#my day has been full of misfortunes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

woodlandwrites · 1 month

Text

i. mind over matter

aphrodite!reader x luke castellan

pre-tlt, characters 18+, mdni, def going to be a pt.2

warnings: cursing, whole lotta impertinence!

2.7k read - unedited

You have been plagued by flocks of doves and Luke Castellan. So Aphrodite decides to meddle a little a lot in your love life. Who needs memories anyway? Unfortunately, the only person you find comfort in - is the very person you hate.

A/N: first fic in a loooong time - stick with me here. there will be more parts and maybeee some spice? anyways hope you enjoy!

You’d like to think that Aphrodite loved the game of making you miserable. In retrospect, you hated your mother. She was a hard act to follow.

Don’t jump to conclusions - you loved your cabin. Your brothers and sisters were wonderful - not vain like most campers would say. No, that was not an issue. The problem started with one slender, curly haired, crooked smile boy - Luke Castellan. He was the golden boy of Camp Half-Blood and the bane of your existence.

Luke was an astonishingly aggravating self-centered egotistical bigot.

“Why do you hate him so much,” Silena asked one day out of the blue. You both sat in the stands watching Luke teach his swordsmanship class. You pondered her question for a while.

“Because. He confuses me - and aggravates me constantly. I have never met anyone so full of themselves in my entire life. He is Narcissus reborn again. It also does not help that he is a complete jerk,” you nodded as you ate another fresh strawberry. Silena pondered on your words.

“Are you sure this has nothing to do with mom and the whole..argument,” she said in a cautionary tone.

Silena was the only one who knew about you and Aphrodite’s - complicated past. To be fair - she didn’t know the entire truth. The prophecy, the impertinence, all the bullshit. However, she did know that your shoulders seemed to tense every time Aphrodite’s name was mentioned.

“I mean every time I have talked to him at camp counselor meetings he seems like an alright guy.

Silena - forever the optimist. Sometimes when you looked at her through the corner of your eye she resembled your mother. She had this soft tone and locks of hair that seemed to always catch the wind just right. Yeah, no wonder Luke was nice to her. Selina was extremely beautiful - Beckendorf struck gold.

“Yeah, I can see right through the façade-” you were cut off by a dove landing next to you. He started pecking at your strawberries mindlessly. Silena stifled a small giggle.

“It is funny when it isn’t happening to you. The bastards have been following me around for days,” you said annoyed.

You tried scaring the bird away - only for more to return. After a couple minutes an estimated 20 doves flocked around you mimicking every move.

“Go away!” you screamed - only for the feathered friends to cock their heads in curiosity. By now, the entire arena seemed to convert their attention to you.

“Hey! I heard if they shit on your head it’ll bring good luck,” Luke echoed watching amused.

He leaned against his sword in a cocky manner. What an asshole - you hated when he did that. The other campers seemed to laugh along.

“Up yours, Castellan,” you yelled with a face the color of cherries.

The doves had now increased their army to a solid 50 - all looking to you for a further instruction. Doves had followed you around your entire life - a gift your mother had bestowed to you. The unfortunate part was that they were pretty much the most non obedient monsters on the entire planet. You never had truly understood why they would appear - most of the time it was a random occurrence. Of course - Luke was always there to revel in your misfortune. You still had not forgotten when the doves caused a complete riot last month at dinner - leaving quite a mess for you to clean up. The younger campers were still traumatized.

That was the thing about doves - they were just like your mother. At first they are nice to look at, almost sweet. That is until they turn into vicious assailants from Tartarus (Silena says you overreact). They also annoy you - another common attribute with your mother.

“For Gods sake just leave!,” you yelled again, stomping off, bidding Silena goodbye.

You did not want to continue being entertainment for the rest of the campers. The doves seemed to take the hint - maintaining their place in the stands. You were sure there were some week old snacks stuffed between the seats the rotted things could ravish on. Luke chuckled before turning his attention back to his students.

The sun was setting and soon it would be dinner - but you still sat in bed thinking about what Silena had mentioned early about your mom. Maybe it was your nerves - but you knew a visit soon would be unavoidable. The doves only confirmed your suspicion. It was rare for gods to visit Camp Half-Blood, at least publically. The closest thing the camp had to godliness was Mr. D - what a joke. However, you knew your mother and her constant desire to meddle with your life.

Dinner went without a hunch - except for the Stoll twins starting a food fight at the Hermes table. You loved quiet nights like these where the summer breeze feels like a warm hug. Silena nudged you - reading her expression you knew she was inquiring about the events from earlier. A shrug sufficed. You were so caught up in laughing with your siblings you failed to notice the yelling from the other side of the pavilion.

“One of the Ares girls was flirting with Luke after you left today - Charlie and I could not help but laugh. It was so awkward,” Silena mentioned.

There were a couple of murmured sounds and gawking from your siblings - which was the usual. If there was one thing they loved it was - well - love. However this subject rubbed you the wrong way - maybe it was just Luke’s name being mentioned.

It felt like a suffocating gut punch and it was most likely your mothers doing. If there was anything she loved more it was demigod love - the trials and tribulations - and of course the unfortunate ends. It quite literally made you sick. But why did Luke have to be roped in it and moreover - why did you care? You smiled and nodded - trying to pay attention and not let the thoughts take over.

“Get these goddamn things off of me!,” a familiar voice yelled in annoyance.

So wrapped up in thought - you failed to care - assuming it was a practical Hephaestus joke with an Ares kid. Selina quickly nudged you pointing towards the Hermes table - for quite an interesting scene. Luke being attacked by a merciless army of doves.

“Hey Castellan, let them shit on your head - heard it was good luck!,” the words reflected from just a few hours prior.

You couldn’t help but giggle - it was nice not being the receiver of dove aggravated assault (as Beckendorf had termed it). It was also nice not to be the joke for once - everyone laughing at someone else for a change was different.

“Call the damn things off,” he struggled - yelling your name in the process.

“Why do you automatically assume I am the one who set them off? They just do what they want!” you retorted.

Silena looked at you - questioning your motives. He struggled even more as the doves thrashed him around - seemling gaining confidence in their blows. They seemed - deadly - more than before. Silena muttered your name.

“You have to try,” Silena persuaded. Reluctantly you obeyed - knowing she was being more serious than she was putting on.

“Stop!” you yelled sternly to the winged creatures.

Like usual - they did not obey. Unfortunately, they keep going - tearing Luke’s shirt in the process. He held himself quite well against dove assassins - a fact you did not want to admit to yourself.

“παύω!” You spoke - pleading that it would end.

It was all your mothers fault. She wanted you to be miserable. She wanted to ruin your night, humiliate you - and to hurt Luke. You weren’t sure why that last part bothered you so much.

“Φεύγω!” you screamed once more in an earthshaking tone.

The doves dissipated automatically. Like literally - poof - into dust. Again - the entire camp had its eyes on you - what else was new?

“What is wrong with you,” Luke questioned - still astonished at the sheer power of your voice - that very voice that made doves disintegrate. You slowly looked up at his disheveled appearance - he looked worse.

Beautiful.

You wish that voice in your head would go suck a dick!

“Shows over, enjoy your dessert,” you said bitterly to the crowd taking a bow.

Silena yelled your name but you had already darted towards the woods. You could hear the muttering of the crowd questioning the evening entertainment. You could not seem to care.

You took a seat in the sand on the beach overlooking the shore. The moonlight seemed to make the water sparkle like diamonds. You felt almost calm here - no one to distract you from your thoughts. Why did his words strike you like a knife? He might as well plant backbiter into your back, it would hurt less. It all led to the proper question - why? Why would the doves attack him anyway? They had never done anything quite so ruthless before - nevertheless to another sole person.

Then again - it was always about Luke - ever since you got to the infernal camp. He was probably celebrated for his brave victory in the battle of the doves - hoisted up by other campers. You suppose a feast in his honor was in order.

“You think such unhappy thoughts,” an angelic voice sang from the sea.

Your attention turned towards a bundle of sea foam. The foam began to sparkle and mangle to take the shape of a woman the closer it got to shore. Soon after your mother - Aphrodite stood before you - in all her glory.

“I thought seafoam was just whale jizz,” you spoke casually. You chucked at yourself that was a good one!

Of - fucking - course. Your mother was behind the entire dove fiasco - you called it. You should start placing bets at this point.

“Most would be labeled impertinent with that attitude - especially with a God.”

“I am impertinent.” You shrugged, pulling your knees to your chest. Maybe if you really ignored her she would disappear.

“I will not disappear yet - we have much to discuss.”

“Get out of my head.”

“I heard what occurred tonight at dinner. Shame, doves are very gentle creatures.”

A dove magically appeared in her hands, letting out a soft coo. You cringed. If you saw another dove tonight - you might just roast it and eat it.

“So that was you?” You asked venomously.

“Well thanks mom! Now the entire camp thinks I tried to kill the golden boy with a league of killer doves. They all think I am absolutely crazy.”

“I did nothing, my child.” You gawked at her - she paused to collect her thoughts.

“However, you might want to look within yourself before you spit accusations that are not true. I merely gave you a gift - how you use it is at your own expense.” She finished.

“But I don’t control those horrid things - they just show up and do whatever. Why would I even attack Luke with a bunch of wimpy doves?”

That was your mother, having the audacity to say you caused the incident. That it was all your fault.

“Love, perhaps?” Her eyes seemed to glitter at the thought.

“No.” Ugh, not this again, you thought.

“Doves are a mere - personification of one’s inner love. That is why I gave you the gift - so your innermost feelings can never be bottled. That does horrid things to one’s complexion.”

“Well thanks for the shitty gift, mother. Next time maybe a pair of socks will do the trick.”

“Why do you insist on denying who you are? Denying what you are destined to become? Denying yourself the love of the century?”

“Why love someone if they eventually will die.” It was true. Your father had died when you were young - leaving you an orphan. Your demigod friends you made throughout the years died horrible unspeakable deaths.

“Isn’t that all the more fun?”

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you? You just love to see me suffer?”

“You’re being rash.” She fired back.

“Rash? Where have you been?” You scoffed at your godly mother.

“Child, I do not write destiny - I only enforce it. I know you more than you would like to admit, sweet dove. And you - are in love with the child of Hermes.”

Apollo could’ve shot you through the chest - it would have felt better.

“Mother, you have it mixed up - I do not have any feelings for Luke. You’re just making things up because you are bored and need some excitement. Please go back to Olympus and meddle with someone else’s life,” you stated. You staggered to your feet dusting the sand off.

Before you could walk away a bolt of pure energy hit you in your spine. You flew to your feet hitting the ground with a hard thud. In a blur your mother was standing proud above your feet - surrounded in a pink aura.

“Luke Castellan, he will keep you safe - and you will keep him steady.”

You might have thought to curse at her - but you couldn’t speak - let alone move. She had disappeared from vision leaving only a dove in her wake. The pain - was excruciating - like being electrocuted a million times. Your ears rang terrible tunes as you tried to level yourself - only to fall back down. The world was spinning at an unmeasurable pace. You could hear shrill screaming - or was it yours? You weren’t even sure who you were? Only images of dark curls, broad shoulders, and crooked smiles flashed through your vision.

A quake of footsteps running towards the shore were felt as you thrashed in the sand. Voices - yelling a name - whose name? You couldn’t recall. All you knew was darkness.

“Y/N?!” a feminine voice called. You could feel her hands shake your shoulder violently - it felt like knives.

You heard screams - this time knowing it was your shrill cry. You pushed her away with force. You backed away, crawling backwards in desperation.

Once your vision returned you focused to see a swarm of kids all in orange shirts - staring at you in shock. The girl who touched you - you could only assume was kneeling in the sand in front of you. She seemed to be pleading.

“Stay away, please,” you pleaded with tears streaming from your eyes. You weren’t sure what had happened but you knew you had never felt pain so deeply.

“Y/N, please you were screaming. We only want to make sure you are okay. We can go to the infirmary and figure it out,” the girl reached out only for you to retreat more. You hyperventilate on your own words.

“What’s going on?” another voice asked with urgency from beyond the crowd.

Every child seemed to turn their attention to focus on the male figure. Pushing his way through the crowd - he became shocked at the scene before him.

However, you felt as if all the oxygen had left your body - leaving you limp. You felt as if a hand had grabbed your heart and ripped it in two. He was the one - the one you had seen in your visions.

“Y/N?” he questioned - half concerned, half annoyed. His chocolate eyes seemed to lock ever so easily with yours. He was indeed the most beautiful man you had ever seen - like a carving of marble. Your soul ached. Without a thought - on instinct alone - you ran. He was engulfed in a desperate hug - his shoulder muffled your pitiful cries.

“Please, you’re the only one who can help.” You could feel the eyes on the two of you - the gasps were hard to ignore. He went stiff in his posture - not sure how to react. Silence fell over the entire shore, only the crashing of waves in the background.

“Y/N what is going on? Is this some sort of prank?” he asked in disbelief.

He had never seen you like this - so scared. Some small part of him wanted to scoop you up, hold you tight, and tell you everything would be okay. He wanted to tell you how he would fix all your problems - just so he would never see you cry again. Although these feelings were so suppressed he restrained.

Gods you were beautiful.

“I- I don’t know who Y/N is. I don’t know anyone. I don’t know me.”

#luke castellan x reader #percy jackson x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan #percy jackson #percy jackson fanfiction #luke castellan x aphrodite!reader #pjo fanfic #pjo #Spotify

893 notes · View notes

discordantwritings · 2 months

Text

The Sand Dragon and I Pt. 2 (Dragon! Sir Crocodile x Reader)

Part 1 / Part 2

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, gn afab! Reader, dragon shifter! Crocodile, monsterfucking, canon typical violence, power dynamics are once again pretty whack, possessive Crocodile, Crocodile is Mean, oral sex, facefucking, masochism, lil bit of blood, overstimulation, belly bulge, creampie, aftercare is important guys, also vampire! Mihawk is there for a little bit

WC: 6k

Summary: An unwelcome guest, a slightly more welcome guest, and a display of ownership.

Notes: I had way too much fun with this. So I originally intended this to be the end of it buttttt if you guys want more or more fantasy type aus I have many ideas

Tagging: @okanadafreakingfan

While you don’t have to make as many trips all the way up to the entrance cavern anymore for water, there’s still a daily hike you have to make up to the fountain to fill your large metal bucket that you dug up. You consider asking if there’s a closer water source but that thought is quickly dismissed. You only see him once every few weeks by his design. No need to increase the rate at which he could tire of you.

You release the dirty water from yesterday back into the pool of water, watching the dust and dirt slowly sink and travel back to the earth. You’re about to refill the bucket when suddenly you hear a noise from the tunnel to the surface. Gripping the bucket tight you press yourself to the stone wall, waiting to see what comes out of the tunnel.

This isn’t the first time this has happened- wild animals sometimes have the misfortune of wandering down too far to find food and water but most of the time they leave fairly quickly. You assume it’s something to do with Sir Crocodile’s presence no matter how far away he is this was still his lair. So when a man- an actual human man- peers out from the tunnel you nearly drop your bucket in surprise.

It’s not long before he sees you, it’s a painfully wide open cave, and you see his eyes widen in surprise before he runs over to you. As he gets closer you can really see him- disheveled presumably from days of travel, beat up armor, and a short sword gripped in his right hand. Reflexively you back off from his fast approach and as you do he stops, putting his hands up.

“Hey- I’m not going to hurt you.” His words do nothing to calm you. “Actually- I guess I’m here to free you.”

Free? Why would you- oh, yeah. Most humans don’t consensually live in a dragon’s lair. “You- look-“

“No, no don’t worry everything is okay now!” Oh boy he’s really getting into the savior role. “I’m going to kill that foul beast and then you can come home with me!”

Right, like if you had been taken you wouldn’t want to go back to your own home and to your own people. “He’s going to kill you.”

“I’ve been training for this my whole life-“ You estimate he’s in his mid 20s, whole life doesn’t really carry a lot of weight- “And I will be victorious.”

You try to warn him more but he doesn’t hear you, already walking away to go deeper into the tunnels. You’re not sure how regular of an occurrence this is for Sir Crocodile but you know he’d probably just be annoyed to see some random human wandering around.

Maybe you’ve been living in a cave for far too long, away from humanity for too long, but as you reel back with your bucket it really feels like the best solution. He doesn’t even notice you until it’s too late, heavy metal colliding with the side of his head and knocking him out cold. His body slumps to the ground as the metal clang echoes again and again off the tall stone walls.

Well. Sir Crocodile is bound to have heard that. So you fill up your bucket, take a seat, and wait for him to show up.

This time you hear him coming and for the first time since you got here you see him in his full dragon form. You aren’t as scared of him but there’s no stopping your body’s natural reaction to cower in his presence. His large eyes look over the scene- the knocked out wannabe knight and you sitting there waiting for him. You don’t say anything, just patiently wait for his reaction.

“You knocked him out.” It’s not a question.

“Yes sir.” You respond, shifting in your seat.

“Why?”

“I assumed you would be displeased to find some human attempting to kill you wandering around your lair.”

“And?” He could hear you were holding something back.

“And… he annoyed me sir.” You admit.

Impossibly loud laughter fills the space as Sir Crocodile cackles at your response. You have to bite your cheek to not smile, this was probably the best reaction you could get.

“Oh, I didn’t know my pet had such a fire!” He steps closer, snout close to the unconscious man. “Such a pathetic excuse of a human. Some do not know their place.”

His massive jaw opens and you look away just in time so you don’t have to see him devour the man whole. Your eyes glue to the ceiling as you hear the awful crunch of metal and bone under teeth. After a few moments of silence you finally look back down to see those massive eyes staring at you.

“Good work pet.”

Now that you know what these emotions are swirling deep in your stomach, embarrassment mixes in as you try and temper your reaction. You hope maybe he doesn’t care enough to analyze your reaction, to care if you like anything he says. But the way his pupils narrow into slits tells you he knows.

“Keep up the good work.” His large body turns around, knocking over a few chairs and tables as he lumbers out of the space and back down to whatever cave he lurks in. You practically melt into the chair the second you can no longer hear his movement, mortified by your own reactions to this whole situation. As you straighten up the room you ignore the perverse want in the pit of your stomach. You know how he sees humans, how he sees you. Your sick attraction was yours and yours alone. This was just another hold he was forming over you.

But all the logic in the world doesn’t stop how happy you are for the rest of the week. Not to mention a few days later your food is restocked with fresh fruits and vegetables, a gift you know is from Sir Crocodile.

He doesn’t really care.

But maybe he cares just a little.

The next time you see him you’ve made significant progress on his overstock hoard. Books are on shelves, you’ve relocated some rugs to the room, most things are at least in somewhat sensible piles, and you swear you can almost see the back of the cave. You were working on organizing the trinkets when you hear his voice.

“I didn’t think it was possible to get rid of all that dust.” Surprisingly, you don’t jump out of your skin at his presence, somewhat used to him sneaking up on you.

“It wasn’t easy sir.” You stand up straight as he walks around the space that is now open. His claws lightly drag along the bindings of books on the shelves, his reptilian eyes analyzing everything. You hold your breath, hoping that you haven’t done anything wrong in your organization.

“Categorical and alphabetical. Good enough.” He turns to you and sighs. “As much as I’ve tried to push this off, I have a guest visiting in three days. He’s just here for a meeting of sorts but I need the entrance cavern ready to receive. Don’t worry about food either.”

“Oh of course sir, I’ll get to organize that space tomorrow if that’s alright?” You wonder what kind of guest Sir Crocodile could possibly have, probably another dragon?

“And he’s human sized so I will be as well. Arrange appropriately. While I won’t require you to hang around you I would still like you to receive the guest so I’ve gotten you some more appropriate clothing.”

Human sized confirms in your mind that his guest is definitely not human. Curiosity at what clothing he could have possibly gotten you swims in your head but you’ll find that out soon enough. “I can do that sir. What time will the guest be arriving?”

“Around eight in the evening. He’s punctual, you shouldn’t have to wait long.” Crocodile walks over to the pile you were sorting through, gold claws picking up a wooden talisman. “I realize I’m giving you a sore impression of what I collect. One day you will see my real hoard, if you keep being good.”

You flush under his praise despite yourself and force your gaze forward so as to not make eye contact with him. He chuckles and you want to disappear out of embarrassment.

“I’ll see you in three days, pet.” And just like that he’s gone again.

It’s getting harder and harder to deny your reactions to him. It follows you at night to your bedroom as you fight the urge to touch yourself. You know somehow he would hear your moans, the slick noises you would inevitably create if you were to dip your fingers deep into where you need them. Knowing that you deny yourself, compounding your need with every visit he pays you. It’s becoming a problem how fast you grow slick in his presence but you keep pushing it off. Eventually it’ll pass.

Maybe.

When you get back to your room that night you find new clothes neatly folded for you on your bed. They’re the same deep green of his scales and as you touch them you feel impossibly soft silk. Holding it up you see that they should fit you perfectly, and you wonder how he knew your exact measurements. Probably a result of his impressive observation skills. The thought of his eyes raking over your body and analyzing every dip and curve of your body…

You bury your face into the clothing and huff in frustration. You really need to get your head on straight.

Focusing on setting up the entrance for a guest at least fills the time well. You arrange tables and chairs and then spend some time gathering the best looking items from the overstock to decorate the space. It makes it look more lived in, even if you know realistically it’s not going to fool anyone.

Soon enough it’s almost time to greet the guest of honor and you are hesitating by the tunnel up to the surface. Dressed in the somehow perfectly tailored clothes Sir Crocodile got for you the silk did little to soothe your anxiety. You were tasked to receive the guest but you’re not sure if that means right here or up at the surface. It had been a long time since you’ve been outside these caves and while you don’t feel yourself missing the surface… fresh air would be nice.

Sir Crocodile wouldn’t want his guest to have to do the long walk down by himself right? Your own shoddy justification is enough to have you traveling up to the surface. It’s much less foreboding than you remember, but you know that’s just because you’re used to so much worse at this point.

You know you’re almost there because you can feel the cool breeze of the desert night. Pausing, you soak it in, a sharp contrast to the damp, stale air that hangs in the deep caverns. It’s only a few more steps before you’re out, looking at the starry night sky. You forgot how beautiful it was.

Despite all these emotions never once does the thought of running away cross your mind. Not out of fear, but because your new life is actually pretty good.

“You’re not Crocodile.” A dark, smooth voice sounds from a few feet away and you turn to see what looks to be an immaculately dressed human man.

“No I’m his-“ What were you, exactly? Calling yourself his pet to a stranger feels wrong so you just use the next best term. “Servant.”

“Interesting.” He steps closer and you can see his sharp facial hair that accentuates his defined facial features. His long leather coat is lined with a deep blood red fabric that stands out against his pale white skin. You can’t help but think how handsome this man was.

“My name is Dracule Mihawk, I assume you are expecting me.” Bright golden eyes that almost seem to glow in the dim light of the night regard your form.

“Yes, I’m here to receive you, you can follow me down if you are ready?” You do your best to be formal under the scrutiny and that seems to please him.

“Lead the way.” With a nod you start making your way back down, feeling his eyes on your back the whole time.

The walk is eerily silent, so much so that it’s a relief when you finally get back to the entry cave and see Sir Crocodile standing there in his humanoid form. You shuffle slightly to the side to let Mihawk pass by you.

“Mihawk.” Sir Crocodile greets simply, tone unreadable.

“Crocodile.” Mihawk is equally unreadable until he casts a glance your way. “Is it too much to assume this human is a gift for me?”

You blanch at the question, looking worriedly over to Sir Crocodile. His face quickly pulls up into a sneer. “Don’t you dare lay an undead finger on my pet.”

“Come now Crocodile.” Mihawk is smiling now, but it’s unsettling as you see red flash over his gold eyes. “What use do you have for a human? I could use a new blood source…”

The golden hand quickly transforms into a wickedly sharp hook and loops around Mihawk’s neck as he tries to step closer to you. He growls, deep and guttural as he barely holds himself back. “I’ll rip your head clean off.”

Your heart is racing as Mihawk chuckles and throws his hands up. “Alright, alright. Someone’s grown attached to their pet.”

Crocodile lets the hook linger for a few seconds before it reforms back into a clawed hand. “They’ve proven themselves useful and loyal.”

“Oh I’m sure that’s it.” Mihawk turns back and sits in one of the prepared chairs. You’re not sure what Mihawk is implying there so you cast a confused look to Sir Crocodile.

“You can leave now.” He dismisses you and you nod.

“I’ll be reading if you need me sir.” You bow slightly to Mihawk as well before you leave, despite your fear of him.

You couldn’t leave fast enough, not catching any more conversation between the two of them. You find solace in your reading chair, book settled on your lap even though you can’t bring yourself to read just yet. Your thoughts swim as you finally process how close you were to dying and that Crocodile defended you, willing to kill someone he trusted enough to let in his lair for you. And that last comment from Mihawk… he wasn’t implying what you think he was implying right?

Thank the stars above your book is interesting so at least you can think about something else while you wait and make sure you aren’t needed any more tonight. Almost two hours pass before you see Sir Crocodile darken the entryway for the cavern. You quickly stand up, setting your book down on the chair.

“Do you need-“ You’re cut off by a wave of his clawed hand.

“Come with me.” He’s already walking away so you quickly follow.

You’re led down tunnels you haven’t been down before, going even deeper into the earth. You want to know what’s going on but stop yourself from asking questions that probably won’t get answered anyways. It’s nearly 15 minutes of fast paced walking before you stop at a gigantic set of carved stone doors. A scene of the desert has been carefully etched into the stone, somehow soft and delicate despite the hard working surface. Bracing both his hands on the doors he pushes open and with some effort the doors swing in. He walks in first and after a moment of your hesitation he waves you in as well.

So this was a real hoard.

You find yourself standing on a stone walkway above a giant pit filled with more gold and jewels than you thought existed. The walkway circled the expansive cavern- easily five times the size of the entry cave. You were stunned, mesmerized by the glimmering of the treasures by firelight.

“I told you I’d show you a real hoard.” His voice snaps you back to the moment as he continues to walk and you follow, eyes still glued to the center pit.

You follow him all the way around the radius of the pit until you’re across from the doorway. You come up on a large ornate throne and open overflowing treasure chests. He reaches down into one of the chests and plucks out a piece of jewelry. It’s a gold choker inlaid with more emeralds than you can count before he makes a motion with his other hand.

“Turn around.” You obey without hesitation.

“So obedient…” You feel him right behind you and something drapes around your neck- the cold metal presses into your throat and you know it’s that necklace he pulled out. Surprisingly deft claws clasp it into place as it settles surprisingly comfortably on you.

“Let me see.” As you turn you have to crane your neck up to see him since he’s so close to you- closer than he’s ever been.

“I didn’t think anyone would get confused but apparently I have to mark what is mine better.” The golden claws rake over the metal- over your neck- and your breath hitches. “I think it suits you.”

“It’s beautiful sir.” You can’t see it now but even just from the glimpse you got you know it is- perfectly matching with the clothes he got you.

“Quite.” His eyes rake over you and for once his pupils aren’t those narrow, scrutinizing slits. They are nearly full circles, pushing out that white grey of his irises to almost nothing.

“I want you to say it.” Crocodile’s voice is low, almost a whisper. There’s an almost inaudible rumble from his chest that you can hear. You somehow know exactly what he wants.

“I’m yours.” You look him in the eyes as you say that, his claws pressuring your neck just enough so you know they’re there.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” You feel the heat radiating off his body and there’s not a doubt in your mind he can see how affected you are by him.

His claws continue to play at the edge of the choker while you try not to wither under his touch. You’d take whatever kind of touch he would give you but that doesn’t mean you still don’t want more. The desperate thought of him wrapping that large hand around your neck flits through your head and you shudder.

“What was that pet?” Of course it didn’t go unnoticed, nothing does.

“I was- just thinking, sir.” Your words come out fragmented but that doesn’t seem to bother him, in fact a smirk comes over his face.

“Thinking? What about? Tell me.” He leans down, further invading your space as that hand near your throat keeps you from slinking away.

While it’s hard to admit it to him, you don’t think for a second about disobeying him. “Your hand around my neck.”

A low growl leaves him as he gives you what you want, his hand big enough to fully wrap around your throat. You don’t bite back the moan that leaves you as he grips lightly, fully discarding any shame you have.

“You just need to ask and I’ll give you anything you could ever want. All the gold, all the clothing, all the books this world has to offer. Just say the word.” His grip on your throat keeps your eyes locked with his, showing you how truthful he’s being. Sure, he has a physical grip on you right now, but you can see you have just as much hold over him.

“I want you.”

There’s a moment where you’re confident the world stops moving as his grip reflexively tightens around you. You feel his breath, uneven, fan over your face as he stares down at you.

“Say it again.” He demands, voice little more than a growl.

“I want-“ You don’t get to finish your sentence before you’re being pulled up into a bruising kiss.

There’s nothing gentle or even kind about the way he kisses you. He takes- robbing you of your breath and thoughts as his sharp teeth drag over your lips, drawing blood. When he finally lets you pull away you taste the thick iron of your blood as you gasp for whatever air you can get past his grip around your throat.

It was everything you wanted.

He drags you backwards until he’s sitting in that huge throne and you brace your hands on the armrests as you continue to kiss him. You go breathless many times before he releases his grip on you, head pleasantly swimming from lack of oxygen. You press your forehead to his, the cool scales that dot his hairline running a chill through you.

“Too much for my pet?” He teases, claws slipping under your shirt and up your sides.

“No sir.” To prove yourself somehow you slowly sink down to your knees in front of him, hands drifting from the armrests to his knees. He somehow looked even better from this angle, broad shoulders filling up the throne and the sharp angles of his face gazing down at you.

Claws rake through your hair as you undo the fastening on his pants, an impressive bulge already straining at the fabric. Impressive quickly turns to overwhelming as you push away his clothing and get a full view of him. You had thought many, many times about what he would look like but none of your fantasies really prepared you.

He was massive- intimidatingly so. Your hand reaches out and grips his base and your fingers don’t come close to touching. He’s smoother than you would expect, long as he curves up towards his stomach, ending in an almost angular tip. You bring your mouth to his tip, taking him in just a bit. Salt and earth weigh on your tongue, surprisingly not too unpleasant.

Letting saliva pool in your mouth you messily let it drip down his cock. You pull off of him and use both of your hands to slide up and down his length, coating him in your spit. The hand in your hair grips hard and forces you to look up at him.

“I want you to look at me while you pleasure me pet.” The pain of him pulling your hair only turns you on further.

“Yes sir.” You keep eye contact with him as you take him into your mouth once again, tongue flattening as you slowly push him further into your mouth and down your throat. You can’t take all of him but your hands compensate, sliding up and down the remaining length in time with your mouth. Apparently though, it’s not quite enough.

“Oh, pet, let me-“ Claws dig into your scalp as he holds your head in place and thrusts his hips up to shove his cock further down your throat.

You sputter and gag as he forces himself down further than you thought he could go but he doesn’t let up, holding you there while you adjust. Finally you force your breathing through your nose, tears streaming down your face as you calm your throat down to take him.

“That’s it- knew you could take more- don’t think about a thing just let me fuck that tight little throat of yours.” He continues his assault and you let him, not making a single move to escape his grasp.

Your don’t have enough thought in your head to continue moving your hands so you just hold his base as he uses your throat. All that you can do is take what he’s giving you and do your best to maintain eye contact through the tears. You can only imagine what you look like to him- absolutely debauched as your mouth and throat stretch to accommodate him, tears and spit dripping from your face onto the stone below.

You’re not sure how long you’re like this, knees on the cold stone as you let your face get fucked, losing track of time and just about everything else. It’s only when his thrusts loose their steady rhythm and you can feel the throb of his cock that you snap back, suddenly hearing the words pouring out of Crocodile’s mouth.

“I knew you’d be such a good whore for me- you’re going to swallow what I give you aren’t you pet? It’ll be so easy when I pour it right down your throat-“ At least you know it’s coming and you hum in acknowledgment, the only way you can let him know that you want it too.

That noise in your throat seems to be all that’s needed to push him over the edge as he holds your head tight and spills his cum down your throat. You fight against the urge to gag, doing your best to swallow until he finally releases his grip on the back of your head, letting you pull off and gasp for air. You rest your head on his thigh while you catch your breath and you feel his hand gently brush against your cheek, a sharp contrast to how he was only a few moments ago.

“So good for me… does my pet deserve a reward?” You barely have time to process his words before you’re being moved, world flipping around.

Suddenly you’re sitting in the throne and Crocodile is on his knees in front of you, a predatory grin splitting his face. He doesn’t waste any time, sharp claws tearing and ripping your bottoms clean off. You want to protest but the words die in your throat as he holds your thighs open and stares at you.

“I knew you’d be soaked but all this?” You feel the sharp edge of his claws play at your folds. “My poor pet has been so pent up.”

He kisses up your inner thigh and as he gets closer occasionally his sharp teeth sink into your flesh, just breaking the delicate skin there. After every bite he licks over the wounds and you can’t quite see but you can feel that his tongue is longer than you would expect it to be. Your fists ball at your sides, every pinprick of pain sending a new rush of pleasure through you.

“You can grip onto me if you like, you won’t hurt me.” Hesitantly, you move one of your hands to his hair as he hikes your thighs over his shoulders. “I’ve been waiting to taste you since I first saw you, I just know you’ll be divine.”

His claws somehow don’t rip open you skin as he pries your folds open before diving in with that long, thick tongue. You immediately see stars as pushes his tongue into you and it curls inside you. The pad of his thumb presses down on your clit as he relentlessly swipes against your insides. He pulls back for a second, a single strand of hair falling in his face.

“If you’re going to take me I’ll have to get you ready.” You watch as his golden claws loose their edge but get thicker before they disappear between your legs.

Your legs instinctually wrap around his neck as you feel the cool metal press against your entrance. You hear him chuckle before his tongue swirls around your clit and he presses a single large finger inside you. The moan that leaves you would embarrass you if you were capable of that emotion anymore. The gold is thick and cold inside you, a feeling so weirdly foreign yet amazing.

All of the sensations- his finger inside you, his tongue swirling around your clit, his flesh hand holding your hips down- it’s too much. Crying out and griping his hair you cum all over his finger and tongue. Despite your orgasm Crocodile doesn’t let up for a second though, a second finger slipping inside you while your mind and body buzzed off the high.

“You’re going to have to get a lot looser than that pet.” The two fingers make a scissoring motion inside you and he uses the gap he creates to snake his tongue inside you as well.

You nearly yell in pleasure as his tongue reaches spots you can only dream of finding with your own fingers. Without thinking your hips move up to try and find more friction but his single hand keeps you pressed down to the velvet fabric of the throne. He shoots you a warning glare that only makes you want more. You’re already sensitive from the orgasm you just had so it’s not too long before you’re chanting his title and wrapping your legs ever tighter around the back of his neck. His tongue pulls out and you whine at the loss but it’s short lived as it travels up to your clit, flicking over it before you feel the very edges of his teeth scrape that sensitive bud and you feel like your nerves light on fire.

You’re gushing over his fingers again and he finally stops moving, pressing more kisses and bites into your inner thighs. Once your legs finally relax he slides his fingers out and uses both his hands to grip your waist as he flips your positions once again. This time as he sits on the throne you’re positioned on his lap, his length already sliding against your folds.

“Do you think you’re ready to take me?” His mouth finds your neck, teeth scraping against skin as you grind against his cock. “Or are you going to get off like this?”

“No- please I need you inside me.” You force yourself to stop moving to prove your point.

“Hm… you’re almost ready…” One of his sharp claws rips open your top from the center causing it too fall loose from your shoulders. Now all that’s left on you is that golden choker. “Perfect.”

Just one of his hands is enough to lift you up, the other hand lining up his cock with your entrance. You gasp as his tip presses into you, already stretching you out as much as his fingers. Digging your nails into the fur lining of his coat, somehow still situated on his shoulders, you do your best to stay relaxed as Crocodile pushes inch after inch into you.

“I- fuck- you’re too big-“ You sputter out as you feel him getting deeper, pushing your body to its limits.

“You just- fuck pet- you just need to relax. You can take it. I know you can.” You feel the cold metal of his gold hand rub tight circles around your clit. “You’re gripping me so tight just let me in.”

“I’m-“ You feel like you’re being ripped in half but there’s something about the pain of the stretch that feels so good.

You’re already so overstimulated and the filthy words in your ear and the quick movements of his fingers are too much. You cum with a wordless scream, burying your face into Crocodile’s neck. Taking advantage of how your body contracts and then relaxes during your orgasm he shoves his cock in the rest of the way- tip suddenly shoving against your cervix and sending a wave of pain through your body. You hit his shoulder and he pulls back slightly, soothing kisses pressed against your throat.

“See thats it, you could take me pet, see?” His hand rubs over your abdomen and lightly pushes you back. “Look at that.”

You look down and see your stomach bulging out slightly, showing you how far his cock had gone in you. Crocodile pushes down on the bulge with his hand, fascinated by the way your body takes him. You can only whine, uselessly clawing at his jacket as he sits inside you, unmoving.

“So fucking tight and warm pet. I should have had you like this from the first night you came here. But now that you’re here-“ His hips finally move, each thrust sharp and deep. “You’re never going anywhere else. You’re mine.”

“I’m yours- I’m- Sir please it’s- it’s too much-“ Three orgasms had put all your nerves on edge, each slide of his cock inside you overwhelming.

“Oh you can take it. You’re doing so well pet- just a little more-“ He quickens his pace and you cry out before he captures your lips with his own and swallows all your noises.

Pushed past where you thought you could go everything goes a bit numb, head fuzzy in a pleasant way. You give yourself up to him, let him take whatever he wants from you as you surrender. There’s no more thoughts in your head and you can barely hear the nasty things he’s whispering in between kisses. You’ve never felt like this before and you loved it.

The fog clears slightly when Crocodile nips at your earlobe. “I’m going to fill you up pet- how’s that sound?”

You can only moan in response, you’d be fine with whatever he asked you at this point.

“That’s it- so fucking perfect for me- taking it all for me and letting me fill you up- just like-“ He shifts his hips and thrusts faster, hitting deep inside you. “Need you to cum again, come on pet, grip me tight like that again-“

“I- I don’t know if-“ Your protests are quickly drowned out.

“Yes you can- come on now.” He presses against your abused clit again and your body caves to his demands as your walls convulse around him.

You feel his warm seed pour into you, mixing with your cum and gushing out onto both of your thighs. You’re only somewhat aware of how much cum he spilled into you, still leaking out of him as he slowly pulls out of you. Instinctively you wrap your arms around your neck and pull him close and you feel a warm chuckle in his chest.

“Does my pet need some affection?” Hair is brushed out of your face as one arm holds you close to his chest. “You’ve done such a good job.”

You feel him stand up but you’re secure against his large body as you’re carried off somewhere. Things are still fuzzy and you can’t track the turns down the tunnels but you feel the air grow damper until you hear the sound of running water.

“You’re going to have to let go for a moment.” He tells you gently and you obey, arms sliding off as he sets you down.

It isn’t until your feet hit water that you realize this cave is one giant hot spring. You immediately shuffle forward until you’re mostly covered with the warm water, the heat sinking into your already sore muscles. Crocodile, finally naked, joins you a few moments later, scooping you up from behind. He carries you over to a spot where he can sit and still be mostly covered with water and you stay curled up in his lap.

You’re so tired, mind and body exhausted from the night. It doesn’t even startle you when you feel Crocodile’s tail possessively wrap around your legs while his arms hold you at your waist. Drifting in and out of consciousness you occasionally feel him washing parts of you off, the smell fragrant soaps pushing you even farther to sleep.

You wake up slightly when it’s time to get out of the water, skin pruning from the over exposure. You towel yourself off and Crocodile wraps you in a soft robe before sweeping you off your feet once again.

It’s not long before you’re back in your room, gently laid in bed. You pull the covers over yourself as Crocodile scans over your body.

“Have a good night pet.” He says, rubbing your shoulder before taking a few steps away.

“Wait.” Your words stop his leaving and he casts you a questioning glance. “You said I could have anything I want?”

“Yes, of course.” He walks back over to you.

“Then… could you stay the night with me?”

Sir Crocodile isn’t easily readable, you’ve been fighting to understand his thoughts for months now through glances and sparse words. He was unmovable, strong, fearsome.

But you don’t miss the way his face softens at your request.

“Whatever you ask.” He slides into bed next to you and after some adjusting your back is pressed against his chest. His arms wrap around your middle and that large tail rests over your leg. You feel safe, secure, against his large frame.

“Sleep well my treasure.”

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #discordantwritings #x reader #crocodile x reader #sir crocodile x you #sir crocodile x reader

263 notes · View notes

ashessonfire · 1 year

Note

listen here, you DON'T HAVE THE RIGHT TO RIP MY HEART OUT OF MY CHEST AND THROW IT IN THE MUD AND STAMP ON IT WITH THAT LATEST KAZ FIC OF YOURS, GET IT? I'm completely… devastated. I never asked you for anything, please do a part two, I BEG YOU!

ps: darling, you write very well ♡

'Forgotten' Part two - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Prompt: Kaz slowly begins to remember your relationship, but what good is that if he has already tossed you aside? Can the Bastard of the Barrel save the one thing he truly loves?

You can find the first part of 'Forgotten' here!

- Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Reader (established relationship) - Warnings: A lot of angst, nothing too graphic, lots of emotion coming from Kaz + his crows, so much sadness, dont worry too much though ... :)

A/N: The amount of requests for this have been insane, once again i truly love each one of you, my heart is so full. I hope this is a good ending for the first part, im very happy with how it turned out!! P.S I am so sorry for the pain i seemed to have caused with the first post T-T ════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

Glimpses of you tormented Kaz, plaguing his every thought. His mind seemingly fixated on the one person he had deserted out of pure spite.

It had been two weeks since you were outcast, and Kaz had prayed to the Saints that it would relieve him of the weight gripping his heart, ever since his memory was ripped away from him. Yet they seemed to laugh in his face, spitting back a far more excruciating punishment for his actions.

Returning his memories.

The second you had left his office, tears spilling as they swirled in your shining eyes, Kaz had felt something deep stirring within him, something resembling dread. Since then, he had begged any higher being for relief as realisation began to flood his senses, engulfing his every thought and action.

Wounds scattered his already battered heart, with the rest of the crows seeming to crush it further each day. Ever since you had slipped carefully crafted letters under each of your friend’s doors, you had melted into the shadows of Ketterdam, not a single trace of your presence left behind.

You knew Kaz ultimately wasn’t to blame, yet the scars he had painted onto your soul were excruciating, physically pushing you away from him to escape further agony. You too, prayed to the Saints that your boyfriend, or perhaps ex-boyfriend, would regain what he had lost, and remember you as his lover.

Wind swept through your hair, salt spraying your glowing features as you sailed towards Ravka, choosing to allow the breeze to blow your pain along the wind, and back to Ketterdam. Pushing Kaz to the furthest corner of your mind, you stepped off the ladder onto Ravkan soil, determined to reap the benefits of your misfortune rather than wallow in them.

Taking the outstretched hand of a grinning sailor, you allowed the warmth of his smile and the welcoming of the group around you to bathe you in some sort of content.

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

It seemed as if your prayers had worked, as each day wracked Kaz with a new memory or emotion, each one undeniably interlinked with you. His feelings overtook him, spewing out in rageful fits or harsh punishments for anyone daring to cross him, deepening the rift forming between the boss and his crows.

The moment each crow had read your letter, it instantly clicked into place what had happened, despite your deliberate attempts to remain vague about the exchange which had stolen you from them.

Sitting in Jesper’s room, the crew remained sullen, intense emotions clouding the air, becoming unbearable. The suffocating atmosphere was fractured when Nina suddenly burst out, “I am going to kill him. I warned him to be gentle, yet he pushed my attempts aside, and now...this. The hit could have been hard enough to at least remove some of his stubbornness.”

Nina huffed, rage coursing through her blood at Kaz’s actions, had she not been clear enough? “He can’t just send her away, can he? I mean, I didn’t think he would have it in him to do that, even before those two got together,” Jesper seethed, confusion lacing his voice but an unmistakable anger matching Nina’s.

Wylan remained silent, picking at the rotting wood of the floorboards, too overwhelmed at the loss of you to comprehend his emotions. Inej similarly remained quiet, eyes fluttering shut as she soundlessly prayed to each Saint that you would return, and Kaz would finally see sense.

Despite the varied reactions to their boss’s stupidity, a common thread held them closely together, pain. To each one of them you meant the world, a prevailing light penetrating through the dreary Barrel life which often consumed its inhabitants.

You lit up the darkness of the ruthless city, aiding Jesper in amusing pranks often against Kaz, in which you would take the blame for, knowing deep down Kaz could never hold it against you.

You consoled Wylan when whisps of his past would haunt him, taking him on walks along the canal or making his favourite tea and taking in the views of Ketterdam from the rooftop. The warmth of the suns beams and your words washing away his nerves.

For the usually reserved wraith, you encouraged her confidence, easing her fear of touch in a similar way in which you helped Kaz. Around very few other people Inej could say she felt the same comfort and unconditional love that radiated from your mere presence. Nina could positively agree with how Inej felt, intensely missing her gossip companion and partner in crime. You knew every detail about her, and the rest of the crows, in a way nobody else could ever counter.

On the third week of your absence, the crows had seen very little of their leader, the few signs of his presence being the scraping of a chair in his office, or the beat of a cane on the panels of the Slat, indicating he was finally eating before walling himself up in his desolate isolation again.

Paperwork scattered Kaz’s desk, yet it remained as untouched as it was when he had exiled you. His days were spent calculating finances, unable to bring himself to plan a heist without you, with a distinct and vital element of his crew missing.

A sudden echo of weighted footsteps sounded outside of his door, their ascent bringing a chorus of hushed voices as the crows burst into his office. It had been days since they had last encountered their boss, his previous sighting confining him almost indefinitely to his room. It was in the early hours of the morning a few nights ago that he had finally emerged to gather some papers from the common room, when his attention snapped up to a sight that he was utterly unprepared to face.

Before him, by a fireplace laden with dim embers, sat Inej, Wylan, and Jesper, all three bearing cascading silver lines down their faces. Wylan’s breathing was ragged as he sobbed into Jespers chest, the sight of which triggering the other two. Realisation slammed into Kaz, knocking the breath out of his lungs, startling him with the intensity of emotion that welled up within him.

Not only had he destroyed the one true tenderness in his life, but he had also destroyed his closest friends too.

By this point, he had figured that he had long been captivated with you, and the most recent flashes of memory brought his relationship barreling down on him. Although patches were hazy, he had decoded exactly what he felt.

He was in love with you.

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

Before any of the group that had stumbled in could voice their opinions, the sight of their boss stunned them into silence.

Kaz remained hunched over his desk as always, but the ghostly paleness to his skin, the hollowed cheeks that protruded at sharp angles, and the grave circles etched underneath his reddened eyes deeply unsettled his crows. Nothing, not even Pekka Rollin’s greatest attempts to wound him, had ever resulted in Kaz Brekker’s complete and utter destruction.

Until now.

Inej quietly cleared her throat before courageously stating, “Kaz, we are going to find her. Not only are the Dregs seriously disadvantaged, but we also need her. Not just for jobs, even though you may not remember��” until she was cut of by a sharp voice.

Kaz’s head whipped up, glaring with a deathly warning at the people who stood before him. “I do remember,” he lashed out, voice deep and gravelly at the lack of use, “I remember everything now. You think I would have done that if I had known?”

His words echoed around the dim room, but it was something about Kaz’s face which caused the crows to collectively draw in their breath. A tear had freed itself from the confinement of his heart, snaking it was way down his ashen cheek, revealing to the group the torment he was being subject to by his own actions.

With a shaky hand, he procured a crumpled piece of paper from his waistcoat, holding it out to the group in a similar way in which he had done to you, the emotion in his chest pressing tightly against his lungs.

Jesper stepped forward cautiously, snatching it from his hands and unfolding the corners. The group peered over his shoulder to discover a meticulously thought-out plan to retrieve you from Ravka. Kaz glanced at the group, for the first time allowing them a glimpse of his true feelings, begging them silently to aid in his mission.

With a swift look to the others, they wordlessly agreed to Kaz’s plan, Jesper handing back the paper to his boss and giving a tight nod to Kaz, “Lets go then,” he declared.

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

Through a thorough process of force, Nina had coaxed the reality of your conversation out of Kaz, pulling up rage from the group. However, they excellently withheld it, knowing you would never blame Kaz for his actions whilst his memories fogged over, despite the pain they had caused.

The air around them cleared as the ship sailed away from the port in Ketterdam, the grey of the ocean blending into cerulean as the voyage to Ravka proceeded. If Kaz’s calculations remained accurate, you would be collecting information within the small harbor you had first landed in, leaving little ground for the group to cover in search of you.

Once they reached land, they split off into six desperate individuals, Jesper searching the market, Inej scouring the rooftops, Wylan inquiring with locals, and Nina investigating the shops that littered the town square. Kaz stationed himself inside a cramped booth at the busiest of the sparse bars that lined the town, his informants assuring him it was the most popular with Ketterdam’s visitors.

For the first time in years, Kaz felt sick with nerves. He remembered how anxious he had felt when he summoned the courage to admit his feelings, but the sheer force of his panic now tied him down and drowned him.

Tears poured frequently from his eyes during the weeks of your absence, the dread of not knowing how you were constantly squeezing at his heart. The knowledge that if something happened to you it would be his fault ate at him until he was a mere shell of the man you had loved.

A voice pulled him out of his daze, like a siren inviting a sailor to dance in the depths of the ocean, Kaz was defenseless against you. As he turned his head towards the sound, you also glanced over at the dark figure in the corner, heart ceasing its movements in your chest the second your gazes locked.

It truly was him.

Frozen by the sight of you, Kaz couldn’t comprehend his own actions, remaining frigid in his seat as he stared at you, eyes once again being subject to the sting of tears.

‘Pathetic’ he thought to himself.

You gave a kind smile to the men you were conversing with previously, quietly slipping into the opposite seat from Kaz. You parted your lips to begin small conversation, not wanting the tension to grow too intense, but your words crumbled as he shot out, “I need you.”

Confusion flooded you, yet the desperation flooding his eyes signaled that he wasn’t done, the words were just slowly configuring inside. You knew him well enough to give an encouraging nod, letting him calculate his next words.

“I need you to come back. I remember it all, and” he stopped himself, breathing shallowly as his lungs refused to intake enough air, “I’m sorry,” he whispered. Tears leaked from his sunken eyes, his fragile appearance wracking you with emotion, the temptation to reach out to him becoming unbearable. Nobody but you had ever seen the Bastard of the Barrel break, yet he sat before you now, heart on full display for only you to see.

Yet you remained strong, answering his pleads by stating, “And how will that go? I know you lost your memory, but will you just push me away again if your feelings overwhelm you?” Before he could respond, you breathed out, “Kindness often isn’t free in this world Kaz, but when it comes to you, I would never expect anything in return. However, if you truly want me back, I need you to prove to me that it's really,” you paused,

“You.”

Instantaneously, Kaz reached for your hand, gloved fingers grasping desperately at your own, interweaving and caressing them in an iron grip. “I swear,” he started, “I will never let anyone harm you again in the way I have, my love,” a flood of emotion seeping into his words and gaze. “Including myself. I’m sorry,” he said, guiding your interweaved hands to his lips, the trembling a mere afterthought as he kissed your knuckles.

Smiling sadly at him, you tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear, hearing a shaky sigh leave his lips at your touch, mere weeks leaving him in desperation for you.

“The others are here I suppose?” you questioned, earning a short nod from Kaz and a diversion of his gaze. Unwinding your hand from his, you stood up, glancing down at the sorrowful man, and offering a soft smile, “Lets go find them then,” heart fluttering as Kaz’s hand gripped your wrist, unable to go without your touch a moment longer.

Weaving your hand through his once more, your gaze softened as the tension carved into your boyfriends sullen face released, as the pair of you made your way out of the establishment, connected by the hands that gripped the other and the love that radiated between the pair. Once you had received at least a hundred embraces and kisses from the other crows, you embarked on the journey back to dreary city of Ketterdam.

Not once on the voyage did Kaz leave your side, exchanging soft touches in each moment, and gently whispering against your temple a breathy, “I love you,” as the sublime colours of the sunset bled into the ocean, coating the two in a golden haze.

Relief settled between you, having the other fully within their reach again.

As Kaz’s attention diverted back to the wide expanse of water before him, you pour all of your emotions into your next words.

“I love you too, Kaz Brekker.”

════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

tag list: @cinnamon-bun47 @outlawqueen17 @s-corpionem @minstens @myheartfollower @cleverzonkwombatsludge @hopefulpeachnight @aesthetic0cherryblossom @thetargaryenbride @maisieisbae @natalia42069 @words-are-cheap @blancaster @caspianobsessed @lvmos-maximus @peotego @rhyanna6012

#kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader imagines #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #shadow and bone season 2 #shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagine #six of crows #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagine #ashessonfire

1K notes · View notes

thefunkfactory · 26 days

Text

Fratulence

Jaxon had been given to Eli and Easton to be their own personal slave for an entire week as part of him pledging to Kappa Sigma. Jaxon had heard about Eli and Easton, and what he knew is that they were the dumbest and douchiest brothers in the Frat, in fact they are so dumb that it is rumored that they “do favors” to pass their classes. Even worse than being owned by two bros who are dumb as a bag of rocks and have a think they are the shit is that they have a habit of letting putrid gas rip out of their asses whenever and wherever they pleased, didn’t matter if they were in class or in bed with a hot babe, if they needed to fart they were going to. It was almost as if the two weren’t smart enough to realize that they can hold in their stink.

“Yo bro! Welcome to mi casaaaaa” Easton spoke in a deep voice, “Make yourself at home man! Mi…or well our casa is su casa too! At least for the week.” Eli proclaimed in the dumb Southern Californian accent he had. Eli turned to Easton “It gonna be so nice not having to do chores around here broooo!”, given the state of the dorm it didn't seem like either one of them had done chores here in the first place. “I only see two beds in here dude” Jaxon said to Easton, “Where am I gonna sleep?”. “Thats the best part man!” Easton snorted, “You’re gonna sleep on the floor.” Jaxon could tell this was going to be a hard week, the floor was covered in junk, trash, and foul smelling clothes that the two obviously don't even bother doing sniff tests on anymore.

“Ohhhh…greattttttt” Jaxon said through strained teeth. “Huhuh okay Jaxon since you’re ours for only a week we are gonna use you to your full potential” Eli said, “Yea man! Your blasters are gonna have to be on full throttle!” Easton added as he blasted out a fart. Eli punched his arm playfully and remarked “Huhu good one man that reeks, but we don’t want to knock out our new best bro!” Jaxon waved his hand in front of his nose as if it could do anything against the force of nature that is Easton’s fart fumes. “Huhu trust me that won’t help, anywaysss” Eli continued, “your first order is that you have to make your bed!”, “How am i supposed to do that if Im sleeping on the floor?” Jaxon pontificated. “Well we don’t want you to be uncomfy so all of our dirty clothes can be your mattress and blankets duhhh” Eli pointed out, Jaxon obliged making the smelliest bed he has ever had the misfortune of being on. Once he had made his bed the two bro’s told him “We want to go to sleep since it’s getting late so you have to sleep too so you don't wake us” Easton stated, “Oh okay! Let me just go brush my teeth an-.” Eli cut Jaxon off, “Nah I don’t think you need to brush your teeth, I mean we only do it in the morning so it's only fair that you do the same. The two frat bros breathed their foul breath in unison at Jaxon. Jaxon, barely keeping from gagging, responded with “Whatever you say” knowing that he would never get into Kappa Sigma if he fought back.

———————————————————————————

Over the course of the next week days Jaxon was constantly running errands, doing chores, doing Eli and Easton’s homework, etc. Jaxon was getting sick of the way the room always reeked like a High School locker room and hated the fact that he was starting to smell like that too. It was Saturday and Jaxon was so excited! Tomorrow he will be free from the stench, from the two bro’s stupidity, and will be a full fledged Kappa Sigma brother. That night the two bro’s ordered a pizza and got a bunch of soda and beer to celebrate his ascension into the frat. “uuuugh I am so so full!” Jaxon said, leaning his head back. “Me too” belched out Easton, Jaxon after being around the bro’s belching and farting all week found it kinda humorous now, his humor had regressed back to middle school but he didn’t mind. In fact Jaxon didn’t mind a lot now that he had spent a week with Eli and Easton. Jaxon didn’t mind the smell of the improvised bed all too much anymore, he didn’t mind doing all of Eli and Easton’s work, and he didn’t mind the farts anymore, the weak ones that is. He even started farting loudly in public just like them. “It’s been so fun having you here to do whatever we want man! We are gonna miss your servitude!” Eli said, “Yea man! Me and Eli were talking about it and we have one last thing we want to give to you!” Easton said excitedly, “It’s a surprise tho! So you gotta close your eyes!”. Jaxon, not wanting to not get the gift or insult them by not following their orders this last night did as he was told. Jaxon could hear the two shuffling around and Eli moved him from where he originally was in the dorm to right beside Eli’s bed. Still keeping his eyes closed he began to smell something rotten, it smelled like fermented cheese and unwashed ass. “One…Two…” he could hear them say in unison, “THREE” and all of a sudden he was met with a face full of ass fumes straight from the gassy bro bums. After what felt like a full minute, Eli and Easton’s putrefying butt vapors finally ceased. Jaxon sat there without saying a word. Inside his head the miasma of stink eliminated all higher thinking, Jax within a few seconds turned from a decently bright finance bro, to a bro dumber than a bag of rocks. Jax’s only future now would be as a janitor or something else of that nature. Jax’s memories were also being warped by the fumes, his strict heterosexuality loosening its grip became bisexuality as Jax began to have memories of sleeping with the other guys on the soccer team. All of his intellectual capacity and memories became one with the fart funk floating around in his head, but that cloud needed to go somewhere… As Eli and Easton began a second round of farts right into Jax’s face, Jax’s butt trumpet began to add to the symphony of flatulence. Just like that Jax essentially farted out his brain into a malodorous mist. Jaxon was gone, just a foul smell in a litany of foul smells in the room, all that remained was Jax, the dumb, gassy, bisexual frat bro. “Broooooooo” Jax moaned, “…That…was…SO RAD!” he said as his brain flickered back to life.

Jax, Eli, and Easton all became inseparable frat brothers, they had class together, they ate together, they played video games together, they jerked off together, and they fucked each other. But most importantly they farted together, constantly farting. No one would sit near them in the dining hall or in a single class due to the corrupting haze of gas that constantly surrounded the three. The three frat bros moved out to all live together, moving out of the cramped dorm room and into an off campus apartment. Jax’s fate continued to befall every guy who resided in that room, the FRATulence kept making the brilliant college students into dumb gassy bros, ready to add their own fart flavor to the room before they dropped out. “Rumor has it that the FRATulence has been absorbed into the carpet, mattresses, pillows, etc. But thats just some weird dumb story to keep this room empty I guess” Your RA told you when you moving in to the room with your roomie, “The rumors at this school are so weird man…” he commented. After he left your room, you and your roommate went back to unpacking and you yelled him as the funk of your roommate’s blundering fart filled your nostrils, “DUDE! You’re really gonna let one rip in here after that dumb story!” Soon you and your roommate are gonna leave your mark on this school, or at least on some poor pledges nose.

#farts #face farts #frat bro #stink #mental change #dumber #straight to bi #TTF

349 notes · View notes

ghost-proofbaby · 9 months

Text

FIRST IMPRESSIONS (a barista!eddie x barista!reader au)

summary: eddie faces the perils of being a coffee shop opener, and meets you. you, who's so damn optimistic it should be annoying. you, who makes the job that has given him trouble seem like a cake walk. you, who seemingly bleeds sunshine. god, he should really hate you.

warnings: TWO uses of "y/n", fem!reader (use of she/her pronouns), PHYSICAL descriptors used for reader (she has a nose ring and a septum piercing! that's all), eddie is just a bitter and grumpy idiot.

wc: 5.2k

a/n: i apologize in advance for all the technical 'barista' talk in reference to positions. i tried to elaborate on a few of them, haha. also... yes. i gave reader two nose piercings. it's definitely not even more self-projection psh. (because i have three)

the full menu

Eddie Munson is not a morning person.

So, why, for the life of him, he ended up as an opener, he couldn’t tell you.

It had been a snowball effect. He got tired of working odd jobs here and there to produce enough cash to slip Wayne for bills, decided the quick change made off of fixing up neighbors’ cars or mowing lawns just wasn’t cutting it for his desired spending habits. He was tired of being so restricted by his misfortune; he was tired of watching Wayne pull long shifts only to continue living paycheck to paycheck. He was tired of his friends like Harrington and Buckley having money from their part time gig at the movie store to freely agree to impromptu late nights at Benny’s or seeing the latest slasher films in the theater as they premiered while he had to deliberate over counting change to see if he even had the funds to join in. He was tired of eyeing that guitar in the mall and constantly telling himself one day.

Eddie Munson had been tired. But now, as he forced himself awake most mornings before the sun even rose, he was exhausted.

Originally, he’d wanted to be a closer. He didn’t mind being the clean up crew, having to spend late nights in a coffee shop sweeping up grounds and scrubbing away the stickiness of the day. But then the hiring manager that interviewed him had hinted towards the fact that their store already had enough closers when he’d spotted Eddie’s availability, made a few off comments about how what they really needed was a couple brave souls to take over opening shift, and that tiresome cycle rang in Eddie’s ears. Before he even had the chance to think it through, in his desperation, he’d insisted that oh, actually, my availability is completely open. I don’t mind working earlier than that.

What bullshit. Eddie definitely minded working earlier than that. He more than minded it — he loathed it.

Long story short, it had been a series of unfortunate events that led Eddie to where he was now. In his van, fifteen minutes early, staring out at a parking lot bathed in the lingering night as he fought to keep his eyes open.

The clock on his dash read 4:46 in a taunting blink, flickering against his bleary eyesight and making him question every decision in his life that had led him here. Adjusting to the new job had been easy enough — his trainer was nice enough, learning how to make drinks and what routines were required in the morning had been meticulous but rewarding — except for the time. It wasn’t just his start time that tortured him vehemently; shifts seem to pass miserably slow, the seconds dragging their feet in no hurry to get anywhere in particular. The clock didn’t care if Eddie yearned for his bed and a few extra hours of sleep gifted by a nap. Traffic didn’t either, when he’d hit the highways and catch just the beginnings or the tail end of the morning rush.

You’d think he’d complain more about the commute. But the gas spent on the twenty minute drive to the town over was the least of his concerns.

“Fuckin’ John,” Eddie mutters when a large truck pulls up to the drive thru, a notable regular he’d begun to recognize after not even a month of working there. They had just recently changed their opening time (they used to open an hour earlier, his manager had informed him. Eddie had nearly burst into grateful tears that he’d never experienced that crime of humanity.)

None of his coworkers had arrived yet. Most lived closer, able to garner extra snoozes on their alarms and shorter drives of contemplation. Eddie only ever envied them on mornings like today.

“We don’t open for, like, another forty minutes, asshole,” Eddie curses out loud to himself, counting down the time until John gives up and drives away. The man would just circle the store like a vulture anyways. He always did; he always had to be the first customer, grabbing his ridiculous coffee order before scurrying off to play cards at the casino, “How do you come here every fuckin’ day and not know that?”

It took the older man a full four minutes before he finally roughly shifted his truck back into drive, being the farthest thing from gentle as he hit his gas and jerked his vehicle out of the drive thru line. Eddie couldn’t see him clearly through the stubborn darkness, but he could easily imagine that look of irritation at not receiving the caramel frappucino with a quad shot that he seemed to feel entitled to.

God, that man was a dick.

Eddie nearly misses another coworker pulling up to park beside him during the spectacle.

By this point, he’s learned what cars all his coworkers drive.

Carmen, the fellow barista who had trained him but he now rarely worked with due to her availability being a bit later in the day, drove a bright red 2012 Kia Soul that had certainly seen better days. Nicole, one of the shift leads he worked with often during his opens, drove a small and silver Nissan Versa. The year is lost on him, but he’s willing to bet it was a few years old at this point. James, another shift lead who went by Jamie and never had much to say, drove a Volkswagen that looked to be straight out of the 70s. And that was just the beginning, the ones he could think of off the top of his head while he was still waking up inside his van.

The car parked beside him wasn’t any of these. He didn’t recognize it at first glance, and found himself doing a double take as his face scrunched up.

A Jeep. A two-door Jeep Wrangler with vibrant, chipped yellow paint now sat idle beside him.

Who the fuck drove a yellow Jeep?

He can’t even bother to be annoyed or fatigued anymore with the mystery presently before him. He can’t see through the tint of the windows, can’t make out the silhouette of who it was. He was well aware that he hadn’t been acquainted with all of his coworkers quite yet – there was a plethora of baristas in the store he’d only heard spoken of in passing rather than properly meeting – but it had seemed like the people who opened always came from the same rotation of sorry suckers.

Nicole’s car pulls up. So whoever drove the Jeep was not one of the shift leads.

Five minutes to 5:00 AM, Nicole’s car door opens first and Eddie can hear the Jeep’s engine kill. He’s quick to fumble with his own keys, pulling them from the ignition in a haste and throwing a hand out to blindly grab his apron from his passenger seat.

A deep shade of green. Everyone had one or two of them laying around, and they were the root of the nickname for all new hires: green beans. He had just finally gotten the one embroidered with his name a little over a week ago, and his manager had apologized profusely as she swore it usually didn’t take that long.

Eddie really didn’t care. The moment he started wearing the apron with his name on it, customers had taken to randomly addressing him by it, and it made him fucking uncomfortable.

“Rise and shine, campers!” Nicole’s voice echoes through the parking lot the moment all three openers are out of their cars.

Eddie doesn’t answer at first (which isn’t unusual; Nicole was used to his ever-present sleep-deprivation induced silence). He’s too busy nearly tripping over himself as his eyes stay glued on that Jeep, on the door that swings wide open roughly from two parking spaces away as he waits with bated breath.

Would this new coworker he was about to meet even like him?

“God, Nicky,” a new voice groans – a girl’s voice.

Ah, fuck.

Eddie had noticed the mysterious phenomenon of the way everyone who worked here seemed to be attractive to some extent. Nice on the eyes, always smiling and always flirting in a friendly manner to garner more tips. He’d had plenty of bisexual panics in the bathroom anytime one of his coworkers extended that friendly flirtation his way. All the fellow guys (as few as there were) and all the confident girls he’d been in the trenches with – it didn’t matter, they all affected him.

Hawkins didn’t have nearly as many pretty people. Eddie sort of felt cheated for having lived a mere twenty minutes from a goldmine of such people for so long, completely unaware. But he also felt sort of relieved, knowing that if he were still a teenager barely scraping by in high school, this coffee shop would have been his downfall with awkward stumbles and feelings caught from all those faux smiles and joking winks that his now coworkers laid on heavy with their regulars.

With this in mind, he doesn’t know why he wasn’t prepared for when you stepped out of the Jeep. Slamming the door shut behind you, your arms were full with an apron that was definitely not green, along with an oversized water bottle and what he thinks is either a cardigan or jacket. A tote bag slung over your shoulder looked to be stuffed full as well. You were a walking cliche for the type of person that people would expect to work at a coffee shop. The type of person that embodied all those jokes of if an alternative person isn’t making my coffee, it’s not going to taste good.

Eddie should know; he’d been the butt of many of those style of jokes given that he also fit into that category. With his long hair, with his sparse tattoos, with his new nose ring – he knew he was as much of a cliche as you were.

Didn’t stop him from staring at you, suddenly wide awake.

“Aren’t you just a ray of sunshine?” Nicole jokes as she rounds the front of your Jeep, stopping and looking between you and Eddie before she says to you, “You’d think after a month’s vacation you’d be happier to see me.”

You take two steps forward, lining up right between Eddie and Nicole, and suddenly contort your face to be such an over-exaggerated smile that it’s nearly a grimace. Eddie is so caught up in the scrunch of your nose, he nearly misses the way you grit out a sarcastic “Better?” from between your teeth.

“Oh, that’s the winner,” Nicole cackles, keys jangling as she shakes them and leads the two of you towards the front of the store. Over her shoulder, she continues to joke, “Keep on smiling like that, and I sense a twenty dollar tip in our future.”

Eddie still hasn’t said a word. What is he supposed to say? All he can do is trail slightly behind you, doing everything in his power to not let his eyes roam over your legs or backside. You were just wearing black jeans, in line with the same dress-code everyone else followed, but they were doing you favors.

“Y’know, I think I already saw John’s truck this morning,” your voice was surprisingly pleasant despite the insinuation Nicole had made that your first impression should be grumpy. Far less gritty than Eddie’s would have been had he spoken up, “Think I can sweet talk that out of him? Maybe I’ll ask about his wife. Or- Oh!” you exclaim, bursting with sudden energy that should give Eddie a headache this early, “Put me on bar! I’ll douse his drink in caramel how he likes, that’s sure to tug on his wallet- Sorry, I mean heart-strings.”

Nicole continues to laugh as she fumbles with unlocking the door, and it’s not lost on Eddie that he has never made any of the fellow baristas laugh like that. Although, to be fair, he has never been quite as enthusiastic as you. He didn’t seemingly bleed sunshine like you. Here the three of you were, outside in the dusky beginnings of a morning, and he could have sworn that the sun had already risen from the light that seemed to emit from you.

It should have made him nauseated. It kind of did, actually.

You turn suddenly, just as Nicole finally turns the lock, and face him. Your smile is subtle, eyes so wide he wouldn’t notice the bags even if you had any. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

You stick your hand out and he can see you sticky with it – with hopefulness, with friendliness, with kindness. His stomach churns.

Nope. Not a chance.

The moment Nicole opens the door, he’s barely muttering his name back to you, and is rushing past you to enter the store. His shoulder brushes against yours, and he has to tell himself repeatedly he did not just shoulder-check you. He has to tell himself that it’s okay he didn’t meet your level of enthusiasm. He has to tell himself that you’re just another barista, someone else who makes coffee for a living and that this new energy you bring is just due to that vacation that Nicole mentioned.

It’ll fade. He’ll be fine. At some point, his stomach has to stop churning.

—

It doesn’t.

Your energy doesn’t falter, to his surprise. Not only are you sunshine personified, but you’re also damn good at your job. Eddie can only imagine how sluggish he’d be if he had a month off from anything, especially a job, but it doesn’t even seem as though you have to dust any of your skills off for the day.

You offer to take over opening up the ‘drive thru’ aspect of the store, brewing all the coffees and teas without complaint as Eddie lingers in his misery of shuffling through the tasks of opening up the food portion of the store. As he’s sorting the croissants to be replenished, implementing the technique of FIFO (first in, first out), he can hear Nicole still cackling at whatever you’re saying in the back of the house as you clean the syrup pumps. When he’s labeling all the new breakfast sandwiches for the day with their best-by dates, he can hear you humming a few feet away from him over the clicking of the sticker gun in his hand. And when the clock finally reads 5:30 to signify the time of opening, you’re putting on your apron, tying it around yourself more securely than Eddie always lazily did. Even your black apron seemed to fit on you better than his did, as if you were more made for this job than he was. As if you had years of experience to carry on your shoulders, and God, were you carrying them with grace. Constantly smiling, constantly joking. He’d once thought Nicole incapable of even breaking a grin, but he’d hardly gone longer than a minute without hearing her laugh during the time of your opening together.

God, he sort of hated you.

You never even mentioned how rudely he’d shrugged off your introduction. Occasionally, he’d even caught you looking his way during the conversation, a soft expression on your face as if you were ready to include him in all the inside jokes at a moment’s notice.

He made sure to consistently stare straight ahead, never once seeming to glance your way when you wore that expression.

You were just too nice. You were putting all the other openers to shame right before his eyes, himself included, and he hated you for it.

Once the store is open, John is the first customer in drive, as always. Eddie wears the headset (the one you’d grabbed for him, sanitizing it and slotting a freshly charged battery in without him even asking. God, he hated you.) and listens in to you greeting the awful bastard, and his stomach does another flip.

“Good morning, John,” you chirp happily. He couldn’t see your face from around the corner, but he could only imagine that you were wearing a smile. Maybe you even had that damn camera on so that the customers could see you just as you could see them.

He waits. Anxious to hear John’s grumpy reply, be reassured when someone else also didn’t match your energy. The man had never been pleasant a single day that Eddie had worked thus far. Simply barking out his order, acting offended when someone didn’t recognize him.

If anyone was going to be cruel to you, Eddie would bet all five dollars in his pocket that it would be John.

But even John wasn’t fucking mean to you.

He had replied in the most cheerful tone Eddie had ever heard leave the man’s throat.

“And who am I speaking to?” he almost sounds teasing. It fans at Eddie’s irrational irritability.

“I’ll give you three guesses.”

He hates the way your customer service voice was so similar to just your normal voice. A bit squeakier, a bit more polite, but still bottled sunshine. He hates how nicely it caressed his eardrum as compared to the grate of some of the other barista’s tones while on drive thru. He hates that some deep part of him secretly hoped that Nicole stationed you there your entire shift, and that if she did, he would fight tooth and nail to keep this damn headset on. Just to hear your voice. Just to hear your light.

“Only three?” John’s gruff voice scoffs, “There’s only one person who works here who is this damn cheery before eight in the morning.”

Nicole laughs from where she’s bent over to put down a few of the sanitizer buckets by the bars, shaking her head as she also listens in over her headset.

“I’m making it easy on you, then,” you say as you suddenly come into view for Eddie. He’s trying to replenish the sandwiches and protein boxes that the store keeps on display for the customer by the register, still working through his morning tasks as he realizes you’ve completed yours.

Man, he fucking hated you.

You don’t miss a beat as you begin to tap one of the espresso machines awake, punching all the right buttons to pull John’s espresso shot before you turn to make your way towards the cold beverage station. “You still drinking the same thing, old man?”

“I’m not old.”

“Right, and I’m not already over-caffeinated,” that’s a lie. He hasn’t seen you touch a drop of coffee this entire time, “Just pull on up. It’s a billion dollars, or whatever your total normally is.”

John’s cackle is cut off by him pulling away from the speaker box, effectively disconnecting the two way mic. Even Eddie finds himself nearly grinning at your reply, but he stops himself. Because you’re annoying. Because no one should be this witty this early. Because the ability to make others laugh this often should be a cardinal sin.

He stops the grin because he hates you… right?

You do manage to get a tip out of John. Eddie sees it with his own two eyes. It’s a quick deposit of whatever spare change the stingiest man Eddie had ever had the displeasure of meeting has lying around his car, and it happens so quickly while you’re leant out the window to pass the man his receipt that he always requests that Eddie almost convinces himself it didn’t happen. But it did. He saw it with his own two eyes, as he tripped over his two left feet, effectively nearly knocking Nicole over with him.

The look she gives him makes his stomach twist this time as his heart lurches. It’s a knowing look. It’s despicable.

She doesn’t say a word until later into the shift, once more baristas are scattered across the floor and peak is in full swing. Eddie isn’t kept on food, and you aren’t kept to manage taking orders or run the window – he’s the one reassigned to the window position as you are moved to the cafe bar. He’s tasked with quick connections before handing out drinks to bored business people, as you fly through making drinks for both mobile orders and any customers that choose to physically walk into the store.

Nicole puts herself on the position of ‘DTO’ – she greets the drive thru customers over the headset and takes their orders, her tone not nearly as honey-sweet as yours had been. She’s lacking in jokes, she sticks to a script that must have taken her years to make sound even remotely natural.

Eddie’s just grateful he doesn’t have to wear a headset and listen to her directly in his ear.

Rush has died down when she turns to him and cocks a brow with her hip. He has the window shut, fiddling with his thumbs as he anxiously awaits for the partner on drive bar to finish making the iced white mocha for the customer currently sitting on their phone. He’s sure the look she shoots his way is in regards to the fact that he isn’t ‘connecting with the customer’ or putting himself through insufferable small talk.

It isn’t.

“Do you not like her?”

His head shoots up, fully meeting her curious gaze, “Excuse me?”

“Y/N,” she clarifies, “Do you… not like her?”

“I don’t know her,” he weakly defends himself.

He had been a dick to you this morning, hadn’t he? What a weak defense for being a bad person to someone who makes this entire store glow simply by being here.

“You should give her a chance,” Nicole speaks softly as she leans back on the counter that holds the order screens, “I… She can be a lot, but she’s one of our best. Think of her as the people’s princess, so to speak.”

He knows you’re one of the best here, just in the short few hours he’s caught glimpses of you. He has no idea how you’re so quick with making drinks, or how you manage to hold such genuine sounding conversations with all of the customers who stand right at the hand off plane. He just gets irritable when they stare at him with prying eyes as he tries (and fails) to keep up his pace.

“I… I can see it,” he nods, bringing a hand up to pinch his bottom lip, “I mean, John clearly loves her.”

Nicole gives a pointed look, “He does. She doesn’t take his shit – him and his wife bring her gifts for every holiday. They know her damn birthday and bring her cards. It’s insufferable.”

He cracks a shy smile at that, “They bring her birthday cards?”

“They bring her birthday cards,” she echoes back to him. Eddie finally receives the drink he was waiting on and turns, quick to hand it out with a soft mutterance of ‘have a good day’. Once he’s finished and the drive thru is officially empty, he faces her once more, “You don’t have to like her as much as everyone else. I know you’re still new and adjusting but… she’s one of the best for a reason.”

“Because she can turn out drinks like it’s no one’s business?” Eddie questions, side stepping and lifting his chin in your direction as you finish yet another drink, as if to prove his point.

“That,” Nicole shrugs her shoulders and pushes off the counter, “And because she actually gives a damn.” Eddie’s brows shoot up as he waits for her to continue, “She knows these customers, man. Learns about their lives, hears them out. Remembers the small things. She’s the same way with all of us, too. She once got turned down from being a shift lead because she’s too nice. Have you ever heard of someone being shot down from a job for that?” Nicole pauses, and Eddie can only shake his head, feeling the ends of his ponytail brush the back of his neck, “She has the management experience – she knows how to run this place. Sometimes, I see it. The way she steps up and takes responsibility. She chooses to be that kind even if it makes her seem like a nut job. She chooses to let people hear walk all over her, because she cares. She cares more about treating us as humans or whatever than she does an upgrade in pay.”

“Makes sense they wouldn’t make her a shift, then,” Eddie dares to say, which earns him a sharp look, “I mean, management positions aren’t for the weak of heart. You have to make tough decision-”

“Once, a man was harassing one of our baristas. This dude who was married. Came in like clockwork and picked up a mobile order under his wife’s name, wouldn’t take no for an answer and kept flirting with one of our poor girls. I’ve never really been afraid of her, but I was every time that man stepped foot in here,” Nicole grabs a rag and starts to wipe down the counters with a low whistle, as if she isn’t spilling serious store lore right now to Eddie. As if she isn’t bringing on more questions than answers, “She’s not weak of heart. She’s good of heart. And if she hadn’t been on vacation, she would have been your trainer. You don’t have to like her, like I said, but it would do you well to give her a chance.”

Trainer?

Carmen had mentioned something about another barista being the usual trainer. She had even tried to joke around with Eddie that he would have liked the other girl better, something about how she was funnier and easier to get along with.

You. You were the girl she’d been talking about. The people’s princess, as Nicole had put it.

Eddie opens his mouth to say something in reply, although he isn’t quite sure what he can say.

God, he had been a fucking dick. And Nicole was matching sure he felt all seven levels of Hell, of guilt, for it.

It ate him alive for the rest of his shift. His stomach churned with it. All that guilt gnawed on him from the inside out, using his bones for toothpicks, and he already knew what he needed to do without Nicole saying it.

—

“Did that hurt?”

The two of you got off your shifts at the same time, as most openers do. At ten o’clock precisely, Nicole was shooing the two of you off the floor, two fresh baristas taking both your places as you scurried to the back.

He’d overheard the joke made ten minutes prior, Nicole speaking to a fellow shift lead about who would be replacing you, already mourning your absence. She didn’t make such a joke about Eddie.

“Huh?” you look up quickly from where you had been carefully rolling and folding your apron into a bundle.

Eddie gestures vaguely to his nose again, repeating himself, “Did it hurt?”

It was the best he could do – pathetic small talk about the nose piercings of yours that had caught his eye.

You grin radiantly, and he tries to swallow down that instinctive voice that whisper hate, hate, hate. “Which one?”

Right. You had multiple nose piercings. A hoop that matches Eddie’s own, only on the left nostril rather than the right like his, and that septum piercing. He’d probably look dumb to ask about the nostril considering he had his done, and should already know that it definitely doesn’t feel nice.

“The septum,” he clarifies, “That combination, though, um… It looks sick.”

Oh, he sounds so fucking stupid right now. He wishes the sticky floors beneath the two of you would split and swallow him whole.

“Eh,” you shrug, finally glancing away from him to finish wrapping the strings of your apron snugly around the bundle you’d made of it, “My nostril honestly hurt worse. If you’re thinking of getting one,” you pause, and look up, offering him a look of pure mischief. Heart, stomach, mind. They all lurch with that look as you whisper, as if letting him in on a secret, “Do it.”

“I don’t think I could pull it off,” he’s quick to blurt out, eyes widening, resisting the urge to take several steps back and put distance between you two.

Fuck, he didn’t hate you. It hits him like a truck – this shift had managed to slip through his fingers so quickly. The fastest one to date. Between all of your jokes, all of the laughter you managed to pull out of others and that he had to fight down, the day had flown past as easily as a shift really could.

He regrets spending the shift moping. He regrets ignoring your introduction. He regrets not giving you a chance.

“I think you could,” your tote bag now hangs from your shoulder, and you have your keys prepared in one hand as you hold your water bottle in the other, “Everyone says that, but if you can already pull off the nostril, adding a little septum to the mix never hurt nobody.”

Is your face stuck like that? Stuck with a subtle and shy smile pulling at the lips, making the corners of your eyes crinkle in the slightest?

He hopes not. If it is, he’ll never be able to have a normal conversation with you. He’ll always be too distracted, too infuriated, too overwhelmed.

“You’re a very optimistic person,” he almost lets it slip out as a scoff, but refrains, Nicole’s words echoing in his mind. It would do you well to give her a chance.

“I find your lack of faith disturbing,” you casually say to him.

“Did you just quote Star Wars to me?”

Eddie is aghast, staring at you with even more awe than before. And you – oh, you look so goddamn proud of yourself and the way you’ve left him shellshocked, smugly lifting your chin and smiling more intentionally. You’re smiling so widely that your eyes pinch nearly fully shut and even more of that sunshine is now flooding the backroom up to Eddie’s knees.

“I don’t know,” you start to step around Eddie, carrying an air of arrogance that would only be so endearing from someone who had been proven to be as kind as you were, “Did I?”

You never give him the chance to answer. You leave him there, standing in the middle of the back of house and not even clocked out yet as you walk away with a bounce in your step and a quick have a good day, Eddie! over your shoulder.

When he’s finally off the clock and having given a half-ass goodbye to everyone on the floor (which no one replied to as enthusiastically as they had yours, by the way), you’re still sitting in your damn yellow Jeep. You give him a slight wave through the windshield as he makes a beeline for his van, and he doesn’t even bother to return it. Pretends he doesn’t see it. Looks straight ahead. If Nicole is watching from the drive thru window that serves as a front row seat to the entire interaction, she’s going to rip him a new one next shift they work together.

God, Eddie wishes he hated you.

Instead, he’s left hoping that next time he opens, you’re there to make the time fly. Maybe he’ll be the one quoting Star Wars to you. If he can ever get the stick out of his ass, that is.

taglist: @josephquinnsfreckles

(tag list is open - if you'd like to be added, let me know!)

#my writing #coffee shop blues #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #barista!eddie munson #this is what i do with my free time before and after work #and on my breaks lol #makes the grind more bearable #we needed some fluff #can i come out of jail now?

961 notes · View notes

lestappenforever · 1 month

Note

With the Lestappen-overtaking-Maxiel situation going on: Could you maybe make a little recommendation list of your favourite Lestappen fics (can be yours and/or other people's)?

Hi anon!

I absolutely can, what a fitting celebration!

As I'm still working on a proper fic rec list as I keep reading more and more fics, below you will find a small selection of my all-time favorite fics - both to read and to write!

Full list of my all-time favorite fics that I have read and written below the cut!

My all-time favorite fics that I have read:

Monaco Malaise (part 1 of Temptation's Trajectory) by @cupidskissx Rated E | 8,037 words | Complete

Using the reflection in the mirror above the vanity, he steals occasional glances into the bedroom as he wets the cloth and cleans himself off. Charles is still on his forearms and knees, face buried in his pillow, he doesn’t look like he’s going to be moving any time soon.

Max and Charles have been hooking up for a few months, casually, no string attached — definitely no feelings involved… The disaster that was Monaco 2021 sees them in Charles’ apartment, with Max having to deal with the fact that Charles can’t get out of his head.

Azerbaijan Abnegation (part 2 of Temptation's Trajectory) by @cupidskissx Rated E | 16,972 words | Complete

Charles stares at him intently, “Last time was an anomaly.” Not for the first time, Max recalls the awkward swell of humiliation after Charles had told him to stop. The hairs on the back of his neck prickle at the memory of everything that followed, “Yeah, that better not happen again.”

After Monaco, Max thought he’d made up his mind about Charles, and their little arrangement. They’re in Azerbaijan and Charles is everywhere: in his head, in his messages, in his hotel room… Will Max be able to hold onto his resolve, or will his attempts at self-denial only prolong the inevitable?

Mona's comment: I have read these two fics more times than I can count, and I'm going to keep reading them again and again and again until the day I die. Loz is such an amazingly talented author, and her writing has honestly altered my brain chemistry numerous times.

you and me, just us (and your teammate sergio) by @oscar-fastri Rated T | 3,377 words | Complete

Checo was fully aware of what he’s walking into. Still, he seriously doubts that anyone could have been prepared for the full force of Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc being heads over heels in love with each other and not even trying to hide it.

Or: 5 times Checo thirdwheels Max and Charles + 1 time it's everyone else's turn

Mona's comment: This is the "You, me and your friend Steve" song in perfect fic format, and let me tell you the sound I made when Avery published it was not human.

The Nights Are Long (But It's Easier Together) by @f1writingbyme Rated E | 43,759 | Complete

“Oh, God, what is it?” Max groans. “It’s Mr. Corvetto, right? I knew it. I’m telling you, never move into an apartment next to elderly people. It’s just– Why does she call me? What the hell can I do? Doesn’t she need to call an ambulance or something? Or, I don’t know, her family, or–” “Max.” Charles interrupts Max’s ranting. He ends the phone call, cutting off Mrs. Corvetto’s panicked yelling with a simple press of his thumb. He stares at the blue-eyed man in front of him. “Your apartment is on fire.”

Or: The fire in his apartment is only the beginning of a long list of misfortunes that await Max. Fortunately, he has Charles by his side to help him through it. That is until Charles is the one that gets targeted.

Mona's comment: I don't even have words for this, it just needs to be read. WARNING: Prepare for heavy angst.

And That's How I Foksmashed Dad's Championship Trophy by @il-predestinato Rated T | 6,500 | Complete

All of that would have been forgivable if not for the Green-Eyed Monster’s complete disregard for the pre-contracted occupation rights of Max’s lap. Such rights had long been pre-determined and belonged to Sassy (and occasionally to Jimmy, she admitted begrudgingly). However, no amount of quiet hisses and vicious glares seemed to penetrate the creature’s thick skull, and he would greedily occupy Max’s thigh for more than 95% of any given afternoon. Sometimes with his head, sometimes with his feet, and a few times he even straddled his entire body over Max; the latter could not have been comfortable for Max, as the Green-Eyed Monster was enormously overweight compared to Sassy. (Jimmy had insisted that it was not nice to shame another living creature about their weight, but she was not wrong. With her compact size and considerably more reasonable mass, Sassy was confident that she was much more comfortable for Max to have on his lap than that horrendously oversized creature.)

Mona's comment: I have never read anything as great as this, and I don't think I'll ever read anything as great as this ever again. I want to move into Elle's brain and live there forever.

set my midnight sorrow free (part 1 of this is our place, we make the rules) by @il-predestinato Rated T | 13,439 words | Complete

He doesn’t blame Max, not really. If he could have Charles for one night, he would never let him go either. Maybe he isn’t the one who is losing; Max is also playing a losing game. You can’t open yourself to Charles and try to exist in his charmed life without becoming irrevocably enamoured. When Max let Charles walk into his motorhome, when he let Charles slip into his existence, Max didn’t know it then but the battle was already lost.

we don't know how to rhyme, but damn, we try (part 2 of this is our place, we make the rules) by @il-predestinato Rated M | 4,862 | Complete

He pulls back reluctantly and misses the warm mouth almost immediately. Stars, he was doomed. “I want this too,” he tells Charles. “I don’t believe you.” He can be so infuriating sometimes, so contrarian. Some day, he might actually make Max lose his mind.

even the sun sets in paradise (part 3 of this is our place, we make the rules) by @il-predestinato Rated T | 27,774 words | Complete

If he had to name the place where the story of Max and Charles began, if there was a moment that divided them into Before and After, there would be a few candidates. But there was only one correct answer. He would never forget the name. The place is called Val d’Argenton. Stories are still being written there. Charles likes to tell the story of the incident - turn by turn, infused with poetic drama, detailing every single emotion: frustration, anger, pure spite. Every time he tells it, his smile grows along with the laughter in his eyes, even as his words recount a tale of opposing emotions. “I never want to go back to Val d’Argenton,” Charles once confessed. “We’ll never go back there,” he promised, and Charles knew what he meant.

Mona's comment: This series is such a rollercoaster of emotion, and I don't think I'm still fully recovered from reading it the first time. Elle is a true genius in every way.

p19 by @sennaverstappen Rated E | 5,619 words | Complete

“Charles,” it comes out soft, worried, upset. Charles will light himself on fire. He hears Max take a few steps towards him, feels two warm, winning, arms wrap around his fast-breathing chest. He’s still wearing those golden shoes. Max snuggle into his neck. “I’m here for you.” And Max had won, and he’s winning the season, and he’s P19, and losing this season. And Max is winning, and he’s not even talking about it – choosing to comfort his Charles instead. Every little thought converges into a single, red-hot one. He’s going to fuck the pole sitter so hard he’ll be sore tomorrow. “Max,” he whimpers, trying to find his voice, find his grip, find his footing in this world. Max tightens his grip around his waist. “Yes, angel?” And he can feel Max frown against his nape, soft breath against his earlobe. It turns his body white-hot. “Get on the fucking bed.”

Mona's comment: This one is just *chef's kiss*. Mindblowing. Incredible. Just like its author.

My all-time favorite fics that I've written:

Devil's Roll The Dice (Angels Roll Their Eyes) (part 1 of Devils Roll The Dice (Angels Roll Their Eyes) Rated E | 55,362 words | Complete

It all started with a crash. Well, technically, it started with a blue-eyed boy with blonde hair getting screamed at in a language he couldn’t understand when he was only 12 years old. He remembered looking at the boy, who couldn’t be much older than himself - (two weeks older, to be exact, he’d learn later) - and watching the spark disappear right out of those icy blue eyes. That was the first memory Charles Leclerc had of Max Verstappen: Watching Jos Verstappen, Max’s own father, scream at this 12 year old child with an intensity that turned his face red and made every blood vessel in his neck look dangerously close to bursting. But if anyone ever were to ask Charles when he started to realize that his feelings towards that same Max Verstappen he had known since childhood had begun to change into something else, something bigger, something terrifying he couldn’t - or wouldn’t - quite put his finger on, he would say that it all started with a crash. Because of fucking course it did.

OR: The slow-burn story of Lestappen that has brought me back from the dead, which starts with Max's crash at Silverstone in 2021.

Like Snow At The Beach (Weird But Fucking Beautiful) (part 2 of Devils Roll The Dice (Angels Roll Their Eyes) Rated E | 17,064 words | Completed

The wedding of Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen was always going to be a grand affair. Not necessarily because it had been either man’s dream to make a big deal out of getting married, but simply because they knew so many fucking people. And because Charles had mentioned once — in passing, ages ago, long before Max went down on one knee and proposed — that he had driven past a property in Italy he’d found so beautiful that he’d had to stop the car in order to have a proper look, and that upon walking through the grounds of the property, he’d found himself thinking it would have been the perfect venue for a wedding. Max had been hellbent on finding out which property that was ever since.

OR: The lavish wedding sequel to "Devils Roll The Dice (Angels Roll Their Eyes)" that you've all been (hopefully) waiting for.

Stop (You're Losing Me) (part 3 of Devils Roll The Dice (Angels Roll Their Eyes) Rated E | 6,399 words | Completed

And now, here they are, with Charles feeling like he’s the only one making any sort of effort to keep their marriage healthy and happy outside of race weekends. He never would have imagined being married to Max could end up feeling so lonely. Another two hours pass before Max comes out into the living room, where Charles is sitting on the couch with a bowl of Andrea-and-Brad approved pad thai from their favorite takeout place just down the street, rewatching Money Heist for what has to be the tenth time. Max stops at the end of the couch, frowning down at the Monégasque. “I thought we were going out for dinner?” Charles looks up at him, face expressionless. “We were.” Max points at the bowl. “But you ordered takeout?” “I did.” “Why?” “Because our reservation was two hours ago, babe, and I was hungry.”

OR: Max and Charles have been married for 3 years, and it turns out marriage isn't always beautiful. Sometimes, it's ugly and tiring and painful.

Mona's comment: This series is what got me back into writing after a 7-year long hiatus from fic writing, and I treasure this series so much because it's what got me to make a Tumblr blog again and fully embrace the F1 fandom after being into F1 for 20 years.

19 Times The Grid Saved Lestappen (And One Time They Didn't Need To) (part 1 of Lestappen + The Grid) co-written with @f1writingbyme Rated M | 16,107 words | Complete

In that exact moment, all Charles wants to do is grab a hold of the front of Max’s stupid Red Bull polo and pull him into a kiss. He’s just about to do it, too, when a pen comes flying out of fucking nowhere, hitting Max smack dab in the face. It brings them both out of their little bubble, and Charles turns to see Lando standing a good distance away from them, already in the process of yeeting another pen in their direction. Charles reaches out to catch it before it can hit Max again, putting his reflexes to good use. Next to Lando, Carlos nods his approval at the catch. “Lando, what the hell?”

OR: Keeping Charles and Max from accidentally outing themselves to the whole world is becoming a full-time job. and Lando decides to enlist the entire grid to help him out.

18 Times Lestappen Tried To Hide Their Relationship (And One Time They Failed) (part 2 of Lestappen + The Grid) co-written with @f1writingbyme

Charles is pretty sure he is going to die of a heart attack at the age of only twenty-six because of all the sneaking around and almost getting caught every time. The only positive thing they have going for them is that they haven't been caught yet. How that's possible, Charles isn't sure, but he thinks it might have something to do with the fact that their friends either aren't paying much attention or are just plain stupid. Charles secretly hopes it's the last one. But of course, luck is not on Charles’ side, as one Mr. Lando Norris, tucked away in the safety of his driver's room on the other side of the paddock, is typing away on his phone.

How (Not) To Third Wheel Lestappen co-written with @f1writingbyme Rated T | 10,344 words | Complete (for now)

Lance doesn’t know which of his emotions is more overpowering; the secondhand embarrassment he feels at how blatantly obvious they’re being, or the fact that watching Max and Charles in their own little world is actually kind of cute. He realizes it’s the secondhand embarrassment as he watches Max shamelessly grin at James and proudly explain that he was just talking to Charles. Lance has to resist the urge to roll his eyes, especially when he notices how Charles is quite literally the embodiment of the heart eyes emoji where he’s standing next to Max for his entire interview. And the beeline Charles makes for Max as soon as he hands the microphone to Lance after his P2 interview is even worse than the heart eyes. He definitely should have been paying attention to that group chat, Jesus fucking Christ.

OR: There is a WhatsApp support group chat on how to deal with being top 3 with Max and Charles. Lance hasn't been paying attention to it at all, and lives to regret it. And then others suffer at the hands of Lestappen as well.

Mona's comment: Writing fics with Ilse is one of my favorite things in the world to do, and I can't even begin to describe how much fun it is to write all our Lestappen + the grid fics.

The Wonders of Valentine's Day (Or Whatever) Rated E | 9,933 words | Complete

Max, having completely lost the ability to speak, just stares at the sight before him, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. What the actual fuck? “Hi?” Max phrases it like a question. Charles grins at him. “Hello,” he greets, and Max watches as the grin fades away as Charles’ gaze moves down Max’s body, one eyebrow lifting. It’s only then Max realizes that he never put on pants after his shower, and is standing there in his bright orange Netherlands jersey and black boxers. It takes every ounce of his willpower not to let the internal panic he’s currently experiencing show on his face.

OR: Max isn't a fan of Valentine's Day. Charles is a menace on a mission to change that. Naturally.

Mona's comment: This was just a self-indulgant fic I wrote due to my own dislike towards Valentine's Day, but let me tell you, I had a blast from start to finish while writing this.

The Seasons of Heartbreak co-written with @f1writingbyme Rated T | 14,075 words | Complete

As the ‘I can’t do this anymore’ slipped from his lips, Charles missed his exit and continued straight ahead, unable to fully see the exit sign through his tears. The tears fill his eyes as quickly now as they had done in his car that day, and Charles finds himself realizing that he hasn’t felt happiness since. Not even once.

OR: When two men are hurting from a break-up, they can only use each other to make it right again. But they have to realize that first.

OR: The seasons of heartbreak, seen through the eyes of both Max and Charles.

Mona's comment: The sheer amount of tears shed while writing this, my God.

#Asks #Anon asks #Lestappen fic recs anons #Lestappen fics #Lestappen fic recs

161 notes · View notes

marauderundercover · 2 months

Text

Babies??

Marinette blinks at the toddler Jason was holding (badly) in his arms. She’d left her boyfriend alone for one patrol. One. It wasn’t even technically morning yet. Not even a full patrol had gone by. And yet.

“Do I even want to ask why you have a baby?” She asks, tiredly. Jason winces.

“Okay, so it’s not what it looks like.” He starts and she groans.

“Jay! What did you do?”

“It wasn’t met! Well, I mean, I’m the one who brought him back here, but the kid told me at the start of patrol that he was technically benched. And I didn’t really wanna get lectured for letting the kid stay out instead of sending him back.” He rambles, and Marinette frowns.

“Are you- Jason, babe, love of my life, are you telling me that the toddler in your hands is one of your brothers?” She asks, already feeling the migraine coming on. Jason nods solemnly.

“Yeah. And I’m pretty sure he’s not potty trained.” He says, glancing at the toddler. Who had been scarily quiet since Jason brought him in. Marinette frowns as that realization sets in, stepping closer to the two. She tilts her head, looking into the eyes as she tries to figure out which of her boyfriend’s brothers had had the misfortune of turning into a baby again.

“Tim?” She says quietly. The toddler grins, his mouth full of tiny little baby teeth. Holding out her arms, Marinette grins as Tim leans towards her. Taking him from Jason, she cuddles him close to her. She’d heard things about Tim’s childhood. And not that she would ever say it aloud to the kid, but she often thought about how lucky Jack and Janet were that they didn’t live long enough for her to give them a piece of her mind.

“So, uh, what do we do? Most of the kids I’ve ever watched are like, a lot older than this.” Jason asks nervously. Marinette walks into the kitchen and grabs a piece of paper off the notepad from the fridge.

“I’ll write a list of supplies for you to go get. Any idea how long he’s gonna be like this?” She asks. Jason shakes his head.

“No, it was some sorcerer. I could ask B, but…it’d kinda feel like betraying the kid at this point.” He says. Marinette raises an eyebrow, handing him the list.

“Are you sure that it has nothing to do with the fact that both of you would be getting a huge lecture?” She asks. Jason opens his mouth to argue, then snaps it shut and sighs.

“Okay, yes. You caught me. Will you watch him so I can go get this stuff?” He asks. Marinette nods, pulling him down to give him a quick kiss.

“Of course, love. I’ll be here.” She says, turning her attention to the toddler patting her cheek. She grins at him, scrunching her face to make him giggle. Spinning around a little with a laugh, she freezes when she realizes that Jason has frozen by the door, staring at her with a dopey look on his face instead of leaving to get the supplies.

“Jay?” She says, concerned that maybe the sorcerer got him with something too.

“We should have one of these one day.” He says, nodding at Tim. Her eyes widen, and his do as well as his words register his face turns bright red. “I’ll be back soon!” He says, turning and rushing out the door. Marinette stays, frozen in the middle of the living room, shocked. Blinking, she looks down at Tim.

“Well. That just happened.”

#maribat #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat jason todd #jasonette #mgi civil war 2024

180 notes · View notes

demaparbat-hp · 3 months

Note

Hi there. ^_^ ♥ First, LOVE your art!♥

2nd, for your Katara joins Zuko in hunting the Avatar AU idea, I have a question. :)

If originally Zuko was hunting him to restore his honor, but now he's part of the White Lotus, does this make the White lotus evil? (The kind that think they're doing it for good, but they're delusional, because their idea is clearly bad.)

Or, if they're not evil, what is Zuko's new reason for hunting the Avatar, if not for his honor? :)

Hello, and thank you for the question!

I hope you don't mind me making this a sort-of continuation to this post, but the replies are connected, in a way.

Now, it may come as no surprise that I love to play with canon divergences. So it stands to reason that one minor change to canon became the basis for Zuko's character in this AU. Mainly, that he stayed behind with Azula to eavesdrop the rest of Ozai's audience with Fire Lord Azulon, and thus was witness to the latter demanding his death in exchange for Ozai's right to the throne.

Zuko, unable to sleep that night, is wide awake when Ursa comes to see him. He delays her, deeply afraid of what's happening, and follows her silently through the dark halls of the palace when she leaves. But Ozai intercepts her. Ozai kills her, and Zuko watches.

It changes everything and nothing at all at the same time. Zuko's desire to be the Perfect Prince isn't because he wishes for his father's attention and love—instead, it comes from a place of grief. Zuko's is a simmering rage that drives him to one day take the throne (the very same throne that turned his mother to ashes and gave her no ceremony) from Ozai in revenge. But to do so he first needs to be ready for it.

Zuko learns to listen. Slithering through the shadows of the palace and pushing himself beyond his limits. But the Agni Kai happens. And when everything is lost, Zuko turns his misfortune into an advantage.

Uncle had started to introduce him to the White Lotus before his banishment, so Zuko becomes a member after he's fully healed. He makes the best out of what little he has—a crew full of agents, traitors and dissidents, and a position and name in the Fire Nation military that, while precarious in nature of his banishment, still allows him certain sway from within.

Time passes, and he grows. He goes to missions for the White Lotus, puts a stop to several plans for minor invasions and battles (nothing major, as to not cause suspicion) and works hard and subtle to better things wherever he goes.

He makes plans. Reckless, half-impossible plans to depose of his father. But they are useless and, most often than not, bloody.

The conditions of his banishment are clear. He is stripped of all titles and rights as Prince and can never set foot on the Mainland ever again. He's no longer the Crown Prince to the Fire Nation and has, by the Divine Law of Agni, no right to the throne. That is, of course, unless he does the impossible, captures the long-missing Avatar, and brings them to the Fire Lord. And that, for obvious reasons, is not an option. It hasn't been an option for the last one hundred years.

Until it is.

Capturing the Avatar is not something Zuko does to regain his honor or earn his father's respect (the first, because he had never lost it; the second, because he's never had it in the first place). It is a necessity. Something he must do if he wants to reclaim his title as Crown Prince, take the throne from his father and end the war once and for all.

But, let me tell you a secret. This AU? It was born because I woke up one day with a single phrase repeating itself in my head, over and over again:

The Prince refused to play Pai Sho, not because he was bad at it but, rather, out of boredom—he never lost a single game.

And that's just it. It's a game.

He can't take an untrained, childish fifteen year old Avatar to his father. But he can give the kid enough time to get ready. Chase him around, play the Bad Guy, push him away from the real dangers out there. Oh, he will deliver the Avatar to the Fire Lord—he just needs to keep his cover as loyal prince long enough for the boy to play his part and become a fully realized Master.

The Gambit is dangerous and double-edged, but all of Zuko's moves on the board are part of the same strategy. This, after all, is just another game of Pai Sho.

And he never loses.

#dema answers #atla #zutara #zuko #avatar the last airbender #katara #hunters au #Katara joins Zuko AU #zutara au #fire lord ozai #uncle iroh

137 notes · View notes

fresamilkwrites · 1 year

Text

COLLIDE ━ Javier Peña [Narcos, 2015]

summary. Javier's profession has been getting in the way of your relationship for far too long, and you two seem to have become passing ships. What's the worst that could happen if you went out drinking with some friends in an attempt to forget about your misfortunes? original request. Ok so, Javi Peña x fem. You've been together a while, during the height of the Escobar case he's always at the office and you're just passing ships. You're feeling a bit down and go to a club with friends. You harmlessly flirt with a stranger all night only to discover you're in a narco hotspot and Javi&Steve are about to raid it. author's note. This is my first requested fic and I'm so excited to finally be posting it! I also chose happiness and ended up starting a narcos rewatch while working on this... someone save me from this addiction (please don't).

[ ❥ ] pairing. javier peña x fem! reader

[ ❥ ] word count. 2.7k

[ ❥ ] genre. angst

[ ❥ ] warnings. No actual use of "Y/N". Angst. Explicit language. Mentions of alcohol and intoxication. Mentions of guns and gun violence. Mild physical abuse if you squint (not ill intentioned, just an accident).

Check on Javi.

You read the sticky note on the fridge, licking a spoon clean of peanut butter after making yourself breakfast. The eternal reminder staring right back at you like it had done for so long now.

You actually hadn’t for a few days, checked on him that is. It was getting hard to.

Javier’s job was never an easy concept to get around. DEA agent appointed to the highest profile case they ever had on their hands… they had it tough and you were perfectly aware. You basically signed up for this, but after weeks that turned into months of his endless work days, it felt like there was close to no room left for you in his life outside of when he’d randomly show up at your door looking for some stress relief, desperately kissing you without a hello and later leaving almost right after he was done.

And you tried to be supportive, as much as you had it in you to be. It started with dropping off lunch for him every morning at work, that slowly turned into a big coffee jug just a few times a week and now it was only the occasional call. A call you almost dreaded to make, specially since everything you did in an attempt to keep up with him was rarely received the way you wished it to.

It wasn’t that Javier was trying to be rude or hurt your feelings, you knew that. But he was so stressed… he never managed to pick up the first time you called, and whenever you’d go by his office it was hard to not feel unwelcome when entering his hectic environment, even if he didn’t let you go without a swift and rushed kiss on the lips. A kiss that to you felt like a “thanks, doll. Now go away please, I have things to do.”

A faint, melancholic smile appeared on your lips as you moved through your apartment and fell onto your couch, looking back at how things were before the case got so serious. The summer Javier and you met was like a fever dream… day trips to the beach, constantly waking up together, trying his horrendously strong coffee for the first time, any time he playfully laid his full bodyweight on you, his shooting lessons, going out drinking and dancing even though he has two left feet.

Then you realized, it’d been forever since you had gone out dancing. Something had to be done about it… you were so caught up with feeling abandoned that the fact there were still enjoyable things to do out there and other people to do them with, went completely unnoticed within the valley of your thoughts. You decided to take some action, and after basically jumping to the phone and dialing every single one of your girlfriends’ numbers, all of you collectively agreed to attend a new cumbia night club downtown that none of you had gone to yet.

By the time the night came, you were ready for your plans. Your hair down, flowing in waves and a tight, beautiful, sequined, one sleeve mini dress perfectly wrapping your figure. You finished the look with some matching heels and jewelry, giving one last look at the mirror before you went right out the door after hearing the familiar honk of one of your friend’s cars.

The ride to the club was the perfect way to start the night. All the girls looked beautiful, and while catching up, laughs and excitement quickly bubbled up from within their souls. Everyone was getting on the party mood, specially since they knew you wanted to relax and forget about the streak of bad luck your relationship was going trough. They knew well about your relationship with Javi, and while a few of them sometimes mentioned that “you should find someone who can give you the time you deserve,” they still were aware you loved him and stayed supportive of you and your decisions.

Upon arriving to the packed club and getting assigned a table, it was in no time that all of you had bright colored cocktails in your hands. After little observation, it was evident that the place was beautifully decorated, neon lights and mirrors bringing the tropical party vibe. The music was amazing and the energy was immaculate; people drank, laughed and danced around, making it inevitable to easily loosen up and get lost in the celebration spirit.

Looking around, something caught your eye. A man at the bar watching you with a slight smile and a glass in hand. His dark hair, big nose and mustache immediately reminded you of a certain someone. The mystery man held your gaze, and in return you raised the glass between your fingers towards him.

He reciprocated the gesture. Cheers!

“I just flirted with some guy!” You screamed over the music after bringing your attention back to the table full of girls. A mix of surprise, excitement and cluelessness spread amongst all of you. “He kinda looks like Javi.”

Some laughs and sarcastic eye rolls this time. Of course he did. “That man lives in your head rent free!” Claudia dropped.

And how could he not?

“He can be Javier tonight. Just have fun!” It was Marina dropping some input this time. “He isn’t here to do anything about it.”

That was true. Besides, it didn’t have to be more than just some innocent fun… feeling the joy and validation of having some stranger’s attention at a club.

“You’re right! You’re right!” A shrug before you downed the rest of your first drink. “It’s not like that’s bad anyways.”

Perhaps it was, you wouldn’t be happy to find out the man you loved and had been with for over a year, was going around town flirting with pretty girls at the bars.

Did you just call this random stranger pretty? Looks like it. You needed another drink. Fast.

And you did get it, and another one after that, and then you stopped counting… some of them sent as presents by the man sitting at the bar. The effect of the alcohol of course being unforgiving towards you. Suddenly you were a social butterfly, laughing and dancing around along with all your friends who were now in very similar positions, except for the ones that were now flirting and having fun with their newly met, club boyfriends for the night.

After doing a small turn in your place, your body was met with a hand shamelessly being placed on your waist. Suddenly the man from the bar had moved all the way to you, and he seemed to be making himself too comfortable within the bubble of your personal space. “Wanna dance?” He offered and you quickly nodded your head, the alcohol clouding your reflexes as you were simply glad he didn’t straight up ask for a kiss.

You were now at a point where your head was a blur, you started to feel clumsy. Maybe it was time to go home but everyone else seemed to be having so much fun, you didn’t want to ruin that.

As you continued to dance around with the man you hadn’t even bothered to put a name on, you started to notice a lot of weird movement around the club. Some people quickly moving from one side of the room to another, some also seemingly leaving with urgency… it felt like things were happening quickly in your surroundings and your foggy brain was barely catching up.

But as the friendly stranger pulled you closer, the music stopped and the lights were turned on. People complained and looked around in confusion, but trough the door quickly came a swarm of armed men. Either police officers or a cartel, you could only assume considering your understanding of what your eyes were seeing could easily be ambiguous. Without a warning, all hell broke loose; people ran around, screamed, law enforcement tried to control the situation. You desperately wanted to think of something; move, run, hide… but you froze, and didn’t snap out of it until the first gunshot was fired.

“Fucking hell!” You screamed like many others in the room, absolutely terrified. One of your friends pulled you quickly, almost dragging you under the table. The man you had been dancing with now nowhere to be found. “What the hell is happening,” a terrified murmur left your lips, the shooting continued.

Serves you well for trying to have fun.

You remained under the table, desperately trying to ignore the situation you were in while the palms of your hands fixed over your ears in an attempt to muffle the noise. At some point the piercing sound of the gunshots ceased, but arguing continued. Other attendees closer to the door seemed to start moving, probably getting evacuated, and suddenly, you felt yourself get pulled from under the table with a firm tug to what you thought was going to be your first time being used as hostage.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?” He screamed in your face and you immediately felt yourself get small in your place. The world around you two seemed to be moving erratically, but your eyes were fixed on Javier; the man now holding you harshly from your arm. His fingers digging into your skin, the fear born simply from the thoughts of what could have gone wrong now turned into anger.

Forming a sentence was impossible, not even a peep while a million thoughts and emotions ran trough you, the main one being how he had never yelled at you like that. Javier screamed your name and shook you slightly, but once again he didn’t get a response, causing him to curse and start pulling you towards the exit quickly. Anger and frustration oozing out of him in waves. From what you could see on the way out, the raid was a conjoined effort between the Colombian police and the DEA which now seemed to be under control. Some people were arrested and the evacuation had started. Javier managed to easily avoid the crowds, his hold strong around your wrist while he did this.

The two of you made it to his car, where he finally stopped dragging you around. The brunette looked at you with a frown, his body towering over you as your back clashed with the door of the vehicle. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, your eyes immediately moving down to the pavement.

“Do you not know all the shit that’s happening with all these fucking narcos right now?” Javier spoke with gritted teeth, his hands now placed on his hips as you looked back up. He was trying to keep his cool, but his efforts were proved to be unsuccessful when he yelled again. “You couldn’t just pick up the damned phone and talk to me instead of running to make stupid decisions?”

“Even if I had tried, it would have taken me five business days to get ahold of you!” Now it was you yelling back, anger bubbling from deep within you, born from all the emotions you had been suppressing for weeks. The alcohol and adrenaline running trough your veins making you react badly to his entitlement. “By then I would have already been killed in—!”

“Don’t you fucking dare say that!” He raised his tone even higher, forcing you to shut up as he moved his hand to your face, pressing his fingers on each side of your jaw so firmly that it hurt. His body now pressed against yours, pushing you against the car.

“It’s the truth, Javier! I never see you anymore, I can barely get you on the phone!” You immediately clapped back, the anger seething trough your teeth before you sighed heavily, tears immediately pooling in your eyes before they spilled like bottled up emotions, streaking down your cheeks until they got your lover’s fingers wet. You closed your eyes, embarrassed. “I’ve missed you so much, I just wanted to have a good night for a change."

Javier’s expression was suddenly painted with confusion, this feeling within him being born from the realization of what he was doing. His harsh hold relaxed before he completely let go of your face, your tears had instantly brought him down to earth. He fucked up, he hurt you in more ways than one and now the way he was acting seemed to be almost as if he was trying to punish you for that too. It crumbled him to see you cry, even more when he knew it was his fault. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” he ran a hand over his face with frustration before he pulled you into his arms. The closeness immediately getting the box you’d locked your feelings inside to open wide, your salty tears immediately forming stains on the fabric of his button up while he held you close, his thick fingers getting lost in the strands of your hair. “For screaming, for hurting you and for making you feel that way.”

“You’re everything,” he said your name softly, you could only sob in the familiar safety of his arms. It was freeing that you finally said how you felt and that he understood, but it didn’t make it any easier to get back to normal. Inside you’d felt like your relationship was beyond saving for weeks, all while being unable to bring yourself to bother him with that conversation. “I can’t lose you.”

Another familiar voice was heard from afar over the noise of the commotion. “Hey, Peña,” it was Steve, but Javier quickly shut him down by making a dismissive gesture with his hand. He realized it was about time he prioritized you over the job, at least this once. It’s not like they needed him when there were over a dozen other officers on the scene.

Right now he just wanted to be with you.

“I don’t want to lose you either,” you managed to mumble as you hugged him back, your small hands being softly placed on his back. It was true, that man leaving your life had become your biggest fear the moment you fell for him and it had gotten hard to see that possibility appear to be closer and closer every day.

“You won’t.” Javier dropped without even thinking about it. “That’s not on the table, it’ll never be.”

And you believed him. He was a man that kept his word after all.

You breathe in deeply, calming yourself down. “Can we go home?” There was still many things to go over, and a lot of stuff to put on the table together for the sake of actually seeing a change in your current dynamic, but it felt like you’d had enough for a day. It brought you peace to be with him in that moment, and after the stress you had been submitted to in the past hour, on top of the high alcohol levels in your system, you couldn’t think of anything better than to get in bed and leave any worries for another day.

“Of course, sweetheart.” The brunette let go of the embrace and placed a kiss on the top of your head, moving his hands to clean the leftover tears off your cheeks. “Let me just go find your friends so they know I��m taking you and, uh, sort some shit out. Is that ok?”

With a faint smile on your lips, you nodded calmly. “That’s ok.”

After that, he moved to open the door and help you into the passenger seat of the car. “I won’t be long,” Javier reassured before he left you inside the comfortable warmth of the vehicle, and from there you followed him around with your eyes, watching his moves intently. He quickly found your friends and while they seemed to get into a small argument, mainly because they appeared to be mad at him, he looked like he stayed calm and the issue was quickly settled. After that you saw him walk over to Steve, he seemed to explain the situation to him, and his partner nodded calmly in agreement.

As he walked back to you, you heard him yelling over the noise, “call me if you need anything!” To what the blonde replied with a simple, “don’t worry about it!”

Finally, he got into the driver’s seat. Your sight not leaving him for a second.

“Did I mention you look beautiful?”

499 notes · View notes

c-e-d-dreamer · 2 months

Text

Take My Hand, We'll Be Fine (Promise I Won't Let You Down)

A/N: did you really think I could go all of @sjmromanceweek without posting some Nessian? I just think there's no better romantic gesture than telling your hot neighbor to dump her piece of shit boyfriend, ya know? 😉 Special shout-out to @dustjacketmusings for giving me this prompt!

Read on AO3

They’re fighting again.

Cassian swipes up his television remote from his coffee table, muting the game currently playing. He doesn’t even need to prick his ears or listen closely to make out the muffled voices filtering through the wall to his right. Doesn’t need to try hard to recognize the rough, clipped voice and the more feminine, cool tone that answers. He can’t quite make out the words being said, but it’s easy enough to guess. It doesn’t help that this is practically the norm for the apartment next to his.

He still remembers the first time he met his next door neighbor, Nesta Archeron, the day she moved in. Even in that moment, even with her hair messy, her cheeks pink, and a large box hefted in her arms, she had been the most beautiful woman Cassian had ever seen in his life. Her face was all sharp, beautiful lines, high cheekbones and arching eyebrows. Her eyes had been a stormy, piercing blue that had enraptured him as soon as their gazes met. Her pretty pink lips twisting into a scowl had him wanting to drop to his knees right there in the hall, fire blazing through his chest to meet that expression.

Could anyone really blame him for being a goner from that moment on?

He’d found any and every excuse to see her again, to talk to her again. Casual run-ins in the hall, in the lobby. Getting the mail at the same time. Going down to the laundry room at the same time. Anything to see her roll her eyes at him. To see her give that expression that he’s deemed her I Will Slay My Enemies look. Anything for the game of back and forth he built with her full of quips and retorts that always leave him wanting more.

Anything to see her smile. To hear that beautiful breathy melody of her laugh. To watch the way her eyes light up when she talks about something she’s passionate about. To catch that softness that takes over when she talks about her friends or her family. Every tiny piece she hands over Cassian tucks away close to his heart. And every interaction, no matter how small, no matter how much time passes in between, leaves him yearning for more.

And he’s learned a lot about Nesta through those interactions. He learned that she has two sisters, one who lives in the city and another who lives in the countryside. He learned she’s a damn good lawyer and definitely his first call if he ever needs to be bailed out of jail. He learned that she’s a terrible cook and has a serious affinity for ordering takeout most nights. He learned that she has a serious book addiction if the endless bookstore packages are any indication.

And he learned that she has the worst boyfriend Cassian has ever had the misfortune of meeting.

Cassian still isn’t sure how Tomas was able to get a woman as beautiful and as amazing as Nesta to agree to a single date with his sorry ass, let alone agree to be his girlfriend. The bastard clearly doesn’t know what he has, how lucky he is. That a woman like Nesta Archeron is incomparable. And yet, Cassian has seen the way his eyes have wandered to the blonde in 4C’s ass. Has witnessed the unimpressed, bored expression he wears when Nesta is speaking. Has heard the unnecessarily rude and sometimes cruel words he flings carelessly at Nesta.

The last one in particular always has Cassian’s blood boiling, dark tendrils constricting through his chest until he’s glaring daggers at the man in question any time he sees him in the apartment building. He wishes he and Nesta were more than just neighbors just so he could tell her what a piece of shit her boyfriend is. Wishes it wouldn’t be weird if he suggested she dump him.

He wishes he could tell her how he really feels, how he swears he’s already falling for her despite their limited interactions. How he fears that there will never be anyone else for him. Wishes he could show her what it’s like to be with a real man, one who respects her. One who genuinely cares about her and isn’t afraid to show her, to shout it from the rooftops. He’d treat her right, treat her so much better than Tomas ever could.

A door slams next door, and Cassian is on his feet in a moment. He glances around his apartment, looking for something he can quickly grab as an excuse. The last time he had heard a crash come from next door, his worry and concern had consumed him enough to send him propelling out of his own apartment and banging his fist against Nesta’s door. But things had been awkward and tense when Nesta answered the door seemingly alright, and when Tomas demanded to know what he was doing, Cassian had ended up stumbling over his words, too distracted by a pair of icy blue eyes swimming with questions. So this time, Cassian ties off his half full trash bag and hauls it up out of the bin.

“Will you hurry up?” Tomas’s voice reaches Cassian as he yanks open his front door. “You know that I don’t like to be late to Sullivan’s, or else we won’t get the best seats at the bar.”

“Maybe if we went to a proper restaurant where you can make a reservation instead of the same dive bar every week, we wouldn’t have this problem,” Nesta answers him, and even before he lays eyes on her, Cassian can perfectly picture the way she must be rolling her eyes.

“Maybe if you didn’t take so long doing your stupid fucking hair–”

Tomas’s words trail off when he notices Cassian standing in his now open doorway. Already, the man looks annoyed at his presence, jaw clenching with a restraint scowl. The sight has an easy smirk tugging up Cassian’s lips, how fast he’s able to garner such a reaction, but he only has eyes for Nesta.

She has on a short, dark blue dress, black flower lace overlaid on the silky fabric. Black heeled boots further elongate her legs and the skin on display, the tantalizing lines of her collarbones highlighted by the dress’s neckline. Her hair is styled in her preferred braided crown, but a few strands curl around her temples and frame her face, and Cassian knows he’d give anything to curl one of those strands around his finger. With the pink dusted across her cheeks and mascara heightening the icy blue of her eyes, he has to swallow hard and clear his throat before finding his voice again, struck dumb by the beauty of her in front of him.

“Nesta,” Cassian greets, finally flicking his gaze back to the other man in the hall. “Tommy.”

“It’s Tomas,” Tomas snaps back, his sneer only deepening when Cassian shrugs in response. “What are you even doing?”

Cassian’s smile is all mocking and teeth, holding up the trash back in his hands. “Just taking out the trash. Maybe Nesta should consider doing the same.”

Whether Tomas understands the double meaning or not, Cassian doesn’t get a chance to find out. Nesta steps forward, linking her arm with her boyfriend’s with a quiet, murmured reminder that they’re running late. They continue down the hall, Cassian watching them until they vanish around the corner, until he hears the quiet ding of the elevator.

He closes his front door with a soft sigh, glancing consideringly back toward his television still playing the game, but then an idea hits him. It’s a risk, most definitely stupid, but maybe he’s always been a bit reckless. Rushing back toward his living room, Cassian grabs his phone where he left it, opening up the text chain with his family.

Anyone down for drinks tonight? Found a new bar we should try

~ * * * ~

Sullivan’s isn’t much to write home about as far as bars go. Posters and photos litter almost every free inch of space on the walls, a pool table set up to the right, and round high top tables and bar stools arranged around the rest of the space. The bar juts out from the wall in the center of the room, bottles lining the shelves. It may be the nicest dive bar Cassian has ever set foot in, but it’s still a dive bar, the stench of beer and sweat heavy.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Azriel sighs from Cassian’s right.

Cassian turns toward his brother, but Azriel’s attention is elsewhere. When Cassian follows his gaze, he finds Nesta and Tomas sitting at one of the high top tables. Her back is ramrod straight, fingers curled tightly around the glass of wine sitting primly in front of her, but Tomas doesn’t seem to notice. He sips casually from a beer bottle, his attention focused more on the patrons around him.

“Isn’t that your neighbor?” Mor pipes up from Cassian’s left. “The one you’re in love with?”

“Is Nesta here?” Cassian asks innocently, refusing to meet either Azriel or Mor’s gaze. “What are the odds of that?”

“If I’m playing wingman tonight, you owe me so many drinks,” Azriel grumbles with a shake of his head.

“Drinks on Cassian?” Mor teases, looping her arm with Azriel’s and dragging him toward the bar. “I like the sound of that. Let’s order all top shelf.”

Cassian rolls his eyes good naturedly, but he follows behind his family, buying the first round of drinks after all. He lets Azriel and Mor get settled, lets them chat about their respective weeks and jobs, and all the while, he stares across the bar at Nesta and Tomas. He doesn’t understand how anyone can sit across from Nesta Archeron and ignore her. How they can want to do anything other than bask in her presence. How they could care more about a freshly out of college girl clearly working the pool table just for free drinks.

“So, I need a favor,” Cassian begins, interjecting into the conversation swirling around him.

“I’m surprised you waited this long,” Azriel remarks dryly.

“Very funny,” Cassian fires back, turning his attention to Mor and offering the blonde his best, most winning smile. “I need you to go flirt with that guy over there.”

“Seriously, Cass?” Mor huffs, her face exasperated.

“Please? I’ll buy your drinks for the rest of the night. The best wine they have. However many glasses you want. Especially if you can somehow make an accident happen that gets him away from the table.”

Mor narrows her eyes, scrutinizing him, her eyes dancing briefly toward the table across the bar. “This Nesta better be worth it.”

“Trust me,” Cassian assures her quietly, unable to stop from smiling. “She is.”

Cassian isn’t sure what Mor sees on his face, but her expression softens. She rolls her eyes fondly and swipes up her glass of wine, slipping off her bar stool. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she strides her way over to Nesta and Tomas, plastering on a wide, flirtatious smile. It’s certainly entertaining for Cassian, watching his friend work. She twirls the blonde strands of hair around her fingers, places her hand on Tomas’s arm, makes a big show of laughing loudly at whatever is said. It would almost be comical if Tomas wasn’t eating up every second.

“Come on, Mor,” Cassian mumbles under his breath. “Hurry it up, already.”

“You really need all the help you can get, don’t you?” Azriel sighs, setting his now finished drink on the bartop.

Azriel steps around Cassian and heads toward the table as well. He makes eye contact with Mor, some sort of silent agreement passing between the two, and then Azriel is walking behind her. His arm brushes along her back, Mor’s cue to fake stumbling forward a step, her half full glass of wine spilling right across Tomas’s shirt and pants.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Tomas’s voice carries even to where Cassian is sitting. “Do you have any idea how expensive this shirt is?”

Tomas storms off toward the bathrooms, Mor hot on his heels and offering overly innocent apologies. She winks at Cassian as they pass, and Cassian has to stifle a laugh into his hand to keep Tomas from noticing him. One last glance to make sure Tomas is gone and the coast is clear, and Cassian wastes no time cutting his way across the bar and sliding into the now vacated seat across from Nesta.

“Some date, huh?” Cassian jokes lightly, Nesta’s attention snapping to him.

“Cassian… what are you doing here?”

Despite the question, Cassian swears he sees Nesta’s shoulders start to relax from where they’re pitched up near her ears, swears he sees what looks suspiciously like relief flood through her eyes. He lets it fuel the hope swarming and twisting in his gut, the warmth blooming between his ribs and tightening around his heart like a golden thread. He knows he could easily play the whole thing off as a coincidence, shrug the question away with mentions of his family and their drinking habits.

But he knew the gamble he was taking by crashing Nesta’s date tonight, and maybe, this is his chance. His chance to show Nesta just how much she already means to him. To prove to her that he can treat her better.

“Your boyfriend sucks,” Cassian says rather than answer her question.

Nesta blinks a few times in surprise, eyebrows pinching slightly. “What?”

“Tomas. He sucks ass, and you should absolutely dump him. I’m serious, Nes. You deserve so much better than his sorry excuse.”

“You seem quite sure of that, do you?”

“Yeah, I do. I might not have known you very long, but I know that you’re beautiful, and you’re smart, and you’re witty and passionate, and you care so much about your sisters and your friends. And you deserve someone who cherishes you. You can do so much better than that piece of shit.”

Cassian’s words hang in the space between them, the rest of the bar fading away into nothing until it’s just him and her and the sparks and electricity charging the air around them. Nesta stares at him like she’s never seen him before, like no one’s ever said things like that to her before. It sends cracks ricocheting like icy claws through his chest. Especially, when Nesta drops her gaze away from him, fiddling with the stem of her wine glass.

It leaves him wanting to find whoever in her past has her unsure, wanting to go track down where Tomas has vanished to and punch him in the face for making her curl into herself. It makes his determination to show her what it could be like harden even more, makes him want to spend the rest of his life properly cherishing her if she’ll let him.

“I don’t know about all that,” Nesta offers, her voice quiet.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Cassian asks instead, reaching his hand across the table and skating his fingertips across the back of Nesta’s hand, drawing her attention fully back to him.

Nesta sighs softly. “Cassian—”

“Let me prove it to you. Prove what it could be like, should be like. Prove what a good date is. Prove that I’d treat you better.”

Nesta thinks about it for a moment, emotions flitting through those blue eyes faster than Cassian can decipher. But then Nesta is slipping out of her seat and grabbing her purse, turning away from him. Cassian’s heart sinks through his feet and the floor, and it takes all his willpower to keep his disappointment off his face as he watches her.

“One date,” Nesta tells him, looking back at him expectantly.

“One date is all I need, sweetheart,” Cassian assures her, jumping out of his own seat. “Now, let’s get out of here before Tomas realizes what’s hit him.”

Cassian grabs Nesta’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together and leading her out of the bar. Her hand feels right in his, his fingers curled around her own, their palms pressed together, and Cassian knows in that moment that he has no intention of ever letting go again. He uses his free hand to dig his phone out of his pocket, working quickly to get everything ready, to make everything perfect for this opportunity, but he’s still nervous by the time they arrive at their destination.

Nesta’s steps pause as she glances around them. “Our one date is going to be at our apartment complex?”

“Don’t you trust me?” Cassian asks, holding open the door for her.

“You sure are asking a lot for this one date.”

“And the night is still young.”

Cassian offers her a wink for extra good measure, earning a laugh from Nesta in return. The sound is light and easy, the melody wrapping around Cassian’s limbs as surely as it wraps around his heart. It might just be his favorite sound, the way her blue eyes light up along with the reaction his favorite sight, and he can’t wait to draw even more laughs out of her.

He leads the way back up to their floor, all of the paper and plastic bags he expects waiting right outside his apartment door. He sends up a silent prayer to the Mother in thanks that so far everything is going to plan.

“What’s all this?” Nesta asks, eying the bags as well.

“Well, I noticed you order a lot of takeout,” Cassian explains, gathering up the different bags and unlocking his apartment door.

Nesta scoffs even as she steps inside and into his apartment. “Are you judging me for being a terrible cook?”

“Never. I’ll have you know I actually love to cook, so we’re a good pair, but I didn’t really have time to prepare anything tonight, so I figured I’d order everything I’ve worked out to be your favorites based on what you seem to order the most,” Cassian explains, setting all the bags down on his kitchen counter and beginning to pull the different containers out. “Crab rangoon from Bar Bao. Butter chicken and basmati from Urban Tandoor. Garlic breadsticks and ravioli from Tony’s. California rolls from Black Dragon. And triple chocolate cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory.”

Nesta is silent, staring wide-eyed at all the food, at him, so Cassian turns to grab plates just to give his hands something to do. When she still hasn’t said anything, he clears his throat awkwardly, pushing a hand up and through his hair.

“So…” Cassian starts, handing a plate over to Nesta. “What do you think?”

“I think you might just get a second date after all.”

—

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @isterofimias @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @books-books-books4ever @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune @that-little-red-head @readergalaxy @thesnugglingduck @kale-theteaqueen @tarquindaddy @superflurry @bri-loves-sunflowers @lady-winter-sunrise

#nessian #sjmromanceweek2024 #nesta archeron #cassian #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #nesta x cassian #acotar #acosf #my fic

107 notes · View notes

midwesternvibes · 25 days

Text

Time for more Seperated Leo Human AU! (I really need a name good lord-)

As promised, we now get to look into Leon's lore! He's a funky little guy, and shockingly well adjusted!

Lore drop under the cut!

His full name is Leonardo Tomás Esposito, and he is quite proud of it! He picked it out himself when he was about 10 years old, and he's happy to say that he still loves it to this day! (Fun fact: all of the names have double meanings to them hehe)

But anyways, his Mamà is in fact, NOT Big Mama (but it was a solid guess!), her name is actually Mia Esposito! (+10 Fandom points to anyone who can guess her full first name) She is a full time nurse and used to travel around the several NYC hospitals as an on-call nurse, but once Leon was born she stuck her roots down to one and has been there ever since!

She's actually an incredibly interesting character (with her very own arc!) with a lot of depth and meaning. She grew up with her Puerto Rican mother and Italian father, but after a series of misfortunes and despair, she ended up immigrating to NYC to start a new life for herself. About 10 years later she began raising a baby all on her own as a single immigrant mother in New York City (Sound familiar?). Whenever Leon asks about his father she tells him that she doesn't remember his Papá, only that he had the same almond-shaped brown eyes as her baby boy....

But ultimately she doesn't remember him hahaha maybe Leon should stop asking questions and get back to studying!

(Leon knows that she's hiding something, but ultimately he doesn't care about his father that much, he just assumes that he did something to hurt his Mamá and wants nothing to do with the man at all)

Leon and his Mamá are very close, they're very similar to Percy and Sally Jackson from the PJO series, and they would definitely fight God for each other.

Leon was raised very much with the mentality of "It takes a village" and has many aunts and uncles and relatives in the hospital staff that he considers family. Mia couldn't really afford childcare as Leon grew up, as it often came down to food or rent for the month. The hospital staff saw this and absolutely adored little baby Esposito, so they were more than happy to raise him alongside their own children. Mia owes her life to this staff and considers them her family through and through.

As he grew up, Leon saw all his favorite people as nurses and doctors and considered each and every one of them heros. He decided very early on that he wanted to be a doctor when he grew up, and after a terrible injury when he was 14 it cemented the fact that he wanted to be a pediatric surgeon, to help kids just like him.

But the issue is, Leon and Mia definitely do not have enough to cover medical school for Leon on a single nurse's income, even with all the jobs that Mia and Leon have taken over the years. That's why Leon NEEDS the athletic and valedictorian scholarship, without it he won't be able to achieve his dream. The only thing standing in his way is.....

THE HAMATOS

(Except Michael, he's a gift)

Leon is willing to do ANYTHING to get those scholarships, but his Mamá always reminds him that the Hamatos might need it just as badly as he does, and that's about all that's keeping him from REALLY doing anything to hurt/sabotage them. His Mamá has instilled a really strict moral code into his psyche and he won't actually do anything to them, he just....really wants to give his Mamá a better life, one she deserves.

Although, he is kinda curious as to why the Hamato brothers have the same eyes as him......

First // Previous // Next

Whew! That was pretty much just a really intense ramble, sorry there was no actual structure to that, I just really wanted to talk about my Leon lore! Props to anyone who figures out the significance of all the names, and to clear up any confusion, Mia is Half Puerto Rican, half Italian, and Leon is 1/4 Puerto Rican, 1/4 Italian, and 1/2 Japanese (but shhh he doesn't know that yet) and obviously he's got that amazing vitiligo (shout out to anyone and everyone with vitiligo, y'all are amazing and beautiful)

Thanks for reading my lore dump, see ya next time for..... huh idk yet, vote ig

See ya next time!

50 notes · View notes

leasstories · 3 months

Text

Perfect timing

Eddie Munson x gn!reader

@noneknxws ‘s VALENTEBUARY

DAY 8: showing up when needed the most

No Trigger Warning

WC: 0.5K

Eddie’s van has been a mess lately, it starts one time out of two, and obviously, his precious van decided not to start when he was going to go home from work and not the other way around.

Eddie sigh, he just wants one thing, going home to his partner and now this is going to be delayed because of his precious but annoying van. But in his misfortune Eddie was lucky because he just saw your car park right next to his van. It wasn’t planned, you didn’t tell Eddie that you would come by to his workplace, but you had decided to as soon as you headed off of work, as you missed your precious metalhead too much. You and Eddie both open your respective car doors simultaneously and meet in between the two cars. Eddie hugs you tight.

“Hi baby, watcha doing here?” He asks.

“Missed you two much.” You say, muffled by his chest.

Eddie chuckle. “I’m so lucky you’re here” he says.

You raise your head confused. “Lucky?” You ask puzzled.

“Yes, My van decided not to start…” Eddie says, embarrassed. “If you weren’t here, I would have had to walk home.”

“You should change that van Eddie…” You say.

“First of all, I love my precious van, second of all we do not have the money baby…” Eddie answers.

“I have the money baby, I could buy you a new one.”

Eddie kisses your forehead. “I know you could, but it is too much my love.”

“No, it’s not, I want you to return to me in one piece Eds” You say, seriously.

“Let’s talk about it at home, ‘kay?” Eddie asks.

You nod and open your passenger door for him, you then climb on the driver’s seat and start the ignition.

“You really showed up with the perfect timing baby.” Eddie says, appreciatively.

“I knew my baby needed rescuing.” You joke.

Eddie laugh, a full belly laugh. Once his laugh has died down, he says seriously. “Marry me?”

You turn your head so violently that you could have given yourself a whiplash. “What?” You ask.

“Oh lord, I promise I have the ring and I didn’t plan on asking you like that but it is true baby, you always have my back. And I love you so much, there is no one else I’d wanna marry. No one else I’d want to share my life with. So please, Marry me?”

Tears are starting to stream down your face. “Yes,” you answer keeping your eyes on the road.

“Yes I’ll marry you.” You add.

“Park the car on the side.” Eddie says.

“Why?” You ask.

“I wanna kiss my fiancé.” Eddies simply answers.

You park the car, unbuckle your seatbelt and turn toward Eddie. He cups your face in his two large palms and kisses you passionately.

“I love you,” He says.

“I love you too.” You answer, smiling, your lips still close. And with that, Eddie kisses you a second time. And here’s how Eddie Munson asked you to marry him, during a car ride. Eddie knows you are his other half, he loves you unconditionally and you are always the

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson is a sweetheart #based on a prompt #eddie munson lives #valentebuary 2024

97 notes · View notes

doiefy · 4 months

Text

nct 127 as cursed college profs

very partially based on stupid shit i've had the pleasure and misfortune of seeing in my own classes. happy finals season girlies </3 i rise from my casket of inactivity to bring you the shit post i wrote on the subway on the way to an exam. whose class do you think you'd survive?

cw: cynical college humour because i'm coping, adult humour

taeil: not even that old, but barely knows how to use technology. spends the first 15 minutes of lectures trying to figure out zoom, then the rest of the time poorly explaining quantum mechanics from a textbook written 20 years ago. trips down the stairs two days into the semester and goes on medical leave, only to be spotted on vacation a week later. no one even gives him shit for it.

johnny: originally the cool, chill prof who occasionally went out for drinks with his classes, until he realized he was cool and tried to get even more hip with the kids. now he uses bad memes in his slides and films tiktoks in his lab. the number of students who ask to get drinks with him significantly boosts his ego, but no one tells him they’re doing it just to cross “drinking with a prof” off the frosh bingo card.

taeyong: the sweetest, loveliest, kindest soul you will ever meet—except he’s only taught twice in his life, just got put in as a replacement for a prof who tripped down the stairs, and gives you the most god-awful final exam known to man. he’s also stressed out (on your behalf) at any given moment, to the point where he just passes everyone with an 80 and calls it a day.

yuta: the hip, fashionable prof who only serves looks and random commentaries on society in the middle of his lectures. undergrads fight to the death to join his research group, but the ones who make it eventually realize he spends most of his time partying with the department’s money. yet still, groundbreaking work comes out of his lab every year…

doyoung: retired from research a few years ago to teach full time, but not a single person knows why. he may offer the clearest, live-saving explanations in his lectures—but he constantly looks like he wants to go home and will decimate your entire existence with a single look if you ask anything about the syllabus two weeks into the semester.

jaehyun: the hot single prof. every single freshman girlie has a sickening, concerning, fanfic-esque crush on him. some go as far as nearly failing his class and then booking office hours with him before finals, only to find out that he’s been using Doyoung’s teaching material for years, without credit. he is very much horrendous at teaching on his own. and very much gay.

jungwoo: wanted to go into early childhood education, somehow got coerced into doing his masters, then his phd, then post doc, then— still fulfills his dreams by treating his students like kindergarteners. this includes gentle parenting of frat boys who won’t shut the fuck up during class, handing out healthy vegan treats, and encouraging “mindful moments” while you write the hardest exam he has ever administered.

mark: refuses to teach because he doesn’t think any of the kids will take him seriously, is forced to anyways by the department. as a prodigy so fucking removed from what it’s like to be stupid, he ends all his quantum lectures with “this is pretty straightforward,” and books it back to his lab on an electric skateboard. yes he built it himself. no he won't let you try and ride it.

haechan: shares an office with mark and spends most of his free time figuring out which organic compounds he can mix together to perfectly recreate the texture and smell of cum. if he doesn’t show up to class, it’s because he’s terrorizing pigeons on the street for science. shows gruesome videos of explosions and chemical fires for a chemical safety lecture. has had the fire alarm pulled on him at least twice.

#nct #nct 127 #nct texts #nct imagines #nct fanfic #nct scenarios #nct timestamps #nct blurbs #nct dream #taeil #johnny #taeyong #yuta #doyoung #jaehyun #jungwoo #mark #haechan #shitpost

95 notes · View notes

hoodharlow · 6 months

Text

The 3rd Act

AN: everyone thank that anon 🤪

Requested? By anon

Warnings: breakup news, messy comments, and shady posts 👀

Word Count: n/a

@'pagesix: Kentucky native, Jack Harlow and the daughter of Mateo Dominguez and Isabela Miller, Miriam Dominguez-Miller, split after two years from a source close to the Grammy nominated rapper. Details on why the couple split aren't known, but both remaim friends and still support each other's projects. Click on our bio for more

@'mackstan: I just fell to my knees 😭

@'miriamfan: they were just promoting Jack's cameo in SZA's music video 💔

@'mackshipper: April fools is in April, not rn

@'jackstan: as much as I joke about wishing Jack was single, this is lowkey sad

@'miriamhater: kinda pathetic that her name is always attached to her parents

View all comments

•••

@'mdm: just entered my Broadway era 🥺😭 In all seriousness, I feel super honored to be part of the cast for the 30th anniversary of The Nightstmare Before Christmas. Being on Broadway is a dream come true and I want to thank everyone who's been so supportive of this. Can't wait for y'all to see what the cast and I have in store. Opening night on October 6th <3

@'katdominguez: since when did you stop being scared of this movie

-> @'mdm: I'm faking it till I make it 😭

@'saintclauds: proud of you bestirini 🥺

@'zendaya: already booking my ticket. I'll be in the front row

-> @'theestallion: get me a ticket too, I'll venmo you

-> @'Kehlani: me three

@'haileybieber: excited for this!

@'miriamstan: and when she wins a Tony then she'll be the youngest EGOT winner 🤭

-> @'miriamhater: yeah thanks to nepotism

View all comments

•••

@'jackharlow: Denver out now

@'nuggets: 🔥

@'urbanwyatt: this was everything

@'shloob: ain't missed on a vid ever

@'nicolescherzinger: everything about this was breathtaking

@'twittergirlie: what if they posted the breakup news to get people talking about them so they could release their projects and get hype

-> @'mdmxjh: they don't need to provide fake news to get people to talk about them. They just have the misfortune of having people not root for their relationship like Justin and his wife

View all comments

•••

Jack Harlow via Instagram Stories

•••

@'justjared: more than co-stars? Euphoria star, Jacob Elordi, and the daughter of Mateo Dominguez and Isabela Miller, Miriam Dominguez, were spotted out in New York. The Australian also shared a picture of himself with 24 year old actress backstage during rehearsals for their Broadway production of The Night Before Christmas. 🔗 in bio for more

@'internetstan: this mf collects nepo babies like infinity stones

@'jackfan: the New Balances, she knows where her loyalties are lol

@'miriamfan: the matching outfits down to brown shoulder bag 😭 Jack could never

@'zendayastan: isn't Miriam friends with Z? The number one rule of girl code is to no go after your friend's ex

-> @'miriamfan: first of all, Miriam and Jacob have explicitly said they are friends and co-stars. This is some bs click bait. Also Z and Miriam were spotted getting lunch a few days ago. I don't think Z cares her friend is working with Jacob. Do you think Z came for Laura Harrier when they did some perfume ad together or at Hunter who had several scenes with Jacob in Euphoria. This is work. People are bound to work with their friend's exes.

@'mackshipper: why only post this angle. There's a video on tiktok where a bee kept following Miriam and Jacob was using a paper to remove it off her

View all comments

•••

@'mdm: I adopted Daisy Flor Dominguez-Miller three years ago. Miss when she was a puppy and not the sassy it girl that she has become

@'JosephDominguez: your ass still owes me for helping your sneak her in the house

@'medegutierrez: Panchito's bestie 🦦

-> @'calumhood: Actually Duke is Panchito's bestie, he told me himself

@'40yearoldweirdo: bring back natural makeup like this. None of that caked up shit

-> @'mdm: literally wearing full glam with lashes and a brown smokey eye be so fucking fr you weirdo

@'mackstan: they really broke up huh 😪😔 no more Jack being unserious in her comments 💔

View all comments

•••

Jack Harlow via Instagram Stories

•••

@'jacobelordi via Instagram Stories

•••

@'jackharlowsource: some behind the scenes of 3D

@'jackxmiriam: he's in his outfit flop era. Miriam would style him DOWN

@'jackfan: he's on to better things like working with literal idols

-> @'miriamfan: Miriam introduced them when she and JK filmed their Calvin Klein ad. She's the reason why he has these connections

@'jackstan: can Miriam stans leave y'all are being annoying 🙄

View all comments

•••

@'chismepage: awkward moments at Jay Z and Michael Rubin's Reform Alliance charity casino night when recent exes Jack Harlow and Miriam Dominguez-Miller, walk past each other with out another word. Sources at the party mentioned that Harlow greeted Mateo Dominguez and Isabela Miller, but curved their youngest daughter whom he had been in a two year relationship. It's still unknown why the couple split up. 🔗 for more

•••

@'zendayac.96: Z at the opening night of The Nightmare Before Christmas supporting long time friend Miriam Dominguez-Miller

@'zstan: two Emmy award winning besties

@'mackshipper: did anyone happen to see Jack 😭 I'm holding out for hope

-> @'tomsdaya: hold out for delusion bestie

@'twitterstan: need them to play lovers in a movie like yesterday

View all comments

•••

Clay Harlow via Instagram Stories

•••

@'jackharlowsource: Jack at the Lousiville and Notre Dame game today on Oct. 6th

@'jackstan: since when does he have a dump truck back there lol

@'mackshipper: 😔 I was hoping he'd go to opening night 🥺 his parents, Clay and Clay's girlfriend went

@'miriamhater: he's living his best life now that the annoying nepo baby is done riding his coattails

@'twittergirlie: the mullet is mulleting

View all comments

•••

@'jacobelordi: conquering opening night jitters the Evans siblings way

Comments have been limited

•••

@'mdm: no big deal just me at mother Kelly Clarkson's show talking about my directorial debut and Broadway then I closed the show with a teaser for Last Dance. Before y'all do your conspiracy theories, Tenemos Que Hablar was about my character and her first love interest. It has nothing to do with my personal life. Anyways watch me embarrass myself talking about the Justin and Kelly movie

@'mdmxjh: she left THEE Kelly Clarkson GAGGED with how effortlessly she did that note

@'twitterstan: nepotism aside Miriam is so fucking talented. The pop girlies are lucky she's mainly an actress.

@'mackshipper: was she shading Jack in her new song?

-> @'miriamfan: re-reading her fucking caption. It was made for the movie WAY before they broke up 🙄🙄🙄

@'saintclauds: you're a staurrr

@'andreiiosivas: Spotify when

@'Alinahunter: literally obsessed qith you 🥰 can't wait to see you on stage 1937383 more times

@'zendaya: YES!

View all comments

•••

@'saintclauds: my bestirini joined me on today's episode of Girl Chat. We talked about ice makers, Libra men with pretty hair and going back to school in the middle of performing a Broadway play

@'mdmfan: I love me some Miriam and Claudia 🤞🏻 they're so funny together

@'miriamstan: as an immigrant kid can she not set a new standard for us academically 😭 my mom is gonna be on my ass bc Miriam is doing her masters and Broadway at the same time

@'saintclaudsxmdm: when they would go 👀 at each other and change the subject 🤭 they have so much chisme lol

@'miriamhater: she couldn't even mention Jack's name when she talked about the movie 🙄 she's so annoying

-> @'mackshipper: can you leave her alone? If she doesn't want to mention Jack she shouldn't. She's not obligated to just because they were in a movie

View all comments

•••

@'andreiiosivas: 🎁😎🥰

@'mdm: *Schmidt from New Girl* A libra man?! No!

-> @'andreiiosivas: why your surprised? The second thing you asked me what my Big 3 were 💀 I'm taking the icemaker back

-> @'mdm: no <3

-> @'miriamfan: Ariana what are you doing here

@'NFL: Joe Burrow gave him the best birthday present

@'saintclauds: no I get it

-> @'medegutierrez: 🦦

-> @'Alinahunter: okay I see it 👀

-> @'giahunter: y'all are so inconspicuous 😭 but 👀👀👀

@'twittergirlie: why are Miriam and her friends here 👀

@'twitterstan: he's a Libra man with pretty hair 👁👄👁

View all comments

•••

@'jackharlow: Here I come

@Druski: miss you gang

@'claybornharlow: let's fucking GOOOO

@'laufey: hyped

@generationnow: 🔥up

@'miriamhater: a diss album 🤭 drag that bitch

@'messyman: idk if you saw but your ex bitch is in some other dude's comments

@'miriamfan: as long as he doesn't diss Miriam we're good

@'mackshipper: I'm a sucker for breakup albums but not my parents </3

View all comments

•••

@'miriam_spottings: Miriam out with Princeton Alum/ Cincinnati Bengals wide receiver, Andrei Iosivas, after her sold out show at Minskoff Theater

@'twitterstan: are football players the new trend 😭

@'mdmxjh: I'm a child of divorce fr 💔

@'miriamfan: everyone was worried she was with her co-star only for her to pop out with an NFL player. It's kinda camp if you think about it 😭

@'mackshipper: no shade but damn that was quick

@'mdmstan: Miriam’s back in her WAG era we love to see it

View all comments

•••

@'jackharlowsource: More videos of Jack at @'thehubpm

@'mdmfan: I'd be blasting corny breakup music too if my ex (that was WAY out of my league in the first place) was seen with a fine ass NFL player who went to an Ivy League

@'miriamfan: when you're at football games but her new man is IN them 😭

@'jackstan: Jack don't embarrass me like this be strong not petty 😭

@'jhxmdm: I didn't want it to end like this 😔

View all comments

Taglist: @sativachilombo @heavyhitterheaux @cherry4everrr @carma-fanficaddict @youngharleezy @youngharleezyxo @babyharleezy @that-90s-girllll @alinaharlow @harlowcomehome @nattinatalia @webinurcloset @gassyandsassy1 @jackharloww @awhore4moree @noescapricho-essentimiento @neon-lights-and-glitter @purecinnamonextract @whywontyoulovemecami @camificrecs @itsyagirljaz @w1ldthoughts @vanwritesfan-fiction @xxkoolkatxx

#jack harlow #jack harlow instagram au #jack harlow insta au #jack and miriam #jack harlow angst

130 notes · View notes

livingdreams97 · 3 months

Text

Rhaenyra Targaryen -"The Personal Guard." (Part 6)

Rhaenyra Targaryen x Male reader/oc

Summary: The barely known third son of Lord Lyonel Strong, surprisingly ends up becoming the personal guard of none other than the Targaryen princess, after an incident in the forest.

Words: 3.690

Masterlist

Rhaenyra POV

I was more than nervous. I never thought I would feel nervous on my wedding day, I always imagined this day as a dark day full of misfortune. But it was the opposite of what I imagined.

I had barely been able to close my eyes for more than half an hour, being awakened by the excitement and nerves of the day.

Today would be the day I would officially and publicly join Y/n Strong. Today I would become his betrothed officially and he would be mine, today we would unite as one in front of the gods and I couldn't be more excited.

The preparations for the wedding had been quick. Just two weeks ago I was arguing with my father about the unfounded rumors of his former hand and fighting not to be forced to marry Ser Leanor Velaryon.

And after two hectic weeks, due to the organization of the wedding, the banquet, the dress and everything that goes into the preparations for the big day. The big day had arrived.

In these two weeks my father put another personal guard on me and I hadn't been able to see Y/n more than passingly during this time. But today I would finally see him, I would see him walking towards me and at the end of the day I will be in his arms again.

Although I can't help a bitter feeling, when I am aware that I will experience one of the happiest days of my life and that my mother will not be with me on such an important day.

I would like to be able to live this with her, listen to her talk about how happy she is for me and telling me that she was right; like I did when I was a girl.

I would like to know that you are proud of me, for having left behind the negative idea of getting married and having chosen the best man in all the kingdoms. I would like to have her by my side to calm my nerves, hug me and whisper to me that everything will be fine.

But even though she is not by my side, I know that she watches me from the heavens and that she is happy for me.

Nora: Are you nervous, princess? - my trusted servant asks me, getting me out of my head.

Rhaenyra: Terrified.- I admit with a nervous laugh.

Nora: Don't worry, everything will be fine.- she assures me, placing her hands on my shoulders and leaving a reassuring squeeze.

Nora has been my personal servant since I can remember, always by my side and taking care of me. She was something of a mother figure, especially after my mother's death and Alicent's betrayal.

Rhaenyra: I know.- I nod, taking a deep breath. -But I can't help but feel nervous.- I admit, biting my lip, seeing my reflection in the mirror and realizing that I'm completely ready.

Nora: Nerves are good.- she assures me with a smile. -That means you care.- she explains to me without removing the smile from her face and I return the gesture.

We both remain silent, while Nora helps me with the last details of my hair and a doubt invades my head.

Rhaenyra: Am I doing the right thing? - I let the question hang in the air without stopping to look at my reflection in the mirror.

Nora: Do you want to marry Lord Strong? - she asks me back after a few seconds of silence.

I remain silent at her question. My mind immediately searches for every existing memory of every conversation, every touch, every word, every gesture, every interaction, every sensation and every detail of Y/n Strong towards me.

The fact that with a mere smile from him my day becomes happier, how with each of his gestures towards me they make me feel protected and loved, just like the feeling of his worked hands leave a path of softness. and delicate all over my body. About how every tiny thing he does for and for me makes my heart race in an exorbitant way.

Rhaenyra: With all my soul.- I respond bluntly with total sincerity and with a smile completely flooding my face.

Nora: Then you're doing the right thing.- she assures me, placing the last ruby in my hair and taking a step back. -You're ready, princess.- she informs me with a slight smile.

Rhaenyra: How do I look? - I ask her, turning towards her and biting my lip with some insecurity.

Nora: Perfect.- she answers me with a smile full of sincerity.

Rhaenyra: Do you think Y/n is going to think the same? - I ask, feeling my body vibrate in anticipation of her response.

Nora: No.- she answers and my shoulders fall at it. -He won't be able to think of what to say to you with how dazzled you are going to leave him.- she finishes answering me, making my spirits rise and a warm sensation settle in my chest.

Rhaenyra: Okay.- I whisper, trying to calm myself down.

Nora: Ready for the first day of seven? - she asks me calmly.

Rhaenyra: I'm ready.- I assure with a sincere smile.

My feet walk calmly but with a certain nervousness through the castle, feeling the bustle of the people closer with every step I take and the moment of seeing my betrothed becomes more and more imminent.

My steps resonate in my ears and add to a symphony with my heart. Each heartbeat is accompanied by a step and an echoing sound every time my foot hits the ground.

The symphony of my steps along with the beating of my heart stop when I land in front of the entrance to the dining room and the place is full of people for the celebration.

This time it is my breathing, along with the racing heartbeat and bustle of the people that create a symphony of different sounds. But the symphony ends when I hear my name announced to the room.

With a nervous smile, I begin to descend the stairs at the entrance and watch as everyone gets up from their seats to greet me and congratulate me on the imminent event.

I just smiled at them in response and walked as quickly as possible towards the table at the end of the room, where I can see my father standing and giving me a big smile.

Viserys: You look beautiful, daughter.- he says, grabbing my hands when I reach his side.

Rhaenyra: Thank you, father.- I thank him with a shy smile.

Viserys: I'm sure Lord Y/n Strong will be enthralled as soon as he sees you. - He assures me, leaving a loving squeeze on my hands and helping me to what will be my chair during the celebration.

I sit on my father's left side, watching the big houses being announced as they enter the dining room and how the heads of said houses congratulate me on the nuptials as well as my father.

But holding back my smile and holding my tongue against any cruel comment becomes very difficult when Lord Jason Lannister makes an appearance.

But thank the gods, I don't have to endure it for long and it's thanks to the announcement I was most looking forward to.

Ser Harrold: Lord Lyonel Strong, lord of Harrenhal, former councilor of buildings and current hand of the king. - begins to announce. -His first son Ser Harwin Strong, city guard and future lord of Harrenhal. And his youngest son, Ser Y/n Strong, the future king consort.- finishes announcing, causing a wave of applause in their presence and I get up from my chair quickly.

I smile as i see my future husband walk towards me, appreciating every detail of his clothes and face as best as I can given our distance.

POV You

I swallow heavily, trying to calm my nerves and appear as composed as possible. But it is very difficult for me to see the princess looking at me and the sincere smile she gives me.

Everything falls silent, as my father and brother bow before the king and I do the same when it is my turn.

When I stand up, the princess turns and begins to circle the table. I look at my father and he gives me a sign that I can move towards her. Which I do immediately, walking towards where the princess is and holding one of her hands delicately when we are facing each other.

Rhaenyra: Betrothed .- she greets me with a smile full of life and a certain point of fun.

Y/n: Betrothed .- I greeted, without taking my eyes off of hers and leaving a kiss on her soft hand.

The entire room erupts in applause again, but my attention is only on the woman in front of me and her incredible beauty.

Rhaenyra gently pulls at our hands to follow her and places us in front of the chairs we will occupy at the banquet. My father greets the king and takes his place on the right side of the table, occupying his seat as a hand. While my brother Harwin stands next to me and Larys in the corner.

Once the family is in front of their seats, we all begin to sit down and I lean slightly towards my betrothed's ear.

Y/n: You look like a goddess.- I whisper affectionately, noticing how her smile widened and how her cheeks took on a more pinkish color.

She turns her face to answer me, but her words remain in her mouth as everything falls silent at the sudden presence of her uncle, Prince Daemon.

But as soon as he sits down at the table, the place fills again with conversations and the clatter of dishes.

The king rises to give a speech about the union of our houses, but the room falls silent again due to a new presence in the room. But this time it is none other than the queen who enters and dressed in green.

I look at my brother, remembering something he once told me about the Hightowers and that is that when they rise to war the color green is the color they use to summon their bannermen.

But no one but the Hightowers themselves stand up to applaud their presence and color of clothing. The rest remain silent as they walk and approach the royal table. She congratulates us with an evidently forced smile and sits down in the seat to the king's right.

Once seated, the king begins his speech again and congratulates us on the union of our houses, as well as my union with his daughter as king consort. With the speech finished, the music begins to play and the laughter of the people fills the room.

Rhaenyra: Do you want to dance? - she asks me excitedly.

Y/n: Umm I don't know, will you step on me during the dance? - I ask her amused.

Rhaenyra: Maybe.- she answers me with some malice.

Y/n: Then I'll have to take that risk.- i smile, lifting me up and stretching my hand towards her.

She accepts my gesture and with my help gets up from her seat. We walk hand in hand to the center of the room, where there is a space for dancing, and we start dancing.

As soon as we finish the first dance, more people join the floor and start us dancing a new one.

Y/n: Are you happy? - I ask her when we are close enough.

Rhaenyra: With you? Or with the wedding? - she asks me back with a smile.

Y/n: With the wedding.- I respond amused. -I hope she's happy with me, because otherwise I don't know what we're doing here.- I say and she laughs at my comment.

Rhaenyra: You're right, with you you don't need to ask me.- she assures me. -But I would be happier if the wedding was more intimate and quick.- she answers with a grimace.

Y/n: Does seven days seem like a lot to you? - I ask, feigning surprise. -And here I was thinking it was a short wait.- I joke earning a laugh from her.

Rhaenyra: Seven days are too many to be able to call me your wife.- she admits with a smile and I return it.

Y/n: What's seven days with the rest of our lives.- I whisper with a smile before moving on to a new partner.

I continue with the dance, but some screams and a brawl at the end of the room cause everything to stop. I look everywhere, trying to find my betrothed and get her away from any possible danger.

Y/n: Harwin!- I call my brother when I see him among the people. -I can't find Rhaenyra!- I shout nervously, pushing people and trying to find a silver hair.

Harwin: Look to the left and I'll look to the right! - he shouts in response, pushing each person in his path and looking for my betrothed.

Rhaenyra: Y/n! Y/n!- I hear her calling me and look to my left. -Y/n!- I listen again and see her on the floor against one of the chairs.

Y/n: Rhaenyra! - I shout, pushing anyone who gets in front of me. -Are you okay?- I ask, bending down and holding her face in my hands.

Rhaenyra: Get me out of here, please.- she begs me with fear in her eyes.

I place a delicate kiss on her forehead, before helping her up and hugging her against my body.

Y/n: Harwin! Harwin, help! - I shout and it doesn't take more than a few seconds before my older brother is in front of us. -Help me take her to the king.- I ask and he nods.

Harwin: Stick to my back.- he orders me, turning around and I do what he tells me.

I place Rhaenyra between them for her safety. My brother leads the way and I make sure no one touches her in any way.

The king quickly hugs her when we get to the table and she is safe from whatever is happening.

-------------------------------------------------- -------------------

I walk at a fast pace through the corridors of the castle, greeting all the nobles I meet along the way and trying to get to our room as soon as possible.

I was training with my brother, when one of the servants told me that Rhaenyra needed me right now and that it was urgent.

So I had started to run through the castle and try to get to my wife as soon as possible.

Y/n: Rhaenyra!- I exclaimed when I entered our chambers. -What happened? Are you okey? Is the baby okay? - I ask quickly, kneeling on the floor in front of the sofa where she is and I look at her worried.

Rhaenyra: No, calm down.- she tells me with a smile, placing her hand on my head and moving a strand of my hair behind my ear. -You have to cut your hair.- she comments calmly and I look at her confused.

Y/n: I don't understand anything.- I confusedly whisper. -The servant told me that you needed me urgently, I had thought that something had happened to you or the baby.- I commented trying to catch my breath.

Rhaenyra: The baby is fine and so am I.- she assures me, grabbing my hand and placing it on her swollen belly.

Y/n: So, why the urgency? - I ask, relaxing my body.

Rhaenyra: This is why.- she whispers and moves my hand from the center of her belly to one of her sides.

I look at her confused, but when she puts light pressure on her belly with our joined hands, something moves and I open my eyes in surprise. I stare at my wife's belly, completely surprised and excited.

I bring my face closer to the belly, placing one cheek on the fabric of the dress and gently pressing the belly again.

I can feel the movement of our baby again and I can't stop a tear from falling from my eyes.

Rhaenyra: Was it urgent? - she asks with some amusement in her voice.

Y/n: Very urgent.- I whisper still, without separating myself from her belly and feeling how her hands go into my hair.

Rhaenyra: As soon as I noticed it, I asked them to call you.- she whispers, stroking my hair.

Y/n: Thank you.- I whisper gratefully, separating myself from her belly and staring into her eyes.

Rhaenyra: For what? - she asks me confused, taking her hands out of my hair and caressing my cheeks gently.

Y/n: For everything.- I respond with a sigh. -For loving me, for being braver than me to the point of almost forcing me to marry you and for giving me an heir even with your reasonable fear of giving birth.- I list, making her laugh at the comment about the wedding and causing her to grimace at the end.

Rhaenyra: With you I'm not afraid of giving birth.- she assures me with a slight smile.

Y/n: Why? - I asked curiously, raising my other hand to her belly and leaving soft caresses on the spot over her dress.

Rhaenyra: Because I trusted you and I know that you will never do to me what my father did to my mother. - She answers me with a certain pain shining in her beautiful lilac eyes. -Because I know that you love me like I do and that you would put my life before even your own.- she assures me and a tear falls from her beautiful eyes.

Y/n: Rhae.- I murmur, touched by her response getting up from the ground and sitting on the couch next to her.

Rhaenyra: Stupid hormones.- she growls when followed by the first tear, the others come out after her and she begins to cry.

Y/n: Hey no.- I deny when she abruptly wipes away her tears. -You're going to hurt yourself, Ñuho glaeso hūrus (Moon of my life).- I tell her, putting her hands aside and gently removing the tears from her face.

Rhaenyra: I hate these mood swings.- she growls, crossing her arms and looking completely cute.

Y/n: I love them.- I whisper against her forehead, leaving a kiss on the spot and then descending my kisses all over her face.

Rhaenyra: You love them because you can laugh at my expense. - she hits my side and I can't help but grunt from the pain. -What's the matter? I haven't hit you that hard.- she asks me, frowning and with some concern.

Y/n: Nothing's wrong with me, it's just that Harwin has been faster than me in training and has had his fun with me. - I explain with a slight amused grimace.

She looks at me seriously, before reaching her hands towards my black training shirt and starting to take it off. Once the fabric is off my body, she looks at my ribs where a reddish area with small purple parts is located.

Rhaenyra: I'm going to have to talk seriously to your brother.- she comments, caressing the area delicately.

Y/n: Leave it, I hit his butt quite hard. - I comment with amusement, removing all traces of tears from her face and looking at the movement of her eyes.

Rhaenyra: Of course. - She rolls her eyes, letting out a small laugh, before returning her attention to my body.

Y/n: Better? - I asked quietly with a hoarse tone, noticing how my wife's eyes and hand ran over my entire torso.

Rhaenyra: Much better.- she assures me, biting her lip and unconsciously leaning towards my body.

I place my hand on the back of her neck, leaving a caress in the area before pulling her towards me and joining our lips. It doesn't take Nyra more than three seconds to deepen the kiss and moan against my mouth.

Y/n: This is why I love your mood swings. - I comment with amusement, separating myself from the kiss, feeling her hands run over my body and my hands over her.

Rhaenyra: Pervert.- she murmurs against my lips, putting her hands inside my pants and trying to take them off.

Y/n: That's what the person who tries to undress me says.- I laugh, standing up a little to help her undress me.

Rhaenyra: Shut up and take off my clothes.- she growls at me before kissing me hungrily.

I undress her as best I can, trying to do it in a way where our lips don't have to separate and where it is comfortable. But in the end the kiss is interrupted when I manage to release the dress and take it off over her head.

She gets up from the couch, taking off her underwear as best she can and walking naked towards our bed.

Rhaenyra: Are you coming or not? - she asks me maliciously, biting her index finger and looking at me innocently.

I don't respond verbally, but I jump off the couch as best I can and pick her up in my arms quickly, making her laugh. I lay her on the bed, placing myself on top of her and starting to kiss her entire body.

Y/n: I hope little Jacaerys or little Aemma prepare for what's coming. - I comment amused, leaving a kiss on my wife's belly and earning me a slap on the head from her.

Rhaenyra: Don't say that! - She exclaims with amusement and horror at the reference to our future baby.

I just laugh, leaning towards her face and staying a few centimeters away from her.

Y/n: Avy jorrāelan (I love you)- I whisper against her lips, knowing how much she likes me speaking to her in Valyrian.

Rhaenyra: Avy jorrāelan (I love you).- she whispers before hugging me by the shoulders and joining our lips for the third time in a very, very long afternoon full of something more than kisses.

Because maybe the beginning of our relationship was not the most orthodox or the most common. And our wedding may not have been the most pleasant for many, thanks to the death of a close friend of the Velaryon family at the hands of Ser Criston.

But to me, everything about Rhaenyra is perfect and natural. Our relationship arose from sincere feelings and although the wedding was brought forward 7 days due to a misfortune, I only look at the positive side of that day; marrying the love of my life.

Because from that day forward, my entire life is dedicated to my wife Rhaenyra Targaryen and the family we are creating.

Because even now after all the time that has passed since the day we met, just looking at her or feeling her hand touch mine makes my heart beat wildly just like the first day.

THE END

116 notes · View notes