#Flo would claim it was also love at first sight but also she was much more practical the next day like. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yelenasdog · 3 years

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something like “i know” (ben hardy x fem reader)

genre: FLUFF FINALLYY

summary: sometimes making tiktoks with ben doesn’t always turn out the way you plan, but by no means is that a negative.

words: 1.4k

warnings: age gap (not dramatic, reader is like, idk, 23 maybe?), kissing, i think that’s it but lmk!

a/n: hi! so i’ve had this idea for ages and wanted to write it so here it is! the end of it is far sappier than i planned but meh whatevs. also ty to cici and eva for helping me pick the moodbard hehe. k enjoy!

☆❂✧

Having an age gap was never something that put a large damper on their relationship. The conflicting personalities of the two balanced out quite nicely, and the similarities that drew the two of them together in the first place (apart from the aforementioned) made sure they never had a lack of interesting things to talk about that weren’t generational.

Until TikTok, that was.

Now of course, there were some other millennials on the application, but Ben just for some reason couldn’t get it.

“Yes, I know that, babe, but why do they do dances?”

“They lip sync too!”

“But what is the point?”

And that’s how the conversation would end. Every single time. So Ben would sit on the sofa, watching as she danced about in front of the small screen, occasionally playing some cruel (ok, that’s a large exaggeration, they’re somewhat mean, at best) joke on him, claiming it was a trend on TikTok? That just did not sit right with him.

He didn’t remember hearing “mean pranks” in the initial description of the app when she had described it to him all of those times.

Ben tried to tune it out, he really did. He would wear his headphones, blasting Zeppelin as loud as he could while reading scripts or a book. But somehow, those catchy little tunes always managed to worm their way into his ear, being stuck in there for days and days on end.

He would waltz around the house humming Megan Thee Stallion, the occasional Flo Milli or underground indie artist also making an appearance often.

He was pouring a cup of coffee for himself one Tuesday morning in the kitchen before going on a run, Y/n watching fondly from afar. Rain was softly rolling down the windows, barely coming to a cease. The air was chilly, and fog floated through the early morning sky, a sense of calm washing over their shared South London home.

The room was kept somewhat warm, though, from the fireplace that she had insisted the house had to have, which Ben ended up being grateful for on more than one occasion. He looked over his shoulder briefly, smiling at the sight of his beloved wrapped up in his seafoam jumper, watching him move about contently.

As he turned back to where he was working on filling the two mugs in front of him, he began to oh so quietly sing the lyrics to what sounded like a familiar tune off of the app. Watermelon Sugar, maybe?

“Ben? Baby?”

He turned, his eyes growing wide and his hands flying to his hips as he leaned against the countertop behind him.

“Mhhm, yeah, w-what’s up, babe?”

She couldn’t hold in her giggle at the sight of her boyfriend’s red face and disgruntled appearance, one of his hands now scratching casually at his gold locks.

“What’re you singin’, pretty boy?”

His blush only increased at the nickname, eliciting another laugh from his girl.

“Y’know, just somethin’ I heard on the radio the other day.”

She immediately recognized his lie, he refused to listen to the radio, only using either Bluetooth or the aux cord, his music taste too pretentious for mainstream stations. She didn’t mind, though, always finding it quite funny how much of a music snob he was.

But rather than call him out, she only nodded and smirked, standing up and bringing her phone with her over to the windowsill where she usually filmed her TikToks, pulling Ben along with her.

He sipped from his mug, eyes slanted as she scrolled through something on her phone, various sounds emitting from the speaker.

A little smile showed up on her face when she (apparently) found what she was looking for, leaving her to set the phone down, allowing a video under the sound to play on repeat.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on?” He asked, ever so cautiously, taking a step towards her. She walked towards him, engulfing him in a hug which he (yet again) cautiously reciprocated.

“I am going to teach you a TikTok dance.”

He had to do a double take.

“Come again?”

She pulled on the elastic waistband of her sweats, grabbing Ben by the arm.

“Come on, I know you wanna. And if nothing else you’ll do it to make me happy.”

He rolled his eyes, slightly irritated at her confidence and that she was so incredibly correct, he would do mostly anything to put a smile on her face.

“Yeah, you’re right.” He grumbled, moving to stand next to her.

She clapped once in excitement, joy flooding her entire body. The music started up again, but this time, she began to dance along to it.

“Ok, so just try to do what I’m doing, alright?”

“No! Not alright, can I just stand here, I think I should just stand here-“

“Ben, it's literally not that hard, 8 year olds can do it!”

“Well, I’m an extremely confused 29 year old man, thank you very much!”

And that’s basically how the next 15 minutes went until she finally gave in, allowing Ben to stand behind her, occasionally doing a little move of sorts. The two were in a fit of giggles now, struggling to keep enough composure for long enough to get even one successful video.

“Benjamin Jones! This is the last one, okay?”

He put a hand on his stomach, both of the pair attempting to catch their breath.

“Yes, yes, right okay, got it, last one.”

The little timer button counted down, the sound echoing throughout the property.

The music then started, and she could barely keep a straight face for the 15 seconds. Bored of the routine, but never of her, Ben decided he would grab her and throw her onto the sofa, as payback for all the “TikTok pranks” she would pull on him. He waited for the perfect time to strike (one where she wouldn’t hopefully be too infuriated), restlessly shifting from foot to foot.

Nearing the last few seconds, he made his move. He swooped forward, a high pitched shriek falling from her lips as he wrapped his strong arms around her waist, running and jumping onto the couch, crushing her. He rolled off quickly, and she moved to be on top of him, her hair wildly astray. She sat up, straddling his thighs with a bright smile plastered on her face.

“You little jerk.”

He only smiled boyishly in response, a lovesick gaze set in his eyes.

The song was still playing on repeat as she leaned down, positioning her hands on either side of his head in order to place her lips gently upon his.

“That’s your reward for putting up with me today, Jones.”

He scoffed, taking her by the shoulders and bringing her to his chest. She looked up from where she was now comfortably lying, meeting his homey emerald gaze, his eyes like sea glass that had washed up on white sands, waiting to be rediscovered.

“I feel as if I deserve something more for all of that.”

“Oh, do you?”

He hummed and nodded, closing his eyes. She reached up, placing another peck on his plump lips, before scurrying away to retrieve the phone. He sat up rather quickly at the sudden loss of her body weight, smiling at the sound of her laughter coming towards him.

“Ben, look, it turned out so well.” She managed to slip out before basically throwing him the phone. A grin erupted on his own face soon after, along with the hearty chuckles to match.

He made some commentary on how wonderful it was, before handing her back the device. She moved so she was once more essentially laying on top of Ben, the screen in both of their views.

After sharing a few more laughs over the video, she captioned it and posted it, throwing her phone to get lost in the couch cushions as the likes and comments began to roll in.

She looked up at him once more, and he met her gaze, as he always would, bringing a hand up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear.

It didn’t leave her cheek, resting there and lightly caressing her skin. The two were most serene then, almost appearing as two felines that had decided to nap during the morning showers, most comforted by each other and the steady sound of the droplets as they pattered.

He was whispering now, the rambunctious energy of the room fading into a much more tranquil and stolid vibe, wrapping the two up like a warm embrace.

“Y’know I really would do anything to make you happy, my love.”

She closed her eyes, taking hold of one of his hands.

He then heard her mutter something like “I know”, and all was well.

☆❂✧

it was fitting for the theme. but anyway i hope u enjoyed, pls reblog and like if u did :) go drink some water, eat some protein, and take an electronics break!

love you bunches! xx hj

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lets-talk-appella · 6 years

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Come Home to Me (part 3/3)

Summary: I told you, it’s going to be brutal. It’ll be okay, though, I swear.

Thank you guys so much for all the wonderful feedback I’ve gotten on the first two parts. I never imagined it would turn into something like this. I seriously appreciate it. You’re the best.

Part 1

Part 2

Word Count: 2.8k

AO3 and FFN

Beca’s funeral is closed-casket, of course. It has to be.

The flowers are nice, Chloe thinks. BFD had donated black roses, which Beca would have claimed to hate but would have secretly loved. Beca’s father had sent a simple bouquet of lilies but hadn’t bothered to show up at his only child’s funeral; he’d never quite forgiven her for marrying another woman. It makes Chloe’s blood boil, but she imagines Beca’s hand smoothing between her shoulders and she’s able to remain calm. Jesse and his wife, flown in from LA, also brought flowers, a stunning arrangement of blue orchids. And, of course, each of the Bellas had contributed various plants, and, in Lilly’s case, a nice windchime.

The turnout (despite the absence of Beca’s father) is good, though Chloe knows Beca would have been uncomfortable. She never did like being the center of attention. Chloe has met pretty much everyone Beca has ever worked with, including some pretty high-profile music artists, though she can’t bring herself to be excited about meeting the celebrities. Not under these circumstances. She’s also met Beca’s favorite high school teacher, Mr. Winchester, and Beca’s best friend from grade school, Rachel. She was surprised to see Kimmy Jin, Beca’s freshman year roommate, but she appreciates it nonetheless.

All the Bellas are in attendance; they’ve been staying with Chloe the last few days. Aubrey had pulled Chloe into a hug the instant she’d arrived at the house the night of the accident, Stacie and Flo not far behind. Amy had arrived the next morning, more somber than Chloe had ever seen her, along with Lilly and Cynthia Rose. Jessica and Ashley had come that afternoon, as had a stunned-looking Emily. Normally, Chloe would have been overjoyed at the reunion. Beca certainly would have been. As it is, she can barely bring herself to look at them. They only remind her of what she’s lost.

Chloe would give anything to forget what Beca had looked like the last time she’d seen her. She desperately wishes her final memory of Beca had been how she’d looked before work on the morning of the accident; a little tired, but smiling, happy, and alive. But no. That would be too easy. Instead, her last impression of her wife’s appearance is Beca’s body lying on a hospital bed, her entirely covered in gruesome burns from the explosion. It’s seared into her mind forever. At first, Chloe hadn’t even recognized the face of the person she loved most in the world. She’d briefly wondered if the hospital had somehow made an awful mistake. But then she’d caught sight of Beca’s titanium wedding band on the stranger’s ruined hand, and she’d known.

She’d known when it had happened, actually, the instant that Beca had been torn away from her forever. She’d felt it, as though someone had ripped open her chest and extracted her heart. It had come from nowhere as she’d been prepping their dinner. She’d thought she was having a heart attack, sure she was about to die, until the agony had eased to a sick ache. That’s when she’d seen the news coverage of the accident, first on her phone, then on the TV. She’d known then. She hadn’t needed the call that had come half an hour later, the one that dropped her to her knees and wrenched a scream from her throat.

She can’t stop glancing at the casket. Beca would have been furious at the small size of it. A part of Chloe waits for Beca to push open the lid with a muffled curse and sit up to stare at her audience in confusion. She supposes that would scare people, but she wouldn’t mind at all. She’d have Beca back.

Eyewitnesses to the accident had told the police (who had then told her) that Beca had been trying to pass the gas hauler when it’d tipped. She’d been stuck behind a slower-moving car, though, unable to finish passing when the wind caught the hauler. It had careened sideways into her, wobbling and jerking around until it eventually tipped to fall directly on her car. The witnesses swore that there was nothing Beca could have done. It had all happened so fast. At least Chloe can take some comfort in that Beca didn’t suffer.

Chloe wants to be anywhere else in the world. She wants to run from the funeral home and never look back. She wants to put as much space between herself and the shell that is left of Beca in that box. She wants to hide from the blur of faces around her, including those of the Bellas. When she looks at them, all she sees is the one that’s missing.

Well, no, Chloe doesn’t want to be anywhere else; she wants to be one place specifically. Chloe wants to be at their (her) home, in their (her) bed with Beca curled up in her arms. And that’s the one thing she can’t have.

Instead, she stands right next to the too-small box containing the love of her life and individually greets everyone waiting in the long line to talk to her. Aubrey stands at her shoulder, waiting to catch her if she collapses – again. She talks to so many different people, all having some different connection to Beca’s life. And yet, they all say variations of the same thing. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Beca would have scoffed at them. Isn’t there something more original they could come up with? she would have muttered to Chloe. And, normally, Chloe would have scolded Beca gently, reminding her that no one really knows what else to say. But for once, Chloe is inclined to agree with her grumpy wife; “sorry” doesn’t really help her.

She doesn’t want their apologies. She wants her wife back.

She tries to deliver her eulogy, but all she can manage is, “She is – was – my everything. I don’t know what I’m going to do, because she’s my Beca.” Her voice breaks and she can’t bear the looks of uncomfortable sympathy her audience sends her, so she gives up and sits back down. It doesn’t really matter what she says to these people anyway. Beca knows (knew) how she feels (felt? No, feels, always) so that’s all that matters.

For their own eulogy, the other Bellas deliver a rendition of “Amazing Grace,” leaving an empty space where Beca normally would have stood during a choreo-free performance. Beca would have said it was excessive. Beca would have had a lot to say about her own funeral.

Chloe doesn’t sing with them. She can’t. It hurts too much.

Music had brought her and Beca together. They’d sung together in a shower the second time they’d met. Over the years, Beca had become all the music Chloe needed in her life.

Chloe hasn’t listened to music since Beca died.

She knows she’ll never sing again. Not without the other half of what used to be a duet.

Time moves strangely. One moment, she’s listening to the Bellas perform, and the next, she’s standing outside, watching from the front row as Beca’s casket is aligned over a deep hole dug in the ground.

She’d never imagined it would happen like this. She’d always thought they’d go together, or at least within hours of each other in their old age. It feels perverse, that she should be so young and healthy and alive while Beca is being permanently laid to rest. Something has gone wrong in the universe. They were never meant to be separated like this. Chloe knows in her soul that it’s wrong for them to have been pulled apart.

She would trade places with Beca in an instant if she could. If it were possible, if she had it her way, it would be her being lowered into the quiet, dark hole while Beca stands, very much alive. But then, she realizes, it would be Beca in pain instead of her. That’s not any better. The only acceptable option would be for them to have gone together.

Beca’s casket hits the floor of the hole with a muted thud. Chloe absolutely despises how lonely it looks down there. She desperately wants to lie down with Beca, to keep her company forever. At least they’d be together, then.

She’s so tired.

Nothing sounds more appealing then climbing down in the hole with Beca for a good long rest.

So, she does.

Chloe walks forward, sits down on the grassy edge of the grave, not caring that her dress is getting dirty. Without so much as a backward glance toward the faceless people behind her, she pushes off to land delicately on top of the casket. She crouches, laying across the top. She likes it better this way. She can’t be bothered to move, not even when Aubrey tosses the first handful of soil down on top of her and Beca. She doesn’t care at all.

Chloe’s eyes fly open and she bolts upright in bed with a gasp. She coughs violently, tasting dirt in her mouth. Her face is wet; she’d been crying in her sleep. Still coughing, she glances at the clock on her nightstand to see that it’s 3am. The accident with the gas hauler had been the previous evening, which explains the nightmare. She instinctively reaches a hand to her right, to Beca’s side of the bed, only to find it cold and empty.

Her stomach lurches violently and she stares at the open space uncomprehendingly. Beca’s gone. Dread washes over her and she fights against her rising panic. No. It had just been a dream, that’s all, just a stupid nightmare, it isn’t real, Beca isn’t dead, there was no funeral, no, Beca is okay, she’s just –

Thud. “Ouch! You fucker…” comes a soft voice from outside the bedroom, followed by the sound of footsteps.

Chloe’s rapid breaths slow and relief floods her veins when Beca enters the dim room, rubbing her elbow.

“Bec, you’re okay,” she breathes, dropping her head to her hands.

“Yeah,” Beca replies, “I just whacked my arm on the bathroom doorframe.”

Chloe laughs once shakily and says, “No, I meant… you’re okay.”

Beca, maybe picking up on the seriousness of Chloe’s tone, moves back into bed quickly to peer closely at Chloe’s face. Her eyes widen, and she reaches out to trail her fingers softly over Chloe’s cheek. “Hey, you’ve been crying. What’s wrong?” she asks, her voice full of concern.

Chloe sighs and leans into the touch, letting her eyes slide closed. “It’s nothing,” she replies. “Just a stupid dream.”

“It’s not nothing,” Beca insists. “It upset you. Do you want to talk about it?”

Just thinking about the horror of the nightmare brings a fresh wave of tears to Chloe’s eyes. She scoots forward to wrap her arms around her wife, needing to feel Beca securely in her arms. Despite the awkward side angle, Beca holds her tightly, leaning into her in response.

Chloe exhales slowly, trying to calm herself. She whispers, “In my dream, you didn’t make it out of that accident.” She feels Beca stiffen in her arms, only to relax and squeeze her more tightly.

“It was awful,” Chloe continues. “God, your funeral was the worst. So many people were there, all the Bellas and Jesse and even Kimmy Jin, but your dad wasn’t and the girls all sang ‘Amazing Grace’ and –”

“Hold up,” Beca interrupts, pulling back to look her in the eyes. “Kimmy Jin? Really?”

“Yes,” replies Chloe, confused.

Beca frowns. “That’s so weird. I didn’t think she liked me.”

Chloe gapes. “That’s not the point –”

“And ‘Amazing Grace’? Seriously? That’s just cliché, and frankly somewhat excessive.”

“Beca –”

“And oh my God, at least tell me they gave me an adult-size coffin, not some stupid little –”

“It’s a casket,” Chloe corrects automatically, “not a coffin.”

“Still,” Beca emphasizes before falling silent.

Chloe stares at her in amazement. Then, finally, she feels a grudging smile lift her lips and Beca smiles tentatively back. Before Chloe knows it, she’s laughing quietly as Beca leans to press their foreheads together. And just like that, Chloe’s dream doesn’t seem so scary anymore. Beca has always known what to do to calm her down.

“Of course you complain about your own funeral,” she murmurs.

“Well, yeah,” Beca replies. “You only get one, you know? Better make it halfway decent.”

Chloe snorts and shakes her head. She married a complete weirdo.

After a moment, Beca says more seriously, “I’m sorry you had that dream. I promise, it’s not going to happen anytime soon.”

Chloe nods, feeling better already. “Why were you in the bathroom?” she asks as she wipes her eyes, wanting to change the subject.

Beca leans against the headboard, fluffing up a pillow behind her lower back. “Why do you think?” she deadpans.

Chloe shoves her playfully before leaning to mirror her position. Once she’s settled, Beca reaches out to drape an arm over her shoulders, drawing her into her side.

“Actually,” Beca begins slowly, making Chloe look at her, “I’d just woken up from a bad dream of my own. About the accident. What it looked like. I had to walk around a little, get it out of my head.”

Chloe’s breath catches. She’d seen live aerial footage of the crash, and that had been horrific enough. She can’t imagine what Beca must have seen, so close to it and the loss of life it brought.

“Bec, I’m so sorry…” she trails off, rubbing a hand soothingly over Beca’s stomach.

Beca looks over at her with a tight smile. “It’s okay,” she shrugs. “I’m one of the lucky ones.”

Chloe tilts her face up to press a soft kiss against Beca’s lips. She feels pretty lucky, too.

“And actually,” Beca says, looking away again once their kiss ends, tapping her fingers absentmindedly against Chloe’s shoulder, “the whole thing has me thinking… we never really know how much time we have, do we?”

Chloe nods slowly, uncertain of where Beca’s going with this.

“And, well, going along with that,” Beca adds with a deep breath, “I’d like to talk to you about maybe, one day, possibly… starting a family?” she looks back at Chloe, nervousness shining in her eyes.

Blinking numbly at her, Chloe can only stare. She’s pleasantly surprised; she’d thought she’d have to work up to the topic of kids with Beca, and yet here Beca was, bringing it up first.

“Or, uh, you know, if that’s what you want?” Beca asks, thrown by Chloe’s silence.

Chloe snaps out of her daze and nods rapidly. “Yeah,” she says breathlessly, “I do want that. You just surprised me.”

Beca grimaces at her. “I know, this isn’t how I’d planned on bringing it up, but…”

“No, it’s okay,” Chloe says quickly. “I was actually going to talk about that with you tomorrow. Well, today. I was going to ask you if you wanted to try for kids.”

“Really?” Beca’s face brightens even in the darkness of the room. “You were?”

Chloe nods with a small laugh. It’s scary sometimes, how much they’re on the same page.

“Well, great!” Beca beams – actually beams – at her, only to turn away to stifle a yawn. Once it passes, she looks apologetically back at Chloe and suggests, “But, um, can we maybe have that more serious conversation when we’re both properly awake?”

With a grin, Chloe says, “Yes, of course, sleepy head,” before leaning to again capture Beca’s lips in a kiss. She’s never going to get tired of kissing her wife.

Chloe had intended to keep the kiss light and brief, but to her surprise, Beca traces her lower lip with the tip of her tongue. Instinctively, she parts her lips so that their tongues can meet gently. Before she knows it, she’s leaning back with Beca hovering over, a knee positioned high between her thighs.

“I thought you were tired,” she says teasingly as Beca drops to kiss her neck.

“I was,” Beca growls against her skin, making her squirm. “But now, I think I’d rather practice our baby-making, since we both want kids.”

Chloe wrinkles her nose, doing her best to ignore the hand creeping under her shirt. “You do know that’s not how this works, right?”

“Are you actually complaining right now?” Beca asks, rocking forward into her once.

Chloe’s body tenses at the motion. “Nope!” she gasps, moving her hands to Beca’s back. “Just pointing out basic biology.”

Beca doesn’t respond, only rocks into her again.

Chloe lets her eyes slide shut and reaches to pull Beca down and into a searing kiss, her nightmare fading from her mind. Beca is safe, and that’s all that matters now.

She can’t wait to begin planning for a new addition to their little family.

#bechloe #bechloe fic #my writing #come home to me #beca mitchell #chloe beale #beca x chloe #pitch perfect fanfiction #i'm so sorry #but also it ends okay #i'm not about that angst life #they deserved better

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freedomfighterposts · 6 years

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Mornings. Reyna Avila Ramirez-Arellano x Genderless Reader.

Reyna had long ago found that she had a love/hate relationship with mornings. She hated them because it meant that she was forced out of bed to do menial tasks like; allow extra toilet paper for cohort three or break up a fight between a legionnaire and a Huntress of Artemis/Diana. However, Reyna had grown accustomed to forcing herself out of bed for these tasks. She simply loathed this part of the morning, however she hated with a passion the other aspect of the morning. It meant having to leave her precious baby. Yes, the great, unemotional Reyna Avila Ramirez-Arellano had fallen for someone. At first the Roman Praetor had been worried about falling for the dangerous game of love again. But after eleven months of peace, adoration and a surprising amount of surprise kisses, Reyna decided that she had made the right choice. Reyna’s deep seeded hate for mornings appeared one morning as she woke up. Reyna’s eyes fluttered open slowly, a light yawn escaping her plump lips as he legs stretched down to the foot of the bed. The gilded purple covers of her bed felt soft and warm at Reyna’s touch. In this moment, everything was perfect. Birds chirped outside in the warm summer breeze of July. A cloudless sky gave way for Apollo’s sun chariot to spread its rays to the mortal world below. Reyna’s body was warm and lazy, despite her usually ever-present professional exterior, Reyna was often a big teddy bear behind closed doors. A lazy smile formed on the Praetor’s face as she felt someone shuffling beside her. Yes, it had been the first night where Reyna and (Y/n) had decided to sleep together. But the pair wholeheartedly agreed to not perform any extremely intimate acts. The most the two did was kiss… a lot. Reyna felt as if she was addicted to (Y/n)’s kisses. Their full lips felt naturally soft against Reyna’s. Reyna had once tried to slip her tongue inside (Y/n)’s mouth, however this resulted in the Daughter of Bellona receiving the silent treatment for the rest of the week. Reyna didn’t hold it against the child of Hercules though. (Y/n)’s body curled into a fetal position, trying to stay as warm as possible. (Y/n)’s back was pressed against Reyna’s side in an attempt to draw heat from her. Reyna’s smile turned from lazy, into one of adoration as her eyes lingered on (Y/n)’s form. (Y/n) had worm a pair of pajama bottoms with a theme of Lion King. The pair had gotten quite a laugh out of that. (Y/n) also wore a pajama shirt of just plain silver. Reyna however, was more outgoing and comfortable with their relationship. True she had felt guarded and against it at first, but the child of the God of Strength had worn her down. Due to this, Reyna simply wore her undergarments to bed, much to the embarrassment of (Y/n) who wouldn’t stop blushing. But now, in the morning, Reyna wanted nothing more than to simply lay here with (Y/n). However, there were still things that needed to be done. Especially after Gaea’s attack on the camps. Even several months after the seven Heroes of Olympus had defeated the Earth Mother, things were not back to normal. Jason’s incessant badgering for new temples gave Reyna more migraines than Octavian. Usually, Reyna slept next to the edge of the bed so she could quiet literally, roll out of bed in the morning. But she had wanted to be next to (Y/n), and now she was in the middle of the large, king sized bed. (Y/n) turned around, still sleeping. (Y/n) wrapped their arms around Reyna’s waist, a smile tugging at their lips as (Y/n) laid their head against Reyna’s exposed back. Reyna allowed herself a small smile, she bent down and kissed (Y/n)’s forehead gingerly before flinging the covers off herself and stepping from the bed. What Reyna did not prepare for, was (Y/n) waking up. “Reyna?” (Y/n) mumbled sleepily, rubbing their eyes lazily. (Y/n) had felt the disturbance from Reyna flinging the blankets away. “Sorry baby, I didn’t mean to wake you.” Reyna’s soft, melodic voice made (Y/n) feel warm inside. (Y/n) reached out with a hand and clasped Reyna’s hand. “Don’t leave me” (Y/n) whined dramatically. Reyna bubbled out a laugh but silenced herself quickly. “I can’t stay my Flos Pulcherrimus. I have work” Reyna’s heart shattered into a trillion pieces when she saw the tears forming in (Y/n)’s eyes as a pout wobbled on her face. (Y/n) sniffed, trying to keep the tears in. “Fine” (Y/n) spoke, not daring to say more. (Y/n) rolled over so that Reyna was facing (Y/n)’s back. “Flos Pulcherrimus. Don’t be like that” Reyna spoke softly, worried that if she spoke any louder (Y/n) would disappear before her eyes. “Sadness doesn’t look good on you.” But (Y/n) still refused to meet Reyna’s face. Guilt and sadness hit Reyna like one of Jason’s lightning bolts. The pain of making (Y/n) so sad was worse than anything Reyna had felt before. She would gladly face against Orion again if it meant that (Y/n) would be happy. However, Reyna is a duty first love life second kind of girl, so with a bitter sweet kiss to (Y/n)’s cheek, Reyna left the cabin she and (Y/n) shared while at Camp Half-Blood. The Heracles cabin at Camp Half-Blood wasn’t the most loved cabin nor was it the most looked after. Most if not all Demi-gods detested the God of Strength. Even (Y/n), who was normally the sweetest and nicest person around, didn’t like the immortal son of Zeus. Its foundations had been made haphazardly and it was only at the command of Chiron that the children of Vulcan and Hephaestus began reworking the cabin so that (Y/n) wouldn’t nearly be killed by a falling beam in their sleep. Reyna knew what Heracles had done that really ticked (Y/n) off. Usually, the gods and goddesses claimed their children on their thirteenth birthday with a holographic projection of their symbols above the child’s head. Grover had brought (Y/n) to camp when they were fifteen years old and it took the anger of Perseus Jackson and several other key Demi-Gods to finally find out who (Y/n)’s father was. Unfortunately, no one was exactly happy. Especially after (Y/n) learnt from Percy and Annabeth about what Heracles had done to Zoe Nightshade. The temple of Hercules at New Rome also remained deserted. It reminded Reyna of the Neptune temple before Percy had been made Praetor. Old, moldy fruits and nuts sat at the pedestal, cobwebs covered all the corners and pieces of stone crumbled from the lack of attention. Reyna knew it was a sore subject to talk about Heracles in front of (Y/n) so she stayed far away from the subject. Whenever someone talked about how Hercules did something bad, (Y/n) would do nothing to defend him. What Reyna did not know, was that as she left (Y/n) alone in bed that morning Reyna would be in some deep trouble for a long time. Reyna walked into the mess hall at exactly twelve O’clock. After a morning full of paperwork and boring talks with architects and even a talk with Chiron regarding the Mars/Ares inter cabin competition. So, when it was time for lunch. Reyna was more than happy to eat something with (Y/n). However, when Reyna walked over to (Y/n)’s usual spot she found no child of Heracles in sight. Confusion crossed over Reyna’s face as she sat with her friends, the Heroes of Olympus. “Yo, Reyna what’s cracka lacking?” Leo asked cheerfully, Reyna didn’t acknowledge the son of Hephaestus’ childish remark. “Have any of you seen (Y/n) recently?” Reyna as the plate before her filled with sandwiches. “Not that I can think of” Offered Annabeth from beside Percy and Piper. “Oh, I saw (Y/n) at the archery range this morning” Offered Frank. This made sense to the daughter of Bellona, because (Y/n) hated using the naturally inhuman strength gifted by Hercules. Instead (Y/n) favoured the bow, which Reyna knew she disliked because even Jason Grace had been impressed by the way (Y/n) had used an imperial gold combat axe. “Yeah, although (Y/n) did seem really upset. And that’s putting it mildly.” Piper added “Yeah, they just left me hanging this morning.” Percy mumbled as he ate a double decker blue pizza. “Yeah but we all know how… delicate… (Y/n) can be” Hazel defended and her words got Reyna thinking. “Delicate… Oh, by the gods.” Reyna cursed herself silently as she stood, taking her plate of sandwiches with her. “You’ll have to excuse me. I must fix a mistake” With that, Reyna sped walked out of the Mess hall. The Praetor of the Twelfth Legion briskly walked through the newly formed Greek/Roman camp. She passed hundreds of Demi-Gods as she made her way to the beach. Reyna knew that (Y/n) simply adored the ocean. Apparently, (Y/n)’s mother was an open water swimming coach and so (Y/n) and their mortal family often went swimming in the ocean. Reyna’s eyes scanned the golden beach carefully, waves crashed gently across the shore. A evergreen tree grew at the edge of the beach, where grass turned to sand, its branches stretching over the waves. Hidden below the branches, Reyna saw the hunched over form of (Y/n) (L/n). Reyna felt the sand shift beneath her feet as she discarded her sandals. The soft, foaming waves caressed Reyna’s toes as she sat down next to (Y/n). The pair sat in silence, Reyna simply content with being next to (Y/n). “I thought you had work to do” Reyna heard (Y/n) mumble beside her. In response, Reyna scooted closer to the child of Heracles. “I did, I still do. But, I noticed you weren’t at lunch so I brought you some food” (Y/n) looked down at the plate of sandwiches nestled in the sand at her side. The child of Heracles picked a sandwich filled cheese and ham, with only slight hesitation (Y/n) began nibbling on the food. After a while all the sandwiches had been eaten by the pair. “I’m sorry for this morning (Y/n)” Reyna spoke sincerely, not wanting to hurt (Y/n) any more than she already did. “No. It was my fault. I was being selfish and wanted you to myself. I should have known that I couldn’t have the great Reyna Avila Ramirez-Arellano to myself. Especially since you’re Praetor.” Reyna scowled at the use of her full name but said nothing. The pair of demigods just stared across the never-ending, never-beginning ocean, peaceful silence enveloping them both. “You know this is usually the part where you say it isn’t my fault then we kiss and make up” (Y/n) said breaking the silence. Reyna had to bite her tongue hard to force her laughter down. Instead she appeared stoic and serious. “But it is your fault.” Reyna said bluntly, causing (Y/n)’s happiness to drop. “I am a Praetor of the twelfth legion. I oversee the daily routines of over hundreds of demigods, even more now thanks to you Greeks.” Reyna’s heart broke a little as (Y/n) curled into a sitting fetal position, Reyna saw tears threatening to spill from (Y/n)’s eyes. And so, she wrapped her significant other in a tight embrace. Resting her chin on the top of (Y/n)’s head. “However, you are still far more precious to me to leave you alone. Flos Pulcherrimus.” Below Reyna, (Y/n) sniffed a little. “What do you mean?” (Y/n) asked. “I mean… That I think Frank can allow me to sleep in a little later, so long as my baby’s happy” Reyna nuzzled (Y/n)’s neck making the younger demigod blush, (Y/n)’s mouth opened to speak but words quickly turned to moans as Reyna nipped her ear lobe. “Let us finish this in your cabin.” Reyna continued huskily. As Reyna thought back to that fateful day, she couldn’t help but smile. The thought of the huge make out session her and (Y/n) had shared that day was enough to make her extremely happy. So yes, Reyna hated mornings. But she loved them because the look in (Y/n)’s eyes when (Y/n) saw that Reyna was still here was greater than any gift the gods could ever give. Speaking of which, Reyna felt the body next to her shift its position. (Y/n) uncurled from a fetal position and laid their head against Reyna’s covered bosom. Reyna wrapped her toned arms possessively around (Y/n)’s shoulders, letting the sheets fall down into their laps. Reyna’s fingers danced through (Y/n)’s bed hair. (Y/n) could feel the softness of Reyna’s fingers causing their eyes to open slowly. “Good morning Flos Pulcherrimus.” Reyna greeted warmly. A smile graced (Y/n)’s lips, their eyes closing once more. “Good morning to you too αστέρι μου” Although Reyna was not fluent in Greek, (Y/n) and Annabeth had taught her more than enough to know the cute pet names (Y/n) called her. “You have your thinking face on… What were you thinking about?” (Y/n) asked rising from their lying position to sit next to Reyna, both their backs being supported by the wall of Cabin 61. Reyna smiled at the person she adored most. “Nothing kind one. Nothing at all.” She replied sweetly.

#reynaavilaramirez-arellano #reyna #femalereaderinsert #malereader #love #affection #mornings #percyjackson #demigod #heracles #camphalfblood #pipermclean #leovaldez #romance #kisses #lime?

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desperately-bisexual · 6 years

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CHAPTER ONE: MADMAX Binge Review

This is my thoughts on episode one of Stranger Things 2 for the Billy Hargrove binge watch over @bingetimenerds. Join the conversation in these tags: billyhbinge and/or bingetimenerds.

SPOILERS AHEAD (but, like, if you haven’t seen it yet, where have you been?)

I understand that they wanted to start off with something new, give us new characters and an unknown plot, however, I felt robbed of a special opening when they did it this way.

I would have rathered just leaving this scene until the end of the episode or something.

So, how come Kali doesn’t use that ability to see things outside of human sight later? The show sort of just forgets about it.

Netflix: Don’t even bother asking if I want to skip the intro… this song is my ringtone on my phone… of course I want to watch it!!!!

SEAN ASTIN!!

DACRE MONTGOMERY!!

Classic Dustin cursing 24/7.

I love Dustin and his mom’s relationship. It’s hilarious.

LUCAS’ BANDANA, I’m crying!

Also, Nancy’s new haircut is on fleek.

I love how even after everything, Mike and Nancy are still just regular siblings and argue all the time.

Can we talk about this season’s soundtrack? It’s amazing!

Protective!Joyce is the best Joyce.

Most people know this… but Princess Daphne = Max. And Lucas has the highscore “claiming” Princess Daphne, beating Dustin. Therefore, a parallel between the game and life.

STOP HARASSING MY BABY WILL.

Honestly, this scene should have been the opening scene.

Will looking up at the monster should have been the last shot before the credits, and then the end of the credits, Mike grabs Will.

Hopper is daddy. I regret nothing.

Also, Hopper is me in the morning.

“Get away from me… Get. Away. From. Me…”

But, like, I’m also Murray when talking about theories for shows.

So, #relatable???

Flo is such a mom, having to take care of Hopper all the time.

This scene between Murray and Hopper is so underrated, it’s amazing and actually highkey important.

Flo is so done with Hopper’s shit.

I love Steve, but he NEEDS to drop Nancy, and she NEEDS to drop him.

They just don’t work, thank god they realized that later.

IT’S OUR BOY BILLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#iconic

God, I love him.

I am those three girls.

“Would you just look at that ass? Look at it go…”

Amen, sweetie.

And here’s Max!

Unpopular opinion: Joyce and Bob are honestly amazing.

Winona Ryder hasn’t aged a day.

Like what is this witchery?

(That was a Crucible reference btw)

I mean, truthfully, Jonathan and Nancy were already lowkey dating before she broke up with Steve.

Even if they didn’t realize it.

The way the boys doubt that girls could play videogames is triggering— but I understand that they’re middle schoolers, and at the time video games weren’t really a girly thing.

Max is the greatest for that note she left for the boys. However, when did she have the time to write that when they weren’t looking?

Poor Will. Just leave him alone!

I love how Hopper is sort of like their bodyguard at these things.

All of these sounds from the hospital actually triggered my anxiety, so… fuck the Duffer Bros. for doing that to me.

Just to clarify: Doctor Owens DEFINITELY did call Hopper “Pop” or “Pap”.

That’s not creepy to have a bunch of agents watching you in a secret room.

I think that shot was originally why I thought that they were still bad, and not actually good.

Does anyone know what the ball is about? It shows up all season, and I never saw an actual explanation. Was it important or was it just some B-roll footage they threw in?

I doubt it, because nothing is useless in Stranger Things to the Duffer Bros.

This, too, when Owens goes to watch the burning, this really made me think that they were still bad, and we were just going in circles.

Billy’s back.

This time he’s arguing a lot with Max.

This is my relationship with my brother, honestly.

But I’m Billy. And, yes, I know that’s a bad thing. And, yes, I do drive like that…

My boys Dustin and Lucas are highkey in love with Max.

Fuck Mike’s parents.

Mike is high key depressed, and his parents don’t even know or care.

They’re just making things worse.

And this is how my parents are.

I feel so bad for Barb’s parents.

And Nancy’s so helpless because she can’t tell them the truth.

I’m not crying— you’re crying.

Finn Wolfhard is one of the best actors I’ve ever seen.

Adult or child.

ELEVEN.

And… Dustin…

But, Dustin, if it’s a democracy, then shouldn’t you ask Mike? I know you tried, but actually go to his house.

This is the problem with depression, and I myself suffer from this, you push your friends away because you pretend not to care, but deep down you want them to try harder to help you.

I think this is what happened with Mike. He pushed his friends away (except for Will), but now he’s just trying to cry out for help.

DART! Our first “look” at Dart!

After a year, Will is finally starting to implode, and speaking his mind about how isolated and different he feels.

We finally get to see for the first time, how close Will and Jonathan are.

Sean Astin… This is not the Goonies, I know it may seem like it… but it’s not…

To this day, even that goddamn phone triggers me.

And fuck Bob for not realizing how much it triggers Joyce.

The Upside Down looks so different now.

It’s not longer just cold and dark, but it’s stormier and scarier.

And I wonder if in future seasons, that red lightning could affect something?

I mean, this cabin in the woods is a big step up from Hopper’s trashed trailer.

And notice how clean it is and lacking the piles of beer cans???

I don’t care what you talked about, let my girl Eleven eat her Eggos!!

HOPPER IS SUCH A DAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I’m not a big fan of Eleven’s curly hair, but it’s better than that awful gel look she gets later.

#stranger things #stranger things 2 #binge watch #netflix #stranger things binge #binge #st2 #bingetimenerds #billyhbinge #chapter one: madmax

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