while, swimming and floating. He floats on his back and you try a little too hard to not let your gaze travel south, focusing on his face and how content he looks with his eyes closed. You’re too busy staring at the tattoos littering his torso when he says something you don’t quite catch.

“Hm?” Your gaze flits back to his face and he’s smiling.

“I said,"Do you like what you see?” He laughs and you can feel your cheeks redden because he caught you staring at him.

“I’m sorry.” You apologize sheepishly and he swims over to you, closing the distance and you bite back a grin at the close proximity.

“Don’t need to apologize, sweet girl.” He says, his voice low and he brings his hand up to thumb over your lips, parting them before his thumb runs over your cheek. “Be lying if I said I haven’t been staring at you all night.” He confesses and you think if you were nervous before, then you’re not sure what you’re feeling right now. It feels like a stampede of elephants is running through your belly as he runs the backs of his fingers across your cheek. You decide to just rip the bandaid off and go for it. Your hands find his face and you crash your lips to his, and he’s taken off guard but the next second his hands dip under the water and he pulls you into him, the warmth of your bodies melding together underneath the surface. Upon instinct, your legs wrap around his waist as you push your chest into him, causing him to tighten his grip on your waist, dimpling the skin beneath his fingertips.

It was almost like neither of you needed to speak, once the kiss had broken you both swam fervently towards the dock. He hoists you up by your waist, quickly dressing just to go inside and get undressed again. He pulls you by your hand towards the cabin, and you say a silent prayer that your friends who were in here made their way outside.

By the grace of some higher power, the house was empty and the air inside was cold and smelled of the aftershocks of bong rips and a half smoked joint. Harry pulled you down the hall, into his room, and shut the door behind him with a click of the lock.

He smirks and he pushes you down into the bed, hair wet and sticking to the skin of your neck. He crawls over you after pulling your shorts off and throwing them somewhere across the room, slotting a knee between your thighs and instinctively you grind against him, gripping onto his biceps. He hooks a finger in the waistband of your panties and slides them down your thighs in one swift move, and you kick them the rest of the way off in anticipation.

“Been thinking about taking those off since I saw you prancing around your room in them this morning.” His voice drops an octave as he ghosts the tip of his nose along your cheek , tracing the outline of your jaw as you desperately move your hips seeking for any friction it would give you. He pulls back, looking over your features and you can see his pupils blown from his own pleasure.

“Look at you.” He coos, clicking his tongue behind his teeth. “Taking before I can even give anything to you, so selfish.” He purrs, and somehow the tone of it makes you stop, halting the movement of your hips.

“No. Go ahead, angel. Wanna watch you get yourself off just from riding my thigh. Need it so bad, can’t even help yourself.” He coos, but his tone is condescending and you almost question him. He raises a brow, running a thumb over your cheek delicately. The harsh tone of his voice and the softness of his touch playing mind games with you. “Do it. Be a good girl.” He encourages you, and you feel like it’s a trap.

“N-no. Want whatever you wanna give me. I’m sorry. Won’t happen again.” You pout your lower lip out and he thumbs over it, pulling it down before it bounces back into place. You like that he takes initiative, being dominant over you like it comes so easily for him. He can see the wheels in your mind turning and he cocks his head to the side.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just never done this before. Never had someone be…” You trail off, but he nods like he already knew what you were going to say.

“I see. Sweet girl’s never had someone take control over her?” You shake your head. He rolls his lip between his teeth, eyes flittering around your face. “But you crave it, don’t you? Just wanna be a cock-drunk little slut? Wanna have someone filling you, telling you what to do?” His words penetrate your brain and your eyes flutter closed. “Answer me. Is that what you want?” He demands and you nod, faster than you ever have and he flashes his pretty smile at you.

“Yes. Please.” Finding your voice, begging him. He shifts, pressing his thigh into your center and a whimper falls from your lips, the heat growing between your thighs.

“Go.” He leans down, pressing his lips to your pulse point and trailing kisses down your collar bone. Slowly, your hips begin to move and you’re almost embarrassed at your arousal coating his skin, glistening in the soft glow of the lamp. You push the thoughts away, focusing on your pleasure as you feel his hardening length against your thigh, pressing into you. You reach down, palming him through the material before he grabs your wrist and pins it above your head. “Didn’t tell you you could touch.” He mumbles against your skin and you whine in protest. Your hips move faster now, and you’re so close. Just as you’re about to tip over the edge, he pulls away and your lungs deflate, a breath being taken away from you. He stands over you, pushing his shorts down and your eyes widen at the sight of him. You want to reach out and grab him, pump his cock with your hand but you refrain. He leans over you again, planting kisses down your chest and dipping in the valley between your tits, his nose ghosting over your skin.

“Want you to tell me red if you wanna stop, okay? Green if you wanna keep going. Got it?” He asks and you nod. He peeks up at you through his lashes and cocks his brow. “Words, puppy. Can’t hear a nod or a shake.”

“Yes. I’m—yes. Got it” You’re breathless with your answer. He peppers small kisses over your navel, gripping your hips between his fingers as his head dips lower, kissing the insides of both thighs, trailing his tongue over your skin and purposely skipping over your weeping hole just to make you squirm under his grip. He parts you open then, collecting your arousal on his tongue and the wicked sensation makes your back arch from the bed, pushing your core closer to him and he forces you back down.

“Uh-uh. Stay still or I’ll stop.” He mumbles, and a whine bubbles in your throat. He laps lazily st your core, circling and flattening his tongue over your clit as you try your hardest to keep your hips still. His fingers dimple your skin, digging into the muscle underneath. He knew he was gripping hard enough to leave small bruises in the shape of his fingertips, and he wanted to. Wanted you to remember his head between your thighs as you shattered just from the flick of his tongue against your sensitive bud. You’re a mess of moans and panting his name over and over. He pulls your clit between his teeth and your hips jolt upwards and he pushes you back down to the mattress. He pulls away, and your chest heaves at the loss of contact but a cry escapes your throat when he lands a light smack to your center, and the pain morphes into pleasure as tears well up in your eyes at the sting.

“Told you to stay still. Can’t follow simple directions, angel?”

“M’s—sorry.” You gasp and he glances up at you, noticing your wet lashes and he props himself up on his elbows.

“What's your color, sweet girl?” His tone is gentle, planting a soft kiss to the top of your thigh and peeking up at you from under his lashes.

“Green.” You answer eagerly and he smiles against your skin, crawling back up to level with your eyes. His lips find yours and you open, allowing him to push his tongue into your mouth against your own, the room around you melting away. It’s slow, sensual and full of desire. He doesn’t pull away as he lines himself up with you, the tip of his cock teasing your aching hole and you move your hips trying like hell to get him further inside.

“So needy.” He mumbles against your lips and pulls your bottom one between his teeth, nipping gently. He pushes into you slowly, your mouth dropping open as he lays his forehead against your collarbone. “So tight, sweet girl. I don’t think m’gonna fit.” He pushes into you further, teeth marking your skin as he groans against your skin and you whine at the sting of him stretching you.

“Fuck, Harry.” You whimper, he cages your head between his hands, holding himself up as his biceps flex and extend, the sinewy tissue underneath his skin prominent. He looks down between your bodies, where he's halfway sheathed inside your pussy and he chuckles, a breathy laugh that morphs into a sigh.

“Pretty little pussy looks so pitiful like this. Can’t do it, puppy.” He pants, and you know somewhere in the back of your mind that he’s just playing a part, but it doesn’t stop the cry that escape from your throat as you beg him to fuck you.

“Please, Harry. Need you. Want you so much. Can take it, promise. Please.” You look up at him with wide eyes and he admires you for a moment, taking in the pout playing on your pretty mouth that he just wants to kiss away, the tears welling in your eyes that he’ll wipe away if they fall. The need in your voice letting him know you’d do anything he asks of you in this moment.

“Alright, I’ll give it to you. Gonna go slow til you’re all stretched out f’me.” He palms your thighs, hiking them around his waist and continues to fill you, your head lulling to the side as your eyes flutter closed and your jaw falls slack when he reaches to the hilt, balls resting against your ass as his head falls back. “So fucking good, angel. Look at me, wanna see those pretty eyes.”

So you listen, do the best you can to force your eyes open as he starts to rock his hips into you, pulling out to the tip before filling you up again and again. He hikes your leg over his shoulder, kissing down your calf as he sets his rhythm, going deeper from this angle. His eyes never leave yours as he groans and nibbles on your skin, peppering small bites and then soothing with his tongue. He hits the right spot every time, and when your eyes finally betray you and fall closed, you feel a smack land on your cheek. Not hard, but just enough to sting and you whimper.

“Thought you were a good girl.” He says through gritted teeth and he drives into you harder.

“I-I am. Want to be good for you.” He grunts at your response, he pulls out and flips you over before pulling your ass up in the air so you sit on your knees with your face down in the mattress. He palms your ass, landing a smack to your cheek. He rubs over the spot gently, soothing as you push closer into his touch and he's climbing behind you, lining up and pushing back in and it feels even better from this angle. Hitting every spot just right and you swear you see stars. He reaches around you, pushing on your tummy just under your navel and wraps his other hand around your throat lightly, pulling you up.

Your back is flush with his chest, skin sticking together from the light sheen of sweat coating both your bodies. One hand squeezing the sides of your neck and the other pressing still on your belly and he nips at your ear.

“Can feel me all the way in your tummy, can’t you? This is what you like right? Nobody’s ever had you like this have they?” He whispers and you shake your head. His hand finds yours and he brings it back to the spot just below your belly button. “Feel that? Feel me so deep in this pretty pussy. Gonna get you all full of me, fill you with my babies.” He grits and squeezes your neck a little harder, the corners of your vision darkening before he lets go and you take in a full breath, feeling high on him…and he’s all you know. His words, his hands roaming your body and his cock stretching you.

“Harry, I’m so close.” You breathe out and he grunts, lips ghosting over your shoulder blade.

“I know…can feel you squeezing my cock so tight angel. C’mon. Cum for me.” He encourages you and you shatter around him, pussy pulsing around him bringing him to his own release as he paints inside you. He wastes no time pulling out and you topple over from your legs feeling weak and he dips down behind you. You feel him dripping out of your hole, and his fingers spread you open. Pushing one inside with no warning, he fucks his cum back inside of you with his fingers and you hum, unable to make any other noise and he chuckles behind you.

“Like being filled like this? Look so pretty full of me, dripping out of you. Never gonna forget it.” He mutters, planting a kiss on the small of your back before standing. Finding the energy to roll over, he offers his fingers to you and you take them between your lips and taste the mix of both of you on his fingers. He curses under his breath at the sight of you, feeling his cock twitching back to life and he pulls them away to stop himself thinking about fucking you again and again.

You slept in his bed that night.

The weekend ended all too quickly, and you were half asleep in the back seat of Josh’s car with your head resting on the window, holding Harry’s book on your thighs and fiddling wither cover, something you had become accustomed to as you read the prose on the pages or when you closed in while engaging in conversation. Truthfully, you didn’t know if you’d see him in that capacity again after this weekend and didn’t know if you wanted to go back to being strangers that passed each other in the economics building on campus.

Josh pulled up to the house you and Faye shared, and Harry follows you out of the car. He retrieves your bag from Pauly’s car for you, carrying it up to your room and putting it down on your bed. You almost felt like you were having deja vu, the scene similar to one from Thursday afternoon, except this time you weren’t half naked in front of him and he wasn’t just a stranger in your room anymore. You look around, then to the floor before meeting his eyes and he smirks as he leans against your doorframe.

“Here.” You hand him the book but he puts his hands up, shaking his head.

“Keep it.” He says, and you almost refuse but accept it anyway. He bites the inside of his cheek, shifting his weight and shoving his hands in his pockets. He steps closer, brushing your hair behind your ear as you look up at him. “Don’t be a stranger, angel.”

“I won’t be.”

He leaves you there, standing in the middle of the room with his book clutched to your chest with a cheesy grin plastered on your face.

And you knew it wouldn't be the last time you saw Harry Styles.

1K notes · View notes

breadbrobin · 4 months

Note

Hi idk if you’re taking reqs but I’ve been reading your posts about Luke Castellan a lot and I think I’m getting obsessed- So could you make a fic/shot about a Luke Castellan x daughter of Apollo reader where they’ve known each other since childhood and they’re kind of like frenemies (friends and/or enemies) and one day he ends up getting badly injured after a quest so she has to take care of him in the infirmary for a week, but ever since that happened he’s been trying to get injured just to go and see reader at the infirmary again?

Sorry if that wasn’t clear, and this is kinda inspired from another fic you made about Luke and daughter of Apollo:)

But if you ever make something like this I would really appreciate it if you tagged me!

two hearts

luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

[fem!daughter of apollo reader]

summary: (as above)

warnings: canon typical mentions of violence, kissing, flirting, a couple of swear words, blood, idiots to lovers a lil bit too (can you tell it’s my favourite thing)

word count: 3.5k

(hiiii hello hi!! sorry this took me so long to get out, but here it is!! thank you so much for the request i had a lot of fun with this one (3.5k words of fun apparently). hope you enjoy it!)

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if someone had told you luke castellan was going to be gone on a quest when you arrived at camp for the summer, you wouldn’t have spent the whole drive to camp preparing to deal with his annoying ass.

you hiked up half-blood hill and over the boundary, noticing the distinct tension in the atmosphere. something was off.

when luke hadn’t come to see you as you dropped your bags off in the apollo cabin, or when you stopped into the infirmary, or even when you walked past the hermes cabin, you were clued in that something was up.

“where’s luke?” you asked chiron curiously.

“he is on a quest, child. sent by his father,” he smiled down at you warmly. “do not worry about him.”

“i’m not worried,” you bit your lip. “just curious. that’s all.”

and that was that.

it was weirdly boring being at camp without luke’s constant snarky comments. ever since you’d both gotten to camp when you were younger, he’d been a persistent thorn in your side. maybe it was because you both were new around the same time, or because you didn’t like it when he hovered around the infirmary, poking his quick fingers into buckets of bandages and medications. whatever it was, he seemed to enjoy irritating you. and you apparently enjoyed it more than you thought.

monotonous days: breakfast, archery, infirmary, training, activities, dinner, bed.

sleepless nights: nightmares of quests and dragons and a bright white scar.

you sighed one night, waking up from yet another dream of flashes and brief images. your siblings were sleeping around you, a couple of them snoring, and you sat up.

the air on the porch was cooler that night, especially for summer time. you wrapped your sweatshirt a little tighter around yourself and leaned on the porch railing, peering out into the darkness. you just needed a minute, really. you sat down on a chair and relaxed.

you woke up abruptly.

at first, you were confused as to why.

then you saw the figure on the hill.

it was a camper. the hint of orange in the full-moon light told you that much. they were stumbling down—no, they were rolling now.

you stood up and dashed back into your cabin, grabbing your to-go first aid kit. you then turned and ran towards the obviously injured figure. there were only three people it could be. and where were the other two?

you reached them quickly, dropping to your knees beside them and rolling them over.

luke.

it was luke.

the air rushed from your lungs. he was here. he was back. he was alive. you’d never felt such an overwhelming emotion before. it drew slight stinging tears to your eyes.

his eyes were barely open but he gripped your arm with a strength you didn’t think his weak body could still possess. “y/n?”

“just hold on, luke,” you whispered. there were injuries all over his body. you hardly knew where to start. “just hold on.”

“they’re gone,” he said absently.

you looked at him, but didn’t stop trying to help. “who’s gone?”

“everyone,” he stared up at the moon.

you bit your cheek and looked over your shoulder. one of your brothers had gone on that quest with him. “wake up!” you shouted. “someone come help!” you turned back to luke. “okay, luke. you’re gonna be okay.”

his cheeks were hollow. it was then that you noticed the way his eye was swollen closed and a dark red angry cut traced its way down the side of his face. you gasped and turned his head gently to see it better.

“not looking good, huh?” he murmured bitterly. “guess i won’t be getting any modelling contracts soon.”

“we’ll see about that,” you muttered. “stay awake, yeah?”

“you’re not the boss of me,” he grumbled, but kept his eyes open as help finally arrived to get him to the infirmary.

he’d had more injuries than you’d originally thought. it was like he’d been attacked by half of the monsters in greek mythology, honestly, based on the peppered burn holes in his shirt, the cuts and scrapes on his arms and knees and the gashes littering his abdomen. oh, and not to mention the gaping spear wound in his right shoulder.

after working all night with some of your siblings and chiron in the infirmary, he was finally stable. finally, he’d be okay.

you volunteered to stay with him to keep an eye on him for the first few hours, though your eyelids were drooping with sleep.

you held his hand. it felt like the right thing to do.

he didn’t stir.

it was strange, being around him without him talking. since you were fourteen, he’d rarely managed to shut up around you. incessant talking and waving his hands around, explaining some new thing he learned in sword fighting or some joke one of his brothers made. it was both infuriating and entertaining. you loved and hated it, just like you loved and hated him.

sitting in silence with luke castellan felt like the world was turning on its head.

a couple of hours passed. you didn’t let go of his hand. not even as you slipped into a dream—a memory, really.

you were fifteen, and it was raining. it had only been a few months since you got to camp. things were still fresh and somewhat unknown. what you did know, though, was you could never get a moments peace anymore.

“y/n?”

you rolled your eyes. of course it was luke. “what?”

“where are you?”

you supposed you were hidden pretty well. sitting among the reeds at the bottom of the lake was one of your favourite places to be. it was cooler there, but even in winter it wasn’t cold. your feet could sit in the water if you wanted them to and the reeds blocked you from the wind and outside attention.

when you didn’t respond, you could hear him coming closer anyway.

“that’s fine, don’t tell me. i’ll find you anyway.”

and he did. he always did.

there was some theory about that, you realised as he sat beside you, the tiny space between the reeds barely big enough to hold both of you. some theory about a string of fate tying people together. some greek myth about people originally having four arms, four legs and two hearts, and when zeus split them down the middle, those people spent the rest of their lives searching for their other halves. drawn together by fate and reconnected always. you arm was pressed against his arm and your leg against his leg, and maybe it felt so right because you were cold and he was warm. not because of some silly soulmate theory that didn’t even make sense. because there was also the idea that maybe he’d put a tracker on you, but you had no idea where he would have gotten that. or maybe you were just bad at hiding.

“i’ve been looking for you,” he said.

you tilted your head in confusion. “what? why?”

“well,” were you mistaken, or were his cheeks kind of red? “i kinda hurt myself at training today. and the people in the infirmary told me to grow up and get over it. but honestly, it really hurts and i just wanted to know if you could heal it.”

you rolled your eyes. “always needing something, huh, castellan? is it so much to ask for you to just want to see me?” you hold your hand out and he extends his sword arm, revealing the cross-muscle cut on his forearm.

“i do want to see you,” he protested. “honestly. it’s not my fault that i’m also coincidentally injured whenever i want to see you.”

you couldn’t stay mad at that smile. “coincidentally, huh?” you handed him a small section of ambrosia from your pocket as your fingers ran over the cut, whispering a prayer to your father. you watched as the skin knit itself closed again, leaving not even a scar on his arm. you pulled back with a smile. “there. done. good as new.”

“thanks, doctor. don’t know what i’d do without you.”

“die a horrible death and be left permanently disfigured? to the point where we’d do a closed casket funeral just so we don’t have to look at your ugly face?” you tilted your head with a teasing smile.

he elbowed you. “shut up, loser. you know you love my face.”

and as you woke up, feeling his hand tighten around yours, you realised you kind of did. there was gauze over the cut on his eye and cheek, covering half of his face. and yet, he was still annoyingly beautiful.

“something on my face?” he mumbled as he saw looking, finally awake. “except for this thing, of course.” he gestured to the gauze.

you smiled wanly. “i’m glad you’re awake.”

“missed me?” he half-grinned.

you snort and drop his hand, patting the back of it and standing up to check his bandages. “you wish.”

he was silent as you checked his bandages and reapplied the few that were loosening. then, as you left to go and get the next person to keep an eye on him, he spoke up. “i missed you.”

you paused in the doorway, a small smile growing on your face. you looked back at him. his eyes were earnest and soft. he looked younger like this. “i’ll be back a few hours. we’ll have dinner together.”

you did have dinner together. in fact, you had almost every meal together for the first few days.

it was quiet, mostly. you didn’t ask him what happened and he didn’t tell you. you knew he’d already been interrogated by everyone else. he didn’t need that from you.

annabeth came and joined you a couple of times, chatting about some new architectural design she’d learned about or a new move she’d learned in training.

you realised how alike they were. family in every way that mattered, regardless of blood.

it didn’t take long for luke to start getting annoying again though.

once he’d been in the infirmary for four days, he regained most of his usual personality. and that meant bad jokes, incessant talking and poorly-timed, half-hearted flirting.

“the sun makes your eyes glow,” he said one day. he’d never had much of a filter, so it wasn’t too out of the blue, but it still caught you a little of guard.

you fumbled the supplies in your hand. “sorry, what?”

he was sitting up on his bed now. his wounds were almost healed. two more days and he’d be out of the infirmary. you didn’t know if you were one hundred per cent happy about that.

“your eyes. they glow in the sun.” he repeated.

you paused, glancing over at him. “thank you…?”

he nodded and leaned back, his eyes staying on you.

that was only the beginning.

within five hours he’d complimented your eyes, your skills, your smile and your kindness. multiple times. it got the point where the other two patients in the infirmary had stopped taking you seriously, just complimenting you instead. that’s where you drew the line.

“okay, luke, you need to stop. this is too much,” you said. you were checking his remaining wounds and nodding happily at them.

“what, am i flustering you? are you blushing?” he teased.

you were not blushing at all, you decided. whether it was strictly true or not was between your brain and your cheeks, not your honesty. “you’re annoying me,” you grumbled. “like, a lot.”

“you know you’ll miss me when i go back to my cabin,” he leaned back on his pillows, a smirk on his lips. it warped the scar on his cheek more than you expected, and it made your heart clench every time.

“if i miss you, you have permission to annoy me for the rest of my life,” you grumbled. you definitely wouldn’t miss this.

finally, he was out of the infirmary.

finally, you could work in peace.

finally, you could— oh, what the hell?

“good morning!” luke said as he waltzed into the infirmary. “i’ve injured myself.”

you looked him up and down as you walked closer. “you look fine to me. what did you do?”

“i fell of the rock climbing wall and hit my head.” he turned his head to show you the small trickle of blood above his ear.

you sighed and led him to a bed. you handed him ambrosia as you used a wet cloth to clean his head. “you were meant to take things easy for the first few days.”

“i did!” he protested. “i was only like, twelve feet up!”

you pursed your lips and shook your head. your hand was under his chin now, stopping him from turning his head to look at you. “taking it easy means no rock climbing at all, dumbass. you’ve been out of here for half a day and you’re already back!”

“maybe i like it in here.” he shrugged, pouting slightly, looking up at you.

“maybe i find you really annoying and ban you from coming in here,” you countered.

“you can’t do that,” he gasped.

“watch me, castellan.” you prodded his cheek mockingly. “don’t mess with me.”

his smile wasn’t exactly the response you were looking for, but you found that you didn’t mind it all too much.

luke came into the infirmary almost every two days for the next two weeks.

there was always some new injury that he couldn’t ignore, that he needed to have you heal. he only came in when you were there though, like he knew your schedule off by heart.

he probably did.

his sheepish smile was becoming a fixture of your days and you couldn’t help but smile a little brighter when you saw it. you couldn’t stop your heart from beating a little faster either, and it was annoying.

in the years that you’d been at camp, luke castellan had driven you up the wall. did you hate him? did you love him? how did you love him? how a friend loves a friend? how a doctor loves a patient? how a lover loves a lover? how did you hate him? why? why anything? why nothing? the questions only got worse.

“another minor injury?” you sighed, hearing his footsteps entering the infirmary. you didn’t know when you memorised the sound of his footsteps, or the rise and fall of his breathing while he slept, but you did.

“uh, not exactly…” the weakness in his voice made your stomach drop.

you turned around to see him clutching a bright red wound on his inner arm. he looked pale. that wasn’t a good sign. the blood was still seeping past his fingers. also not a good sign.

you gasped and pulled him to a bed immediately, pushing him to lie down and placing hard pressure on the wound. you could feel him reaching into your pocket and fishing around for ambrosia. once he found some, he ate it quickly and sighed in relief.

“what the hell happened?” you exclaimed.

he shrugged with one shoulder. “sword training.”

“were you training against the fucking terminator?” you took in the other minor cuts and bruises. your voice was unfairly shaky. you didn’t want to get close to losing him again. even just the thought made you feel sick.

his eyes were soft when they looked up at you. you almost dropped all of your anger right there. “i got sloppy,” he said nonchalantly. “i’ll be fine once i get back to normal.”

“this is an artery,” you said. “you could die.”

he didn’t look all that upset or shocked. “i won’t die, baby. i won’t.”

your stomach gave a pitiful lurch at the nickname. “save your energy.”

“is that your doctorly way of telling me to shut up?” he teased.

“yes, it is,” you nodded. “now, shut up while i help you.”

he looked at you like you were hanging the stars in the sky, not tending to him with hands red from his blood.

no one had stopped talking about luke since he got back. the first failed quest in years, with two of the three members dying and the third one permanently scarred by a dragon. not a good ratio.

you often saw luke sitting alone now, and when he was nowhere to be found, you knew where he was.

maybe there was something to the strings of fate theory, you thought as you found him and sat down beside him among the reeds. they were taller now and more dense, but the two of you had carved out a little spot for yourselves over time. your limbs were still pressed against each other though. that was one thing that would never change.

he was turning something over in his hands. a repetitive motion.

you tried to make sense of what it was, but couldn’t.

“it’s a dragon claw,” he spoke up. “the one that did this.” he pointed at the still-red scar on his face. that was why you couldn’t get rid of that one. magic scars never really went away.

you stayed quiet.

“peter distracted the dragon just in time for me to get my sword back. i got the cut, but when i turned back he was getting thrown against the mountainside.” he shook his head bitterly. “he didn’t stand a chance.”

you stared at a dragonfly on a reed in front of you. “knowing my brother, he just would have been happy to be there. and happy that you’re alive.”

he smiled, but it looked forced and bitter. “yeah. he spent the whole time talking about how lucky we were for this opportunity, and how he was so excited to explore beyond camp… and gianna was the same. they were just…” he was fiddling with his camp beads now.

you watched his movements slowly. it was like he’d never been gone, but also like everything had changed. there was a new tension in the air around him. you weren’t sure if it was you or him.

“don’t be resentful,” you said softly, breaking the silence.

“what?” his eyes turned to you. “what do you mean?”

“don’t resent yourself and the gods for this,” you said, leaning a little closer to him and looking away. the dragonfly hadn’t moved—like it was listening. watching. “peter and gianna made their choices. they’re in elysium now. that’s about as good as it gets.”

he pressed his lips together and nodded. “i know.”

maybe there was something to the two hearts theory too, because you could tell he didn’t. he didn’t agree. he didn’t want to. you slipped your hand into his. “you know i’m always here for you, right, luke? i mean, you annoy me—a lot—but you’re still, well, you. and you’re important to me. i’ll always be there for you. if you want to hold hate in your heart, then be my guest. i’ll just have to hold more love in mine to balance you out.”

he was watching your connected fingers as you spoke. his hands were calloused and hard, but yours were softer. less time spent training and more time spent healing. “love for who?”

you, you thought. you didn’t speak.

he turned to look at you. you were already looking at him. “love for me?”

you swallowed tightly. “luke…”

he leaned in closer, until his lips were moments away from touching yours. one wrong move and you’d touch. or was that the right move? was the wrong move pulling away? leaving him alone—again? that didn’t feel fair. but nor did your pounding heart and your flushing cheeks, and maybe you were blushing now, but that didn’t mean you had to like it.

then you gave in. that string that connected your souls was pulling you too tight. your lips brushed against his softly at first, and before you could think to move any further, his hand was gripping the back of your neck and pulling you closer, and his lips were pressing against yours with the passion of years of built up tension. you’d never hated him at all, you realised. you loved him the whole time. sure, he was irritating. he was chatty. he was pushy and annoying and never stopped bothering you. but you’d missed his bothering, and you’d missed his smile, and when he pulled away to take a breath, you missed his lips with a fiery need that bubbled up from deep down inside you.

“guess i’ll be annoying you for the rest of our lives then, huh?” he said softly, chest rising and falling against yours.

your eyes were still closed, reeling from the kiss. “wasn’t that a given anyway? i wouldn’t want it any other way, personally.”

when he kissed you again, you decided that the theory about two hearts was, in fact, correct. you met as two, seperate halves in a fucked up world that had you grow up far too fast. you grew as two, finding your places at camp, finding your people, but always finding each other first. you met now as one. four arms, four legs, two hearts, meeting in a tumultuous display of love and desire. and that’s how you wanted to stay. your limbs locked with his, your hearts pounding in sync, your every feeling, every emotion, every sensation making your very soul hum with joy. you’d found him, finally, after years of your hearts waiting for this moment. finally, your two hearts were one again.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo x reader #luke castellan x you #charlie bushnell

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nonstoplover · 9 months

Text

sleep without you ~ charles leclerc (cl16)

my masterlist | my f1 masterlist

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

song inspiration: sleep without you ~ brett young

summary: charles struggles to function properly without her by his side, or a story of a night without his girlfriend.

words: 2.1K

warnings: nothing, just fluff and a slightly clingy charles baby <3

a/n: idk why but this song honestly screams charles to me whenever i hear it, so i just had to make it happen. also this was supposed to be posted on my one year f1-aversary as celebration (well technically it should be more if counting my childhood f1 years but anyway), but i was so caught up in another wip that i couldn't do it. so happy anniversary to me and f1 (two weeks late) with this lil ficlet <3 thankful for all that f1 gave me.

big thanks to the amazing lovely silverstonesainz for helping me make this better and to the equally awesome monzabee for making me much less anxious with her words. love you sm queens!!

please, don't be a ghost reader, leave a comment or rb!

Charles spends a whole afternoon trying to convince her to have a night out with her friends. Just because they're in a relationship doesn't mean they can't have fun without the other as well from time to time. There are still a couple of weeks left of winter break, plenty of opportunity to spend time just the two of them before the season starts again. So the usual point of view, the usual reasoning doesn't stand a chance – that they should spend as much time together as they can, before he's back to travelling all around the world.

"Go to a club, grab some drinks, dance and laugh the night away", he tells her. The usual bestie coffee dates or walks in the park that she usually raises as argument are not the same as a night out, and she hasn't done that for so long now. Definitely not since he's been back home, and he knows just how much she enjoys dancing her heart out.

(y/n) agrees after a short while, accepting his reasons, knowing full well that he's right, and after a few phone calls she starts getting ready, soon walking out the front door, dressed all pretty and dolled up.

Doesn't take long before Charles realises what he's done. A feeling tingles in his chest, one he recognises swiftly. He's miserable. Solely because she's not there by his side, as he makes dinner, eats it – all by himself –, before settling on the couch to occupy himself with a movie. It doesn't matter though, he doesn't pay any attention to it. He doesn't even know what's going on, he hasn't heard a single line, too busy thinking about her.

When the credits start to roll, he switches the TV off with a surprised look in his eyes – how did it already end? He doesn't even remember the first scene ending. Then he moves into the bathroom to do his night routine, from taking a shower to putting on some skincare products, all the while wondering how long she will be out for? Will she come home soon? Hope tingles in his chest that the answer to his question is yes.

Having finished with everything, Charles lies down in bed, trying to read a book, then scrolling on social media, doing anything to keep his mind from straying over and over again back to her. He knows this is stupid, he was the one telling her to go out, why is he like this now? Lying awake on his side of the bed, the fingers on his right hand tracing figures onto the sheet where her body usually rests.

This is pathetic, Charles thinks. He never thought he would be like this, so miserable and impatient just because she's not at home, with him. He's tossing around, unable to find a comfortable position for himself – it seems like he forgot how to sleep without her. No matter how many times he's had to do just that, in hotel rooms all around the world. The past few weeks erased all those nights from his mind.

The delicious scent of her shampoo fills his lungs when his face lands just a bit too close to her pillow, and all of a sudden it's like he's burying his nose in her hair. It only makes him miss her more. Sleeping is impossible, he knows it now. He's only daydreaming, not actually dreaming, of her arriving home and being in his arms again.

Charles imagines the way she dances in the middle of the floor, her hands in the air, shouting the lyrics loudly to the song currently playing – most probably something she knows and loves –, and he can't help but smile fondly. Just the thought of her having fun is enough to make him happier, even in his misery.

He pictures a scene where a random guy tries to get too close to her, as it has happened so many times, whenever he leaves her alone for a few minutes at any club they've been to. It doesn't matter where they are, doesn't matter if they spent the night so far together, all over each other, someone comes into the picture immediately when he leaves, either to grab a drink for the two of them, or to go to the restrooms.

It's not like he doesn't understand those guys. She's simply gorgeous, and radiates such a vibrant aura that everyone is drawn to her. He honestly just finds it funny at this point. Nothing makes these men back off more effectively than her. Oh, the amount of times he bit back laughter watching the scene unfold from a distance. Seeing men crumble and disappear looking all ashamed, what a sight that is. And he doesn't have to do anything.

He wonders how many times she's had to fight off guys so far tonight, with him not even in the club, and he finds he can't wait to hear all her stories of the newest victims. Pierre never understood why Charles found it so amusing, he didn't seem to get it. The trust they have in each other. Knowing that it's him she'll come home to at the end of the night is enough to make him only feel entertained by each instance, and not irritated at the slightest bit.

But thinking about (y/n) fighting off men is only good enough entertainment for a limited amount of time, and soon the smile fades back into a miserable pout on his lips, as his thoughts turn back into ones of impatience, trying to make time move faster with short little prayers falling as mumbles from his lips.

With a sigh, he eventually sits up, looking around to find something he can do. At last he decides on grabbing a drink himself, maybe it will help stop the flow of thoughts racing in his head. A little welcomed dullness.

He takes a seat at the kitchen table, sipping on the liquid in his glass, enjoying the feeling of the light alcohol gently burning his throat on the way down, numbing his tongue along the way. His fingers stay restless, now drumming on the wooden surface. A few minutes later he realises they play a song, soundless except the soft thud of his fingertips with the occasional louder tap or little scratch of his nails when a finger finds a different angle to hit the table with.

A melody appears in his mind as he watches his fingers move, imagining how it would sound if it was his piano instead of the kitchen table. He would go sit at the beautiful, white instrument and try it, but he doesn't want to be so loud at such a late hour. And anyway, he's way too comfortable sitting where he is to stand up and go somewhere else.

He looks out the window, catching sight of the moon – almost full, just a tiny bit of it missing, and Charles examines the craters that are visible to the naked eye, though only as spots of a darker shade on the round shape.

Maybe he'll name this new musical piece that's being born in his head right now after her – well, if he ever finishes it. He'll keep the usual format, three letters of a city name and a date, only this time putting the time and place of when they first met. Or should it be the time and place of when he first asked her out? Or their first date? Or when she agreed to move in with him? God, there are way too many options to choose from. He decides to put this problem aside for now, he's not in a rush to name a song not even written yet.

As the clock on the oven changes all four numbers to display 2am, the action rouses his attention and makes him tear his eyes away from the moon and look at the numbers instead.

He would've never ever thought that he'd be like this.

Raising his glass he notices that there's only a small sip left in it, which he downs in a short moment. His tongue darts out to gather all the minuscule drops that might rest on his lips still, not wanting to waste even that much of the delicious drink. Then he stands up, placing the glass down into the sink, making a mental note to clean it in the morning before (y/n) wakes up.

Just as he ponders putting another movie on, maybe only as background noise if nothing else, his phone buzzes in the pocket of his pants. Taking his time, Charles pulls the device out, expecting nothing more than a useless notification from a social media app he shouldn't spend so much time on anyway.

Instead what he finds is a text. From her.

in a cab, be home soon <3

Charles lets out a relieved sigh, his lips involuntarily curving into a smile, one that you could almost call giddy. It's not just the thought that she's going to be here soon, but the fact that she remembered to text him to let him know. He's in her mind, just like she's in his, even though she's been out with friends, having fun, drinking, while he's only been at home, all alone with his misery.

Now he can move back to bed happily, knowing that shortly she will join him.

It truly doesn't take long until Charles hears the front door creak as it opens, then the familiar jingle of her keys hitting the drawer in the hall, and his heart flutters with happiness. Finally. The high heels she chose to wear hit the floor with a soft thud as she presumably removes them, and the growing anticipation in his body seems to eat him whole.

Her steps grow louder and louder as she moves closer to the bedroom, and time slows for Charles. He watches in slow motion as she appears in the doorframe, being propped up on his elbows to have a better view, a lazy smile curling onto his face, and his eyes lidded with drowsiness.

"You're still awake?" (y/n) giggles, pausing in her steps for a second as her eyes take in the view he provides lying there. His lack of reply to her text made her think he's already fallen asleep.

"Of course," he mumbles. "Come to bed."

His voice is whiny and he behaves like an actual child, he knows, but he can't help it. He wants to sleep, and he wants to sleep beside her, feeling her warmth against his skin. That's the only way he can.

"Let me get changed first," she starts towards the closet, when a grunt of pure displeasure sounds from him along with the thump of his back as he falls into a lying position once more, making her glance back at her boyfriend. "What, can't wait a single minute?"

"No," he protests, pouting . "I've been waiting for hours."

His accent comes forth stronger when he's sleepy, and she can't help but smile adoringly upon hearing it. He's just so cute.

"Okay, fine, you'll get one kiss," she gives in. Charles resembles a lost puppy and she's sure he knows that's her weakness. She can't ever say no to anything when he looks like that.

So that's how she finds herself crawling into bed, trying to get as close as possible to the boy without causing damage to her dress. He grins, as much as his tired facial muscles allow, awaiting her lips touching his own. His pout becomes even more apparent, right until the moment he finally gets what he wants. His goodnight kiss. It's soft, slow and just so full of love it makes both their hearts flutter.

Then she caresses his cheek gently, whispering a barely audible good night, sleep tight to him, before moving back off the bed to disappear in the closet, leaving Charles to think about how he'd happily convince her again of going out if it means she'll come home to him, looking so radiant, properly buzzing with energy, eyes shining, hair messy but still looking so breathtaking. It's obvious how much it meant to her that she had this night out. He made her happy with telling her to go out with her friends, and he didn't regret it, despite all the miserable hours.

By the time she finishes her night routine and walks back into the bedroom once more, he's fast asleep, quiet snores filling the silence of the room. She bites into her bottom lip to keep in the giggle threatening to burst out, and with a heart full of adoration and a head slightly dizzy from the drinks she's had, she gets in bed beside him, snuggling up close to him, revelling in the feeling of his arms instinctively finding their way around her body even when he's sleeping.

He truly only waited for her to come home and give him a goodnight kiss to finally be able to fall asleep.

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sanjisboyfie · 4 months

Text

to help me sleep at night just random individual headcanons from various places of my brain (did it on my phone if typo ignore or u eill explode)

m!reader

if suguru is smoking and you come up to him:

option a: you smoke too, he lights your cigarette up w his lighter, cupping his hand over the flame to make sure it doesnt go out before your end is properly lit, OR he makes sure you have yours in your mouth, before leaning in towards you (his is in his mouth) and pressing the two ends together to make yours light off of his end, OR, he just insists on you two sharing the one hes already smoking, smirking as hes got infinite amount of indirect kisses lined up for him now

option b: you don't smoke, so he immediately stomps it out on the ground and blows the last hit he took into thr opposite direction of you so you dont ahve to smell it/smell like it.

satoru really loves embarassing you two in public, especially in his teen days. out of nowhere, really erotic noises would come from him - obviously unprompted and unprovoked - and he'd just start obnoxiously moaning your name...so fucking embarrassing. its like hes got the humor of a middle schooler. like youre in the arcade playing games w each other, he loses, and then he starts shaking the poor machine and jolting his hips back and forth AS IF hes getting railed when obviously hes FUCKING NOT and screaming "eugh!! uAgh!! HARDER [NAME]!! FUCK" and youre just trying very hard to get him to shut the fuck up

another satoru headcanon, loves gushing to u abt his lil nerd findings. when you were in highschool tgt, he would have you sit in front of him on his bed as he pointed to all the different mechanjcs his gundam figurine (bc he deffo collected them bye its ltr canon) has and going all nerdy by making silly noises like "pshhh! pfooo! baam!" as he makes them dance around in front of you. you just let him indulge you because hes honestly adorable whenever he does get rlly into it and not at all an annoying piece of shit, like he usually is. he might even rock ur bodies back and forth as hes doing all the sound effects too before setting the toy down and jus peppering kisses all over your face and neck. awww the little shit is being cute.

erm erm guys lemme cook w the one piece boys rq.

TRAFALGAR LAW...thats the headcanon.

ok obvs jk. but just imagine laws hands (gigglegiggle) and how theyre always in conract w u. mans cannottt keep his hands to himself. but nooo his hands needs to touch skin or else its not even worth it???? his fingers will slither beneath your shirt and grip onto your pelvis, or they'll go below your waistband and just run up and down your hipbone. if hes coming up from behind you his personal favorite is grabbing the back of your neck with his COLD ASS hands and watching you jump in genuine UNCOMFORTABLENESS and him jus laugh at u. then he kisses the spot he touched, covering the cold sensation w his warm lips. orrrr how about how he literally tugs you around w his hands. idk smth like pulling you inby yourbelt loops and forcing you to sit on his lap, no matter whos w u guys. or how hes always got his hand in yours so hes guiding you places/forcing you to stick near him

luffy gulp. luffy gulp gulp. the absolute sweetest sweetheart. probably loves kissing a lot. when u guys first started dating the only kisses hed accept were if u guys both looked like ducks and your lips were pursed to heaven and beyond. he thought it was rlly cute and liked how it felt. a very smiley teethy kisser if ykwim. 99.9% of ur kisses end up with him grinning ear to ear so youre basically kissing teeth stp but its ok hes babygirl it ok. luffy wants kissed for every single little thing. you gusy woke up? kiss. you guys r gonna eat breakfast? kiss. you guys r about to take a bath? kisses in the bath r fun!!!!! luffy is a kissing enthusiast. give him kisses wtfffff

tbh zoros a biter. like bro definitely bit kids when he was little. but MOVING ON FROM THAT. i mean: hes the type to bite as a form of affection. ABS IF U CANT SEE THE VISION IDC he definitely does. he sees your arms and thinks hmm i shd try eatin that in a very unserious way so he bites it when its in front of him and u genuinely look st him as if he has rabies. then he jus shrugs and ignores it??? which hello why is ur teeth imprinted in my skin rn ur jus gonna ignore it. if you guys r cuddling, he bites your bicep lightly to wake u up because hes too lazy to speak words. zoro rlly is "i no energy word bite yes" like dawg it does NOT work like that. bites your fingers sometimes when u hold hands....then licks it better when youre abiut to dcold him. the thing is this is all v nonchalantly done. like he rlly doesnt see how odd this is so he just does it and then cotninues on as if it isnt lowk v odd and abnormal. bites a lot. (he a freakazoid) dont let him rest his hesd between your legs for nap time he will definitely bite the inside of your thighs and that hurts like a bitch. next thing yk hes biting too close and taking off ur dick. do not risk it w this man.

#male reader #jjk headcanon #satoru headcanon #suguru headcanon #luffy headcanon #one piece headcanon #trafalgar law headcanons #satoru male reader #suguru male reader #trafalgar law male reader headcanons #luffy male reader #zoro headcanons #roronoa zoro x male reader #roronoa zoro headcanon #zoro male reader

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deviouz · 10 days

Note

OKAY SO LIKE idk if you take requests anymore but I need this done so bad and I love your writing so like imagine Jason Todd being adopted and raised by Catwoman and the reader by Batman as robin like a girl robin and basically Jason needs info or wtv and he defeats the reader in a battle or something and handcuffs her and like seduces her for it and reader's usually had super high morals and stuff but she's like simping over him and melts for him practically but idk something like tht like cat women and Batman but roles reversed but yea

Totally get if this is like weird too much though lmao

here’s a lil drabble while i make my way through other requests <3 thank you lovie!! also, jason’s name didn’t really come up, so i guess you can imagine it as whoever? i did write with jason in mind though!! ;; soz

role reversal !

“Come on, I know you can spit it out. The old man can’t be that important to you.”

It was hard to fight off the embarrassed blush as you jerked your wrists from behind your back, the cold bite of steel a painful reminder of the predicament you had found yourself in. The fight was long and drawn out, having left both of you breathless for a while before your captor had gotten the upper hand. It was times like this you really wished you had paid more attention to your father’s teachings about how to get out of precarious circumstances as this one.

How the hell were you supposed to dislocate your thumb and slip out of the handcuffs again?

Being Robin had given you quite the ego. It hadn't really occurred to you that getting captured was a possibility. Batman had shown you every trick in the book on how not to get caught.

Your opponent was as sly as a fox, though. He was quick on his feet, definitely hard to defeat. It was when you had the upper hand, or believed so, that the rug was quickly pulled out from under you, sharp smile and all.

Silence would be your best friend. There was no way in hell you were going to divulge any information that could be used against either yourself or your family — you’d sooner die than allow that to happen.

It was when he had made way to pluck the black mask shielding your eyes did you move, head jerking to the side while a noise of disapproval escaped your throat.

“Don’t touch me.”

He kneeled before you, lips curled into a smirk as a hand trailed from your knee to the middle of your thigh. Your suit was thin, meant more for agility than anything. It was nothing compared to the protective kevlar of the Batsuit. Stealth was your strong suit, and it turns out lingering touches from a man clad in a catsuit was your kryptonite.

“Don’t be like that. We can have fun! I promise I’ll make it worth your time,” he practically purred, voice smooth and intoxicating. “Just tell me what you know.”

Had your heart always beat this fast? Did he drug you? Maybe it was the lack of sleep finally catching up, the deprivation rearing its ugly head at the worst possible time.

“I thought I told you not to touch me,” you quipped back with a clenched jaw. Hands balled into fists and eyes narrowed, you were a sight for sore eyes. “How about you take these cuffs off and we go for a round two, hm?”

He had the audacity to giggle like it was the funniest thing in the world. The hand on your thigh began to inch upwards once more.

“Darling,” God, did that sound pretty rolling off the tip of his tongue, “any round two that we have will be somewhere with some nice booze and a bed, and maybe with soundproof walls depending on how loud I can get you.”

You were stronger than this, surely. Anything to protect Gotham and the people inhabiting it. You wouldn’t lose your nerve to a man with pretty words knelt before you.

“I can give you what you want, you know. Think of it like a trade; you give me the information I need, and I’ll have you screaming my name for all of Gotham to hear. Fair?”

As his touch began to grow more bold, warm hands slowly parting your thighs as he moved in between them, you knew you had to act fast. Resolve could only last so long, especially when coupled with a nighttime job known as being Robin — you were long overdue for something devious and a long nap.

Mustering up what little restraint remained, your foot raised to kick him back, momentarily leaving him a breathless heap of muscle and suave on the ground before you.

“You really don’t listen well.”

#rahhhh unedited bc it’s 5:30 am and i need to sleep #putting this in the queue so more people see it tho ig #idk man #i’m sleep deprived and delirious #also??? imagining big beefy jason in a catsuit had me feeling some type of way i cannot lie #dhsiwkdnfn anyways #. . . my fics 💌#. . . dc 💭#. . . jason todd 💭#. . . queue can’t afford me 🪻#jason todd x reader #jason todd #dc x reader

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defectivevillain · 11 months

Text

this broken design, ch5

summary: “Dr. Lecter?” You blink a few times, convinced that you’re dreaming. The man’s gleaming eyes and concerned expression seem a bit too realistic to be conjured by your sleeping mind, though. You’re not sure if you’ve ever seen him look worried. You quickly decide that you don’t like it.

“Hannibal, please,” the doctor responds nonchalantly. You stare at him in utter confusion. Just what is happening right now? You thought you were dreaming, but this feels a bit too vivid. “What are you doing out here?”

read from the beginning here! [this won’t make much sense, otherwise]

[ao3 version]

notes: I privated my ao3 account so that only registered users can see it... since all the ai stuff has been going on and I'd rather be safe than sorry.... I'm not sure how many ppl follow with the series here on Tumblr, but I figured I'd post it here too, in case any of you don’t have an ao3 account... [I posted this a bit ago on ao3, so apologies for the tardiness]

the gif above is so funny. the lil head tilt is killing me, idk.

warnings: panic attack, self harm (digging nails into skin), franklyn having zero boundaries

You’re in Hannibal’s home again. You really need to have more self-preservation—you’re practically a gift-wrapped murder victim here. Although, he hasn’t killed you yet. Maybe you’ll be fine. Perhaps you aren’t as rude as you thought you were. The thought amuses you.

Inexplicably, as you’re speaking with Hannibal, he asks you to accompany him to the opera. The request is so unexpected that it takes you several moments to realize you heard him correctly. Hannibal stares at you expectantly and you take a deep breath.

“You realize I don’t know the first thing about opera,” you remark apprehensively. “Surely there are far better choices than me.” Doesn’t he have acquaintances that are more suited for this type of outing? You’re certain you would look extremely out of place amidst the typical visitors. Surely, Hannibal knows that he will put his reputation at risk by bringing you along. You try to convey those sentiments in the eye contact you’re currently maintaining with the man, but he doesn’t seem dissuaded in the slightest.

“You are my friend and I want to spend time with you,” Hannibal states easily. You envy his ability to be so straightforward with his thoughts and feelings. “Is that really so strange?”

“I suppose not,” you frown. Fond of breaking doctor-patient boundaries, are we, Dr. Lecter? You dispel the thought. Admittedly, from the first moment you interacted with Hannibal, you knew he would be more than a psychiatrist. You’re happy to consider him a close friend now.

“Are you amenable?” Hannibal then asks, just before you can zone out and lose focus.

“When is it?” You ask, despite knowing that you don’t have much going on this week anyway.

“Tomorrow night,” Hannibal answers. You raise an eyebrow.

“Rather late notice,” you say, if only to make him sweat a bit. Of course, Hannibal’s perfectly crafted mask remains in place. “Did your date cancel on you?” Hannibal’s eyebrows furrow and he crosses his arms over his chest. You decide to take pity on him and stop messing around.

“I’m just kidding,” you interject with a grin. It’s kind of fun to see how much you can push Hannibal around. You get the feeling that no one really questions him. It’s amusing to see him scramble for an explanation, even though the effort is perfectly rehearsed. “I think I’m free; I’d love to go. You just may have to deal with my complete ignorance when it comes to opera music.”

“I think I’ll survive,” Hannibal smiles. Is he playing along? You raise your eyebrows in surprise. Admittedly, you weren’t expecting that. It’s nice to know that Hannibal can take a joke.

“Anyway, thank you for inviting me into your home again; I hope I’m not intruding.”

“Of course not,” Hannibal says with a shake of his head, as if the very thought is ludicrous.

“I invited you.” Hannibal then excuses himself for a moment and you take the opportunity to look around his kitchen. You suppress the extremely compelling urge to look through his drawers—you know what you’ll find and you’re certain you don’t want to see it. Instead, you let your eyes rove over the polished cabinets and clean counters. Just before you can lose interest, your gaze falls on the rolodex. Interest peaking, you decide to walk towards it.

It appears the rolodex holds business cards of people Hannibal has met. You idly flip through the rolodex, needing something to occupy your restless hands. A few of the names are (unsurprisingly) ones you recognize. It takes you a few moments of observation to realize just what purpose this rolodex serves. It appears this is a list of potential murder victims. Flipping through the various business cards, you don’t see a common denominator. “Whenever feasible, one should always try to eat the rude,” Hannibal had told you once. On second thought, these business cards are probably people that Hannibal has determined to be rude. You go through the names with renewed interest. A few of them are rather fancy. One even looks remarkably close to yours. You move to the next one before a breath catches in your chest and you find yourself returning to the one that caught your eye.

The business card is extremely similar to yours—same color and font. You squint at it, heart racing in your chest as you look at the name written on it. It must be another government agent, surely. You all have similar, standard-issue business cards. You just hope it isn’t any of your acquaintances. You’re expecting to see anyone from Jack Crawford to Alana Bloom. You close your eyes for a moment, before finally giving in and reading the name. It’s… It’s your name.

You stare at the card in disbelief. Where did Hannibal get your business card? It has your name, phone number, email address… It even has your office location at headquarters. You swallow past the trepidation building in your core. You can’t quite stop the choked laugh that escapes your lips. You let your guard down. You had foolishly hoped that maybe, just maybe, things would be different. You let your guard down and, now, your name rests amidst the names of current and future Ripper victims.

“Is everything alright?” The timing could not be worse. Hannibal walks in as you’re looking at the rolodex and you quickly turn around, trying to shield it from his view. You’re not sure what expression is on your face, but it must be suitably harrowed, because his face twists in concern—mock concern, your mind supplies. “You look rather shaken.”

“Yes, of course,” you answer. It takes every ounce of practice you’ve accumulated to keep the fear from your voice. You sound slightly flat, but you’re convinced that you’ve mostly concealed your true feelings. “Apologies, Dr. Lecter. I think I’d better get going.”

You can tell that Hannibal is suspicious, but you don’t give him the chance to ask you about it—instead deigning to murmur a quick goodbye and walk out to your car. You’re infinitely grateful that you had the foresight to drive yourself. You’re not sure that you would’ve had the energy to maintain your composure in Hannibal’s company.

You wait until you’re a sufficient distance from Hannibal’s home to sag in your seat and sigh heavily. You’d been growing too big of an ego. Hannibal is the Chesapeake Ripper. The two of you are friends and you foolishly assumed that your friendship gave you immunity. Clearly, that isn’t the case. You need to remember yourself, remember that the composed dinner host you often sit across from is a practiced killer. One false move and you’re dead. Once you get home, you spend the remainder of the evening in an anxious and paranoid haze. It takes you a while to fall asleep that night and, when you do, the Ripper follows you into your dreams.

The next morning, you receive a text from Hannibal—which includes the details of the opera and what time he plans to pick you up. It takes you several moments to ground yourself in reality and remember that Hannibal isn’t aware of your knowledge that he’s the Ripper. Once you collect your composure, you insist that you can drive yourself—but he waves off the suggestion and maintains that he’ll drive. Admittedly, now that you’re thinking about it, you don’t have the slightest clue what to wear. You’ve never really been to an opera performance before, and you can only imagine what the people in attendance will be wearing. You have no idea where to begin searching for an outfit. Your closet isn’t exactly the best.

Eventually, you swallow your pride and text Hannibal. He knows you’re not sophisticated, you think to yourself. Asking him for help isn’t that embarrassing. In fact, you’d rather ask and lose a bit of dignity than try to puzzle it out on your own [and fail miserably.] Hannibal is quick to respond—almost as if he had been expecting the question—and says that he’ll bring clothes for you. You immediately have several objections to that, but they fall on determined ears. You regret asking, now.

A few hours later, there’s a quiet knock on your door. You open the door to find Hannibal waiting on your doorstep, folded clothing in hand. You shake your head in exasperation and let him in. “Thank you,” you say, taking the clothes he’s extending out to you. You still feel the need to try to argue one more time. “I could’ve found something on my own.”

Hannibal looks you up and down, in a manner that makes you feel extremely self conscious. You aren’t exactly wearing the fanciest clothing right now, but that’s only because you knew you’d be changing. “Doubtful,” Hannibal remarks. You glare at him, only to find his lips twisted in that slightly amused smirk. You roll your eyes.

“I’m going to change,” You then realize that this is the first time that Hannibal has been in your home. He’s driven you many times, but he’s never gotten out of the car before. “Feel free to explore, I guess.” You’re struck with the sudden mundane feeling of shame, as you recognize how much less luxurious your home is. Hannibal doesn’t seem to mind, though, as he starts to walk around and look at things. Meanwhile, you head to the bathroom.

Once you place the clothes on the bathroom counter, you’re once again realizing that you’re out of your depth. The outfit he’s given you is extremely lavish: an extravagant suit with dress pants. Upon further examination, you realize that he even gave you an undershirt. You push aside all the strange, conflicting feelings you have about sharing clothes with your psychiatrist. Unsurprisingly, the clothes smell very strongly of Hannibal’s cologne. It takes all of your resistance not to cough once you put them on. You’re not very fond of fragrances to begin with, since they often give you headaches. But, you know you have no right to complain. It was extremely generous of Hannibal to lend you clothing, and you don’t plan to disrespect the gesture by complaining about his cologne. You put on the rest of the clothing and assess yourself in the mirror. You look rather good, you have to admit. Of course, it’s all due to Hannibal’s clothing. You take a moment to brush your teeth again before walking back out into the main area of the house, where Hannibal seems to be looking at your decorations with a keen eye. He turns around upon hearing you enter and, for a long moment, the two of you stare at each other in silence.

Inexplicably, Hannibal breaks the distance between you and reaches out. Your heart is racing in your chest but you manage to remain still. He fiddles with your collar for a moment before stepping back, apparently satisfied with his work. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“Better?” You ask sardonically.

“Much,” Hannibal remarks. “Shall we?” He holds out an arm and you scoff. Hannibal freezes and you do, too. Shit. You hadn’t meant to scoff aloud. You compensate by putting your hand on his arm and he sends you a smile that is almost… fond. You immediately disregard that notion.

The drive to the opera house is enjoyable. Hannibal is one of the few people that you feel comfortable enough to share silence with. You don’t feel the need to constantly fill the air and, so, you spend most of the ride staring out the window and looking at the trees. Before long, Hannibal is pulling into a parking space and the two of you are ascending the stairs leading to the opera house. The building is rather grand, with beautiful towering pillars and elegant statues decorating the path to the entrance. When you enter, you’re unsurprised to see Hannibal’s mask slide neatly into place.

Evidently, Hannibal has been here before, because he navigates the opera house with practiced ease. There are several people that greet him upon his entrance, and he smiles and sends them a courteous wave. You idly wonder if he truly likes any of these people, or if he merely tolerates them. As you continue to walk in, you’re brutally aware of the gazes searing into your back. You’re sure that Hannibal will be the talk of the town soon enough—you get the feeling he never brings people to these kinds of events. Indeed, he seems the type to want to appreciate art in solitude. You debate asking him once more if he’s okay with being seen with you here. Within a few moments, you’re finally in the area where the performance is scheduled to occur. Hannibal leads you to your seats—which are in one of the balconies—and you can’t suppress your thoughts any longer. Thankfully, it seems no one else has found their seats in your section just yet.

“You realize how this looks, right?” You finally ask. Hannibal sends a curious glance at you and you refuse to acknowledge how handsome he looks right now. You avert your eyes for a moment, instead watching as the people below file into their seats. “Everyone thinks that I’m… you know.” Hannibal continues to stare at you with a blank expression. Damn it, is he really going to make you explain it? You try to push past your embarrassment and remain professional. “I think they’re under the impression that we’re… dating.”

“The thought makes you uncomfortable,” Hannibal states, crossing one leg over the other. That must be why he chose these seats—he probably needs the legroom. The people below are milling about, talking with one another. You’re grateful that these seats are isolated from everyone else—there’s no expectation for you to talk to anyone.

“No, it doesn’t,” you clarify, wondering how he justified that leap in logic. “Besides, if anyone’s reputation is going to be at risk, it’ll be yours.”

“I appreciate your concern,” Hannibal says, something akin to amusement on his face. You’re not sure what he’s finding so amusing—you don’t think your statement was far-fetched or unreasonable. From the moment you walked in, you noticed quite a few people staring at Hannibal and you. They seemed to be making their own conclusions about the two of you; you just wanted to warn him. “I am not worried about my reputation.”

“You think your reputation won’t be affected?” You squint at him, trying to watch for a reaction. “...Or you just don’t care?” Your companion is silent for a moment.

“I was under the impression that I was the psychiatrist here,” Hannibal then remarks lightly. He sends you a look and you feel a momentary inkling of shame.

“Sorry,” you grimace. Hannibal’s lips quirk at the sides—a sign that he isn’t truly upset about your sudden psychoanalysis. You feel the need to justify your reaction regardless. “It’s easy to slip into the criminal profiling mindset sometimes,”

You spend the next several minutes having lighthearted conversation. It’s rather nice. The theater slowly begins to fill up until, finally, the lights dim and someone appears on the stage. To your surprise, the performance is rather enjoyable. You must be rather horrible at hiding your preconceptions, because Hannibal sends you a knowing look after the first song. You pretend not to notice the smugness radiating off the man, and instead focus on the singer. They’re quite talented, unsurprisingly. You’re not quite sure how much the tickets were, but judging from your surroundings, you’d guess they were rather expensive.

You take advantage of the brief intermission in the middle of the program to use the facilities. Once you’re finished, you move to go back into the theatre. However, there’s suddenly a hand grabbing your shoulder and you’re forcefully guided into a deserted hallway. You chance a glance over your shoulder, only to find a far too familiar patient of Dr. Lecter’s: Franklyn Froideveaux.

“Franklyn,” you remark, feeling extremely apprehensive once you recognize him. The man is wearing a three-piece suit again, but this time it’s eerily similar to something Hannibal might wear. You frown at the thought. Franklyn’s obsession with Dr. Lecter is really rather creepy. If Hannibal weren’t such a capable killer, perhaps you’d be worried for him.

“I saw you with Dr. Lecter,” Franklyn states matter-of-factly. He crowds you against the wall and you have to lean back against it to avoid touching him. The look in the man’s eyes is unnerving. It sends a shiver down your spine. There’s nothing in his irises except madness.

“Yes,” you respond, once you realize that Franklyn is awaiting an answer. You don’t tell him that Hannibal invited you, but he seems to come to that conclusion on his own.

“What did he do?” Franklyn asks. “Did he hold the car door open for you? What cologne does he wear? I have a few ideas but I can’t decide between them.” You feel your head begin to ache at his persistent badgering. You’re deeply unsettled by him.

“What’s it like being friends with Dr. Lecter?” He continues. Franklyn doesn’t even give you a chance to respond, as he continues rattling off questions. “Is he a good friend? Do you two spend time together?”

“Um-” You try to say, only for Franklyn to stop mid-tirade. His eyes quickly lock on the suit you’re wearing and you grit your teeth. This is easily one of the most uncomfortable interactions you’ve ever had, and it isn’t even over yet. You flinch as he puts a hand on your shoulder.

“That’s Dr. Lecter’s clothing,” Franklyn remarks, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. His fingers dig into your shoulder and you wince. His grip is beginning to hurt; you think you may have bruises later. “You’re wearing his clothing.”

“No, I’m not,” you try to argue.

“Yes, you are,” Franklyn asserts, not indicating that he’s hearing you or even seeing you. His eyes are glazed and it almost seems as if he’s looking directly through you. “He lent you his clothes. Why? What does he see in you?”

Ouch. That hurts for a microsecond, before you then realize that Franklyn’s opinion bears absolutely no relevance to your life. You want to speak on those thoughts, but there’s a crazed look in the man’s eyes and you decide to stay silent. Franklyn seems to take your silence as an argument itself, though, because his hand tightens on your shoulder rather painfully. You try to shove him off, but the man’s grip is unyielding.

A familiar voice calls your name from further down the hallway. You squint, only to find Hannibal walking towards the two of you. There’s an inexplicable expression on his face, and you can’t even begin to dissect it.

“Hannibal,” you breathe, unable to hide the relief you feel at his presence. Franklyn finally releases his grip on you and you reach a hand up to massage your shoulder. The man’s attention is off of you now, thankfully.

“I presumed you to be lost, but I see that notion is incorrect,” Hannibal says, his gaze flitting about your face as if looking for any sign of distress. He then looks at Franklyn, disinterest and boredom evident in his expression. Of course, Franklyn doesn’t care to notice it. He sees what he wants to see, you think to yourself. “What is going on here? Franklyn?”

Franklyn looks to you expectantly, as if waiting for you to lie for him. You instead remain silent. You know that, right now, telling the truth will unnecessarily escalate the situation. Besides, your exhaustion is starting to catch up with you and you can’t find the energy to continue the conversation.

“We were just having a friendly conversation.” Franklyn answers. Hannibal looks to you for confirmation and you avert your eyes. Meanwhile, Franklyn seems to be falling over himself in an attempt to secure Hannibal’s attention. “Dr. Lecter, it’s so nice to see you here,” Franklyn says, his voice a far cry from the manic lunacy from before. The sudden change is rather dizzying. This man is suffocating to be around. “You know, I thought this might be your kind of place. I was just speaking to your friend here…”

You place a hand on your temple, beginning to get a migraine from the sheer burst of emotions surrounding Franklyn. Your skills in criminal profiling typically allow you to get a sense of other people’s feelings. At worst, you can get a trace of what they feel. Right now, however, you feel every emotion Franklyn is exuding, and it’s enough to make your vision grainy and fuzzy. He continues prattling on, but all you can sense is the horrible flood of obsession, jealousy, and a visceral desire so palpable that it makes you nauseous.

You put a hand to the wall behind you, feeling the need to brace yourself against something. Everything in the background falls to a dull buzzing rhythm—Franklyn’s giddy conversation with Hannibal, the muted sound of the performance that you can hear through the walls. You close your eyes and beg for the torture to stop. Maybe Franklyn will take pity on you and walk away. Maybe Hannibal will lose his patience and walk away, too—you wouldn’t be surprised.

Suddenly, there’s a hand on your forearm. You vaguely register—through swirling vision—Hannibal leading you further down the abandoned hallway until he stops and pushes you into an armchair. Despite the overwhelming emotionality that Franklyn practically assaulted you with, you manage to scrounge up a rather large amount of guilt.

“Sorry,” you choke out to Hannibal. Your breathing is still a bit rough and your clothes feel incredibly constricting. You roll up the sleeves of your jacket—well, Hannibal’s jacket—and try to stammer out the rest of your apology. “Feel free to go back inside; I just need a moment.”

You place a hand over your aching temple and another on the arm of the chair. Selfishly, you think that you could use Hannibal’s support, but you don’t want to occupy his attention when the performance is still happening. You close your eyes and try to pretend that your ears aren’t buzzing. You wait to hear his footsteps as he retreats; you wait to hear an acquiescence. A few seconds pass. Instead, there’s a hand on your shoulder.

“Dr. Lecter,” you choke out, your eyes beginning to burn. You wipe at them furiously, despite knowing that the effort is futile. “Go back inside.”

“No,” Hannibal says. You can’t see the expression on his face through your blurred vision—you just pray that it isn’t annoyance or irritation.

“I’ll be fine,” you maintain through gritted teeth. You think you hear Hannibal sigh at that, but it could easily be your imagination. The man looks down at you before pressing a cool hand to your forehead. Despite knowing that he’ll withdraw his hand in a few moments, you can’t help but lean into the touch.

“I’m sure,” Hannibal remarks, pulling you up to your feet and steadying you as your balance wavers. He places your hand on his arm and the two of you walk back in the direction you came. To your surprise, when you reach the door to the theater, Hannibal pivots and leads you towards the exit. You shake your head in disbelief as humiliation, shame, and guilt battle for prominence in your chest. Before long, Hannibal has led the two of you into his car. The moment you’re in his car, you bury your head in your hands.

Everything in your vision feels harsher and sharper. You begin to dig your nails into your palms unconsciously, hoping for some means to establish yourself in reality. You don’t realize you’re doing it until Hannibal reaches out and pries your hands apart. Your hands are trembling ever so slightly and you ball them into fists.

You’re not sure how much time you spend trying to regain your composure in the passenger seat of Hannibal’s car. Dignity is a foreign concept. You’re sure the embarrassment will catch up to you later—perhaps when you’re home and have some time to think.

At some point, Hannibal begins driving. Thankfully, the roads aren’t bumpy and the ride is rather smooth. He’s entirely silent and you feel the beginnings of remorse prickling along your skin. Hannibal never asked you to explain your interaction with Franklyn, but you feel that he deserves to know what happened.

“You realize Franklyn’s in love with you, right?” You blurt out, before quickly turning your head to look out the window and avoid Hannibal’s gaze. Truthfully, you had hoped to lead into that a little bit more. Somehow, that statement was what came from your lips.

“Yes.” Hannibal responds, his eyes still locked on the road. You take the afforded opportunity to look at him, confident in the notion that you aren’t being observed right back. Hannibal seems… entirely unruffled. Then again, he always looks unbothered. You wonder if you’ll ever be able to notice when something bothers him.

“He asked me what cologne you wear,” you decide to start with. You describe how you had tried to make your way back to the theater, only to be stopped by Hannibal’s patient and led off into a secluded hallway. “Franklyn knew that I was wearing your clothes; he also wanted to know what it’s like to be friends with you.”

“What did you say?” Hannibal asks, his attention still focused on the road.

“Nothing; he didn’t let me get a word in edgewise,” you admit. You run a finger along the smooth fabric of your shirt sleeve. Unbeknownst to you, the sleeve had started to roll up on its own; you take a moment to fix that before continuing to speak. “He’s so… suffocating.”

“It seemed his presence was harming you,” Hannibal remarks bluntly. You nod in agreement. At first, the interaction was merely uncomfortable. However, once Hannibal appeared, Franklyn’s emotions hit you with full force.

“I could feel everything,” you break off for a moment. “The love, the obsession, the jealousy, the envy… It was overwhelming. That man is the darkest person I’ve ever met.”

“He isn’t a killer,” Hannibal points out. That’s true—you’ve seen your fair share of killers, with minds so dark that you couldn’t hope to find an escape. Even so, those criminals were… straightforward. Franklyn, on the other hand, is a paradox.

“I know,” you acknowledge. “Franklyn is extremely neurotic, though—arguably the worst I’ve ever seen. It’s stifling. He has debilitating control issues and a crippling urge to prove himself. He’s often a victim of his own envy and jealousy. His self-concept is… I can’t even begin to describe it.” Yet, there’s a thinly-veiled hunger in Hannibal’s eyes—he wants to hear what you have to say. You inhale slowly. Again, you feel as if you owe him for absolutely ruining his night. Besides, you’re sure that he already knows all this information anyway. Franklyn is his patient, after all.

“Franklyn is sort of… a shapeshifter, for lack of a better term. He’ll adjust and change himself to fit the situation best. When he’s in love, he’s dangerously obsessed. His unconventional actions are reassuring to him, though, because they give him a modicum of control—a control that he cannot possess over anything else.” You have a lot more that you could divulge on the matter, but you decide to stop there. Again, you’re convinced that Hannibal already knows all of that.

“I see why you’re Jack’s best profiler,” Hannibal says, finally looking away from the road to look at you. His eyes are glittering in the darkness. You roll your eyes at the unnecessary compliment, too tired to start an argument. To your surprise, when you look out the window, you realize that he’s driving down your street. That car ride had passed rather fast and within a few seconds, Hannibal is pulling into your driveway.

“We’re here,” you announce unnecessarily, grabbing the door handle and stepping out of the vehicle. To your surprise, Hannibal also gets out of the car. You squint at him in confusion, but he doesn’t seem to notice. You’re not quite sure what he’s playing at, but you’re too exhausted to figure it out. Instead of inquiring about his sudden interest in following you inside, you simply allow him to do so before closing the door behind him.

“Do you want your clothes back now?” You ask, unable to come up with any other explanation for his presence in your home. It’s not that you mind his intrusion—not at all, actually—but you’d feel more comfortable for a legitimate reason for his presence.

“If that’s acceptable,” Hannibal answers, breaking you out of your thoughts. His eyes are fixed on something on one of your bookshelves. You shake your head at his strange fascination with your living room decorations.

“Sure, I’ll go change; mind waiting here?” He assures you that he doesn’t mind waiting. You shut the door behind you in the bathroom and stare at yourself in the mirror for a moment. There are dark circles under your eyes and you look a little frazzled. Otherwise, you don’t look bad. Amazingly, you managed not to ruin Hannibal’s clothing—a feat you’re rather proud of yourself for. You settle for changing into a simple long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants. As you change, you neatly fold Hannibal’s clothing into a pile. Once you’re done, you glance at your reflection one more time. You take a half-step backwards but, before you move to leave, your eyes catch on something below your collar. You squint and lean closer to the mirror, convinced that you’re seeing things. Somehow, though, you’re not. After a moment’s hesitation, you pull your shirt collar to the side, only to find harsh marks on your collarbone and shoulder. They’re almost in the shape of a handprint and it doesn’t take much detective work to realize who they’re from—Franklyn.

That realization is not very welcome, and you decide not to think about it right now. Remembering that Hannibal is waiting on you, you grab the folded pile of clothes and walk back out to the living room. Unsurprisingly, Hannibal is looking around with a scrutinizing gaze. You walk up to him and hold out the clothes, but his back is turned. You eventually just decide to place them on the entryway table—he’ll have to see them on the way out.

“Thank you for inviting me, it was very fun,” you smile. Hannibal turns around, seemingly just noticing your presence. Just what is he looking for in your humble living room? He certainly won’t find anything of value. Furthermore, your decoration skills are nowhere near his. You can’t find a reasonable explanation for his behavior and, eventually, you have to give up on trying to rationalize it.

“I’m glad you found the night enjoyable,” he answers diplomatically. You raise an eyebrow at the stiff response. Perhaps your little… episode… had annoyed him more than you initially thought. Another apology certainly wouldn’t hurt.

“I hope I didn’t ruin your experience too much,” you wince, sheepishly shoving your hands in your pockets. Hannibal shakes his head, before taking a step closer to you.

“On the contrary, I found the performance more enjoyable with your company,” he asserts. Hannibal still looks as handsome as he did when he first appeared on your doorstep this evening—not a hair out of place. You swallow hard, before roughly shoving the thought aside—now is not the time. “I apologize for Franklyn.” Your eyebrows furrow. Why is he apologizing?

“You can’t control his actions,” you say, waving his concern off. “No harm done.” At that, Hannibal’s expression darkens. He takes another step closer, until the two of you are standing face to face. For a while, there is nothing but tense, uncomfortable silence.

“I disagree,” Hannibal says darkly, his hand resting lightly on your collarbone. Before you can protest, he’s gently pushing away the collar of your shirt to look at your shoulder. He frowns and you realize that he’s looking at the marks Franklyn left behind. If you had thought his prior expression to be dark, the look on his face now is nothing short of murderous. You feel your breath stalling in your chest, as you ground yourself in the realization that you’re standing in front of a killer with absolutely nothing to protect you. Hannibal moves to cup your cheek with a tenderness you thought him to be incapable of. His touch makes your skin feel licked with flames. Each breath you take feels labored and harsh. You swear you see Hannibal’s gaze fall to your lips for a brief moment, but you put it down to your imagination. It’s kind of late and you’re tired—you’re probably just seeing things. For a long moment, neither of you move or speak.

“Good night,” Hannibal says, a strangely determined expression on his face. His gaze keeps moving to your collarbone and you idly wish you had concealed the marks better. His hand falls from your face and he stares at you for a long moment, as if regretting your parting. You make sure to remind him of the pile of folded clothes, which he takes into his arms before turning around to leave.

“Good night, Hannibal,” you respond, opening the door for him. You watch as he enters his car and drives away. Despite the knowledge that he’s already out of sight, you feel the urge to wait a few more minutes before looking away. Finally, you close the front door and fall back against it, your mind reeling.

chapter six

#defectivevillain #Hannibal Lecter x reader #Hannibal Lecter x male reader #hannibal x reader #hannibal x male reader #hannibal x gn reader #Hannibal Lecter x gn reader #hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc

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itsjaywalkers · 12 days

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babe i miss ur rants like crazy so if u have any rant that needs to be indulged this is me indulging u <3333

this actually made me so soft.. i didn't know there was someone who enjoyed my rants so much.. i always feel kinda annoying.. i'm giving u the biggest forehead kiss in the world nonnie YOU'RE THE BEST

this being said . well

lately i've been thinking a lot about this band au i don't know if i'll ever write or if it'll just stay in my head, bc when i first started reading fanfiction i was OBSESSED with band aus and even tho i'm not that into them anymore . they make me feel very nostalgic and happy so i was like u know what . i should come up with my own. AND THAT'S WHAT I DID!!

anyways it's a dual pov, james and lily's!! they used to date, and since james is the lead singer in a very popular band, they were the it couple back then, everyone was fucking obsessed with them, said they were Perfect, peak romance, they wanted what they had etc etc. lily even sang with him sometimes when the band went on tour, bc she has a beautiful voice and all the fans kept pushing for her to join the band and sing all the ballads with james etc

but then . all of a sudden . she disappeared . not literally, you know, she just fucking ran away, without telling a single soul. she didn't even leave a letter to james, or maybe remus, who was one of her best friends. james was devastated, the band was devastated, the whole world was devastated. they went on hiatus for a lil before coming back with a very different vibe and since then . well . no one talks about lily evans . reporters try to bring her up every now and again bc they're nosy fuckers but james goes all stiff and his replies become stilted (even if still perfectly professional)

flashforward to . when the story actually starts . a new band has just debuted and it's rising to fame concernigly quick and james remus sirius and peter are going Crazy bc they feel a bit threatened and also oh would u look at that?? if it isn't sirius' estranged brother in the flesh!! playing the drums for this stupid band who's trying to compete with them!!

and if that wasn't enough !! lily finally returns to their lives............... she's also making a debut but as a soloist.............. and she's very Different from the lily they remember................... her songs are loud and aggressive and filled with resentment and very obviously about james and their relationship and james' friends. she's mean and bold and witty and everyone is Wondering if there was more to her disappearance than what they thought

it'll be jegulus and bartylily <3 and one of the reasons why idk if i'll ever write it it's bc one of the reasons why lily left is that she got pregnant and she didn't want it so she aborted and . we all know how this fandom gets about lily and motherhood lmao

anyways one of the scenes that's been plaguing my mind is this one that happens after lily and barty have started sleeping together and spending more and more time in each other's presence!! they're in barty's flat and barty wakes up at some point in the middle of the night just to discover he's alone in bed. so he wakes up and finds lily sitting at the kitchen table, notebook open, pen in hand and humming under her breath. he hugs her from behind and sees she's writing something new and they talk a lil, bicker some and tease even more, and then barty tells her she should write a song about him and stop dissing that stupid ex bf of hers bc it's getting old. lily laughs and asks him if he wants a cheesy love song and barty cackles and shakes his head and says that he'd rather have one of her dissing songs, bc they're fun and likes it when she gets all mean. besides, the press wouldn't believe her if she wrote something nice or sweet about him bc barty is always getting into scandal after scandal

lily does end up writing a song about barty, dissing him (affectionately except ppl don't know that) and when she first performs it live, she does so while just wearing one of barty's shirts and barty laughs the whole time while sporting the biggest heart eyes known to mankind

#asks #anons #bartylily

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httpiastri · 1 month

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hehe so ever since you talked about college au!pepe i’ve been… doing a lot little thinking (maybe like everyday since) so im gonna give you something to read bc YOU MADE ME THINK ABOUT IT 🫵 now you have to deal with me. hopefully this gives you some inspoooo and a lil smth to think about bc i had way too much fun just thinking ab it LOLL

FIRST OFF ure so right with sebas, chris and pepe being college besties!!! like i think instead of living in dorms, they’d definitely share an apartment together jdbdjfjdjf i tried thinking about who gets to choose the furniture and decos in said apartment but i feel like they’d be giggling at everything they see at ikea, and they’d bicker about whose choices are better so apartment decor shopping takes wayyyy longer than necessary with these 3 and in the end they probs made a google form of their choices (like couches, lamps, dining table…), make their families vote and just buy whatever the families’ top picks are 😭

and somehow, pepe SCREAMS insane pining to me. hear me out… this man is career focused. not interested in anything besides his studies, he lowkey struck me as someone who would want to be a little bit more stable on his feet before he thinks about a relationship? especially with his newfound freedom of moving away from home to live with his best friends too. sure, the thought of having a girlfriend in college doesn’t puts him off or anything but it’s not something he actively seeks either ??? it’s nice and all but he thinks spending his time studying, hanging out with sebas and chris and his other friends, and going back home to visit his family during breaks is just as nice, if not, even nicer. sebas, even more so than chris, thinks pepe should loosen up a bit and would actively TRY to set up pepe on dates after dates with the single girls in his major for like the first semester and eventually gives up because pepe would either 1. cancel on them last minute bc he “forgot he has a presentation tmrw” (he does not!) or 2. could not care less!!! the girlies in sebas major–who fell victim to his date arrangements with pepe–would glare at sebas the day after (bc of wtvr pepe did) and every time he’s like 🥲 guys? 🥲 what did i do? 🥲

that leads me back to the main point: pepe is acquaintance to friends to ??? to lovers coded. LIKEE i can only imagine him getting together and potentially entertain the idea of a relationship with someone he KNOWS. reader (or yn?!) would be friends with sebas or chris because they have classes together, or maybe yn are friends w their girlfriends bc girl power 🥺🤘🏻 and then yn became friends w sebas and chris too so now she has no choice but be dragged everywhere to their hangouts and everything bc they love her!!! (or maybe bonus reader and pepe has like 1 or 2 class together but he never noticed until now) and pepe is a little bit confused every time bc like ? why do you keep bringing this random girl to our hangouts ?? eventually he came around and just accepts that reader will be everywhere he is now bc his friends would not leave you out of a hangout plan. idk how yet but when reader and pepe’s relationship shifted friends-ish to ??? zone he’s a bit like… okay that’s weird. he doesn’t know what it is but he doesn’t like how he feels when he’s around reader anymore like how he did go from tolerating your presence to thinking about every small interactions you guys have ??? like he’s literally losing sleep over it. why does he wish for his fingers to brush yours for longer than necessary when you passed him that bag of chips ?? why is he upset because you asked mark that sits 3rd row from the front for lecture notes, like he’s literally right there, top student of the class ?? why did he offer you his hoodie when you guys’ friends are playing volleyball on a basketball court (don’t ask why and how) one tuesday night in the park nearby just because you shivered a bit ?? i can think of more but i think this is way too long already so i’ll stop here for now JDHDJFJF

up for debate but sebas looks like a kinesiology major, and pepe and chris had def make jokes about it more than necessary 😭😭 imagine sebas is like “guys, i can’t hang out my assignment is due today” and pepe is like “what? you have a curling biceps due at 11:59?” and they’d die of laughter bc. teenage boys. everything is funnier than it really is :D

- 🎀

darling. oh my GOD. this is so!!!! 😭 "now you have to deal with me" oh there's nothing id rather do 🤭

okay first off YES them sharing an apartment is so on point. istg their families would end up getting so tired of their bad taste etc that one day sebas's and pepe's sisters (ive looked all over to find info abt chris's family situation but can't find anything anywhere 😶 so if he too has sisters then they too would be there) just appear at their door for an "intervention!!!" to make sure it all looks at least a little decent...

and yn being friends with chris's and sebas's girlfriends is so 🥺😭

correct me if im wrong but i have a feeling pepe would be interested in something along the lines of maths/physics/science because i think i remember reading somewhere that he liked that when he went to school? he seems like a smart boy to me. like i feel like he would be naturally good at everything he does in school and he could've chosen anything for his major, but he wanted a bit of a challenge so he picked something most ppl would find hard. and yes like you said, career-focused and not rlly interested in much other than his studies (like he strikes me as someone who would actually enjoy studying? esp when he has to work a bit to solve something) so he definitely enjoys that part of the college life.

also he would be a bit of a popular boy (though not the type to be overly boasty about it, more like "what? me? why??"). handsome, friendly, sweet, smart.... and everyone knows he's single, it's kinda common knowledge. so when sebas goes to people and tries to set them up with pepe saying like "oh he would adore you, you're SO his type!!" they get all happy and excited because "pepe!?! im his type??!!". but then they get stood up and eventually that becomes a whole thing lol, everyone knows that he's just a little emotionally unavailable...

and maybe pepe even went through a relationship that ended a bit badly so that contributes to his "i don’t need that drama in my life, i'd rather just study and chill with my friends" 🤷‍♀️

but about his feelings for the reader.... pepe really really didn't see it coming. he's so clueless about what happened and why his feelings changed all of a sudden. why can't he focus on his studies like he used to? why does the thought of her smile cross his mind even when he's solving equations? why is he up until 4am just thinking about her the night before a super important exam?

and suddenly, it's much more likely that he agrees to hangout with the boys (instead of saying that he really has to study like he does way too often) because maybe their girlfriends will come along and maybe they'll have brought you along aswell.

and he starts doing these little things that he can't even figure out himself why he's doing them. like when he knows you're running late for a lecture you share that's always pretty much full, he puts his bag on the seat next to him to make it seem like it's occupied, so that when you make it to class, that seat just happens to be the only free seat in the entire lecture hall... or how he just happens to have a few of those granola bars you love from the campus coffee shop (he totally doesn't keep them in his bag because he knows you don't like having breakfast before your 8:30am thursday lectures and you're usually starving by the time your shared lab class starts).....

i mean ofc it doesn't take long for you to crush on him as well. in a moment of unusual stupidity (there may have been some alcohol involved), you accidentally confess this crush to the girlfriends.... and of course they tell their boyfriends, and it doesn't take long before all of them begin plotting about how to get you together. sebas wants to tell pepe instantly, but chris stops him like "no no no, we have to think this through. this can't be like one of your usual setups, this needs to be properly planned". so they start canceling plans in the last seconds but not telling you or pepe so the two of you end up alone, etc. etc. and you think they're all so obvious that you just wanna crawl under a rock and cry – but pepe is so so oblivious and has no idea. he really thinks it's all coincidences 😭

––

okay this is getting too long already but i just wanna share one other thought i had 🥲 this is ofc further down the story but one night you're all out partying at some classmate's apartment, and you drink a little much... and pepe agrees to take you home, but you're way too drunk to even remember what dorm you live in. so instead, he takes you back to the boys' apartment since it's also, conveniently enough, closer to the party. when he walks you down the hall, he's got an arm draped around your waist and you're clinging onto his shirt to even stand up straight... and when you finally get in, pepe gets some makeup wipes from sebas's room and cleans you up 🥺 and then he finds you an oversized shirt and some pajama shorts for you to sleep in. and after he's tucked you into his bed and he's about to leave, your hand reaches for the hem of his shirt.

"please don't sleep on the couch... it's not good for your back, you'll be complaining about back pains all week" (bonus points if you've already stayed over before for some reason and he let you sleep in his bed while he slept on the couch, and now you're all "you complained so much last time")

and he says "no it's fine, really-" but you bat your eyes at him and go "please? for me?" and he eventually gives in, changes into another shirt and a pair of sweatpants and gets in next to you. from there on, it's just a blur for you both... neither of you can recall how you ended up on his chest... or how his hand made its way to the small of your back, holding you against him.....

but it's especially funny because when sebas and chris come home, not only do they think it's strange that pepe's shoes are by the door ("did he come back already? her dorm is a bit away, he can't be back already can he?") – the sight of your heels a few feet away makes them freak. especially when they don't see pepe sleeping on the couch as they'd expected when having you over. and, as the nosy boys they are, they can't help but peek into pepe's room and sure enough, there you two are... cuddled up like you're something more than just a friend of a friend.....

and when you wake up the following morning, you're a little freaked because !! what are we doing !!!! but then you feel pepe start to wake underneath you and you pretend to sleep again because you can't both be awake now; then you would know you both know about this sleeping position and you'd be forced to talk about it. it's much easier if you can both just pretend like it never happened. pepe smoothly gets out of bed, making his way into the kitchen to make some coffee, but he's startled when he finds chris and sebas already in there, watching him with intrigued eyes. pepe goes like "....good morning?" acting subtle and everything, but the boys just can't hold back from the teasing. "we thought you'd bring her back to her own place?" "was that too hard of a task, huh?" & so on....

and you end up texting chris's girlfriend and beg her to bring you some clothes from your dorm, because... the skimpy/flashy outfit you wore to the party yesterday to impress pepe is not something you want to wear out in public at 1pm on a random sunday.... but wearing pepe's clothes all the way back to your dorm doesn't feel like a much better solution either 😵‍💫

—

edit: DID I NOT COMMENT ON SEBAS BEING A KINESIOLOGY MAJOR ??? wait it’s 1am so my thoughts aren’t clear rn so i can’t write a lot (about to literally fall asleep) but omg you’re SO right. pepe and chris are not letting a single day pass without making fun of him for it 😭

#trying to work out how the two of them would like eventually actually end up together...#hmmmm #pls your ideas are so 🤯 youre so smart #i love love loved this ask !!! probs my fave ask ive ever received #i love you so much #please dont hold back if you have any other ideas 🥺🥺 you'd be doing me such a favor if you shared shfkhdj #💘💘💘#re-reading this i realize that i switched between “you” and “her” sooo much when talking about yn lmaooo #college!pepe #asks!#anon!#bow anon!#🎀!#pepe marti

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guitarsolosmakemefeellthings · 1 year

Text

I had this idea for a while now but didn't have the courage to post it. (My courage comes in liquid form rn so don't look too close on spelling and all that) maybe I'll polish this a little once I am sober

I thought about Robin and Steve working in some lil bar/club as the people who book bands and whatever other acts come there. They have a lot of fun searching through the offers they get sent by artists. When they're being a little tipsy, they choose based on the looks of the artist entirely. Something along the lines of "oooh they're looking cute/hot, they can come to us".

Because the club is so small the team is pretty much like a little family. Idk maybe Nancy works the financial stuff, Jonathan obviously takes the pictures and takes care of programms and flyers, Robin and Steve take care of the artists or help Argyle behind the bar.

Lot's of the bands playing there are regular visitors. Playing there whenever they're in the area. Obviously Eddie and Corroded Coffin are one of the regular acts. They've played there almost every year since their first time and became great friends with the staff too. (If Eddie fell head over heels for the very cute guy that pretty much cared for almost all of their backstage needs, that's nobodys business but his)

In this particular case the line between professional stuff and friendship blur and more than once the Corroded Coffin guys stayed at a staff member's flat instead of a hotel. Usually they crash at Robin and Steve's apartment because they have the biggest spare room. (If Steve offers his room up for Eddie because he once complained about Jeff's snoring, that's entirely for the sake of Eddies sleeping schedule and nothing else)

Usually these days turn into a giant sleepover with random jam sessions at late hours of the night. They're all just a big group of friends having a beer or two and some weed after four of them had a great gig. Plus they pretty much see each other only once a year or so because Corroded Coffin are either touring, working on new albums or they're simply busy with their regular jobs. Sure they make a bit of money with their gigs but it's not like they're Metallica.

One year Steve gets an unexpected call from Eddie, a week before CC are supposed to play at their bar. He's a little nervous and asks if its okay if they bring along one more person to their gig, to help out with the merch stand and get a feeling forthe life on tour. Steve of couse says it's okay and tries his best not to freak out when he hears Eddie say "great! She'll be thrilled" before hangig up.

See the thing is, ever since the day Coroded Coffin played there for the first time, Steve was equally head over heels for Eddie. Sure metal was a bit different from what he usually listened, but it's not like he hated it either. Plus Eddie knew how to put on a show, capturing his fans and just make everyone have a good fucking time. He even climbed the balcony over the dancefloor once, playing a wicked guitar solo up there and nearly giving Steve a heartattack.

It didn't help that they've been flirting pretty much nonstop since CCs third visit, talking late at night when all their friends were asleep, about nothing and everything. They once or twice even made out after one too many beers, both knowing they wanted the other but neither had the courage to make the actual first step and now Steve was pretty certain Eddie found himself someone that isn't him.

By the time CC arrived at the bar, Steve had managed to pull himself together. He decided to be happy for Eddie and whoever managed to catch his heart, even tho it hurt like a bitch. Imagine his surprise when Eddie introduces him to their new merch girl Max Mayfield. As in Eddies sort of little sister. One of the things he and Steve talked about late at night was their respective "annoying little siblings" that they both were still very fond of.

After that revelation the day went on as usual, meaning Eddie and Steve flirting and earning eyerolls left and right. Robin had called them hopeless, today with backup from Max. Little do they know that it won't be hopeless for much longer.

During their last encore Eddie searches the little crowd of people for one very cute person in a way too bright outfit for a metal show, smile getting wider when he spots him. "That next one will also be the last song for today", he starts "it's a little different than our usual stuff so I won't be too upset if you leave early". That makes the crowd laugh and whistle. Eddie let's out a nervous laugh too before gripping his guitar a little tighter. "It's for someone right here in this room aand I hope I won't fuck all of this up" he says, looking over to Steve one last time before he starts playing.

And yes its a different kind of song from what he usually plays but sue him, he's in love. It's still heavy enough to make up for the lyrics he poured all of his heart into and surprisingly the fans don't seem to hate it as much as he thought. He hopes Steve doesn't hate it either. As the final notes ring out and the applause starts, he's too afraid to look for Steve again so he quickly sayes his goodbyes to the fans and hides backstage.

He knows he can't stay there forever, eventually making his way out to the merch stand with the other guys to help out Max and talk to the fans. The rest of the night happens in a blur. He's distinctively aware of giving autographs, taking pictures and eventually packing up for the night for the usual sleepover.

Steve didn't have time to talk to Eddie after the set, his brain was mush but in the best way and Argyle needed help behind the bar. He doesn't quite know how to function after such an Eddie way to confess, but apparently he does.

In the end they talk late at night again, only this time it's both of them curled up in Steve's bed and if they share a sickly sweet kiss before finally falling asleep, that's nobody's business but theirs.

#whew this got away from me #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fic #i just wanted to write a little something #then the plot bunnies got away from me #my writing

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short-black-diamond · 8 months

Note

Tehehe hi again!!

Taking a promt from the 300 follower event

(｀ω´)

One bed trope with sahed ・:*(〃∇〃人)*:・

Go crazy?! Lil kissie kiss? Hell, makeout? Go Crazy with it >:3

Also for the reader since you asked for what gender reader, either fem or nb just whatevers easier for you!! :D

(っ˘ ω ˘)っ─∈🍓

NOOOOO DON'T COMMIT SUICIDE MY STRAWBERRY

WHY WOULD YOU LIKE TO GET KILLED WITH THAT FORK

Also I think you just want me to write smut at this point, you pervert, but I can't really blame you...my heads all foggy with thoughts of him doing some stuff to me 😫

Ok I'll do it

Sahed x female reader with the one bed trope

Warnings: smut, fem!dom!reader cuz Sahed is just a silly babygirl and needs sum love, just want him to be a pillow prince, so like---sub!Sahed x dom!fem!reader , 1 % plot, 99 % smut, Sahed tries to be dominant, but folds quickly, also lots of exhibitionism

(I can write him dominating you in another request ; } if I get one, that is )

word count: 2.6 k

---

"You...only you..."

It was very funny. When you made the reservation, they said that there were plenty of bedrooms with more than one bed. You looked at Sahed, who smirked at you seductively as you stood in front of the bed, and Sahed leaned against the doorframe.

"You did this, didn't you?", you asked with a frown and in a scolding tone. Sahed nodded his head excitedly, his eyes lighting up and he put his hands in his pockets. You had the urge to bitch-slap him.

"So...there's only one bed, huh?", he said softly, his deep voice sending vibrations your way. You were slowly blushing when your mind played with the thought of all the possibilities which would occur in the next few minutes.

"S-so what...?"

"I don't know, make the best of it?", he answered with a shrug of his shoulders and jumped on the bed.

"Please take your muddy shoes off before you step into the bed...", you grumbled in dissappointment that he didn't pounce on you before you went into the bathroom to open your hairstyle.

Sahed looked at the bathroom door. He then took off his shirt. 'This is going to be so much fun...!'

After you finally managed to open the bun, your head had a spot which absolutely hurt when you make a weird pony (idk but it sometimes happens to me lol) and you massaged the back of your head with a groan.

When you looked up at the silence, you saw Sahed 'sleeping'. You were flushed. It didn't help that sahed had these nice tattoos to begin with, let alone that all his outfits suited him.

Gosh, he looked like a greek sculpture, where the top of his body was free from any suffocating cotton, letting his skin breathe, one arm slung over his eyes to cover them from the light which was still on, and his trousers suited him well. At least he also took off his boots.

You sighed as you went towards him. You knew the game. He acted like he'd be fast asleep in just ten minutes, when you knew he had insomnia (headcannon of mine) and so, you indulged yourself in a little bit of fun...

"Sahed...hey, Sahed...", you whispered before your hand landed on his knee. You felt a little hitch in his breath, your spider-like powers allowing your senses to be heightened.

You smirked.

"C'mon Sahed...wake up...", you murmured and your hand stroked his thigh, massaging it and groping at the nice flesh. Sahed's chest quickened as it rised.

"C'mon, handsome, I know you're awake...at least lemme see your pretty face, hm?", you asked softly before your hands went up, up, up, touched his groin for a moment -and Sahed gasped sharply through a closed mouth- before it kept going up to his abdomen, his chest, his neck, and then his jaw.

"You think you can keep up the act? We'll see about that.", you spoke firmly, but before you knew it, Sahed sat on top of you.

"What the hell do you think you're doing to me, woman?", he growled as he licked up your neck. You could feel his member poking your thigh.

"I just wanted to please you...have my way with you...indulge myself in a little bit of fun?", you gasped. You'd never grow used to the way Sahed made you feel.

He grunted. "Please me, huh? hm...I'd be pleased if I could make you scream tonight...", he breathed into your ear, and you whimpered. Gosh, you were always embarrassed for having a voice kink, but Sahed loved that.

"B-but the walls are very thin...!", you warned, not wanting to get a noise complaint or having everyone stare at you with knowing looks the next day.

"hm...then you'll just have to try to keep your sweet, sexy voice to yourself, gorgeous.", he chuckled before kissing you feverishly. Your hands tangled themselves in his hair, and you pressed up your thigh to meet the gentle thrusts of his hips. He moaned into your mouth sweetly before stopping and buried his head on your shoulder.

"Why'd you stop, handsome?", you asked, kissing the top of his head.

"..."

"You know that I love evey sound you make, right?", you said reassuringly, and heard a tiny "mmhmm...", from your lover.

Sahed loved using his voice to his advantage, but he didn't really prefer making such...vulnerable sounds, and it always bamboozled him that you encouraged that side of him to be shown more often in the bedroom.

You huffed. "C'mon Sahed, I wanna have my fun with you..", you exclaimed with a grunt as you pushed him off of you.

He sat up. "Sit yourself on the headboard.", and he complied.

His back was faced to the headboard, and the pillows behind him secured him from the hard wood. He took your hands as you sat yourself on his lap.

You started kissing him lightly, his hands holding your waist in a soft grip, and with each kiss, the tension grew again, and your kisses also grew needier.

He kissed you back with twice the vigor you showed him, and he moaned into your kisses. Then, he licked your lips, asking for permission. Once you opened your mouth, it was over.

Sahed got the upper hand. He french-kissed you like there was no tomorrow, one of his hands going up to hold the back of your head in order to not push you away with his passionate pecks, and you moaned deeply at the way he held you and handled you.

His other hand gripped your hip tighter, and you circled it around his groin. He groaned.

"N-not so fast, doll...!", he sighed, and you giggled. "Just wanna please you, that's all...", you murmured as you did it slower, relishing in the feeling of having his hard-on dragged across your pussy and you mewled quietly at the nice feeling.

Outside, you two heard the loud voices of Rainah, Kamille and Julia. They seemed to have a pillow fight while you were about to get your world rocked by Sahed. Lucky you.

A slight whimper escaped Sahed at a particular motion you made, and you smirked at his alarmed, flustered face. "Got'cha."

And, well, you just kept making that movement, closing your eyes as you focused on the feeling of his boner rubbing against your clit and his whines, moans and whimpers against your ear.

"Mhm, just like that, baby...moan for me, handsome,", you panted, and your core throbbed in more want as it grew hotter.

Sahed gulped as he tossed his head back in pleasure. You also took this chance as revenge for what he did to you a few weeks ago.

You licked a thick stripe up his neck, reveling at the shudder he made as you gently bit at his neck. He gasped loudly. His body grew hotter and hotter with each peck, suck and lick you gave his neck.

Sahed moaned once you popped off of his neck, having created a sweet hickey and his breathing got ragged. You sighed contently.

"...are you close, my love?", you asked as you kept up with your ministrations, enjoying Sahed's blissed out face. He nodded dreamily with a dumb "u -uh-huh..!", drool coming down his chin as he felt his orgasm approaching.

You just licked away the drool before your tongue invaded his mouth again, his mushed brain too far gone to think of anything else than him cumming any moment and you, who was just so perfect and nice and sweet and pretty and hot and sexy and everything he's looking in a woman.

It honestly felt like you two were teenagers again, and not some decade or century old people. The sounds Sahed made shouldn't be heard by anyone else, yet here you were, in a dark room which only got lit up by the moon outside with the window wide open, Kamille, Julia and Rainah just next door. It felt like you two shouldn't be doing this. It felt like it was forbidden, like you could get caught any moment, like-

Sahed arched his back, his eyes scrunching shut in pleasure as he whimpered your name as he came. He shuddered, and you hugged him close as you kissed everything of his body you could reach.

"What a good boy you are...cumming so prettily..", you murmured as you kissed the side of his face. Sahed panted, then he leaned back with a blissed out face before he furrowed his brows.

"...It feels weird."

"Cumming in your pants?"

"Yes. Sorry love," Sahed said before lifting you up quickly and putting you down a bit away from him as he stood up and took out his pants.

"Nice ass, baby.", you flirted, and Sahed chuckled with a blush. "Yours looks better."

"That's debatable."

Sahed sighed again as he looked at his pants, which were now in his hands. "...Should I just let them soak in some water?"

You stood up and took his pants. "Relax, baby. I want you to lay in bed, okay?", you spoke before you gave him a lil kiss and went to the bathroom to attend to his trousers.

When you came back, Sahed laid there, sideways, facing you, one hand holding up his hand as the other one rested on his hip. With another erection.

However, what caught your eye the most was the dark red rose he had between his teeth as he wiggled his eyebrows. you giggled at his dorkyness before taking the rose from his lips, kissing them, smelling the rose a bit before putting it into a nearby vase and taking off your clothes as well.

Sahed's eyes widened as his mouth turned upwards in excitement. After you were done, you sat yourself next to him again and kissed him passionately, and he moaned into your lips.

You pushed him again, but instead of his back stumbling against the headboard, his head met the pillows, as he laid there, looking up at you with biting his lip.

You hummed. "mmh, I could just eat you, Sahed...why do you have to look so tasty, huh?", you asked, your hands raking up and down his thighs as you sat between his legs, and he propped himself up with his elbows.

He flushed when you asked him that, but he wanted for you to touch him, jerk him off, suck his cock, or ride him, anything...! He started to breath heavily again, his legs twitching when your thumbs pressed into his inner thighs gently, and he looked up at you with a desperate expression.

"P-please, ____...! please...", he moaned when you smiled at him. You loved that he'd even moan at the sight of you, but you wanted to tease him a little, I mean, it wouldn't harm anybody, right?

"Hm? Please what, my love? C'mon, use your pretty voice."

Sahed groaned in frustration. He knew you'd give everything he'd want, he didn't even have to ask, but it's just...he was very impatient, and talking became such a hassle at the moment, that all he could do was whine as he fell back and closed his eyes when you patted his abdomen, only curtly, briefly touching his angry red tip.

sahed gave up. "Please touch me, ____! Touch my cock, please!", he exclaimed, but you quickly put your hand over his mouth. Everything got silent.

Even the pillow fight stopped. Sahed's eyes widened with a heavy blush as he looked out of the window with an alarmed expression.

"Did you guys hear that?", Julia -you guessed- asked.

"Huh? I think I heard something too...", Kamille spoke. Sahed grunted when you touched him now of all times, your thumb swirling around his dick as you put away your hand from his mouth.

Sahed shook his head in fear when you started moving your hand up and down, your other hand, which was holding his mouth shut now massaging his testicles. He whimpered.

Rainah spoke this time. "Me too...hey, maybe we should go and check out the nearby circus Anthonn told us about! Maybe they have something we don't?", the female Ah'kon asked, earning cheers from Julia and Kamille.

Sahed sighed in relief before he gasped sharply when your mouth gently bit his tip. "n-o..no noo...no, please--d-don't!", Sahed whisper-yelled -he begged desperately- as he tried to take his dick away from your mouth, but you suddenly deep-throated him, and he was gone, falling to his back from his sitting position he had made when he heard the girls next room.

He moaned in delight when your tongue massaged the base of his shaft before raising your head and sucking his dick upwards, making his toes curl as he arched his back cutely again. "Ah...ah, ah..._-____...! ...s...so good...please...d-don't stop...!", he sighed and whimpered as you kept bobbing your head slowly.

You could honestly fall asleep right then and there. Sahed's cock was something you didn't mind having in your mouth. Quite the opposite. You loved having his dick down your throat as you could please him, and he also fit snugly, not bothering anybody. You were basically killing two birds with a stone.

You also felt the cool air on your slick which went down your thighs as you got wet from the noises your mouth made, mixed with Sahed's whimpers and moans, and you were slowly starting to shake. Your clit was throbbing in pain and attention of Sahed's member rubbing itself against it and then the walls within your small vagina, but it'd all have to wait until Sahed would tell Rainah off, who suddenly knocked on the door.

"Hey, Sahed, ____! Would you like to go to the circus with us?", she asked. Rainah didn't know what happened on the other side of the door, and as she was met with silence, she grew curious.

'hm...they can't have fallen asleep in just half an hour...they were very chatty before-?!', she thought as she put her ear on the door and finally heard it.

Faint moans, some sheets rustling -Sahed kicking his legs around in pleasure- and also your squelching noises. Rainah blushed deeply in embarrassment, scolding herself for listening in to you two having an intimate moment.

When the footsteps of Rainah finally retreated, you began to suck harder, and even latched onto his balls as you jerked him off violently. Sahed gripped the sheets tightly, his knuckles turning white as he kept gasping and moaning loudly at the suddenly multiplied amount of pleasure you gave him within the span of a moment.

"_-___! I-I might c-cum! Ah, w-w-wait...ngh...wait! Ah,....ahm...wait, ____, please!!", he cried, tears of pleasure clouding his vision as he held your head close to his pubes, but his words had a different meaning.

It was like his brain was fighting against his body. You found it cute. But, you just kept on pleasing him until he came again.

Sahed groaned this time, as he thrusted his hips upward into your hot and warm mouth, and you gagged a few times, before he spilled his semen down your throat.

You felt his dick softening against your tongue and you swallowed his cum before gently latching off of it. You panted as you looked down on him. He came twice now, and it seemed like he was slowly getting tired. He was breathing for air as you laid down next to him and hugged him close to you.

"how are you? Do you need something?", you whispered softly as you stroked his blonde bangs from his place, kissing his third eye lovingly on its eyelid.

Sahed only blushed as he buried his nose and mouth in your chest, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist as he tried to calm his breathing.

"You...only you..", he said softly and you giggled. "Alright."

...

after some time, you felt him getting hard again as you were about to doze off, and when you looked down at him with a deadpan did he only bury his face deeper into your boobs, while shamelessly humping your thigh.

'Jeez...how much stamina does Sahed have?', you thought before Sahed sat up and started kissing you.

"Mind if we have a third round? And I'll please you this time."

---

Heyyy my dear readers, I hope you liked that, because I am normally jackshit at writing smut. But I hope this was okay!

If you have other requests, or requests with smut or explicit content, just ask away!

Read you guys in the next post!

#marionetta #marionetta x reader #sahed x reader #julia x reader #sahed x reader smut #sahed x reader fluff #sahed smut #sahed is just a big babygirl #tramuatized baby #i read the latest chapter and I'm NOT happy #I wanna give Sahed all the kithes in the world #sahed x you #sahed #sahed marionetta #sahed is such a handsome guy #sahed x female reader fluff #sahed x female reader smut

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moreespressoformydepresso · 3 months

Note

Your brutally honest thoughts on Lonnie (and her family) in the Descendants franchise?

My brutally honest thoughts are that she’s a plot device turned love interest who can be summed up as “badass girlboss swordgirl”. And Mulan reference. I like Lonnie, but she doesn’t really have a character arc for me to talk about nor is she a big enough character to really need one. She’s the start of Mal’s little hair business in the first movie and inspires Jane to rip her dress, which is a joke for exactly one scene. It’s a show of Jane doing things she normally wouldn’t to fit in. She’s copying others’ behavior, which leads to her copying Audrey’s mean streak later on, which gets the hair reversed, which makes her grab the wand. The only thing Lonnie really does in the first movie is come into the kitchen and cry over the idea that villains don’t love their kids (because that “in their own way” is bullshit and all five of them know it). Second movie we have a sexism plot and Lonnie is a badass swordsman, and implied romance between Jay and Lonnie because it looks like they went to the cotillion together, but nothing’s for sure. She’s an actual character now, but her story is just a smaller-scale version of her mom’s. Without any of the stakes, I guess, but it’s high school. They’re both denied a chance to fight (in a war for someone who will absolutely die vs in high school fencing) and they get in anyways by hiding that they’re a girl. Lonnie wears a mask and beats people at fencing before revealing it’s her, Mulan does a full-on undercover mission. I would’ve liked it more if they gave Lonnie a parallel to another fairy tail, since mini-Mulan feels a little uninspired. Switching it up would be fun, like Evie and Dough having a role reversal sleeping beauty when their parents are from SW&7D.

Li’l Shang… idk how to feel about the name I can’t not see this as a bad rapper name. It reminds me of lil’ kleine, specifically one song of his that makes me cringe. Why did he have to go with that nickname instead of literally anything else? Because his actual name is Li Shang Jr. which is very inspired and creative, Disney :/. At least Gaston has his solar system sized ego as an excuse, and the fact that he’s from France. Every Western European country I know of picks whatever name they think sounds the best (I don’t know enough about Eastern European naming conventions to say anything definitively). Mulan and Li Shang are Chinese, though. From what I know Chinese spend a lot of time and care on picking a name, I doubt they’d just tack Jr on it and call it a day. Now that I’m done with the interesting stuff… Li’l Shang accidentally sets up a training date between his little sister and Jay in the novel, and that’s the only significant thing he does. He’s there to help Jay with R.O.A.R as assistant coach and I guess to throw in that joke about asians always being better at stuff since he’s gonna go back to Northern Wei to launch his hip hop career and rule at the same time.

#descendants books #descendants #disney descendants #li lonnie #li shang jr #character analysis #I guess #not much character to analyze tho #anon ask #descendants jay

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wsknbfanaccnt · 1 year

Note

Hi beautiful!!

I was wondering if you can write a drabble, or whatever you want, about weird habits of the Gom+Taiga (maybe Takao also? He's such a cutie).

That would be fun!

Love,

HI VESPER HEHEH

this was legit so fun to make lol

Enjoy~!

H/Cs of Their Weird Habits/Traits

Akashi Seijuro

bites his nails

especially when he's anxious? he's also a perfectionist so it kinda makes sense

he likes talking to Yukimaru (his horse)

he's actually very soft and caring for his lil white horsey

Id think hes the mom of the GOM

he has everything everyone needs even if it's smth insane idk

"Hey does anyone have cotton pads?"

this bitch pulls a container from his pocket

"Here, keep the container as well."

"What? I only need one-"

"I insist."

he also paces when thinking

sometimes he accidentally paces Yukimaru and he be like "Oh- we've been going around in circles this entire time... Sorry, boy. I have quite a lot on my mind lately..."

Idk why but I always thought him a heavy sleeper

he despises getting up in the morning

Kuroko Tetsuya

he always orders the same food at a restaurant

like bro pick something new

I don't think he likes trying new food very much

to the point that he'd become a regular customer

"Hello! Welcome to [store name]! Ah, it's Kuroko-kun!"

"The usual please."

"Coming right up!"

this guy also has imaginary friends

he's invisible right so when he wants to talk to someone and no one can hear him he talks to his 'imaginary friends'

it's a habit that he picked up in childhood

its kinda sad now that i think about it LMFAO

Midorima Shintaro

this guys personal hygiene is INSANE

he will spend like an hour in the shower making sure that every single square inch of his body is clean

he also likes wearing mens perfume

idk he just seems like that kinda person to me

he also refuses to leave any food on his plate

even if he's like really full

you will not see a single grain of rice left on this man's plate

istfg he'd lick it clean if he could

he sleeps with a lil bear stuffed toy every night

his first lucky item ever

and he kept it ever since

Kise Ryouta

Ik this is kise but somehow he gives me the vibes of planning everything down to the smallest detail

"So this is our itinerary for today! At 1:00 we can take a little lunch at Maji Burger, and we should finish at around 1:50, and we should go to the bathroom before leaving so 10 minutes is enough for that I think... and then-"

reminds me of Monica from Friends lol

originally I thought this for Midorima but then I imagined Kise being all enthusiastic about his plans and I was like yeah that sounds about right

this guy likes to whistle too

to songs

and sometimes you'd catch him whistling to a BTS song while in the men's locker room

Aomine would tease him for it but Kise always says that he likes Kpop

Aomine Daiki

Going off of Kise's, he thinks its funny and cringe that Kise listens to Kpop

Even though he listens to Kpop himself

he'd never admit it

so he's afraid of bees right

canonically he is

he always lets out this shrill scream

literally the only time he screams like a girl

oh and he breaks things when hes angry

the only thing he hasn't broken before in his house when he was angry is his mai-chan magazines LMFAO

Murasakibara Atsushi

so he's canonically tone deaf

which means of course he likes to hum a few songs every now and then

no one knows what the hell he's humming

Himuro always knows tho SOMEHOW

"Murasakibaracchi, what are you humming this time?"

"Ehh... I forgot the title of the song... the chorus kinda goes like-" *hums random notes*

Himuro goes "Oh is that California Girls by Katy Perry?"

"Yeah... That one. I like the music video..."

the GOM just looks at Himuro and him with shock

the GOM eventually gave up on asking tbh

and

he LOVES Disney

Kagami Taiga

this is weird but idk he sniffs frequently?

I think this is a habit that he picked up in America

I have no idea

also he can't drive

like literally his hand-eye coordination should be better because he'd a basketball player but when it comes to driving it just all goes away

Aomine tried to teach him at one point

lets just say Aomine was more scared than he was when he met Kuroko for the first time

also you can almost never understand what he's saying when he's typing

he doesn't even have autocorrect which idk if thats better or worse

"hy fo we habve pporactiove tiduay"

"...what?"

he often resorts to voice messages instead

Takao Kazunari

100% adrenaline junkie

loves skydiving and hiking and traveling to very risky places

but he CANNOT for the life of him ever go to a historically haunted place

he also has a playlist in Spotify for every single mood he's in

like literally he has like 10+ playlists

Can be wild and normal

He has playlists from "Driving late at night" to "sewing machine vibes"

what even is that Takao

also he loves video games

he owns litearlly every single major game released since like 2001

he has finished every single one of those games and has a shelf to stack them

Playstation, Xbox, Wii, Nintendo PC

he has all of them

Bonus:

hes AR60

mains Hutao and Ganyu, depending on his mood

Hutao's highest crit is 2 million

he's also soft for bennett

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storyofmychoices · 8 months

Text

Blades 2 Inside Choices Blog: Blades of Light and Shadow 2

We’re so happy to be back in action with the gang we know and love! Where does Blades of Light and Shadow 2 pick up after the first book’s ending?

Emi: I will say that we don't pick up where you're expecting.

Kathleen: Unless you were expecting to get hucked out the back of the plot truck and onto the action highway at 80mph. (Fury Road theme plays)

Lil: (is overtaken by the Two Towers theme)

Emi: But rest assured, our original four love interests are back and dealing with their own challenges.

Lil: And they’re definitely going to need help with those challenges whether you’re romancing them or not. Though we support all variations of ‘mancers here. Mono-, multi-, and necro- .

Emi: Also they get some new looks that can best be described as "sleeves are B.S."

Jay: Don’t forget “badass pirate coat important”.

What kind of new main characters will we meet in the sequel? Or perhaps, any new love interests?

Jay: There is a strange but familiar hooded figure…whose hotness level was of great discussion.

Lil: He’s very constructive with his feedback. And a monster from Book 1 returns, but not in a way you expect.

Emi: I think we all know I'm obsessed with Valax. I mean, she's a badass purple lady who only has one sleeve. Obviously that makes her my wife.

Tom: EMI YOU HAVE TOO MANY WIVES!!!

Kathleen: Idk I'm still mad that hot scorpion lady didn't win the monster contest.

Lil: Sky whale supremacy how dare.

Kathleen: Okay I am excited about the dwarves and goblins though. New dwarf friend is just A+ chaos babe and I love her.

Emi: Honestly though, my fave character is the one who's "head empty, no thoughts, falls over a lot."

Making this sequel has been a labor of love. Does the book team have any must-tell stories/bloopers during production?

Jay: There was an accidental floating dwarf? And too many battles with code. Writers, please don’t do it to me again. I cannot take it. The while loop will win.

Kathleen: During one of my editorial passes I had to give Emi a note like "Okay when we first meet the Big Bad maybe we should use that moment to establish that she's really imposing/scary instead of just going off about how hot she is."

Emi: I may have made too many Aerin memes that are now weekly traditions for our team.

Danielle: I was instructed to design a character with “Vision as a hotness bar” as a guide, I ignored them and used Jeff Bridges instead 😏.

Jay: Danielle also came up with some incredible filenames, my favorite being “tentacle_monster_buff”.

Danielle: It’s accurate, is it not?

Are there any elements that you are particularly proud of?

Tom: The Shadow Realm was fun to make! Think the Upside Down, but more purple. And to make all the awesome new weapons and armor work with the outfits took 150 unique assets! You’re welcome.

Danielle: My first full book!

Lil: The lore guide for Blades was 60 single-spaced pages before we started adding things that came up during active production. I’m really pleased with how much actually ended up being discoverable in the book itself, so be sure to explore every nook and cranny of Morella and beyond! Because they are filled with beauty and chaos.

Emi: I cannot tell you how many spreadsheets we made to keep track of things. I mean, the outline alone was 100 pages!

Jay: My code built 😭. And that my production planning got it to you a little earlier than y’all had anticipated hehe.

At the end of the first book, we seemed to have wiped out the forces of evil for at least a day or so. What kind of dangers will we face in the second edition?

Lil: Evil never sleeps y’all. It gets its coffee from Aerin.

Kathleen: (Aerin, walking up to the counter): "I have a large non-fat birthday cake latte with caramel drizzle and four shots of espresso for (squints at label) ...Emile?"

Lil: In all seriousness, you’re really getting it from all sides in this book. There’s rival factions, shifting leadership, societal upheaval, and monsters. So. Many. Monsters. (Thank you for giving us the Shadestalker, by the way. Can’t wait for you to meet the beefy boy.)

Kathleen: One cool scary thing about book 2 is that THIS TIME, IT'S PERSONAL (like instead of you and your buds racing against bad guys to collect the magic things, you've now got a villain single-mindedly hunting you down so she can steal your <REDACTED> for use in her evil plans).

Emi: Kathleen may have called me out for it but our Big Bad is hot! Both literally and figuratively!

How much do you love QA?

Lil: SO MUCH.

Emi: Pour one out for our poor QA folks who have had to test what is the most complex book we have ever done! You are the real heroes!

Jay: QA peeps are my saviors!! Their work alone cures my anxiety.

Kathleen: Gawd I would be lost without QA my grammar is a disaster

Erin: Everyone on the Blades team is so wonderful to work with. I also tested Book 1, and to be able to contribute to Book 2 means everything to me. It’s absolutely a labor of love.

We know that years of hard work and passion went into this book. What would the Blades team like the readers to take away from this sequel?

Emi: So Kathleen and I actually helped to brainstorm the entire Blades world back when it first came into being, so it felt like coming full circle to be back and expanding it in new and fun ways. I was already in love with all of these characters and they're even closer to my heart now. I can't wait for you all to see what we've come up with!

Jay: Y’all better like it! This book has taken years off my life. *lies down on floor* (But seriously, we’re as excited about Blades 2 as all of you and hope that it brings as much joy to you as it did for us to make. I think the best word to describe the team as we wait for September 1st is giddy.)

Danielle: I hope you like our art :).

Tom: If you don’t, please keep it to yourself, artists are fragile :’}

Lil: I was one of the few people who was new at Choices when I began working on this book, and it was truly an honor to see this thing come together. These are the minds that brought you The Crown & the Flame, The Cursed Heart, Wake the Dead, and the first Blades. It was amazing to go from watching them work as a fan to taking this epic journey together.

Kathleen: THE REAL VILLAIN WAS THE IMPERIALISM WE MADE ALONG THE WAY

Lastly, how much does the team love Aerin?

Kathleen: I DON'T love Aerin he KIDNAPPED my WIFE.

Danielle: Which one…

Emi: Aerin is my sweet baby boi with a little dose of evil. He should be protected at all costs but also really needs to go to therapy. I live for the angst of him and Raine though. It's so juicy.

Danielle: Aerin has caused me, personally, a lot of pain.

Lil: Really, one of the fun things about the book is you can decide how much pain Aerin causes you. Unlike us.

Jay: He haunts my dreams and my Wednesdays.

Danielle: Livid and sad and livid and sad

Thank you team for taking us through the fantastical production journey of the Blades of Light and Shadow 2! We can’t wait to dive in and meet up with the gang. Launch day is so close!!

Thank you, readers, for supporting us and our book teams!

<3 The Choices Community Team

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