#plus being a woman but also Bc she had to always worry about mai no matter how strained their relationship was | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

snackhobi · 4 years ago

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pairing: min yoonji x reader / word count: 9.7k / genre: f x f smut, assassin!au

summary: a fic inspired by this post and that’s pretty much it-

warnings: sexually explicit content (NSFW), talk about death/assassination (nothing graphic dw! but they are assassins, so), mild violence, unnecessarily sexually charged lipstick application, face riding, fingering, multiple orgasms, oral (f giving/receiving), use of restraints, overstimulation, squirting, kind of dom!yoonji?

a/n: this is an entirely self-indulgent fic I wrote as a gift to myself for my bday, it’s a lil rushed bc I wanted it done for today! women are so very beautiful and I am so very weak, thank you ladies for all being so amazing ily. this was meant to be a short pwp and now it’s almost 10k but I have no regrets bye

la petite mort French literal meaning: ‘the little death’; also an expression used to refer to the brief loss or weakening of consciousness, specifically the sensation of orgasm as likened to death; an orgasm.

“It’s just unacceptable.”

The woman in front of you is clearly wealthy. Her dark hair is perfectly styled and her pale nails are perfectly shaped and her subtle makeup is perfectly flattering; she’s starting to get older but rather than shy away from it, she’s leaning into it, and she looks almost imperious in her beauty, eyes sharp and set of her lips severe. Park Dahye was born into wealth and has clearly thrived in the life that she’s been afforded.

“Mmhm.” You try not to yawn.

“He’s flitting around with some young, silly thing on his arm, with no consideration for the family’s reputation— my reputation,” she continues. Her posture is perfect, from the set of her spine to her crossed legs to her folded hands that rest on her knee, somehow demure and yet highlighting all of her beauty and riches; the jewellery on her wrists and fingers, the expensive heels on her feet, the slit of her haute-couture dress, no doubt tailored for her and her alone. “I’ve already spoken to him about his behaviour, but he’s just ignored my warnings. We may have agreed on the divorce but we’re currently still husband and wife— has he no shame?”

“Awful.” You don’t even try to hide how bored you are, but Dahye is so quietly incensed that she doesn’t even notice as she launches into the next part of her queenly diatribe, and you muffle a sigh.

That’s the problem with rich clients. Sure, they’re willing to fork over stupid amounts of money to you, but they also think that their issues are of paramount significance— like they’re the centre of the universe and their problems are the only important ones in the world. Like you’re interested in what they have to say. Like this is the only job you’ll ever do that holds real weight or meaning.

For them, it’s a life-changing (life-ending) decision.

For you? It’s another Tuesday.

“Yes, yes, that’s just so terrible, gosh, I don’t know how you manage it,” you say once she pauses to take a breath, using the opportunity to cut her off before she launches into another part of her articulate rant. “Anyway. Would you prefer if his death was embarrassing or quiet?”

For the first time since you’ve met, she seems unsettled. “Pardon?”

Namjoon is much better with people than you, smooth and charming with his boyish dimples. Normally any discussions would go through your handler, but this woman had demanded to meet you personally and had been willing to pay for the privilege: so here you are, with your relative bluntness instead of Joon’s winsome smile.

“You know,” you say, gesturing with your hands. “When they find the body. Do you want him to be caught with his trousers around his ankles—literally or figuratively, that’s up to you— or would you rather it seemed like something natural and unpredictable? Like a sudden heart attack in his sleep, for example.”

When it comes to rich clients, a lot of it is about reputation. When someone’s shuffled off this mortal coil, it’s not just that they’re removed from the equation, it’s also about the ripples that their death leaves in the high society that they’ve lived in. Does she want her (soon-to-be) ex-husband made a mockery of, or does she just want him out of the picture?

She can’t see your face, behind your mask as it is, but you can see hers in perfect clarity. For all that Dahye seems put together and almost impassive, you see the tiny flicker in her eyes. Ah. She’s not just mad because he’s ruining their reputation. She’s hurt.

Man, that sucks. Honestly you bet it’s easier being an assassin than a rich housewife. At least when it comes to backstabbing you can literally involve a knife to sort your problems out. (Well, knives are messy, but you get the picture.)

“I’d prefer something quiet,” she decides. “I’d worry that it could lead back to me, otherwise.”

You’d be offended at the idea that you’d leave any trace that could implicate anyone or that this man’s sudden death was in any way suspicious, but she’s paying you enough that you find that you don’t care. You take pride in your work, but for the amount of zeroes involved in the fee you’re being paid, you think you can take an unintentional insult or two. Or three. Or ten.

You like money, what can you say.

“Sure thing,” you say, giving her a lazy, two fingered salute. You’ve been reclining against the desk of the hotel suite, flicking the complimentary, heavy metal pen between your fingers, twirling it like the world’s most underwhelming baton. You straighten up and let the pen drop back into the pen pot—wait, no, of course it’s a handmade porcelain jar, an alarmingly well-made Joseon porcelain replica. Everything in here stinks of money. “RM will confirm where the money is to be deposited. Half of it now as collateral, and half upon completion of the job,” you say. “If you change your mind between now and then, we’ll be keeping the original 50%, but if for some reason something goes awry, you’ll receive that money back. Sound good?”

She seems surprised at your directness. “I—”

“Fabulous!” You clap your hands together, although the sound is muffled by your gloves. You’re not about to leave your fingerprints everywhere, geez. “Alright, time for me to skidaddle I suppose! I’ve got work to be doing, people to be watching, men to be killing!”

Dahye flinches imperceptibly, but by this point you’ve already slipped out onto the balcony and into the night.

Being an assassin is hard work.

Technically, everyone has the capacity to kill another human being. But killing as a job involves a lot more than just caving someone’s head in with a rock—that’s why Cain isn’t referred to as an assassin, what with how he’d just bashed his brother Abel with a convenient stone that happened to be lying nearby. He was just a straight up dick.

No, when you kill professionally you need to be familiar with an array of different techniques, each one far more sophisticated than the last. You need to know how to be stealthy, how to blend in as you watch your target, how to set up the scenes of their death in a way that doesn't arouse suspicion. Or, instead, how to set the scene up in a way that lets any onlookers know that this person had been offed by someone who knew what they were doing, and knew it well. There's a difference between being a killer and being an assassin and you are firmly in the latter category.

So, if your client wants her husband to be shuffled off quietly, then that’s what she’ll get.

They really have pulled out all the stops for this charity gala. Everything is shining, glittering and bright: the surroundings, the food, the people. Especially the people. The rich elite have come together for an extravagant and exquisite night of ostentation and luxury, all in the name of raising money for some needy cause. (You try not to think of the irony and/or hypocrisy behind that.)

It’s almost laughable how easy it is to blend in here. Namjoon had secured (forged) invitations for you both, and so you hang off his arm as you make a slow sweep of the room, trailing unnoticed after your target. You’re not planning to make a move right now but you want to feel out exactly what he’s like: the more information you have about the person you’ve been contracted to assassinate, the better.

Plus it’s an excuse to dress up nice and eat free food— though that last part is mainly Namjoon.

“God, these canapés are so good,” Namjoon moans quietly to you, hoovering up the flaky pastry crumbs from his fingers with single-minded intent. You dig your fingers subtly into his arm.

“I thought we agreed on not eating tonight, Joon,” you mutter to him, although you say it with a beatific smile in case anyone is watching; the place is heaving with people but you’re always on guard. (Even if Namjoon is right. The hors d’oeuvres that are on offer do look incredibly tempting.)

“You have a glass of champagne,” he points out.

“And you may have noticed that I haven’t drunk any of it.” You titter, as if he’s just told a funny joke, and lightly slap his arm. Again, you’re fairly certain no one is watching, but you can never be too careful. “It’s all about creating a facade, Joonie. It’s what we in the business call a ruse.”

Even throughout your back and forth, you’ve kept your eyes on your man of the night: Park Minjae, a middle-aged businessman who’s been greeting people and getting swept up in conversation, all while a slip of a blonde clings to his arm, stuck to his side like a pretty limpet. She’s cute, sure, but she lacks the poise that Dahye has, so you frankly don’t get it. Then again, not everyone finds strong women as attractive as you do. Weirdos.

You’ve been focused on Minjae but your eyes have also been flitting around the room, drinking in your surroundings, drawing up a detailed map of your environment (of course you’d scoped out the building before tonight, but with all the banquet tables and chairs around the layout is a little different). The people, too, have been subject to your scrutiny, although so far they all seem summarily unimportant and uninteresting, just as you’d suspected. You lift your glass to your lips and pretend to take a tiny, demure sip, glancing up through your eyelashes to scan the room again, and you freeze.

Holy shit.

You take back what you just said about everyone being unimportant and uninteresting.

The woman who’s just walked in is fucking stunning. Her sleek dark bob is unstyled, but perfectly frames her beautiful face: sharp eyes, soft nose, flushed lips. Her cocktail dress lets you see almost every inch of those perfect legs, the line of her thighs to her calves and— oh, you swear you could shed a tear of joy. She’s already tall and she’s made even taller by the heels she wears, towering above most of the men here, a fucking Amazonian goddess who looks powerful and undeniably elegant at the same time.

(Thank you for your service, tall women.)

You don’t know who she is, but goddamn, do you want to. She’s scanning the room, and for a brief moment, your eyes touch. A tiny thrill shudders up your spine at the darkness of her keen eyes, that quick and astute gaze.

It’s only the tiniest of moments that’s over as soon as it’s started. The dark-haired beauty looks away and is already disappearing into the crowd before you realise, and it’s only then you notice that you’re staring, utterly drawn in by her cool poise and presence. You’ve been frozen in place with the rim of your champagne glass resting against your mouth, and your eyelashes flutter as you blink and glance down.

The imprint of your lower lip has been left on the glass, stark red visible against its edge, and you squeeze Namjoon’s bicep.

“How does my lipstick look?”

He takes one look at you as he swallows down another tiny vol-au-vent. “Like half of it is missing,” he says, and you frown.

“Ugh. I’ll go touch it up in the bathroom. Keep an eye on our guy, I’ll be right back.”

It’s not until you’ve made it to the toilets that you realise that you do not, in fact, have any lipstick in your ridiculously small clutch bag. When it comes to your actual work, you’re meticulous and thorough and well-planned, but for some bizarre reason, a tube of lipstick is never the top of the list when it comes to equipment. Unbelievable. (You knew you should have worn the 24/7 stuff, but it was always such a nightmare to get off.)

You’ve been so busy rummaging through your bag that you’re completely caught off-guard at the sound of a quiet voice from behind you.

“Lost something?”

Oh, fuck. It’s her, your dark haired and dark eyed beauty, meeting your gaze through the mirror when you glance up from where you’re resting your bag against the marble counter (marble, marble, marble, it’s all marble: the floors, the counters, the sinks; why do rich people always love marble?). She looks altogether too amused at your plight and at how your eyes have widened perceptibly upon seeing her again. But can she blame you? Her presence is so graceful and commanding and she’s so dizzyingly attractive it’s insane. Surely she must get this all the time.

You stare for a little longer than is probably polite, and even behind her fringe you can see how one of her eyebrows rises.

“Sorry for staring,” you say once you notice. “You’re just so beautiful.”

She pauses as she takes in the compliment. You see how her eyes flicker over your face and settle on your mouth; your upper lip, tinted burgundy red, while the lower is faint and smudged.

“Lipstick problems?” She cocks her head at you, still staring at your lips in the mirror. God, she’s so hot.

“Can you tell?” You sound rueful as you glance down at the reflection of your mouth, touching your bottom lip lightly with a fingertip. “I forgot to bring any with me so now I’m stuck.”

She finally looks away from you. You hear a small, metallic click as she unclasps her evening bag— marginally larger than your own— and lifts out a small tube of liquid lipstick. “Would you like to use mine?”

Fuck yes you would.

“Oh, would that be alright?” You finally turn around, and you have to tilt your head back to look at her, taller than you in her heels. Jesus Christ. She’s going to be the death of you. Why are women so gorgeous? Who gave them the right? “I’m not sure the shade will match, though?”

You watch her beautiful mouth curve up into a small smirk as she pulls out a tiny pack of makeup remover wipes from her bag, and you swear could propose to her there and then. Beautiful and tall and organised? Holy shit. What a woman.

She’s got her bag in one hand, while the lipstick and wipes are clasped in the other; her hand is held up in such a way that you think she means for you to take them from her, but when you reach out she shakes her head.

“I’ll do it for you,” she says. The quiet note of authority in her tone makes you go weak at the knees.

Thank god the toilets you chose aren’t the main ones, because it means there’s no one around to see how she tilts her head at the marble counter in the universal gesture of get on there. It’s entirely unnecessary, but you, of course, immediately comply. You brace your hands against the cold stone before hitching yourself up, careful with the draping folds of your dress; the cold touch of the stone is noticeable through the material of your dress, but it’s instantly forgotten when your enchantress steps closer.

You spread your knees so she can stand between them. Holy shit, she’s even better up close. Her lashes are wispy but they’re the perfect frame for her gorgeous eyes, which are dark and intent. You suppress a shiver. You hold yourself still as she leans forward and around you so she can put her clutch and lipstick down, trying to ignore how close she is, but there’s no way she can’t realise what she’s doing. Your heart is pounding. You wish you didn’t have a job to do tonight because you would so much rather be getting, ah, acquainted with this woman rather than following some old businessman around.

The only noise in the bathroom is the sound of peeling plastic as she opens the tiny packet of wet wipes before she curls one around her finger, glancing at you through her lashes.

“Open,” she instructs.

Your mouth drops open immediately. She sweeps the wipe over your lips, bottom, then top, touch firm but careful, drawing away the red from your skin; you stare at her as she works, how her eyes are cast down as she stares at your mouth. She’s using her free hand to grip your chin and you feel deliciously powerless in her grasp.

You purse your lips a little to try and help her, watching the way her eyes flicker as she pulls the wipe back over them— somewhat firmer, this time, with more intent. Lingering. The only barrier between her finger and your mouth is soft and flimsy, the texture of the wipe against your lips like cotton as it drags across them, and it would be so easy to pull it out of her hands.

She flicks the dirtied wipe aside, heedless of how it lands on the unsullied marble, before reaching for her lipstick. She twists the tube in her fingers, motions of her hands precise and deft, and you’ve never been so attracted to how someone’s uncapped something before.

You watch her hands. (She watches you.)

Your eyes trail over the wand as she pulls it out, dragging the doe foot against the rim to catch the excess before turning it towards you, putting the tube by your thigh, near where your hand is bracing against the marble. She takes hold of your chin once again. You stay quiet as she starts to sweep the lipstick over your lips, painting them the same flushed pink as her own. Once again she’s staring at her work so you’re free to drink her in, almost drunk from her beauty, eyes catching on the tiny moles on her pale skin, the smallest freckles that are only noticeable because you’re this close.

The squelch of the applicator sliding into the tube is almost lewd in the silence of the bathroom, and this time you can’t suppress a shiver when she pulls your chin down to open your mouth so she can go back in again on your lips, drawing a sharp, crisp line. Tracing the edges of your lips, the flushed swell of them, the peak of your cupid’s bow.

She glances up. For a moment you’re both still, staring at each other, tension in the air palpable, but then she smacks her lips and you copy the motion, evening the application of the makeup on your mouth.

“Perfect,” she murmurs. “One more step.”

A small, confused frown flits over your face. She’s put the lipstick aside but then she lifts a finger and points towards your still parted lips. You take in a small, shuddering breath when she speaks again and you realise what she means.

“You don’t want to get lipstick on your teeth, do you?”

Both of her eyebrows have risen and she’s looking at you like you’re being silly if you disagree with her.

“No,” you say. You’re not about to deny her. “No, I don’t.”

Your eyes remain locked. You lean forwards, taking that perfect, long finger into your mouth, dragging your lips upwards so that any excess lipstick is caught against her pale skin, a ring of deep rose circling her bottom knuckle; you curl your tongue around her, hot and wet, feeling the crease of her knuckles and pad of her fingertip against your taste buds as you slowly, slowly pull away.

It’s undoubtedly indecent and risqué and you can feel the flush of arousal settling in your lower belly, an almost embarrassing flush of wetness leaking out of you at the taste of her skin. She, however, remains unmoved, although she lets her finger linger just for a moment on your bottom lip, almost rough against their softness— but before you can swallow those fingers back down and ruin her meticulous work, she pulls away, lifting the discarded wipe to sweep it around her finger, catching the lipstick you’d left on her skin.

“Done.”

She steps back and you feel like you can finally breathe, a breath so deep you can feel how your lungs fill, oxygen rushing to your brain so fast you feel lightheaded. You watch as she sweeps everything back into her bag, clicking it shut with a note of finality; the sullied wipe is cast carelessly into a tiny, chrome bin with a flick of a wrist, her every motion regal.

You slide off the counter. You still can’t take your eyes off her and you don’t want to. It feels like whatever heaviness was in the air has dissipated, gone in an instant with a turn of her head— normally you’d let it slide, even if you feel disappointed, but she’s just so magnetic.

“Thank you,” you say. You can see yourself in the mirror now and to your complete lack of surprise, your lipstick is perfect. The shade is lighter than one you’d have chosen for yourself but it’s beautiful on her, of course.

“You’re welcome.” She’s in the middle of washing her hands, but she glances over her shoulder at you, and the firm set to her face lightens a little as she smiles. It’s a small, sly thing, and you realise with a start that she knows exactly what effect she has on you.

I’m coming back for you, you think to yourself. You have work to do tonight, but—

“What’s your name?”

She pauses. She shuts off the tap with a quick motion, reaching forward for a rolled hand-towel, a neat stack on a metal tray nearby. You wonder if she’s not going to answer but then she speaks, looking at you instead of the soft cotton she’s rubbing over her skin. “Yoonji,” she says. “I’m Min Yoonji.”

Min Yoonji is the most gorgeous fucking woman you’ve ever seen.

“I love your dress, Yoonji,” you say, and it’s true, you really do— but you’d prefer it if it was off. Not that you’re about to say that, of course.

She lets out a breath of laughter. “I know.” Oh, god, you love confident women. “What’s your name, darling?”

You have that same split second of hesitation, similar to Yoonji’s only moments prior. You use a codename when you work, of course, and you have a plethora of fake identities that you use and are intimately familiar with— but the idea of your real name falling off Yoonji’s flushed, petal lips? Woof.

“Y/n L/n,” you say.

Oh, Joon would be so unimpressed right now, giving some mysterious woman your full, real name just because you think she’s the sexiest thing since sex, but whatever. What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.

“Well, Y/n,” Yoonji says. You were right, your name sounds so good falling from her mouth, the mouth that’s turned into a small, almost smug smile. “I certainly hope to see you at the charity ball in a few weeks?”

“Of course.” Your schedule has been magically cleared and you’ll definitely be in attendance for whatever ball Yoonji is referring to, even if you have no idea what it is. You only come to these things if you have to for work but for Yoonji you’ll make an exception. You’ll make a hundred thousand exceptions. A hundred thousand quinquagintaquadringentillion exceptions. “I’ll make sure to remember my lipstick next time.”

And there it is, the thing that seals the deal, the final nail in the coffin: Yoonji glancing at you out of the corner of her eyes, a sharp, dark touch that shoots through you as her smile edges into hunger.

“Don’t worry,” she says. “I’m sure it won’t stay on your lips long enough to matter.”

The thing you’ve discovered about Minjae is that, with his divorce due to be finalised soon, he’s apparently lost any sense of routine and is revelling in his new found freedom, which is kind of irritating when you’re trying to tail the guy. Sure, you’re still going to take him out, but you prefer it when targets have some sort of schedule that they adhere to— makes it easier to set up a kill.

“You’re certain that he’s going to be here tonight?” You’d been sceptical considering how the guy’s apparently thrown his schedule out of the window, but Namjoon had been certain.

“Positive.” He’d said. “He’s there every Tuesday night. You’ll have plenty of time.”

The house appears to be deserted. The driveway is empty and all the windows and doors are locked tight. It’s just one of the properties that the Parks own in the city, and for all its size and lushness it appears as though this one is rarely frequented; you imagine that the cleaners and gardeners spend more time here than the owners themselves.

It doesn’t take you long to evade the watchful eyes of security cameras to pick a lock and slip inside. You're grateful for the dying evening light that helps cover your tracks from any onlookers from the street, although you imagine the high walls do good work at preventing people from seeing into the grounds anyway.

There’s still enough light to navigate through the house, the golden tinged sunset casting warm shadows across the spotless furniture and fixtures; you take a moment to let your eyes slide across a huge canvas hanging on a wall that spans two storeys, some impressionist piece that’s surprisingly ugly for all the talent that’s obvious in its brushstrokes. Maybe that’s why the Parks are never here? You’d certainly try to avoid seeing this thing if you could. Eurgh.

Even though the building is empty, you’re careful as you start to make your way forwards. You always place your toes down first whenever you take a step, soundless as you start to map the house out in your mind; there are so many rooms you can hide in, but you’d prefer to be close to wherever Minjae ends up. Saves faffing around later.

You’ll overpower him, inject the toxin into his blood and wait for him to die before setting him up on the toilet— it’s surprisingly common for people to die while on the shitter, the strain leading to an untimely heart attack, especially in older people. The poison you’re using tonight will mimic the symptoms of a heart attack in the case the coroner decides a post-mortem needs to be undertaken.

(Being found on the bog might not be a particularly graceful way to die but when you’re dead it’s kind of hard to be embarrassed.)

You’ve eased the door open into a large bedroom, and you’re just inspecting if it looks like this room sees more use than the others when you pause. It’s deathly silent in this building, the air still minus where you glide through it as you move, but there’s a feeling in your gut, some instinct that makes all the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You freeze, ears straining to catch any noise to let you know if there’s someone else here, when—

There. In the reflection of a burnished pot, the tiniest shifting movement.

You react almost faster than the eye can see. You spin to parry a hit that was aimed for your head, and the strength behind it shudders through your arms. You only have a second to take in the details of your assailant— dressed in dark clothing, masquerade style mask in place, a professional just like you— before you’re deflecting another flurry of blows, flipping backwards out of reach before spinning into a kick, hooking that burnished pot with your foot and sending it flying towards the other assassin.

They dodge it. You both ignore the sound of clattering metal as you lunge forwards, trying to catch them off guard after their sidestep— your fist makes contact with their palm instead of their face, your hand engulfed in theirs, and you startle at their speed. You might not be the strongest but you’re damn fast.

There’s a pause, and you can only see a slither of their eyes through the sockets of their mask, but you can tell that they’re impressed. And honestly? So are you.

The moment shatters when they use the hand they're holding to twist you, locking an arm around your neck and putting you into a chokehold; they’re strong, stronger than you, cutting off your airflow. You need to get out of this before you fall unconscious, but if they’re trained as well as you then they’ll know how to combat the usual ways you’d use to get out of this.

So, in a demonstration of your flexibility you kick a leg up, using the strength of your thighs and calves to slam it into the arm that’s around your neck. Your assailant lets out a noise of surprise and pain as you slip out of their hold and cartwheel across the room before spinning to face them.

There’s a beat. The air is tense. You get another chance to take in the details of whoever’s just tried to choke you out; you stare at her as she stares at you, the two of you poised and ready to strike, watching and waiting.

Knives might be messy but of course you’re not unarmed. You have multiple sheathed weapons in your clothes, though you don’t make a move to draw any of them. Yet. “I suppose you wouldn’t tell me who your employer is, would you?”

Your opponent tilts her head. “You don’t know?” She sounds amused, even through her mask. “Minjae took out a contract on the assassin who has a contract on him.”

Your lip curls back from your teeth. The only way Minjae would have heard about your contract is if Dahye had told him. Presumably to try and shock him out of his behaviour, or something, who knows. “This is the last time I’m accepting a job from these rich old farts,” you mutter.

“That’s for certain,” she says.

She starts to move and you catch her arm just as she goes to unsheathe a wicked looking blade, knocking it aside before she overpowers you and you start to wrestle. It’s messy and graceless but sometimes you just have to fight dirty.

Whoever this woman is, she still has the upper hand because she was expecting you and you weren’t expecting her; she knocks you onto the bed and pins you down, swooping the knife up from where it had been thrown onto the mattress. You go utterly still as she holds it against your throat, towering over your from where she’s straddling your waist and kneeling on your arms. Any sudden movement from you now could lead to your untimely demise— and, unsurprisingly, you absolutely want to avoid that at all costs.

Namjoon would never let you live it down if you were killed on the job.

You hum. “It seems like we’ve reached an impasse.”

She doesn’t respond. The knife doesn’t dip any lower, though; you’re undoubtedly at her mercy but you notice she’s careful to keep the knife still, hovering above the skin of your neck, but not making contact.

“Well,” you continue. “At least I’m going out the way I’d always hoped to.”

Even in the dying light and with how her face is covered, you notice her face shifting behind her mask— a silent, questioning raise of an eyebrow. You give her a cheeky smile that crinkles your eyes.

“In bed with a beautiful woman, of course.”

At this she huffs out a laugh. “Do you flirt with every person who tries to kill you?”

You’re trying to look as non-threatening as possible to keep that knife away from your jugular. The longer you talk, the longer you live, even if you can’t see a way to get out of this situation right now. “Only the pretty ones.”

The small laugh she lets out this time seems more like a scoff. “You don’t even know what I look like.”

“Please.” You roll your eyes. “Any woman who can fight like you and knows how to handle a knife? Automatically hot. I don’t need to see your face to know that.”

The knife still hasn’t moved. She continues to stare you down and you go tense when her free hand moves. She tugs the cloth of your mask down to reveal your face, the air of the room almost cold against the suddenly bared skin, your breaths free to curl out unhindered.

“Usually I like to be taken out to dinner at least once before we get this intimate, but for you I suppose I’ll make an exception.” You’re still grinning cheekily at her, but your mind continues to race as you try to think of a way to get out of this, especially now that she’s seen what you look like—but you suddenly notice that she’s gone very, very still.

“Y/n?”

The grin freezes on your face. Oh, you’re so boned. You’re so very boned. Like, yeah, you’ve been seconds away from death for the past, hmm, five minutes, but this is somehow worse. How the fuck does she know your name?

You’re given the answer almost immediately. She withdraws the hand from your chin and reaches for her own mask. Your eyes widen and your breath stutters in your throat once you see who it is.

“Holy shit,” you breathe.

Yoonji is staring down at you. She’s every inch as imperious and stunning as the last time you’d seen her— hell, even moreso now that you’ve seen what she’s capable of. No wonder you hadn’t been able to find out anything about her after you’d met at that garish charity gala. Because she’s untraceable, just like you.

“Well.” You stare back at her, not even attempting to keep the surprise off your face. “If anyone has to kill me at least I can die satisfied in the knowledge that it was you. Can I make a request? I’d be eternally grateful if you smothered me to death with your thighs. Just a suggestion, feel free to ignore it if you want.”

Yoonji cocks her head. Her bob is tied back, but there’s a loose lock of hair curled by the side of her face that shifts at the motion. Your fingers twitch. If she wasn’t kneeling on your arms you know you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from tucking it behind her ear. Any excuse to touch her. “Do you always talk so much?”

“Hey, if it means I get to feel your legs around my face before I die, I’ll give a full fledged TED talk,” you say. “I have to admit, though. When I pictured us in bed together I didn’t think it would be like this.”

The knife still hasn’t moved from your throat. She continues to stare, as if considering what to do next, though her face remains impassive. “What did you think it would be like?”

“Well, you know. Less knives and clothes involved and a lot more making out,” you answer. “You, telling me what to do. Me, entirely at your command. Anything the lady wants, she gets.”

The human body is a fickle and strange beast. Ever since you discovered who’s straddling you, you’ve been growing wetter and wetter, even if you’re trying not to let on that you’re steadily growing more aroused— you’re still distinctly aware of the knife that’s only centimetres away from your skin, but somehow your body is more focused of the fact that the woman you’ve been daydreaming about is finally in front of you again.

(Well, less in front of you and more on top of you, which is an admittedly preferable option, sans the knife involvement.)

You see how Yoonji’s eyes are darting over your face. No doubt taking in how your pupils are dilated, how your breaths are a little shallower, quicker— signs of fear and signs of arousal are surprisingly similar. You wonder if she can identify which it is. Probably. You’re not exactly very subtle in your attraction to her.

“I forgot my lipstick again,” you add, and Yoonji’s passive mask finally breaks when she rolls her eyes.

“Didn’t I say you wouldn’t need it?”

Even the way she throws the knife aside is gorgeous. The sharp undulation of her wrist as she sends the blade skittering across the polished wood floor is careless and fluid. Her hands cup your face as she bends down, and you send up a mental thanks to any god or higher being who might be listening before Yoonji presses her lips to your and your brain goes blank.

Apparently Yoonji likes it messy. One of her hands is grasping your chin in a mockery of the last time you’d met and she’d painted your lips— your mouth is open and she licks past your lips as you shudder beneath her. She’s still got her knees pressed into your arms, pinning you down, but you desperately crane your head towards her, chasing that kiss; you tilt your head to deepen it, and the whine that leaves you when she pulls away is almost embarrassing.

The sun has finally dipped below the horizon and the room is dark, painted in shades of grey and deep blue. You wish you could see Yoonji properly and you can’t help but wriggle a little underneath her, but then you watch her raise her hands and clap three times in rapid succession before the room floods with dim light. Sound activated lights? Damn.

Yoonji’s mouth shines, covered in a sheen of your mixed saliva, her pretty lips flushed rose pink; even without makeup they’re beautiful and their colour is deep, the blooming petals of a flower. Your eyes trail over her face, down her neck, over the fall of her chest and stomach— you’re both far too covered up in these stupid ensembles of yours and you want to strip the clothes off her. You want to see every inch of her beautiful, majestic body, bared for your lips and hands.

Fuck, she’s so gorgeous.

“Not to, um, ruin the moment, but my hands are going numb.” The weight of Yoonji’s body being pressed into your arms has pretty much cut off the blood flow to your fingers and you can feel the telltale sensation of pins and needles spreading through your skin. “Can I have those back, please?”

Yoonji lifts her knees just enough for you to slide your arms out from underneath them. You immediately shed your gloves and go to grab her ass but she gives you a sharp look and you freeze, slowly settling them on her thighs instead, which she allows with only the slightest raise of her eyebrows.

“Watch,” she commands, and who are you to disobey?

She reaches for the tie in her hair, tugging it out and letting her dark locks fall to frame her lovely, beautiful face. You hungrily swallow down each sight that she feeds to you, the skin that’s revealed as she shrugs off her layers of clothing. She unbuckles the weapons hidden underneath her clothes as she sheds them; she’s a veritable arsenal of firearms and knives, all cast carelessly aside until her upper body is finally, blessedly naked. You’ve been staring at her the whole time, the graceful column of her throat, the delicate lines of her collarbones, and your gaze falls to her breasts, small and perfect, nipples dusty pink and hard. You want to put your mouth on them.

“Holy shit, you’re perfect,” you say.

She smirks. You watch as she rolls her body, lifting up from her knees and standing up, towering above you on the bed—your hands fall to the mattress as she pulls her trousers down, tight material dragging against her skin as she slides it over the curve of her hips and down her long legs. There’s a dagger strapped to her thigh, which she unbuckles and lets fall to one side, but god, if she used it to kill you right now, you would die a happy woman. The image of Min Yoonji towering above you in nothing more than some flimsy underwear is one you want to take to the grave.

You can see how the material around her entrance is darkened with her arousal, and you feel your own body react to the sight, pussy throbbing, your own lower lips slick underneath all your layers of clothing. Yoonji hooks her thumbs into her panties and pushes them down, and you’re enraptured as you watch how the wetness clings to them, before that last bit of clothing is cast aside too.

You moan, unable to stop the sound bubbling up in your throat. From how she’s standing above you, legs spread from how her feet are either side of your hips, you can see everything—how her cunt is flushed, how wet she is, her folds shining. You bet she tastes so fucking good.

You let your mouth fall open, tongue lolling out in a way that’s obscene. You see Yoonji’s eyes flicker as she traces the motion, the way she takes in your expression: wide, hungry eyes, parted lips, wet tongue. Your hands skim up the back of her calves as she shifts forwards and returns to her knees, her naked core so, so close to your mouth, and you dig your fingers into her skin.

“Bon appé-fucking-tit,” you murmur, and then you pull her onto your face.

Yoonji gasps.

(You were right. She tastes so, so fucking good.)

You’re utterly shameless as you slurp up her juices, the wetness that continues to leak out of her as you bury your face into her cunt, tongue lapping over her entrance as your nose brushes her clit. Your hands have moved to the flesh of her ass and you encourage her to grind against you, rolling her hips towards your greedy mouth; you’re staring up at her, drinking down her reactions, the way her face twists with pleasure and the shuddering breaths she takes in, perfect little breasts jumping at the motion. There’s a flush spreading down her neck and chest, pale skin blushing pink, and it’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen.

You purse your lips against her clit, circling it with your tongue before dipping back down between her folds. Each time you breathe in all you can smell is her scent, heavy and dark, all your senses filled with Yoonji, Yoonji, Yoonji. When you hum against her, Yoonji arches her spine and throws her head back, so when you press your tongue into her you hum again, letting the vibrations shiver through her.

“Yes,” she gasps, rutting against your face. “Yes, yes—”

Her thighs tighten around your head. You redouble your efforts, watching her face as you continue to swipe your tongue up her slit and through her folds; you wish you could swallow each of the noises that are falling from her lips as she reaches the crest of her pleasure, the little gasps and moans each time you move your tongue in a particularly wicked way.

“There,” she says. “There, there, just like that—”

Your jaw aches but you don’t even register it, too intent on keeping your mouth open and hot and wet against her. It only takes a few more swipes and flicks of your tongue before she shudders violently, canting her hips towards your mouth as her legs go tense and she cums. She continues to straddle your face as she rides out the waves of pleasure, and you swallow down the wetness that flushes out of her rippling cunt, ignoring the throbbing between your own legs.

You can’t talk, muffled by her as you are, but your mind is singing. Look at you, you think. Look at how gorgeous you are. God, I could eat you out all day. (What a blessed life that would be.)

You can tell when Yoonji’s edged into oversensitivity, jolting when your tongue sweeps over her swollen clit; she settles back, knees spread as she rests against your heaving chest, legs tensing each time an aftershock shivers through her. Your mouth is open as you pant in air, but she watches as you swipe your tongue over your lips, catching the lingering taste of her on you, your chin opalescent with her arousal.

“Okay,” you say, breathless. “I’ve done everything that’s worth doing. I’ve peaked. Everything is downhill from here. You can kill me now.”

You’re only half joking, but your thighs instinctively go tight to rub against each other when you see how Yoonji’s eyes darken.

“I’m not done with you yet,” she purrs.

Yoonji might be naked while you’re still clothed, and so still armed, but she’s undoubtedly the one who’s in control right now. You are so, so okay with that. You watch with wide eyes as she shifts back, her hands grabbing the material of your jacket to tug you upwards, but before she can strip off your clothes you capture her lips with your own.

The taste of her is still heady and deep in your mouth and you nip at her bottom lip before pressing your tongue forwards. The kiss is already slick from Yoonji’s wetness and when you pull away, there’s a thin string of saliva that connects you for a moment before it breaks, which Yoonji wipes away from your chin with the pad of her thumb.

“Dirty girl,” she says, and you bite back a moan at the unabashed lust in her voice. Her grip on your chin is firm. “Did I say you could kiss me?”

“No,” you answer. “I couldn’t help myself.”

She tuts, as if disappointed, and every one of your nerve endings feels electrified, ready and anticipating whatever Yoonji is going to do next. “Such a shame,” she says. “You just can’t keep your hands or mouth to yourself, can you?”

“Can you blame me?”

Yoonji huffs out a laugh through her nose. She strips your jacket off in one sharp motion and then your shirt is similarly pulled off with single-minded intent, along with every other piece of equipment cinched to your arms and body. When you reach for her, though, she captures your wrists, her face stern.

“If you keep moving without permission, I’m going to take that privilege away from you.”

You don’t have to see your own eyes to know how your pupils will have dilated from that statement, blood thrumming through your veins, and you can tell Yoonji has noticed when her expression shifts.

“Oh.” A small, triumphant smirk appears on her face. “I see.”

You lift your arms up so she can pull your sports bra off (of course if you had known you’d been running into Yoonji again you would have worn something nicer). Rather than touch your heaving chest, however, she pushes you down onto the mattress, a hand around your wrists so they’re held above your head.

“Keep still,” she says.

She reaches for the holster that you’d had around your upper arm, lazily casting the knife aside before looping it around your wrists and pulling it secure.

Yoonji’s fingers ease under the nylon as she checks the fit. It’s tight, but not so much so that it’s painful or dangerous, and there’s a hushed moment when the realisation hits you— Yoonji and yourself are both skilled enough to know that you could easily free yourself if you wanted to. It would only take a little motion of your wrists and hands and you could slip them out of the makeshift cuffs in an instant.

You melt into the mattress. Yoonji’s eyes shift away from your wrists as she takes in the way you’ve gone utterly relaxed and limp below her, staring back at her. You see an expression flit across her face faster than you can see, before she slides down your body so she can push your legs apart.

You lift your hips to help her strip your trousers off. Her hand lingers on the concealed holster around your thigh, eyeing the small pistol nestled inside it, before that too is stripped off and cast aside. Her hands trail over the soft skin of your hips and stomach, eyes skimming over the bared length of your body before settling between your legs, the slickness of your inner thighs.

“You got this wet just from eating me out?” Her pretty mouth is curled into an expression that’s almost mocking, and your legs jolt as she runs her fingers lightly over your lower lips before rubbing her fingertips together to feel the wetness she’s gathered. “I haven’t even touched you yet.”

Your nails dig into your palms as your hands twist against each other and you shift your legs further apart. “Please, Yoonji,” you plead, shameless from desperation and arousal.

She laughs at your obvious hunger. “I suppose I should return the favour, shouldn’t I?”

You watch breathlessly as she lifts her fingers to her lips, swallowing them into her mouth to get them slick and wet. The motions of her tongue are languid as she licks across her fingers. You’re like a livewire, thrumming with electricity, and the sensation of her finally sinking one of those fingers into you sends sparks throughout your body.

Yoonji’s maddeningly slow. Your body takes her readily, her long finger gliding easily in and out of you, but she makes no move to speed up; you let out a small noise and she moves upwards to kiss you, as if indulging you, and you’ve just relaxed against her mouth when she plunges a second finger in.

She swallows your gasp as her fingers speed up, before she starts to kiss across your jaw, your neck, between the valley of your breasts and then closing her mouth over one of your nipples— she times the flick of her tongue with the thrust of her fingers, and then you feel how she takes her thumb to press your clit at the same time and you’re gone, falling over the edge faster than you’d expected. Your orgasm is fast but deep, your walls clenching tight around the fingers that continue to curl in and out of you, but she doesn’t stop.

“Yoonji,” you gasp. “It’s too— oh—”

Those two fingers continue to rub your sweet spot as you edge into oversensitivity but Yoonji doesn’t let up. She continues to lick and bite at the skin of your chest, putting her mouth to your other breast and circling the hardened bud of your nipple with her tongue before kissing down your stomach, your pubic bone, and then pressing her lips to your swollen clit.

You whimper. Her pace of her fingers has quickened, and she curls them each time she almost pulls them out, the squelch of their motions obscene as they slide through the cum of your first orgasm. She stares up at you, lapping at your clit with her tongue, and you can feel the saliva that’s dripping from her mouth and over your flushed core, every inch of you oversensitive but screaming with pleasure.

It’s almost painful, but you can feel an orgasm creeping through that ache; you wring your hands together and sob as Yoonji continues to finger fuck you without mercy, her pace almost bruising, the thrust of her knuckles against you each time she bottoms out just one more layer on top of that overwhelming pleasure.

“Yoonji,” you gasp. “I’m g-gonna cum again.”

She hums against you, and you make an incoherent noise at the feeling of that sound against your clit, almost too much— and then she presses one more finger into you, and that’s it, that slight burn and stretch sending you hurtling over that edge again. When you cum, your hips buck and you gasp, air rushing into your lungs before it escapes you in a moan of ecstasy; the only sensations registering in your mind right now are the ripples of pleasure spreading through your cunt as Yoonji pulls her fingers out of you, pressing down on your clit in a way that’s almost cruel, and you sob as your legs instinctively try to tighten but are prevented from doing so by Yoonji’s unyielding presence.

She’s staring down at you as you start to go lax, and you think she’s finished with you, but you watch with widening eyes as she takes her ring and middle finger to run them through your sodden folds. You sob again when those fingers plunge back into you, palm pressing against your clit each time she curls her fingers, and you squirm underneath her.

“Yoonji, it’s too much,” you cry.

“One more.” Yoonji’s leaning back and staring at you, taking in the sweat that’s beading across your skin, the tears that are gathering in your eyes and threatening to spill down your face and into your hair. “You’re doing so well, darling, you can give me one more, can’t you?”

Your reply is incoherent, a small noise that shudders out of the back of your throat. You’ve never been thrown so thoroughly into pleasure like this, overstimulated and aching, but there’s that flicker of pleasure still between your legs, growing each time Yoonji beckons with her fingers, curling over your abused sweet spot again and again and again.

“Just say the word and I’ll stop,” Yoonji says, the wet plunge of her fingers into your abused pussy so messy and loud but not enough to drown her out. “One word and I’ll stop.”

You don’t say anything. You just let your eyes roll back into your head as you cant your hips towards her, trying to latch onto that thread of pleasure that’s thrumming through you below all your screaming nerves, and the noise Yoonji makes is pleased.

“There we go,” she praises. “Look at you, so good for me. Pretty darling.”

You can feel how your pussy clenches around Yoonji’s fingers, how the coil in you is squeezing tighter and tighter, how another orgasm is somehow creeping up on you— you tilt your hips towards that feeling, towards Yoonji’s hand, and then she’s pulling her fingers out of you in an almost rough motion and you’re cumming harder than you ever have before.

“Oh, fuck!” You sob.

It’s indescribable. The sensation rips through you as your back arches off the bed and you’re cumming and squirting and gasping and you can feel the wetness that slicks out of you, your toes curling as your brain goes blank from the staggering pleasure and static consumes every one of your senses. Your entire body feels like nothing more than a vessel for the ecstasy that’s shooting through your veins, spreading out from your core and to every corner of your insides and limbs.

It takes you a while to come back around, aftershocks wracking through your body. You feel sluggish and slow as your mind slowly clears, focusing on the sensation of warm hands stroking over the skin of your stomach and hips and thighs; your eyes flutter open and when you glance down you can see the shine to Yoonji’s skin, evidence of your pleasure painting her in a thin sheen of liquid.

“Oh my god,” you moan. “Holy shit.”

She smiles. “You were so, so good for me,” she says. She leans down to press a light kiss to collarbones and you shiver. “So beautiful. How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve died and gone to heaven before coming back again,” you reply. “Oh, that was so good, Yoonji. I’ve never squirted before. I didn’t realise I could. God.”

Yoonji laughs lightly. You can’t help but watch the way it transforms her face, the way her chest jumps at the motion, every inch of her gorgeous and majestic and cute and pretty. “You did so, so well,” she praises, before she kisses you, her mouth so soft; you barely notice the sudden easing of pressure around your wrists as she releases you, more intent on the sensation of her soft petal lips against your own.

You stare up at her as she pulls away. Powerful, amazing Min Yoonji, kneeling between your legs, naked but not helpless. Definitely less vulnerable than you right now. And yet she’s still making no moves to grab one of the many weapons littered around the bed so she can finally finish her contract by completing the kill. It would be so easy for her.

The silence of the room is suddenly broken by a tiny buzzing noise. You both glance over at the sound, one that Yoonji doesn’t recognise but you do— the communicator in one of your wristbands, the one you use to keep in contact with Namjoon.

You watch the twisting of Yoonji’s body as she leans over the bed to hook the band with a finger before proffering it to you. You pause, but then grasp her wrist and lightly pull so she ends up pressed against you, softness of her breasts against your own, and you hold the communicator between your faces as you accept the call.

“Thank god you answered.” Namjoon’s voice is obviously frantic even through the tinniness of the small speaker. “Dahye cancelled the contract because Minjae wants to reconcile with her, but apparently he’s already put a hit out on you— tonight was a ruse, Minjae isn’t going to be there, you have to get out of there—”

“Bit too late for that,” you interrupt. Yoonji’s hair is tickling your cheek. “Don’t worry. I have it in hand. Send some flowers to Minjae for me, will you?”

“Flowers?” Namjoon sounds understandably confused. “Why?”

“As a thank you for taking out a contract on me,” you say. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m a little busy.”

“With what?”

“With me,” Yoonji says, and you hear Namjoon’s surprised intake of breath before you cut the line.

You end up laughing to yourself. “Oh, he’s going to hate me for that,” you giggle. Yoonji’s hand trails up your stomach and you continue to giggle at the ticklish sensation. Her skin is still slick against yours, and you suddenly realise how cold it is in the room, the air touching the cooling liquid that’s rubbed off against your skin, and you shiver. “Mm. I think it’s time to clean up. Want me to scrub your back in the shower? I give very good massages.”

Yoonji’s eyes are dark and warm before she presses her nose to your neck, lips soft as they touch the delicate skin of your throat. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

#yoonji x reader #min yoonji #yoonji smut #cypherwritersnet #bts smut #bts oneshot #one day I'll learn how to efficiently use tags... one day #joy.masterlist

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12tardis · 4 years ago

Text

Empire Line (Part 1/?)

Warnings: none

Summary: Newt has been in love with you since your second year at Hogwarts. You have been in love with Newt for nearly as long. You’re both ridiculously oblivious and you think he has feelings for Tina. Will Newt set the record straight before he loses you for good?

Pairings: Newt Scamander x Reader, Reader x OC (super brief)

A/N: Sooooooo this is part 1 of ? maybe 2 or 3 I really really really hope you like it bc I’ve slaved over this one. I’ve been wanting to write something more than just one shots for a while but my self esteem hit rock bottom this last couple months and that has bled over into my writing- hence why I’ve been so absent on here I’m so sorry fam ☹ In my head, this is a companion piece to I’m Gonna Keep You In Love With Me , it’s their origin story. Pls let me know your thoughts! I’d love to know what you think or where you think it’s headed. What do we think of Alistair?... Title: Empire Line by The National - literally listened to this on repeat while writing this

Taglist (I LOVE YALL): @auror-lovie @moonkissk7 @sagittarius-flowerchild @fishdonttouch @cal-ifornication @haileygarciasunshine

You had been completely in love with your best friend Newt Scamander since your school days at Hogwarts. You two had been inseparable since you first met and were now living together in a shared flat in London as you had been for the past few years since graduation.

You had tried to make your feelings known several times over the span of your friendship but Newt was either oblivious or pretending to be so he didn’t have to deal with the awkwardness of turning you down. You thought it was the former but as the years drew on you grew suspicious because how could one person be so completely clueless?

The unrequited love was recently becoming harder and harder for you to push aside. Your heart ached with every letter he exchanged with your dear friend Tina and your stomach knotted every time he would mention her in passing.

At the end of the day his happiness was all that mattered to you and if Tina was the one to bring him that then you would accept it. You just weren’t sure how you would bear it when they finally did get together.

Maybe it was time for you to move on and open your heart up to other possibilities. Merlin knows there’d been plenty of willing men ever the years, but you’d always held out hope that the love of your life would one day return your feelings.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to settle for someone else.

Once you finished your cup of tea you set the empty mug in the sink and grabbed your handbag before you left the flat, starting the journey to your workplace. Walking through the streets distractedly you thought over all the times you had tried to tell Newt how you felt.

The most recent time was when you’d been standing beside him a few months ago, posing for a photo for the newspaper at one of his book signings. You were so immensely proud of Newt for his hard work and dedication in pursuing his passion despite everyone that had ridiculed him for it throughout his life.

You had accompanied him in his travels while he wrote the book and had only fallen more in love with your best friend as you watched him in his element. And you thought maybe he may have returned your feelings considering he’d dedicated the book to you. Even his brother Theseus had dropped a couple of not-so-subtle hints your way regarding you and his younger brother.

So, as you stood beside him a few months ago at his first book signing you held his hand tightly in your own. You were pressed close to him and beaming with pride for the camera and you caught yourself glancing up at him where he stood beside you. He looked so uncomfortable and nervous in front of the camera but at the same time he was just so ridiculously handsome. You continued to gaze up at him adoringly after the photographer had moved on, squeezing his hand.

“I love you.”

You uttered the words before you could even stop yourself. It just felt so right and after everything that had happened over the past few months you were certain you had ‘something’. But when he looked back down at you with a crooked smile and squeezed your shoulder casually you felt a sinking sensation in your stomach.

“I love you too,” he said back with such ease that you just knew he only meant it as a friend. Your smile dropped for a split second, but you quickly composed yourself, letting go of his hand.

“Aaaaand I’m going to go find myself a drink,” you said in a fake bright voice, leaving him behind, completely unaware of the way he was staring after you yearningly.

What you didn’t see was the older woman that stepped over to him telling him that you were a lovely couple. And you definitely didn’t see the way he smiled back at the woman, thanking her softly as he continued to look at your retreating figure.

People were always mistaking you for a couple. It had been a regular occurrence since you were 5th years but unbeknownst to you - Newt had recently stopped correcting people when they made the same assumption. Instead opting to smile warmly in response and allow himself to get lost in the illusion for the briefest moment.

- - - - - -

You sighed to yourself as you reminisced on the memory, slipping your apron over your head once you arrived at work. That particular moment had taken you a good few weeks to get over.

Were you that undesirable to Newt that he didn’t even consider the possibility of you harbouring romantic feelings for him beyond friendship?

And then there’d been the numerous events you’d asked him to over the years.

You had been the one to ask him to the Yule Ball in your 6th year.

You’d asked him to attend your brother's wedding with you a few years after.

Once again you’d asked him to go as your date with you to a cocktail ball your work company held just the previous year.

And each and every time he knocked you back. His excuses ranged from: ‘it’s not my scene’, to ‘Pickett is under the weather’. And each rejection hurt more than the last.

To his credit though, he did eventually change his mind each time and always ended up being the best plus one there ever was. But that didn’t quite erase the embarrassment and heartache you felt every time he turned you down.

Just last week you’d asked him to go with you to your old school friend’s wedding. You’d thought he’d agree easily this time as Sarah was a mutual Hufflepuff friend of both of yours and she and Newt had always gotten along but he’d simply told you, “I’ll think about it,” before he had scurried off to his bedroom.

“Excuse me, are you open yet?” You snapped out of your musings once more when you heard the first customer for the day enter the shop, plastering a bright smile on your face. You were determined to have a good day.

- - - - - -

Newt walked into the kitchen shortly after you’d left for the day, frowning when he saw you had indeed left without saying goodbye and that you’d forgotten your lunch too.

He was worried about you lately. You usually always wished him a good day before you headed off anywhere and you hadn’t done so a couple of times now during the last few weeks. You also appeared to be forgetting meals here and there too.

You had been uncharacteristically quiet since the two of you had returned back from New York and Newt figured you must have been upset about leaving behind Queenie and Tina.

He knew how much you had bonded with the Goldstein sisters and he’d tried his best to cheer you up but everything he tried appeared to be futile as the smile would disappear from your face after a few moments and you’d just go back to tending to your plants or reading your books.

The only thing that seemed to grab your attention was when he would talk about Tina so he found himself mentioning the other woman most days, feeling a sense of relief when you would actually utter more than a few words in response. But something still seemed off.

He didn’t have the slightest clue about the heart ache you felt each time he uttered the other woman’s name.

Newt grabbed your lunch off of the counter and made his way to your workplace, figuring he could grab some things from the nearby grocers afterwards. He was planning to cook your favourite meal for dinner in the hopes to cheer you up a bit and maybe ask if there was something upsetting you recently.

Smiling to himself when he arrived at the small plant nursery where you worked, he leaned in the doorframe as he watched you tend to the plants, humming quietly to yourself. He saw you happy and at ease for the first time in weeks and he couldn’t help the grin that spread on his face at seeing you huff in annoyance when you couldn’t reach one of the hanging plants, stretching up onto your toes to try and reach the offending plant. How could one person be so adorable?

He was just about to step in and retrieve it for you when another gentleman walked over to you, resting a hand on your waist as he leant over you to grab the planter down. The smile dropped from Newt’s face immediately as he watched this man grin down at you, still completely in your personal space.

The mystery man set the plant down on the counter in front of you and Newt felt bile rise in his throat at the giggle you let out when the man leant in even closer to you, brushing some soil from your face. He was obviously a co-worker of yours and Newt felt awful because he should have been happy that you were happy, considering your previous co-worker had been horrible to you but when he saw the way the other guy still had his hand on your waist he felt nothing but jealousy.

Who was this guy?

Why hadn’t you told him you had a new co-worker?

You usually told him everything.

He thought you told him everything.

And WHY was the guy still gripping your waist like that?

Jealousy. It was a rare feeling for him to experience but it definitely wasn’t a new one. He’d experienced it every time someone had come along over the years and dared to look at you a little too long, or touch you with too much familiarity.

And every time, he felt like the world's biggest ass because he knew he didn’t have some claim to you. You weren’t some prize to be won or fought over, and yet here he was, gritting his teeth as he watched the other man make you laugh and swoon, just like he wished he could.

It took him back to the very first time he’d experienced the wrath of the green-eyed monster when you were 3rd years at Hogwarts.

- - - - - -

Newt was rushing towards the common room to find you with the new Pixie he’d just found hidden in his robes. He was excited to show you his discovery because you’d been particularly fascinated in the pixies when you’d studied them in class but as he stepped into the common room he was entirely unprepared for the sight that greeted him.

Pierce Brixley, one of the popular Hufflepuff 5th years, was gripping your shoulders and saying something to you with a megawatt smile on his face.

He couldn’t quite make out what either of you were saying as he made his way towards you, pausing in his tracks when Pierce leant in and planted an eager kiss on your cheek. Newt then felt a foreign twisting sensation in his stomach as he watched you lift a hand to your cheek to brush over where Pierce’s lips had just been, laughing while you waved to the older boy as he turned to leave.

“You saved my life, Y/N!”, Pierce called out to you over his shoulder as he rushed to leave the room. Newt noticed the other boy had a potted plant grasped in his hands.

“Oh, hi Newt!”, he grinned but Newt simply nodded at him wordlessly, watching him leave the common room in a rush.

He didn’t know what this strange feeling was that had just washed over him. Newt really liked Pierce. The older Hufflepuff had gotten him out of strife with some of his bullies several times and had even offered to help him with his studies from time to time.

So why did Newt suddenly feel the urge to jinx him?

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you since Charms”, you beamed at him, practically bounding over to him and tipping your head aside at the blank expression he wore.

“What was that about?”, he asked, completely ignoring your earlier statement, feeling a twitch of annoyance when you frowned at him in confusion “with Pierce,” he quickly clarified.

“Oh! Right that,” you laughed, shaking your head.

“He was panicking yesterday because it’s his girlfriend's birthday tomorrow and he accidentally squashed the Puffapod he’d gotten for her but it was fine because I found some growing out by the pumpkin patch- remember that time?”, you barely paused for breath, waiting for him to nod in affirmation.

“Yeah so I just gave him a new one that I dug up today. And now I have a sad but still hopeful Puffapod of my own to nurse!” You smiled as you held up the crushed and wilted flower for him to see.

And just like that the foreign sensation in his gut was gone and he felt normal again.

“So, I got him out of a pickle apparently but I’m not too sure about that because I don’t know who in their right mind thinks a Puffapod is a romantic gift! They make you dizzy if you mishandle them, did you know that? I certainly wouldn’t appreciate that as a gift.”

You rambled on so quickly that Newt was struggling to keep up, but he couldn’t stop his growing smile because he absolutely loved listening and watching you go off on tangents. You were so passionate about plants and flowers and he utterly adored the way your eyes would light up when you got carried away talking about them.

He gazed back at you as you continued to talk about the qualities of a Puffpod while you inspected the plant in your hands, trailing your fingers over the foliage.

“So, what kind of gift would you appreciate then?” he chuckled, smiling softly back at you and you blinked back at him because it wasn’t really something you had thought about.

“Uh...just something that shows genuine thought and care I guess- WAIT is that a Pixie?!”

- - - - - -

Newt was broken out of his daydreaming when he heard you laugh once more, and he cleared his throat when he decided you had spent way too long gazing back at the mystery man.

He gritted his teeth when said man was the one to turn to greet him while you went back to watering the plants, not noticing his presence in the shop.

“Hi there! How can I help you today?”, your co-worker said brightly, heading around the counter towards Newt.

Newt held up the lunch bag in his hand. “I came to see Y/N”, he said flatly, so flatly that he almost didn’t recognise his own voice.

Newt stared at you desperately feeling some of the tension leave him when you looked up to see him, a bright smile appearing on your face not a moment later.

“Newt!”

You smiled happily at him instinctively. You were always happy to see him, that much had never changed. It was just when you pictured him with Tina that that miserable shadow would fall over you again.

You cocked your head aside as you bounded over to him and Newt was entirely distracted by the sensation of his heart swelling on his chest at the sight of you, looking just like you did that time in your 3rd year.

Your lips parted when you recognised he was holding your lunch that you hadn’t even realised you’d forgotten. “Oh goodness, I totally forgot. Thank you, Newt! What would I do without you?”, you pecked him on the cheek quickly as you took the bag from him.

Newt blushed as he usually would at your affection, but he also felt a small sense of pride when he noticed the way your co-worker’s eyebrows shot up at the kiss.

“Starve probably,” he answered with a teasing smile, pausing when he spotted some lingering soil on your cheek that the other man had obviously failed to brush away.

He lifted his hand without a moment's hesitation and slowly and gently thumbed away the remaining dirt from your skin. Not noticing the way you held your breath and leant into his touch instinctively.

“I’ll see you later”, Newt murmured, dropping his hand quickly when he realised how long he’d been staring at you. He allowed his hand to brush down your arm, squeezing your hand in his own momentarily before he stepped away from you.

“Have a good day, Y/N,” he called looking back at you once he was in the doorway, simply nodding at your co-worker before he left the shop.

That evening when you arrived home to find Newt preparing your favourite meal for dinner, you’d felt a small spark of hope flourish in your chest, wondering if maybe he was trying to be romantic. Especially after that moment in the shop.

The meal was perfect, and you were sat there gazing back at Newt adoringly with your chin resting in your palm while he told you about his day with the creatures.

He paused in his ramblings as he got up “oh I nearly forgot, Tina wrote us both,” he grabbed two envelopes from the kitchen counter, passing you yours with a wide smile.

And just like that you felt all your hopes fade away once again. This time it really hurt to see the soft smile on his lips as he looked down at his own letter that looked considerably thicker than yours.

Of course it would be thicker than yours.

They were probably writing full romantic essays back and forth by now.

You plastered on a smile of resignation, pocketing your own letter and going straight to your bedroom once you’d finished cleaning up. Having no idea that Tina had actually written to Newt in great detail of all the reasons why she felt he needed to share his feelings for you.

- - - - - -

Newt had read over Tina’s letter at least a dozen times over the following week, knowing logically that everything the woman had written was true.

‘I know you’re nervous. Especially after all this time but you’ve known Y/N for so long now you know she would never ridicule you or lash out at you.

You should make the most of all the precious time you have together. Our time is never promised, I learnt that with the passing of my parents and there’s nothing I wouldn’t give to be able to tell them how much I loved them.

I can’t tell you for sure how she will respond but you will be able to finally rest without wondering what could be. Be brave Newt.’

He’d been re-reading that specific page over and over again and he was finally building a plan in his head of how he was going to tell you.

There had been so many moments over the years when he’d nearly told you of his feelings. The words had truly been on the very tip of his tongue more times than he could count.

But every time he grew anxious and backed out, promising himself he’d tell you ‘next time’.

The most recent time had been just a fortnight earlier when you’d been down in his case with him.

He went to the markets to fetch you a box of your favourite pastries and a bouquet of your favourite flowers, planning to present them to you when you got home from work. He had set the sweets and flowers in his study to give to you later before he’d headed down to check on the creatures, running through what he would say to you in his head as he cleaned around the enclosures.

“Newt?”, he startled when he heard your voice call for him because you weren’t due home for another hour. He looked up in time to see you coming down the stairs towards him.

“You will not believe who’s getting married!”, you said excitedly, waving the opened wedding invitation in front of his face “Sarah! Oh I’m so excited, it’s next month and the venue is incredible. Please come with me? Please?” you rambled on quickly.

Newt felt the courage to tell you of his feelings completely disappearing as he looked back at you and how beautiful you looked gushing excitedly over the wedding of your mutual Hufflepuff friend. “I-I’ll think about it,” he stammered, turning his attention back to his creatures because he simply couldn’t trust himself to look at you any longer without blurting out everything he had on his mind.

He was so focused on managing his own emotions that he was entirely oblivious to the hurt that washed over your features and the dejected way you slumped your shoulders before you left him alone in his case.

That evening he ended up tossing the pastries to Dougal and leaving the flowers on the doorstep of your workplace for you to find the next day, figuring it wouldn’t be too strange for a floral bouquet to show up at a plant and floral shop.

- - - - - -

The next time he worked up the courage to tell you how he felt wasn’t for another two weeks. The weeks had passed rather uneventfully as you both had continued on in your usual routines.

It was that morning as he watched you feeding the Mooncalves with the sweetest smile on your lips and Pickett perched on your shoulder that he decided he was going to try and tell you again.

You had seemed to perk up again recently so he took that as a good sign and once you’d left for work that day he once again went to buy you your favourite flowers and even booked a table at one of the restaurants you’d been nagging him to go to. Yes, he was going to put himself entirely out of his comfort zone tonight if it meant winning your heart.

Time got away from him though as he did a few other errands and got caught up in a menswear shop when he decided on a whim that he was going to buy a nice suit that you would hopefully like. He recalled you telling him how much you liked him in blue, so he was feeling quite confident with himself as he wandered back to the flat with his new blue suit and your flowers in hand.

It was 5.30 now. You would most likely be home from work but he figured that still gave you both ample time to get ready for dinner and enough time for him to plan out what he was going to say to you like he hadn’t already been rehearsing all day.

But his newfound confidence dissipated immediately as he approached the front door, hearing your voice and a distinct male voice that he didn’t recognise. Just like that he felt every last drop of courage drain from his body as he stepped into the flat and saw the very same co-worker from a few weeks ago.

He was sitting at the dining room table smiling back at you while you had your head tipped back in laughter at something that he’d said.

- - - - - -

Completely unbeknownst to Newt you had spent the last two weeks trying your very hardest to train your heart out of beating erratically every time you saw your best friend smile. Or stopping your stomach from doing somersaults every time he looked back at you with a little too much interest.

Sure, you loved him more than anything or anyone, but you simply couldn’t take any more of listening to him gush on and on about Tina. You knew it was time for you to move on.

So, you had to get over him and that meant turning your attention to your co-worker, Alistair. He was handsome, he was flirty, he was passionate about plants like you and most importantly he was into you.

You were still down in the dumps from Newt turning down your invite to Sarah’s wedding as you walked to work the next day but as you stepped towards the shop the most incredible bouquet of flowers sat waiting for you against the shop door. You felt your chest tighten as you scooped up the arrangement, seeing it was all your favourites.

“Blegh, who puts sunflowers with peonies and ranunculi?” Alistair said from beside you, having just arrived. You looked back at him suspiciously.

“...they’re my favourite flowers,” you said slowly, watching him closely because you were certain he’d heard you telling a customer that much just a few days ago.

“Oh, I knew that, I was just joking” Alistair played it off casually with a wink and such a charming smile that you were convinced he’d been the one to leave them for you.

When he set his hand on your waist and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek you were certain it had been him.

Who else could it be?

- - - - - -

“Oh hi, Newt! This is Alistair I’m not sure you’ve met properly yet,” you said brightly when you noticed Newt had arrived home, gesturing to the man sitting across from you. Alistair looked Newt up and down, keeping a pleasant smile on his face as he eyed the flowers Newt had tucked under his arm. Almost an exact replica of the bouquet from the other week, just in a different colour arrangement.

“Pleasure to finally meet you. I’ve heard plenty about you,” he said smoothly, holding his hand out to Newt.

Newt shook Alistair’s hand begrudgingly, feeling completely intimidated by just how classically handsome and built the other man was. He could never compare.

“Nice flowers you got there,” Alistair nodded at the bouquet just as you jumped to your feet excitedly, finally noticing the flowers.

“Uh...yeah I just found these on the doorstep,” Newt lied, holding the flowers out to you and stiffening at the calculating look Alistair was now giving him.

You blinked a few times as you took the stunning bouquet from Newt, whipping your head aside to look at Alistair.

“I KNEW it was you!”, you said happily as you poked a finger into Alistair’s chest, completely missing the look of confusion that passed over his face for a fleeting moment.

And missing the look of alarm Newt was giving you.

“You tried to pretend you didn’t know what my favourite flowers were! When did you even have the time to put them there?”, you giggled, truly thinking Alistair had managed to pull off such a romantic feat.

Newt gritted his teeth, feeling the strongest flare of jealousy yet when he saw Alistair quickly compose himself and plaster that stupid smug smirk back on his face “well I had them delivered of course,” he lied smoothly as his eyes flicked to Newt.

The two men locked eyes for a moment. Alistair was silently challenging Newt to tell you otherwise. Newt glanced back at you, opening his mouth to protest but he stopped himself just as quickly when he saw the happy glimmer in your eyes.

He just didn’t have the heart to ruin your good mood especially considering how down you had been lately.

So what if you thought the flowers came from Alistair? It was a harmless misunderstanding, right?

Not a moment later you were pressing a kiss to Alistair’s cheek and Newt was gritting his teeth again.

You wandered away to find a vase for the flowers, leaving the two men alone to just stare at each other. Alistair looked back at Newt and the stony expression he now wore, clearing his throat after a moment.

“I should really get going, Y/N,” he called out, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on Newt, another fake smile gracing his lips when you turned to look at him.

“It was nice to meet you, Newt.”

Alistair walked over to you and Newt wanted to die as he watched him press a kiss to the top of your head and saw the shy smile you gave him in return.

Newt briefly considered throwing the damn bouquet into his case for the creatures to feast on when you went to see Alistair off but when you returned to the room, he felt a horrible sense of guilt settle in his chest. You looked so happy and touched by the notion and he just didn’t have the will to wipe that smile from your face.

Would you have been so happy if you’d known who they were truly from?

Probably not.

“He seems nice,” he murmured quietly, staring back at you desperately and hoping you would realise the truth. But when you nodded your head in response, he knew it was a pointless hope.

“Yeah he’s lovely. He’s uh, a bit of a handful sometimes but he’s really sweet and he doesn’t get bored of all my plant talk,” you laughed, looking back at Newt, nodding at the bag he had in his hand “what did you buy?”

“Oh, just some stuff for in the case,” he lied quickly, forcing a smile at you before he walked away, pretending that his heart wasn’t in total shambles.

He decided it didn’t matter who the flowers were really from. All that mattered was that you were happy.

- - - - - -

Another week passed and Newt didn’t hear or see anything more of Alistair much to his relief. Strangely, you appeared to have slipped back into your more quiet subdued self and Newt was worried again.

Had Alistair done something to upset you maybe?

In actual fact you’d been wallowing for a few days now since you’d happened to glimpse one of Newt’s letters from Tina, mistakenly thinking it was yours.

‘Newt,

There is so much to admire about you. You are handsome and inspiring and truly one of a kind. I know Queenie agrees with me on this. Don’t sell yourself short. Much love,

Tina

Not only were you completely unaware that the true intention of the letter was more of a friendly pep talk on Tina’s behalf after Newt had written to her about his failure in telling you his feelings and detailing how charming Alistair was comparatively. But you were also hurt to think that Newt had neglected to tell you that he and Tina had made things official.

Sure, the letter was a little lacklustre and you could think of roughly two thousand things to add to the list of things to admire about Newt, but it was still clearly a letter between two people holding affection for one another.

It wasn’t an idea you really wanted to accept yet, so you decided the safest course of action for your bruised heart was to limit your time with Newt. So as a result, you’d been busying yourself throughout the week with your garden.

He would tell you about his new relationship with Tina when he was ready, and you would smile and support him like a good friend.

You’d been up in your bedroom all morning and Newt was concerned so he set about making you a cup of tea deciding he would go and check on you but he nearly dropped the mug in his hand when you came sweeping into the kitchen, dressed up to the nines in the most magnificent dress he’d never seen before.

Your lips were painted to perfection and your hair was styled to frame your face. His chest was aching from your sheer beauty.

“Y/N, you look...incredible,” he breathed, his mouth agape as he looked back at you. “What’s...what’s the occasion?”, he managed to ask eventually, moving closer to you instinctively.

You were completely taken aback by his reaction and his sweet words because he almost looked...awed? You shook the thought away, remembering the letter from Tina and frowned at him.

“It’s Sarah’s wedding? Remember you were invited? I told you about it last month?”, you walked away from him when the doorbell rang, and Newt stared after you helplessly.

Had Sarah’s wedding seriously snuck up that quickly?

Why hadn’t you mentioned it to him again?

Usually you would remind him of such events with a few weeks’ notice, giving him plenty of time to get his act together.

He felt his stomach drop and he understood exactly why you hadn’t mentioned the wedding to him again when he saw you pull the front door open, revealing a fancy suit-clad Alistair. You were taking a practical stranger as your date to the wedding of one of your oldest friends and boy did that feel like a kick in the guts.

“Y/N, didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to out-shine the bride on her wedding day?”, Alistair said loudly as he walked into the apartment, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. Newt rolled his eyes so hard he thought they might roll right out of his head.

“Oh, you won’t be saying that when you see Sarah. She’s actual perfection”, you smiled back at Alistair bashfully.

“I highly doubt there is going to be a single lady who can hold a candle to you today”, Alistair smirked, and Newt grit his teeth because that was something he could actually agree upon but just the way the other man was leering at you as he said it had Newt wanting to cover you up in one of his long coats. They always did swim on your frame.

Alistair eventually stopped his leering long enough to thrust a huge bouquet of flowers into your face. You raised your eyebrows because this time it was a giant bouquet of red roses.

“I thought it was about time to change it up a little, don’t you think?”, Alistair smiled, reaching out to toy with a strand of your hair, making Newt want to break his hand.

When you just stared at the roses wordlessly Alistair pressed a kiss to your cheek “I think Roses are much better suited to a lady such as yourself. Elegant, beautiful and the flower of romance.”

As you took the bouquet from Alistair and offered him a thankful smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes Newt found himself being thrown back into his Hogwarts days when he’d first learned the truth of why you didn’t like roses.

- - - - - -

“Now remember this spell will only heal minor injuries. Anything beyond that and I highly suggest that you still take a visit to the hospital wing.” Professor Jamieson’s dry voice carried through the classroom.

“Now repeat after me ep-PIS-kee...Episkey. Good.”

Newt was sat beside you in charms class during your second year, fidgeting with his quill nervously as he prayed the Professor wouldn’t call on him to demonstrate for the class.

Professor Jamieson had a penchant for making the entire class demonstrate their pronunciation and wand motions and it was often a source of great embarrassment for Newt as he would stutter when the entire class was watching him.

Newt groaned quietly from his spot beside you when the teacher did just that and he began to bounce his knee nervously as the students began to take turns one by one.

He blinked in surprise when you lay your hand on his knee. You offered him a smile of comfort and he felt his nerves melt away for a moment as he found himself getting lost in your eyes and the soft curve of your lips.

That moment was short lived though as the Professor had the class begin to recite the spell and the motion one by one.

He desperately whispered the spell to himself under his breath, but of course once it was his turn he froze, staring down at his desk as he fumbled with his wand.

Everyone’s eyes were on him as you nudged him gently and the Professor called on him again.

“...Ep-p-p...p-pisskey,” his flushed deep red right to his ears as one Colin Fligshaw guwaffed with laughter, already mocking Newt from the back of the classroom.

“P-p-p-p please Professor! I only speak FREAK!”, Colin mocked, and Newt sat in complete humiliation wanting nothing more than to disappear as the other students began to laugh along.

That was until you threw your ink pot with shocking accuracy, hitting Colin in the middle of his head and sending the ink all over the boy and his robes “Merlin, YOU’RE A GIT, FLIGSHAW!”

Your angry voice carried through the classroom as everyone else sat in stunned silence and Newt stared at you like you’d grown a second head.

“Miss L/N, Mr Fligshaw, detention for a week! And 10 points from Hufflepuff and Gryffindor!”

You scowled back at the other boy who at least had the decency to look ashamed, remembering the time you had made him pay for stealing Newt’s textbooks the year before. He’d had a sore ear for an entire week after you’d dragged him the length of the entire school, ranting and raving at him like a complete lunatic.

“Y/N, you didn’t have to do that. Now you’re gonna be stuck in detention,” Newt said when you were leaving the classroom and you frowned at the guilty expression he wore.

“Newt, you’re my best friend. I’m not just going to sit back and watch you be poked fun of. Plus, you’re going meet me after detention every day with snacks, aren’t you?”, you grinned back at him. You were only joking but Newt nodded in response.

And he did just that. Waiting diligently outside the detention hall for you each afternoon with your favourite snacks hidden in his robes that he’d pinched from the kitchens.

“You’re free!”, he hugged you when you’d finally finished serving your punishment at the end of the week, handing you a cinnamon bun that was still warm.

You hummed happily in appreciation wasting no time in chomping down on the pastry as Newt held out a letter for you to see “Look what my parents wrote me h-oh no!”, he tried to grasp for the paper when a gust of wind sent it flying out of his hand.

You quickly chased after it across the courtyard and Newt tried to call out to get your attention, but it was too late. You managed to catch the paper at the same time you stumbled straight into a rose bush, crying out when the thorns dug into your skin.

“Y/N!” he ran over to you as you thrashed around trying to free yourself from the rose bush, only to end up with more thorns piercing your skin. “Y/N stop moving!”

He winced at your whimper of pain as he carefully pried the bushes away from you, helping you out from the garden bed and sitting you down carefully as he looked over your injuries and torn stockings.

“This IS WHY I HATE ROSES! Firstly, they remind me of my mum's funeral because Merlin, they were everywhere that day but now this! Terrible, stupid, overrated flowers!”

Newt hated the tears he could see you fighting back as you bit your lip in pain. Your stockings were torn and there was blood running down both of your legs. He didn’t hesitate as he knelt down in front of you, taking your hand and using his other to pluck his wand out from his pocket.

“Episkey,” he murmured, letting out a sigh of relief when your skin mended quickly and you were no longer wincing in pain.

“Newt! You did it!”, you gasped, looking at him with big eyes and gripping his shoulders with a proud smile.

“I guess I just needed a reason to get it right,” he smiled back at you crookedly, casting another charm to get rid of the blood and dirt off of you before he helped you to your feet.

He didn’t let go of your hand as he guided you towards the common room, vowing to never ever present you with roses as a gift.

- - - - - -

Newt stepped towards you cutting Alistair from your view as you set the flowers in water with an unreadable expression on your face.

You looked up when he took your hand, looking back at him in confusion before you smiled weakly at him.

“It’s okay. I told Sarah you were busy with book signing things. She understands.” You squeezed his hand gently and Newt wanted to kick himself because that was the last thing that was on his mind. Really, he just wanted to stop you from leaving with him.

He wanted to tell you the truth. And he wanted to dash off to get into his own suit so he could take you to the wedding himself, but he knew he’d lost his chance.

Alistair’s low laughter filled the kitchen as he moved over to you and Newt gritted his teeth at the way he was still leering at you. “Don’t worry Newt, I’ll have her home by curfew,” Alistair teased, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you out of Newt’s grasp.

“Come on princess. We don’t want to be late,” Alistair fixed Newt with one last hard look over your shoulder before he pulled you from the house, missing the way you looked back at Newt in concern. Wondering what it was that he’d been trying to tell you.

Once you were gone from the flat Newt tried to go about his day as usual but the image of you looking so beautiful in Alistair’s arms was burned into his retinas and he found himself checking the time constantly.

He glanced at his watch with a sigh for the 4th time in an hour that afternoon, wondering what you were doing and if Alistair was being respectful. He knew it was silly. You were an adult and you could take care of yourself but that didn’t stop him from worrying and it certainly didn’t stop him from wallowing in self-pity.

As the hours wore on and the light faded, he found himself feeling more and more worked up, lingering in the living room by the front door when he would usually be in his case working.

It was the thought of you slow dancing in Alistair’s arms that had him rushing from the house and before he knew it, he was standing on his brothers’ doorstep, pounding on the door in a complete daze.

“Newt?”, Theseus frowned when he opened his door, knowing immediately from his younger brother’s body language and expression that something was bothering him. He stepped aside, motioning for Newt to come in and went to put the kettle on the boil while Newt sat himself down in the lounge room.

“I’m sorry I know it’s late and you’re probably busy- I can, I can go,” Newt stuttered when Theseus had returned with a pot of tea, getting to his feet to which Theseus frowned and cast him back into his seat.

“Newton. You know my door is open to you no matter the time. What’s upsetting you?”

Newt let out a deep sigh, brushing his fingers through his hair “I don’t...I don’t really know.”

But Theseus fixed Newt with a deadpan expression because he knew his brother only stumbled on his words like he was now over a select few reasons.

“Is one of the creatures ill?”

Newt shook his head.

“Have you lost Dougal again?”

He shook his head again.

“So, it’s Y/N.” Theseus said slowly, watching the younger man closely as he shook his head again.

“Well no...it’s not her specifically,” Newt ran a hand down his face and then let out a groan as his shoulders slumped.

“Merlin, who am I kidding. She’s at a wedding right now with some other man. Her co-worker. I was supposed to go with her, but I said no- I know I’m an idiot don’t give me that face Thes,” he rambled on as he wrung his hands in his lap.

“They’ve been getting closer lately and I just, I’m trying to be happy for her, but I can’t stand the guy Thes’ I seriously can’t stand the guy and it’s driving me mad!”

Newt’s voice grew louder as he continued on but Theseus watched him curl in on himself again when he finished.

The brothers sat in silence for a few moments as Theseus just looked back at Newt, choosing his words carefully.

“You...don’t like him because you’re simply jealous or you don’t like him because he’s genuinely unlikable?”

Newt blinked back at his brother in confusion “why’s it matter?” he sighed, shaking his head as he flopped back in the chair.

In the past he would have ardently argued that he wasn’t jealous and he didn’t see you that way but he knew there was no point trying to lie to Theseus.

“Well I just mean- do you dislike him just because you want to be him? Because you want to be in his shoes? Or do you dislike him because he’s not a good fit for Y/N? Does he treat her well? Will he make her happy?”

Newt looked down at his lap then, twisting his hands together once more as he pondered what Theseus had said.

“Not like I can,” he whispered eventually.

Theseus nodded in response, smiling softly back at him as he clapped him on the shoulder “then I think you better do something about it, Newt. You need to tell her how you feel before it’s too late.”

He noticed the hesitant look Newt wore so he continued, “you need to tell her before you have to watch her move on with someone who can never love her or treat her like you do.”

Newt got to his feet then, nodding to himself and determined to tell you the truth once and for all. Surely you would be home by now. When he arrived home though it was clear you still haven’t returned. That was fine. It just gave him more time to rehearse what he was going to say.

He paced around the kitchen as he imagined hearing you tell him you felt the same way.

“I had a great time tonight, Y/N.”

Newt’s head snapped up and he spotted you in the front terrace, your heels in one hand and Alistair’s hand gripped in the other.

That was okay too. It didn’t have to mean anything. He could still go through with his plan once you were inside and Alistair had left.

Then just as you reached for the door Alistair tugged your hand, spinning you around in his arms and leaning in for a kiss but you turned your cheek at the last second. You successfully dodged the kiss and Newt could almost hear his own heart sing.

That had to be a good sign! You didn’t want to kiss Alistair so maybe he still had a chance to tell you the truth. His brother's advice still echoed in his ears and he realised he had to tell you tonight before he lost his shot completely.

He sucked in a breath when you finally entered the house, standing in the hallway and just glimpsing Alistair’s retreating figure before you swung the door closed and turned to face him.

“Oh, Newt you’re still up”, you said in surprise and Newt had to focus on the task at hand when he realised just how distractingly gorgeous you were still looking.

“Yes, I have to tell you something,” he blurted out, stepping closer to you tentatively.

“Me too actually,” you murmured, smiling back at him weakly and Newt was caught off guard.

Why were you looking at him like that?

What did that smile mean?

He was so dumbfounded by your expression that he forgot to speak, so you eventually filled the silence.

“Alistair’s moving to South America to research the flora and fauna over there.”

Newt only blinked back at you dumbly, so you spoke up again.

“I said I’d go with him.” OTHER WORKS HERE! -

#newt scamander x you #newt scamander x reader #newt scamander x y/n #newt scamander imagine

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floreleine · 3 years ago

Text

That GM prequel fic - part 3: Florence's POV

Part 1 (Madeleine, <1k, G)

Part 2 (Scarlet, 1k, G)

Ships: Floreleine & ScarletMay

Hiding the entire fic under the readmore this time for Part 1+2 spoiler reasons! This one's also rated G (or T if we're going for swear words and alcohol consumption I guess), a little over 1k words.

There will be at least 1 more part of this, and then I might post a revised and possibly longer version to ao3.

Bc idk where to put this in the fic itself yet, quick setting overview: they're not sitting around a table but instead Florence and Madeleine are sitting on a small couch, Scarlet is next to Madeleine on a wobbly kitchen chair and Anna May is sitting opposite them on a barstool at the kitchen aisle.

That night, the librarians plus Scarlet (and minus Baby, who is sleeping in the next room under a security camera that both Madeleine and Scarlet insist on checking every other minute) are sitting in the kitchen together for dinner and a drink.

Or five drinks in Anna May's case, as she downs the first one in one go and hasn't let go of the Whiskey bottle since. Florence can't blame her, really - if Madeleine had run off with some guy, no matter how early in their relationship, only to return a year later with tears and a baby... She has no idea what she'd be doing right now.

Madeleine and Scarlet are talking about the child right now, sharing child-caring advice - Florence is fairly certain that Madeleine has her knowledge from books and only from books, but she seems to have picked out sound advice from all that she has read at least - and Florence has to smile fondly at how Madeleine is glowing at the prospect of having a child in the library.

Scarlet is careful in her replies, not wanting to commit to anything, her eyes shifting back to Anna May whenever she doesn't think that the others are looking.

'She's afraid she'll kick her out after all,' Florence thinks with a quiet sigh. 'Can't blame her, Anna knows how to hold a grudge, and with how she is drinking right now... It isn't her friendliest appearance'.

Still, she thinks that they will work it out. They better. It's been a while since she has seen Anna May have an emotional reaction to just about anything, and it can't be healthy to keep it all locked inside, pushing all chances of happiness away.

Madeleine must have heard her sigh, and she leans back against Florence's side. Florence squeezes her arm, content to have her by her side, glad that they, at least, don't have to worry about their relationship status. Being with Madeleine always relaxes her, makes her feel like everything is alright in the world.

Madeleine presses a kiss to her chin and, after checking that both Scarlet and Anna May are looking down at their glasses, nods in the direction of the door. 'Should we give those two some privacy?'

Florence tilts her head for a moment to consider, then shakes her head, nodding at Anna May, and Madeleine winces a little. Yes, Anna is barely keeping it together now, who knows what she may say or rather shout if they left them alone... Anna May should get a chance to cool down, before she ends up saying something she doesn't mean and would regret.

As if on cue, Anna May throws back the rest of the Whiskey in her glass in one gulp and loudly brings it down on the kitchen counter as if to dispel the silence that has fallen.

"Fuck."

Madeleine looks like she wants to remind her about cursing with children in the house again, but Florence squeezes her arm to stop her. They don't need to irritate Anna May even more right now.

"I'm sorry," Scarlet says immediately. Florence doesn't think that she is apologizing for anything in particular, just for the situation in general, for present and past.

Anna May gets up and turns around, putting her glass in the sink and turning on the water, but then just leaning against it with her hands holding onto the metal edge and her knuckles turning white.

Florence is trying to decide whether to step in or not when Scarlet speaks up again in a shaky voice. "I can - I can leave, I don't have to -" she gets up, clearly ready to bolt, and Anna May flinches, but she doesn't turn back around.

"No-one's" leaving, Florence says at the same time as Madeleine says "No, don't be silly!" They share a smile, and then Madeleine squeezes her hand before getting up and walking over to Madeleine. "Come on, let me show you everything. You can sleep in the room with Samantha, me and Florence aren't really using it much anyway."

Florence watches them go with a soft smile. Madeleine always knows what to do, what to say. She's so grateful to have her.

Once the other two have left, Florence goes up to Anna May and slams the still-running tap down, making her jump.

"Stop wasting water and get a hold of yourself, Anna!"

Anna May whirls around, clearly ready to fight, but Florence just throws her a deadpan look and she deflates.

"Fuck, I don't know what to do." She slurs her words a little, but not as much as Florence would have expected after that much alcohol.

"Right now? You are going to drink some water so you will not be terribly hungover tomorrow. And tomorrow, you have got to think about whether you want that woman and her kid to stick around or not."

Anna May flinches a little, but when Florence sighs and pours her a glass of water, she takes it without protest and gulps most of it down in one go.

"I dun' want her to leave," she then murmurs, staring down at the glass in her hands. "She left me once, I don't want her to leave me again."

Florence sighs and pulls her into a hug. "Bloody hell, Anna, why did you never say anything? You must have been fucking heartbroken, and all you told us was that you gave dating one last chance."

Anna May half-laughs, half-sobs and clings to Florence like a lifeline. "Don't know. Didn't want to be weak. Didn't want it to be real."

"Oh, Anna," Florence sighs and squeezes her tightly. Then she takes a step back and fixes her with a hard look. "You've got to tell her that, you know that, Anna May? She is going to run away just to give you space while you are not talking to her because you're afraid she might run anyway."

Anna May sighs and grimaces a little, but nods. "I - tomorrow. I'll tell her tomorrow, before I can chicken out." she sighs. "I mean, it's not like I know whether she'd want to - whether she still-" she sighs. "She only left me because he didn't want to share, but maybe by now she's just over me."

Florence shrugs. "I can't look in her head, Anna, but from the way she looks at you... I think you guys will figure it out."

Anna May nods uncertainty, then frowns again. "And you'd be fine with it, if she's staying here... Indefinitely? I mean, she has a - kid -" she adds with a somewhat perplexed expression on her face, making Florence laugh. She's half of a mind to say 'congrats, you're a step-mom!' but stops herself at the last second. There will be time for that kind of joke when the peace between Anna May and that Scarlet isn't quite so fragile anymore. "Exactly," she instead replies. "So you know Madeleine will be mad at you forever if you let them get away."

Anna May snorts. "She did seem quite... taken by the kid."

Florence nods, frowning a little herself now. "She's always wanted kids, she just accepted that it isn't sensible in our line of work, and that I am not interested in them anyway. Seeing her with Samantha, now I'm wondering..."

"You did nothing wrong," Anna May reassures her. "And fuck, can you imagine having two kids around? It will be bad enough, trying to protect the one from everybody."

Florence sighs and nods. "I suppose. But I'm sure we'll manage. ...are you going to be alright now, or do I have to hide the Whiskey?"

"I'm not a drunk," Anna May replies a little offended, and Florence grins.

"I know you're not, but you sure made a great impression of one earlier!"

Anna May groans, and then she turns back to the counter to refill her waterglass. "Fuck, I'll be so dead tomorrow."

"Sleep in, then. Me 'n Madeleine will make sure Scarlet won't take off before you're awake and had your talk with her."

Anna May nods sharply. Florence smiles and squeezes her arm. "Well, get some sleep. I'll check on Scarlet and Madeleine."

Anna May nods again, and Florence sees her lean back against the counter with a deep sigh while she is leaving the kitchen. She really hopes that Anna May will take her advice to heart. Some heartbreak can't be avoided- but the one between her and Scarlet doesn't seem quite so inevitable.

Part 4

@phoenixhalliwell @thesevenwondersofawitch another update, hope you liked it!

If anyone else wants to be tagged for this series, lmk! Not tagging my usual GM tag list in every fic update as that would just be spammy.

Taking prompts!

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transsexualhamlet · 3 years ago

Text

sherlock holmes reactions part 4 (?) ive lost count already but unsurprisingly ive grown even more attached to him

using this as the cover image because i made him a playlist. cause im awful

no legit this is gonna need a read more because it's SO LONG SHIHEWIESHEFSHIEWHF

Had three mental breakdowns this week and realized i do in fact kin sherlock motherfucking holmes. this does not bode well for anything in my life mentally I've diagnosed him with so many things

Oh boy lol you want the list I think hes autistic (undisputed honestly) plus also adhd but on top of that there's the manic depression and uhhh the bpd lmao I dont even think that's it those are just. the obvious ones

But yeah man's a fucking mess and a shit person but in the same way as me so 👍

Some highlights I thought were very funny:

watson: we are in fact going to be waltzing into a place where people are Shooting People you do not have your gun. this is a problem

sherlock: don't worry watson I have my trusty stick!

watson: visible pain

This clearly happens like every day or so with them

but yeah there were some really honestly sweet scenes with them at the apartment and why am i getting soft over the crusty man being gay

have you considered tho. have you considered them

have you considered sherlock, who usually only plays absolute garbage on his violin serenading watson to sleep when he was tired and in pain and watson being so fucking in love with the man and waxing poetic about falling asleep to his music and waking up to see him fallen asleep on the couch next to him and oh my god them

They're just really sweet together for such a completely dysfunctional couple so much of the time lol I just. Sherlock being like.

Sherlock half of the time: watson you're fucking stupid. no i won't take care of my personal needs stfu. watson get a goddamn life. watson shut up. watson no one cares about your goddamn opinion. no i need to disturb you in the middle of the night it's for science. hey watson mind if i manipulate mansplain malewife

Sherlock the other half of the time: HELLO SIR YOU ARE MY FAVORITE MAN TO EVER MAN HELLO MAY I SPEND THE REST OF MY DAYS WITH YOU HELLO I WILL DO ANYTHING FOR YOU WE ARE PERFECT MATCHES I LOVE YOU AND I NEED YOU YOURE SO MUCH BETTER THAN ME PLEASE MARRY ME

They're... they certainly are.

ALSO OH MY GOD.

THIS ONE TIME WHEN SHERLOCK WAS JUST PACING AROUND THE ROOM AT 3 AM GOING "IT DOESNT MAKE SENSE >:(((" AND HUDSON LIKE BARGED IN TO COMPLAIN AND THEN WATSON WAS LIKE DUDE YOU GOTTA STOP DOING THIS AND PROCEEDS TO SAY THE LINE "YOU ARE KNOCKING YOURSELF UP, OLD MAN"

BAHGHSFHGRHEWHEWHIFEW

BRB SOBBING

CALLING HIM AN OLD MAN???? KNOCKING HIMSELF UP?? I DONT KNOW WHATS FUNNIER

The main highlight of this part was I have now gotten to see him have a great time watching his homo homie get married

Its so fucking funny.......

I was prepared for a funny reaction by yuumori sherlock's face when he said it lol but. Damn i was really not prepared tbh

watson: I'm engaged!

sherlock: *pained groaning*

watson: do you... not like her?

sherlock: no she's fine she's great you'll be wonderful together bUT I HATE IT WHEN PEOPLE ARE HETEROSEXUAL WATSON DO I HAVE TO MARRY MYSELF THEN WATSON? ARE YOU GOING TO MAKE ME MARRY MYSELF.

watson: yeah... yeah... fair, I feel really bad because you did this whole case and I got a girlfriend out of it and all you got was me leaving you alone fuck man im sorry what are you gonna do without me

sherlock, highly sarcastic: dont worry watson I've always got my handy cocaine! *pulls it out and gets high in front of watson just as he's about to leave*

watson: *in fucking agony*

sherlock: good for you!

I DONT EVEN- THIS SCENE KILLED ME MULTIPLE TIMES OVER WHAT

ITS SO GODDAMN NONCHELANT ABOUT IT SHERLOCK IS JUST LIKE YEAH I WILL IN FACT NOT BE MENTALLY HEALTHY IF YOU ARE NOT WITH ME 24/7 BUT WHATEVER YOU DO YOU /S

I'd like to apologize to watson on sherlock's behalf lmao. man is being a bit too codependent on main

The last thing about sign of four I do need to address is yeah, there's the Horrific Amounts Of Racism in that one and the whiplash hearing it is just ridiculous because they seem to be so knowledgeable in all other areas and fairly... politically correct, taking sherlock's original misogyny as a purposeful character flaw, but then they just mention someone indigenous once and suddenly its all parrotting racist propaganda and just... really awful shit. There's no way I'm gonna speak for the group that just got absolutely hate crimed here but anyone can tell the author just has no clue what he's fucking talking about and it's physically painful.

And I don't know, it's just so bad it seems out of character? Doyle's making these motherfuckers say shit that honestly, Sherlock would know better about. And especially Watson. Come on, you cannot tell me watson is mentally capable of being prejudiced against someone. Please do not make him that way.

I'm not sure how to handle it specifically, or what's the proper way I should handle something like that in a media I otherwise like. Is it ok to say Doyle was clearly a piece of shit on the matter and separate those characters from his bias or is that insensitive?

I don't know, I was Not a fan of it and I'm glad to see they've at least finally shut up about the guy

But anyway yeah, uhhhh onto the short stories because I'm trying to read those before I get to the final problem

Scandal in Bohemia was a fucking ride, first of all, before we even get to Sherlock's girlboss arc we have to discuss how gay the whole situation was and how Doyle's attempt at making them less gay failed spectacularly

Like he's all "ah yes I need to marry off watson and uhhh make sherlock ummmm interact with a woman so they dont look gay" but he does it SO BADLY that it makes them look EVEN GAYER

cause i mean, even the conversation they had about watson getting married back in sign of four was gay af, but how Doyle handled things afterward was in no way straighter.

Cause you know, the man kind of wrote himself into a corner with the fact of Watson narrating these stories. So Watson has to be around to witness them, and to witness Sherlock's own thought process rather privately, so he has to be around sherlock at night, a lot. But trying to come up with a reason for that happening just... it didn't occur to Doyle. He just went. Ah yes this makes sense. And it's Watson just like Sleeping Over At Sherlock's like every other goddamn day and every time his wife leaves town and having them basically still live that cute domestic home life but they have absolutely no excuses for doing it anymore. It's quite funny

Like it was gay already the way they interacted when they officially lived together but it was like, a necessity for them. Now it's not, Watson just comes over because he goddamn wants to, and it's hilarious to me.

LIKE IDK I THINK THEY KIND OF BROKE UP FOR A YEAR OR SO BC OF WATSON GETTING MARRIED AND THEY LIKE DONT HAVE CONTACT WITH ONE ANOTHER BUT ONE DAY WATSON JUST INEXPLICABLY HAS THE URGE TO COME VISIT SHERLOCK ON NO NOTICE AND THEN SUDDENLY THEY ARE TOGETHER NEAR 24/7 AGAIN LIKE BARELY ANYTHING CHANGED AHIEHOEWH

SIT DOWN AND TRY TO TELL ME THOSE ARE NOT HOMOSEXUALS

Watson walks in on no fucking notice after a full year and Sherlock is just. In the middle of some experiment obviously but hes like

Sherlock, carrying around unidenfiable chemical mixtures: W A T S O N you look good you look good! i see you've gained seven pounds!!

watson: uh. thanks??? Hey lol *awkwardly waves* Uh um Wanted to Uhm sEe you

Sherlock: ABOUT gODDAMN TIME AND YES WONDERFUL LOOK LOOK SIT DOWN I HAVE THINGS TO INFODUMP ABOUT

watson: :) ok :) *turns to camera* and we were back to the old days

sherlock: makes a deduction

watson: wowwwwwwwwwwww !! so true bestie !!

sherlock: !!!!!!!!! :))) !!!!! :))) uh fuck im supposed to be smooth Its Elementary Lol

watson: *turns to camera* when i stroke his ego like this and compliment him he blushes like a girl like i just complimented his dress so i do it more because he likes it. this is a homie trait

watson: well i should probably get going! my wife will notice that i am gone my dear buddy bro homie!

sherlock: NO DONT LEAVE IM LOST WITHOUT YOU (pretty much a direct quote lol) your. wife doesn't. get back home until monday. I know this because I am smart and definitely have not been stalking you.

watson: alright :)))))

AND THEN HE FUCKING SLEEPS OVER LMAO FUCKING HOMOS

So yeah they're right back where they were before pretty much and there's a case bc of course there is

And honestly I think this short story specifically was so insane mostly just because of how absolutely fast it all went. Yuumori kind of made me believe the original Irene Adler was more of an important character than she really is? And I think that's. Honestly so funny. Motherfucker shows up for ten pages, girlbosses her way around town, and changes sherlock's entire opinion of the female gender while still keeping him gay?

LIKE NO LOL SHES NOT IN ANY WAY A LOVE INTEREST AND WATSON GOES OUT OF HIS WAY TO SPECIFY THE FACT THAT IN NO WORLD WOULD THEY HAVE BEEN ROMANTICALLY INVOLVED BECAUSE. SHERLOCK. DIDN'T DATE WOMEN.

HE WAS JUST??? SO IMPRESSED AND SHELL SHOCKED BY HER EXISTENCE HE DECIDED IT WAS TIME FOR GIRLBOSS APPRECIATION DAY TODAY AND ALL DAYS HENCEFORTH???

AND THEY HAVE LIKE O N E INTERACTION?? God, the power this woman(?) has. Watson looks at her once like. damb shawty 😳 and she's like "no<3" and he's like FUCK

Like yeah it's pretty much just the king walking up like "help girl the whore is blackmailing me" and sherlock being like "ok lol this will be easy" and then it proceeded to not in fact be easy or even possible

sherlock like... posed as a dead body and tried to get her to give up the location of the photo but she out-acted him and skipped the town the next day after doing the 'good night mr. sherlock holmes' thing with sherlock completely tricked

and she just. sends a letter like "dear sherlock holmes. you're a fucking idiot and i think it's funny that you lost. nice job tho mad respect" and sherlock just SHORT CIRCUITS

the king comes back a bit later like "hey Dude where's my Photo" and sherlock's like oh yeah uhhhhhhhhhhh about that and the king is like HOW COULD IT POSSIBLY HAVE BEEN THAT GODDAMN HARD i would have dated someone more noble if she wasn't so pretty i swear im on a whole different level from her

and then. GIRLBOSSIFIED SHERLOCK HOLMES RESPONDS "from what I have seen of the lady, she seems indeed to be on a very different level from your majesty" ABSEHHESHEFHHFES ROASTED

and the dude just LEAVES

After that I read a few more of the short stories and well the highlights I got from that pretty much were these conversations

Watson: sherlock. honey. have you. eaten anything today

Sherlock: IT DIDNT OCCUR TO ME DEAR WATSON

Watson: ITS FIVE PM

and:

Sherlock: *having one of his Moment Moments at three in the goddamn mornig* GRRRR CRIME ISNT WHAT IT USED TO BE

Watson: MY DEAR SHERCOCK WHAT IS CRIME S U P P O S E D TO BE LIKE ACCORDING TO YOU

Sherlock: no one's original anymore fucking copycats

Watson: so you want the criminals to make things harder for you specifically.

Sherlock, exasperated: yes!

I love them your honor.

#rowan's hyperfixation essays #rowan screams into the void #rowan views moriarty #sherlock holmes

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lizacstuff · 3 years ago

Text

Bölüm 45 asks

Plus a few asks from 44, and one about the fragman for 46

Read more under the cut

Anonymous asked: I cannot believe that Ayse revived the "Kemal is Serkan's real father" theory but I think I'm down for it? At least now Kiraz has one decent grandparent and he seems like genuinely nice man. I've been wishing for him to have some scenes with Serkan because the way they set up this S2 plot, they could relate to one another and I was sad to see that he spent 5 years hiding instead

I'm down for this plot! See, now that I know they're doing the long-lost-father plot, it makes all the sense in the world why Serkan doesn't like Kemal and they didn't forge a relationship in the last five years. If they had, then finding out he's his dad would have been a lot less jarring and dramatic. Finding out now and then forging the relationship I think will be a bit more meaty story so it works for me.

To me this story works on a lot of levels, and makes sense with who Serkan is and his very strained relationship with Alptekin. It's like Alptekin sensed it, and resented Serkan his whole life. For those worried that Serkan will no longer have the last name Bolat, I'm not sure where that's coming from. Maybe I'm just not familiar with other cultures, but that is his name, Alptekin raised him, adults don't just up and change their name because of genetics. If you're adopted and you meet your bio dad as an adult, you don't change your name to your bio dad's.

Serkan's name is very much a part of his identity. Which is why this story has so much potential, because it could shake Serkan to his very core to find out who he thought he was, was wrong. He thought he was unlovable, most importantly maybe he'll finally realize there was more at play there and it wasn't at fault.

Anonymous asked: There were a couple things in the last episode that didn't sit well with me. 1. I can't believe Eda made Serkan sleep outside at night and didn't feel bad in the morning when she realized he got sick! 2. The way Seyfi announced Aydan and Kemal's secret relationship. It wasn't his secret to tell, though Aydan did deserve the way everyone reacted. So I got over that pretty quick. 3. Burak!!! He's not the one for Melo. She deserves better and if they end up together in the end, I'm gonna protest.

1. Unless you're going to put the same energy into not believing that Serkan had the gal to remove his bed on the floor as a way to maneuver himself into Eda's bed before she was ready, I really can't relate. It was done for comedy, my advice is to unclench and just giggle along.

2. Or you could look at it as being unfair of Aydan to burden Seyfi with that secret and require he lie to his other employer for five years. I mean I don't disagree that it wasn't his secret to tell, but Aydan had plenty of chances, and it was time for it to come out.

3. This one we are in 100% agreement about. MELO DESERVES BETTER. I will die on this hill.

Anonymous asked: Hi! Do you think Serkan actually believes in Kerem's abilities (he trusts Eda's faith in Kerem) or is this part of his plan to win Eda back? Either way I'm okay, just wondering what you think.

No, I do not think he gained a sudden belief in Kerem's abilities, but I do think he believes in Eda. And if Eda believes in Kerem then when push comes to shove that is enough for Serkan. Of course, he did it as part of his plan to win Eda back. Serkan is taking every opportunity to let Eda know that he respects her and believes in her and I think this was another example of that. There was also an aspect of him trying to win over another person in Eda's circle who was suspicious of him. The fewer people he has working against him, the better! He knows he has no shot with Burak or Ayfer, so this episode he worked on Melo and Kerem. But mostly it was him trying to make Eda's life easier, by smoothing over a personnel problem she was having, thus making working out of Art Life a more attractive option for her. All of those things in one!

Anonymous asked: What do you think about Eda and Piril's friendship? This episode really highlighted how close they've gotten.

Yes, they have gotten close, and I'm happy Eda has a friend, but at the same time I don't trust Piril. This is a woman who discarded Eda and embraced Selin when she was manipulating and abusing a brain-damaged Serkan.

Eda might be able to forget, but I can't. Also as a character she's just boring, rigid and humorless. One of my least favorites on screen.

That being said I do like the triad dynamic of Kiraz/Can, Serkan/Engin, and Eda/Piril, it was fun when they were calling each other at the same time.

Anonymous asked: Idk if they reached out to Maya just because she looked like Hande considering she had no acting experience, but this little girl is like the best casting I've seen. The chemistry with Hande and Kerem is amazing. She's so expressive. I am a Kiraz stan.

She's doing a fantastic job, precious thing! I have no idea how they found her, I know she was an instagram model, but the SCK casting director strikes again. This season doesn't work if we don't fall in love with Kiraz. Thankfully, we did!

Anonymous asked: Hi! Since it seems that we will have 13 episodes, do you think that Edser reconciliation/wedding will be left for the finale, 12-13 ep? Cause Ayse loves to drag and keep them apart.

I think the wedding might be closer to the end, but I think reconciliation will be a bit sooner than that.

However, I have to say that it's really not like they're apart.. is it? I mean this episode we had them living together, sort of casually planning their future together. Next episode we have them pretending to be married and ramping up the sexual tension to white-hot-sun levels, these are all good things. With episodes like this, I don't personally consider the show dragging it out.

In fandom I see a lot of peeps upset because Eda isn't getting immediately back with Serkan and I am feeling inpatient as well, do you think the writers are making a mistake keeping them apart?

Again, I guess my response to you is, by what definition was this episode "keeping them apart?"

Yes, they aren't having sex, but they are living together, working together, raising their daughter together, and I'm a-okay with having a couple of delicious episodes of that while they are still not fully back together romantically. Let's be real, they're still waking up in bed together, flirting, and having a romantic dinner together, so it's not like things aren't moving forward, they are. I'd advise putting aside your impatience, and just sit back, relax, and let the story take its course. There is no need to be anxious with this one. They are going to end up with their happily ever after together, but what we're seeing right now is delightful. It's them in family and domestic situations, them with their child. Most shippers only dream of getting to see this.

This sort of goes back to my stance on episodes 16-24, I know that was a frustrating time for a lot of fans because they were "broken up" but I've always said they may have been officially broken up, but they were in a committed relationship that entire time. And I enjoyed those episodes from that perspective, that tension of them being "apart" but still functioning as a unit and still being emotionally tied together underneath it all. There's kind of a similar situation here, they aren't officially back together, Eda is resisting him, but they are in a committed relationship and I don't understand what the need is to rush through this part? Enjoy the sexual tension of them living together, but not sleeping together. Enjoy the rom com romp of Serkan trying to get in her bed, and Eda taking steps to keep him out. Enjoy their daughter putting them in situations that force them into close proximity, and enjoy them falling into easy compatibility without even trying. Enjoy Serkan planning romantic dinners, and Eda enjoying it despite her every effort to protect her heart.

To me this is very good stuff, and spending this time being impatient and wanting what didn't happen yet, instead of enjoying what did happen is pretty much the recipe for unhappiness not just with this show, but life.

Anonymous asked: i feel like i've seen the exact same frustrations ppl have had with eda right now back around the 20s too after serkan told her about her parents' secret. it was like, now that he's told her the truth, she should automatically forgive him and get back together. same thing happening here, with him accepting his role as kiraz's father. it feels like the same impatience that's put on eda to just forgive him already bc everyone wants happy edser and she's in the way lol.. like girl needs time!

Agreed, and it makes me wonder if these folks have ever watched television before, lmao. Patience! There's a story unfolding and from the first 6 episodes it's clear they have a season long arc planned. All in due time.

Eda spent five years thinking that Serkan stopped loving her, and discarded her for work. The second time he used that excuse to break her heart. My goodness, it's more than okay if she needs a little time to adjust and learn how to trust him again. PLUS that means we get to watch him work on her, try to make inroads, romance her, forge a relationship with his daughter and earn Eda's trust back. What's bad in that?

What did you think of the fragman? It's kind of dumb and unrealistic that they have to dance for a school admission interview.

LMAO. Yes, yes it is, but my question to you is, sana ne?

I mean why do you care if the set up is dumb or not? Or if it's realistic? It's a device to get Serkan and Eda to pretend to be married before they're fully back together and an excuse for us to see Edser smash themselves together in a sensual tangle of limbs while they pretend to be unaffected, while both are being engulfed in USTy flames.

I'm not complaining, why are you?

Come on, this show is silly, it has been from day one, enjoy the fact that we are getting silly plots that force our couple into hilarious and hot situations, because Hande and Kerem are going to give us gold, I guarantee it and I'm going to smile through every second watching it.

xxxxxxxxxx

These asks are from episode 44, they came in and I didn't have time to answer before 45 aired:

Anonymous asked: Do you think there is a point when there are too many “parallels” and it becomes more like scenes are being recycled? Because I kinda felt that way in the last episode. Like she’s just tossing in as many things as she can from those first 11 episodes but I’ve already watched those and Id rather we focus more character progression. I feel like they regressed from those honest conversations last week and were back to being petty this week.

I guess my answer is... no, I don't think there have been too many parallels. Episode 44 was partly about truth bubbling to the surface, with the biggest truth being that Serkan has been in love with Eda every minute of every day since they parted. That is a very important thing for Eda to understand and know and they really can't move forward until she does, because she felt unloved and forgotten all those years. Most of the parallels were illustrating that by showing that he held on to their history, he remembered their history and he honored it. Okay by me.

Anonymous asked: There were some amazing dialogues in the episode. I have two that tie for top. One was when Kiraz said that Serkan was her wish (when blowing her birthday candles), and the other was when Serkan said Apollo was never going to give up on the woman he loves nor on the cherries! Oh my heart had feels both times. What were your favourite dialogues in the episode?

Oh man my head is in 45 now, but both of those examples of yours were great. I loved both of them.

The other than springs to mind is while fishing, Eda telling Serkan that he didn't need to be perfect for Kiraz to love him, he just had to be himself.

Swoon.

That's so important for Serkan to hear, because he doesn't think he's worthy of love as himself, so hearing that from Eda is impactful.

Anonymous asked: reading your ep review, i think a big reason some people are hanging on to hate the s2 plot no matter what are just bc they hate the writer. of course not everyone, but a lot of people will just hate on anything she writes out of spite, even if objectively the episode is very good. idk why that is or when ppl decided they hated her but it's not warranted at all imo. i can understand not liking the premise of this season, but after watching it so far there has been SUCH an improvement edser-wise.

People can like, dislike, love, hate anything they want. Consuming entertainment doesn't have to be a team sport. That being said, from what I've seen I'd agree with your assessment. Teams have formed (Anti-Ayse, Pro-Ayse, etc) and the former are too invested in hating everything she does, the former possibly too forgiving at times. That's their choice, but I have to say I feel bad for the anti brigade, this is a show they loved, and most of them are still watching, but they've completely sabotaged themselves from finding any joy in any of it and I think they're going to regret it once it's over.

Also season 2 is so much better than I thought it could be. I honestly thought there was no way to get back to the early quality, but it's here. The show is really watchable and fun this season, and it's a shame for those who've let their attitudes get so negative that they can't enjoy it.

Anonymous asked: Ok so I'm aware this would be highly uncharacteristic of a dizi - but if they know there's only 6 eps left, my dream would be no more big bad events and just spend it rebuilding EdSer as a couple and a family. Would that be too much to ask lol. They've jumped from one disaster to another. Since we're at the end & they have the luxury of knowing it, I just want to see them working through things as a real unit. They've dated for like 7 eps out of 45? Can we get that above 10 at least????

Congratulations! Because that's exactly what we've gotten so far in season 2. Once we got past the trauma of the 5 year time jump, all the drama has been internal to Eda and Serkan and their relationship. The whole season so far has been about rebuilding Edser as a couple and a family. And if you're watching without the tauntruming twitter teens in your ear, you'd realize we ARE watching them work through things as a real unit.

I'll say this until I'm blue in the face (apparently) just because they are not currently sexing each other up, does not mean they aren't emotionally doing all the things necessary to reach their full potential as a couple.

They are. It's happening. Enjoy it.

#Sen Çal Kapımı #sen cal kapimi #edser #sckask #sck 2x45 #sck 2x06 #sck episode discussion #edser discussion #asklizac

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scarlet--wiccan · 4 years ago

Note

I don’t think Wanda’s mutant status actually matters nearly as much as it should for Billy and Tommy especially, mutants are born with their powers (though usually dormant), Wanda and pietro (currently) got their powers from the HE but the twins were seemingly born mutants. Either she made them mutants subconsciously bc she believed she was, or they’re the mutant children of a mutate (like Franklin Richards). Not defending the retcon and DEFINITELY not defending the way Wanda’s been treated and how weird that makes Tommy’s relationship status but I don’t think non mutant Wanda necessarily means Billy and Tommy aren’t. They should clarify, where Tommy’s powers even come from if pietro got his from THE especially confused me, but usually powered kids of mutates have been considered mutants.

That being said it probably doesn’t matter bc Sc*rletVisi*n is probably going to make all of them mutants point blank so the comics will shift to accommodate that. Apparently Peter from the xmen is going to come in and bring mutants somehow which sounds horrible (and though ATJ still shouldn’t have been playing pietro as a white man he was at least semi recognizable as quicksilver from the comics and Jewish. I hate xmcu quicksilver A LOT more than mcu QS even though neither is good) and ridiculous but the leak has gotten a lot of crap right so far.

I’m assuming the plan is to retcon the retcon with this krakoa event but they’re waiting until the big tv reveal because unfortunately the movies/shows are their priority now. I think the only good think is that krakoa seems so far divorced from any status quo (mcu or otherwise) that making the maximoffs mutants (again) will have to be completely divorced from the mcu so there’s a chance the storyline might not be terrible? I don’t want the whitewashed maximoffs to have any more of an impact on the comic characters, even though I know that’s impossible.

Well, for one thing, they just retconned Franklin as a "false" mutant, too. I'm not saying that was a good choice, but if we're talking about the current status quo, he definitely doesn't hold up as an example. The definition of "mutant" has shifted over the years, but, generally speaking, when we talk about X-Men mutants, we're talking about people with a specific genetic feature, the X-gene. I suppose that a child of a human mutate who inherits superhuman or abnormal genetic traits from their parents would be, by definition, a mutant, but if they don't have the X-gene, it's not the same thing. Are there a lot of other characters like Franklin, who were allegedly born with the X-gene because their parents are mutates? Because I can't think of any off the top of my head.

Anyways, this is a hard point to debate because the 2015 retcons were poorly executed and poorly justified-- it's, like, impossible to retroactively view Wanda and Pietro as non-mutants when, in the past, their mutant status was an integral part of their characters and a key plot point in several major events. House of M, Son of M, and AvX literally don't make sense if they aren't mutants-- Pietro was depowered by the "no more mutants" spell, and Hope was able to mimic Wanda's powers. Neither of these things would be possible if they weren't real mutants. The explanation can't just be that Wanda believed herself to be a mutant, and so her magic functioned accordingly-- if that's how it's supposed to work, the reveal in Axis never could have happened the way it did. Do you see what I mean? I'm running circles around myself trying to make it make sense.

That aside, Billy and Tommy's status as mutants has always been a little nebulous-- I don't think they're ever clearly identified as such in any Young Avengers titles, although they were definitely described as mutants in some of their other appearances-- Secret Invasion always comes to mind. You could argue that their powers are a factor of their magical resurrection, rather than being genetic, but, as I've said in the past, I do think that the twins are genetically continuous to their original incarnations. More to the point, their "mutations" match Wanda and Pietro's almost exactly. This is taken as proof of their connection to Wanda, so, based on that significance, I'm inclined to say the nature of their powers should also match, mutant or not. Plus, don't you think it'd be a weird coincidence if they had the same abilities, but from a different source?

[As a disclaimer, I do tend to think of/refer to the entire Maximoff family as mutants when I'm not directly addressing the retcons. This is because they were written as such for decades, so they are still mutant characters within most of the existing material.]

__________________________________

I have heard some of those leaks and rumors, and I agree that if the Axis retcon is going to be reversed, even partially, it will probably happen if and when MCU!Wanda comes to be known as a mutant. As I've said, I'm not invested in that character and I don't think there's any way, at this point, to fix the problems that she represents, so I don't really care where she ends up in the movies. I will say that I'm not terribly worried about the films influencing Wanda's appearance or characterization in the comics-- even after the Axis retcon, which was clearly motivated by IP concerns related to the movies, the changes she went through had nothing to do with MCU!Wanda and actually differentiated them even further.

That said, while Hickman's treatment of Wanda may be a red herring or set-up for some big reveal, I don't trust him, or Howard, with the character in any circumstance. More importantly, I care less about Wanda being a mutant than I care about the way Hickman, like Remender before him, is carrying on with the worst, most offensive aspects of her mid-2000s characterization. The levels of ableism and misogyny House of M, Disassembled, etc are too great to ignore. It is irresponsible for contemporary writers to refer back to those stories without acknowledging those problems, or at least attempting to shift the narrative for the better.

It's also really hurtful to me, as someone who sees their identity and history reflected in this character, to see her painted as pseudo-genocidal, or a race/class traitor, or a self-hating minority. Wanda has only become that character because gadjekane writers have chosen to project those those notions onto the image of a Roma woman. That sucks, and it sucks even more that so many fans, and industry pros, turn their ire onto the character, rather than reckoning with the real problem.

#robintext #wanda maximoff #x-men #scarlet witch #tommy shepherd

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

Text

Girl I Met On The Internet, 2/? (Crystal x Gigi) - Strawberry

a/n: aaaa i’m so glad everyone liked the first chapter! i think this story will end up staying focused on gigi and crystal for the most part, but there is some (one sided) jankie in this chapter if you’re into that! also: just in case no one got the reference, the nickname crystal gives gigi, ‘georgia rose’,comes from the 1d lyrics “Said her name was georgia rose, and her daddy was a dentist” from their song ‘best song ever’!

gigi: are u okay :( ily crystal

crystal: yeah i just got picked on by this cheerleader that doesnt like me

Technically, she wasn’t lying. Crystal didn’t think it was too bad, considering she really only ever saw Dahlia in history class, but she still made it her mission to make that 45 minutes rough for Crystal whenever possible. This time it was pushing all of Crystal’s belongings off of her desk while she was leaving.

gigi: fuck. im sorry.

crystal: it’s fine dskjdshjgkjf i wish all cheerleaders could take notes from you and jan

gigi: yaaas me and jan invented being nice

gigi: but i was wondering if maybe you could teach me about one direction later tonight?

Crystal had tried to convince the group earlier in the week that One Direction was the best boy band ever, and had only managed to get Jan to agree. She was glad that Gigi had finally come to her senses.

crystal: finally changing your mind? amazayn!

gigi: i regret asking now. take that pun back to 2011!!!!

The rest of the day went as normal. The chat was pretty active, but eventually died down at the end of the school day. Everyone seemed to have plans; Jan was studying, Jaida was going out to hang with friends, Nicky was sleeping, and Heidi was starting a new challenge on the Sims. It appeared to be just her and Gigi, alone in the group chat.

Crystal decided to message Gigi privately, not wanting the rest of the girls to see her go into full stan mode. If someone asked Crystal about her interests, she could go hours before thinking of stopping herself.

crystal: ok miss gigi are you ready for your 1d crash course?

Crystal told Gigi everything she wanted to know and even more. A history of how they got together, way too much information on each of the five boys, telling her the best songs on each album, and making sure that Gigi knew ‘Midnight Memories’ was their best album.

gigi: but ur @ is dedicated to made in the am?? fraud!

crystal: HELPFDFHBJ

crystal: mmcrystal sounds weird… like no thanks

gigi: that was very interesting.. i’ll def listen to midnight memories in the morning <3

crystal: YAY! gigi 1d stan finally

gigi: no promises! :)

Crystal didn’t respond to that, not really knowing what to talk about now. Having a group of friends helped her be less awkward, but it definitely didn’t fix that problem completely.

gigi: do u wanna play 21 questions or something?? to get to know eachother better???

Of course, Crystal jumped at the chance to get to know the other girl better. It started very innocently, asking about favorite colors and foods. Gigi quickly changed that.

gigi: uhh… have u ever kissed a girl?

crystal: sadly no.. my state is full of straight people

gigi: same.. ur turn

crystal: this feels awkward to ask but uhhh….

As soon as she hits send, she instantly regrets it. She backtracks what she had originally typed, desperately trying to come up with another question. Crystal was not able to think of anything else.

gigi: ????

“I guess I’ll have to do it,” Crystal says, talking to absolutely no one. She types it out again, looking away from her phone as she blindly tried to hit the send button, like it would help her situation be any less flustering for her.

crystal: how long have you and nicky been dating?

Would Gigi find it weird that she asked? Gigi was the one who brought up kissing girls, not Crystal, so it would be fine. Right?

gigi: CRYSTAL WHATBDGNHSDMFD

gigi: nicky and i are not dating omg im single

gigi: she’s like my sister. plus i would never do long distance

Crystal was so embarrassed. She was relieved this conversation was taking place through a screen, so Gigi wouldn’t see her blushing face.

She was pleased that she was wrong about the two girls, but Gigi’s answer was upsetting to her.

They asked a few more personal questions before Gigi started asking Crystal would you rather questions instead. Crystal’s favorite out of them was if she would rather get a mullet or dress like a clown every day for the rest of her high school career. The answer was both, obviously.

They spent the rest of the night sending each other stupid questions, giggling to themselves. The later it got, the more Gigi would flirt with her. At least Crystal thought it was flirting.

gigi: it’s really late and i have a test tomorrow so im gonna go to sleep. goodnight, babe

Gigi always would say ‘goodnight, bitch’, and this made Crystal even more confused. The ongoing joke that lesbians had the hardest time telling if a girl is into them or not was one of Crystal’s favorites, but now she couldn’t help but wonder if that was exactly what was happening to her. There was obviously a connection between them, but it was unclear to Crystal if it was just platonic.

It didn’t hit her until later that night, while she was trying to fall asleep, but Crystal wasn’t entirely sure where Gigi lived. She knew they were in the same time zone, but wasn’t sure what state she was in. It was totally possible that Gigi lived in Missouri, but Crystal highly doubted it. Though Gigi obviously trusted Crystal enough to want to play 21 questions with her, she was still very private, and Crystal wasn’t too sure if Gigi would tell her what state she was in.

Crystal fell asleep thinking about her highly unrealistic perfect world, where Gigi lived in Missouri and where Crystal wasn’t just another Nicky.

Crystal got onto Twitter right after waking up the next morning, ready to ask Gigi if she happened to live in Missouri, but quickly got distracted with a very interesting conversation going on in the group chat.

jan!: now i may not be gay but i’m in love with a woman… 2 words jackie

jaida: i- that’s only one word

jan!: fuck

heidi: the way i can’t tell if you’re joking or not

jan!: the way i don’t think i am joking

gigi: YAAS about time u admitted that u like her

crystal: hold on i thought jan was straight?? who’s jackie???

nicky: do you really think a straight person would hang out with us?

crystal: good point

jan!: I AM STRAIGHT! i think? i don’t know i’m so confused.

heidi: jackie is jan’s local @ crystal

gigi: jan be like: im straight.

gigi: but also jan is like: wow jackie is so pretty and she’s so funny and smart i’m going to fail geometry so she can tutor me but no homo!

heidi: the delusion janice has…

jaida: not to be serious but if you think you like jackie, you probably aren’t straight baby. everyone else hush and let her talk

nicky: ^^ yeah jan what happened

jan!: first of all i did not fail geometry i just said we should study together so we did!!! and have been for months! but last night i couldn’t focus at all bc she’s so pretty all i wanted to do was k*ss her out of nowhere

In a way, Crystal could definitely relate. Gigi wasn’t her local, she still didn’t know what the girl looked like, but she still kind of wanted to kiss her. She couldn’t focus on anything besides Gigi sometimes, not like she would ever admit it.

All of the girls had sent many comforting messages addressed to Jan, saying that it was okay, and she has all the time she needs to figure out her feelings. Afterwards, everyone had gone back to being playful. Gigi also tried to convince her to make a move on Jackie, which Jan refused.

gigi: if u talk to her u guys can get married <3

crystal: gigi you’re so stupid i love it

jan!: omg did someone say stupid love??? stream!

gigi: crystal back me up :(

crystal: i might’ve found out who jackie is only 10 minutes ago but i will cry if jan doesn’t talk to her right now

jan!: better start crying bc i dont think i can even look at her now

jaida: that’s not saying much at all. you cried the other day bc gigi sent a pic of her dog

crystal: I AM A NANCY STAN FIRST AND A HUMAN SECOND!!

Crystal knew she looked like an idiot, walking to her locker with her eyes glued to her phone and a dopey smile on her face but she couldn’t care less.

The day actually went well for Crystal. The highlight of her day was finding out that the story she wrote for her creative writing class had gotten the highest grade out of everyone in the class, earning her a piece of candy.

crystal: just got candy and a 99% on my story for class… i truly have the mind of a mastermind

jaida: beauty and intelligence in one combined!

Navigating through the halls was much more difficult when your eyes are glued to your phone, but replying to a meme Jaida sent seemed much more appealing to Crystal than getting to her seventh period without worrying about bumping into someone. And bumping into someone, she did.

“What the actual fuck, weirdo?” Dahlia yelped, looking extremely offended, “Get off of your sad, cracked phone and watch where your dumb ass is going.”

Crystal just stared at her, frozen in fear. Dahlia taunted her daily, but this was very different from how she usually acts towards her. It was quite terrifying.

“I swear to God, if you ever look at me, let alone fucking touch me again-” She continued, but before she could finish her statement, she was interrupted by her friend, Georgina running over and pulling her away.

Crystal didn’t think Georgina shared Dahlia's hatred for her, and Crystal didn’t hate Georgina either. Georgina actually seemed very sweet besides the fact that she had never bothered to step in on the rare occasion Dahlia happened to target Crystal outside of class.

“Can you please leave her alone? We don’t have time for this.” Georgina groaned, looking back at Crystal, flashing her a quick smile, before turning around to escort Dahlia to what Crystal assumed was cheerleading practice.

“But she bumped into me!” Dahlia whined, not used to being interrupted like this.

“Really? Wow, funny. I don’t care.”

Once they were out of sight, Crystal was alone again. She pulled out her phone and went to check if anyone had said anything else in the chat; just Jan freaking out, because Jackie had smiled at her in the hallway.

heidi: everyone say i if you think jan should stop being a baby and ask jackie out

jaida: i

crystal: i

jan!: WTF

jan!: friendship ended with heidi, jaida and crystal. now nicky and gigi are my best friends

jaida: they would say i too if they were online and you know that

jan!: i don’t need friends! they disappoint me!

Crystal decided to not use her phone while she was walking home, not wanting to have a repeat of the Dahlia situation. Her after school routine changed a lot in the past week, making a rule to not check Twitter before completing her homework. Her Twitter addiction was getting worse, but since it was also causing her to be more productive with doing her homework, she saw no issues with it. Once she had finished, she picked up her phone to see that Gigi had messaged her less than a minute ago.

gigi: hey clown :) im done w practice

crystal: WHY AM I A CLOWNDFSHDM

gigi: u just have clown energy. i cant and wont explain

crystal: honestly yeah i see it but can i at least be your clown wife or something

gigi: yeah <3 hey clown wife! i listened to most of midnight memories and it was really good! my fave song is u and i

If that’s not love, then what is? If that’s not friendship, then what is? Crystal had never been able to get anyone to listen to anything she recommended, ever. She was filled with glee, double tapping the message to heart it. It meant a lot to her.

crystal: YAYAYAYAYA im so glad but it looks so ugly when you spell it like that

gigi: my fave song you and i* >:(

crystal: better

gigi: if i have to stop spelling it as u to make you not divorce me i will

Crystal knew deep down it was just a joke, but it made her heart race. The feeling she got every time Gigi would flirt with her was very unfamiliar, but very nice. It didn’t help that Crystal thought ‘You and I’ was one of the most romantic songs One Direction had, she couldn’t help but make the fact Gigi liked it out of all of the other songs into something it was not.

This reminded her of her late night thoughts. She had completely forgotten to ask Gigi where she lived, but the idea didn’t seem the greatest now that she was fully awake. She was still curious though, so against her better judgement she asked, without a segway or anything.

crystal: i forgot to ask but what state do you live in? asking for science

gigi: oh i live in missouri

crystal: omg me too

gigi: i don’t wanna reveal where but this is amazing.. maybe we won’t have to break the distance at all <3

Pleased that she somehow got an answer, Crystal changed the conversation into a discussion of ‘Midnight Memories’, and if Gigi agreed with the opinions Crystal had shared the night before. She did, for the most part and before they knew it, it was time for Gigi to go sleep. Had they really talked all evening?

gigi: i have to get up early so i need to go to sleep but im really glad jan added u to the gc

crystal: and im happy you asked me about one direction!

gigi: me too. ur cute when ur passionate. i hope we can continue to grow closer

crystal: i’d like that.

gigi: goodnight, my clown :)

crystal: goodnight, georgia rose

gigi: U DID NOT

gigi: my full name isnt even georgia and dad isnt even a dentist but i’ll allow it bc i know u think u invented comedy

gigi: ok gn now <33 luv u

crystal: gn!!! sleep well

Crystal wanted them to stay like this forever.

#rpdr fanfiction #gigi goode #crystal methyd #jan sport #jaida essence hall #heidi n closet #nicky doll #dahlia sin #crygi #lesbian au #high school au #social media au #girl i met on the internet #strawberry #submission #s12

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oknstark · 5 years ago

Text

Stubborn - Thor x Fem!Reader

Request by anon: Can I get a breeding/impreg (whichever you prefer), with some jealous/possessive Thor, please? 😇 👀

Warnings: smut, possessive!Thor, breeding kink, dirty shit.

Word count: 2,242

A/N: Yeeez, this was longer than I expected but here we are! Another filthy smut for Thor bc yes. Also Idk if this counts as being possessive or else but I tried, just couldn’t get the idea out of my head. Hope you enjoy dear anon! :) As always, I do not speak english so if you find any mistakes please let me know!

MASTERLIST

***

You fell on the ground with a hard strike, a scream left your throat at the sudden pain. You blinked, trying to recover some strenght. Clenching your eyes, you almost sensed the blaze from the horde of fire demons sorrounding you. By mere instinct, you lifted your hands, even though you knew deep inside that it wasn’t going to help at all.

The sound of thunder near you made you crawl back on the ground, and seeing your savior you let a sigh of relieve. Thor looked down at you and quickly made you stand up with his strength, his arm tightly wrapped in your waist.

“You’re so stubborn,” he said to you. His tone seemed angry and deeper than his normal one.

“Let me remind you why we match so much,” you answered, looking back at him with a serious look.

“Hey!” Loki’s voice came from behind. You turned around to meet him, as he throwed your double long spear at you. “We still in the middle of this, you can talk about your marital problems later.”

The blackhaired rapidly joined the battle again with the warrios that had left. Thor gave you one last look before striking the fire demons away. “Don’t do anything that you may regret later.”

“Well, I’m still married at you. I don’t think there is something worst than that!” you said before running to the fight one more time.

***

You were in front of the creature without any weapon, your breathing going quickly; you almost felt your heart wanting to get out of your chest. There were no more fire demons at this point, at least not where you ended up in this part of Muspelheim, but that woman was still there. That horrible, wicked woman. She had you between her and a cliff, threating to burn you alive - or even kill you herself - if you tried to do something.

A twisted smile appeared on her lips. “Look at you. Thinking you can get rid off me so easily.”

“You don’t know what you’re messing up with, Amora.”

“Oh, but you and the royal family do,” she lifted her brows, making more steps to get closer.

You walked back, almost to the edge of the cliff. “Why don’t you give it back? This does not have to end so bad.”

The sorcerer made another step and her hands grabbed your throat, lifting you from the floor so easy. “You just make me sick!” she yelled.

Her grip going hard on you, as she walked to the border. You could feel the heat of the lava on the cave. You closed your eyes roughly, trying to escape with no success. All you could hear was the blaze down, and you knew that Amora would waste no time in doing her task fast. She always wanted you dead.

The cave started to tremble of all sudden and you just nearly gave up. The air was leaving your lungs and you could feel something running through your body, you could swear she was poisoning you with one of her spells. But suddenly a lightning hit her, forcing her to drop you to the floor. You could hear Thor and Loki coming to you, but the poison was already drowning in your blood, leaving you unconscious.

***

You opened your eyes and stared at the ceiling. You felt dizzy at the moment and your head hurted like something was bumping on the back of your head. Whimpering in pain, you rubbed your eyes with your hands, trying to accustom to the little light in the room.

“I see you are up” a soft voice talked. You turned to the owner and saw a healer with a little smile on her face, some steps away from the bed. She started to walking to the small table next to the bed and served you a glass of water for you to drink it after you sat on the mattress. “I will talk to the prince and notify that you already woke up” the woman bowed and left the room.

You stayed there, feeling confused and sick. Meanwhile you waited for the healer to come back again, you tried to built again your memories. The last thing you remembered was being in Muspelheim, trying to stop Amora to destroy the realm, and for consquent make instability to the Nine Realms. Plus it didn’t help at all the fact that she had a infinity stone with her. How she could find it? Nobody knows.

The door opening got you out of your thoughts and you saw Thor entering the room. His steps stopped at the side of the bed and looked at you, but you couldn’t read his gaze. You never did, truly. Otherwise, this time it was... different. His face was covered in scars and you knew that some days had passed since you were in Muspelheim.

“How long have I been out?” you murmured.

“Three days,” his voice came out cold.

You furrowed your brows. “What did happen to me?”

“Amora poisoned you. Loki and the healers were able to look for an antidote.”

“And the stone? You have it?”

Thor nodded. “It’s safe in the Weapon’s Vault.”

You nodded in answer and kept silence. It was something bad with him in the very moment, but you couldn’t be able to say why or what was wrong. He seemed tired and you knew he would be angry at you. Sighing, you took the blanket off your body stood up with some difficulty, but you managed to do so.

You started to walk, wanting to reach your chambers, but his hand grabbed your arm and stopped you. “You are still weak” he said. “Stay here as long as you can, so the healers can come and watch over you.”

Your eyes narrowed at him. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“No, you risked your duty. You’re not fine,” he settled. His eyes meeting yours.

“We have the stone and I assume Amora is about to pay for her crimes. Of course it’s fine, you will not worry about something else threatening us for a long time” you answered.

“It’s not just about her, I’m talking about you” Thor remarked, still not letting you go. “You almost got killed.”

“But I’m fine!” you yelled, getting upset. “Now, let me-”

“You are not!” he shouted, his grip tightening around you.

“We survived!” Thor clenched his jaw. “We survived, okay?” you repeated, your eyes throwing anger at him. “And everything is fine!”

***

You sighed, watching your reflection in the mirror. The night gown you used had no sleeves and it made you to trace these new marks on your shoulders and neck. Amora made them with her spell, Thor told you. She poisoned you with a strange substance, and as Loki had informed you, you had to die.

Though, he managed to take it out from you - at least most of it. Your body still had some effects from the spell, but Loki assured you that you were going to recover as time would pass. You traced the marks with your fingertips, almost shaking at the thought of what would've happen to you if this thing got completely in your organism.

A little surprised, you saw Thor coming from behind to you in a slow pace. His eyes always told you nothing, and since you woke up the day before, you both weren't able to talk propperly about the matter. He was serious and you weren't that much of a speaker. You both were forced to make a bond getting married, but lately you didn't feel like he was doing a good job on making things work.

"I'm sorry... I guess," you whispered, avoiding his gaze.

He didn't give an answer, but got closer. His body touching your back as his hand touched your shoulder in a gently way, caressing your scars. He leaned slowly and kissed your neck, making you shiver. Closing your eyes, you let yourself enjoy the moment. It wasn't very often you both were this intimate, mainly for your lack of actual love for each other. Though, inside you grew this feeling for him on the past weeks. His lips moved on your skin, sucking and biting gently, like he was tasting you.

"You're so stubborn" he whispered through your ear, sending chills on your body. "You never learn" his other hand grabbed your waist to have your back against him. You held a moan when you felt him getting hard behind you.

The hand on your hip made its way between your legs and Thor lifted up your gown, just to set aside your panties as much as he could. His fingers moved to your already wet entrance and rubbed your clit slowly. You let out a sob at the sensation and opened your eyes, you saw his own, dark and full of lust gaze through the mirror. His other hand touched your neck with some pressure, as he enjoyed how you were squirming under his touch.

A small whimper fell out from your lips when his finger entered you, moving in and out on you slowly. It was killing you. You needed him so bad, and Thor knew it.

"Oh, norns," you moaned, moving your hips to encourage the god to keep going.

"Eager are we?" Thor mocked, his hand around your neck whitout hurting you. His blue eyes locked with yours trough the mirror.

"Just a little," you said. He then added another finger, trusting a little faster.

If it was something in which you and Thor were compatible it was sex. Of course, you had your fights very often, but sex was great. He knew how to punish you when you did something wrong, or something he doesn't likes; and you knew how to tease him in the worst manner, until he was begging for you to let him cum. It seems that this time, it was his turn to take revenge from your last encounter.

Thor then pulled out his fingers from you, gaining a dissatisfied moan. He just took you in his arms and let you down on the bed. You helped him to get off his clothes and cape, until you both were naked. On top of you, he kissed your neck roughly, feeling his beard scratching your skin, while your hands wandered over his chest to his lenght.

You caressed his hard dick, and he groaned biting your sweet spot. You rubbed his lenght, going up and down slowly, torturing him. Thor's fingers went to your folds one more time, and you kissed him hard on the lips, taking your time to pleassure each other.

"I was so worried about you on that field," he whispered, breaking the kiss, and positioning himself at your entrance. Your foreheads touching. "You are mine, and no one else can take me from you."

He slammed into you in a swift thrust, not letting you to adjust. It burnt, but it felt so good. You moaned and you held on his strong arms, your nails leaving marks on his skin.

"Do you understand?" Thor asked darkly. His eyes fixated on yours. He thrusted one more time when you didn't respond. "Understand?"

"Oh, yes! I understand!" you moaned. “Just move, please!"

Thor then just thrusted at a face pace without answer. He literally pounded you into the matress, and you were a mess. Moans and groans mixed, with the sound of your skin on the room. His big hands spreading your legs wider to keep his movements.

Your hands held tight his neck and his arm, your eyes closed and your lips open while you moaned was the most beautiful sight for the prince. Thor always loved to see you like this, mercyless under his body, knowing he was the only one to make you feel this way. Rapidly you forget how to be the brave and cold warrior from the field, just to submit to him and your desire.

"Oh, my," you moaned when his lenght touch your sweet spot. Your eyes opened, and were about to close once again.

"No, you will look at me," Thor commanded. "You will look at me when I come inside you."

Your eyes stayed open, and you bit your lip. Thor loved to come on your cunt.

"I'm so close," you whispered on his lips. His pace never ceased.

Thor was close too, and when he felt it coming, his fingers rubbed your clit. He came undone over you, still fucking you on the bed. Your walls clenched around him, and you let out the loudest moan ever as you reached your orgasm a couple of moments later. He groaned, emptying him seed inside you, making sure you got everything from him.

One, two thrusts more and he stopped. Your foreheads touched, feeling each others breath and a layer of sweat ran on your bodies. Thor then pulled out from you, watching his cum leaking on your thighs.

You sat down on the matress, and took the rest of his seed with your fingers, licking them while you locked your eyes on Thor's gaze. Thor gave you a steamy kiss, holding on to you.

"You were a fool on the field, do not do that again," he said.

"Well, if you are going to punish me for it, I think I can do it more often," you smirked.

#thor x reader #thor odinson x reader #thor smut #thor imagine #thor odinson imagine #loki #loki imagine #loki x reader #marvel imagine #smut #marvel #mcu #angst #thor x you

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usemeasabadexample · 5 years ago

Text

Bechloe Fic: The Kraken Has Been Unleashed

Summary: Chloe has a way with her. That’s for sure. And, as uncomfortable as it might make her to think about it in this very moment, Beca’s starting to wonder just what that really means.

Set at the beginning of Pitch Perfect 2. Kind of canon, kind of...not canon. Mostly fluff and fun and maybe some very mild angst at best. Nothing too stressful. We’ve been through enough of that!

Read on AO3

Chapter 10

Beca's alarm wakes her up way too early the next morning.

Usually, she'd snooze the clock ten times, roll out of bed and barely have time to brush her teeth before running to class. This morning is different though. It's the first day of her internship and she wants to be prepared. Wants to look professional. And she's pretty sure professional doesn't include a messy bun with sweatpants and one of Chloe's Barden t-shirts.

So she gets up early. Showers and puts on something nice before grabbing a bowl of cereal.

“You look hot this morning DJ. What's up?” Stacie ambles into the kitchen and gestures to Beca's outfit while opening up the refrigerator.

Beca looks up from her breakfast. “Hey Stace.” She swallows the bite she just shoved into her mouth. “Nothing. Just...won't have time to change before the party later.” The stool screeches across the floor as she stands and drops her bowl into the sink. “See you tonight.” She grabs her things and rushes out before Stacie can ask anymore questions. Stacie can sniff out a lie from a mile away so the last thing she needs to do is play a game of 20 questions with the house genius.

“Can’t wait!” Stacie calls out as Beca hustles out of the door to get to her first class on time, excited for what the day holds.

-----

Jesse’s car is rounding the corner as Beca walks away from her last class so she picks up speed. She doesn’t trust him. He has a knack for embarrassing her in public places. Not maliciously. Just...dorky.

“Hey superstar!” Jesse shouts out of the car window as he screeches to a halt. He leans over the center console to sling the passenger door open for Beca. “Damn! Work it Bec!”

Beca practically sprints the rest of the way to the car. “Oh my god.” She jumps in and slams the door, frantically trying to roll up the window. “Please shut up.”

Jesse laughs. “Is that any way to talk to your chauffeur for the day?”

“Keep it up and it’ll only get worse.” Beca side eyes him and adjusts the radio.

Jesse always plays late fifties pop songs and while Beca appreciates all types of music, she can't sit there and listen to it for extended periods. Although it does give her ideas for new mixes. Chloe always loves it when she mashes up old school songs with new stuff. Her thoughts stay trained on her best friend and she wonders what Chloe is up to. Between the rush of getting ready and trying not to freak out, there just wasn't time to see her this morning.

That's her excuse anyway.

If she's being honest, avoidance tactics may have been at work. She feels like absolute shit for keeping the internship from the redhead but she doesn't know how to broach the subject. Under normal circumstances, she knows she would be excited to tell Chloe. But there's a lot at stake for the Bellas right now and she doesn't want to add anything else to the older woman's plate. She wants Chloe to know that she's there and she's present and she's going to fight for them because letting Chloe down would be the worst feeling in the world.

Jesse's small talk forces her to dismiss the thought. They talk about classes and auditions and their last hood night party the Trebles are hosting later tonight and before she knows it, they’re pulling up to the Residual Heat Recording Studio.

Her nerves bubble up again.

She's excited and hopeful but she still has the weight of guilt lingering in the back of her mind. Jesse reassures her that everything will be okay. He reminds her that she's worked hard for this opportunity and she deserves this shot.

She gives him a quick kiss before running away while he continues to holler out more embarrassing comments. He's definitely a nerd but he knows her well. His goofy antics have calmed her down considerably and she takes a moment to appreciate his charm before charging ahead.

-----

The afternoon is a blur.

She fucks up her name tag picture, makes a shit ton of coffee and hands out a lot of snacks. She's nobody important here but that's not the point. There's a lot to be learned. A lot to be gained. This is her shot. It's her first step into the world of music production and she's looking forward to paying her dues.

In a bizarre series of events, her boss unexpectedly storms into the office and announces they'll be producing a new Christmas album for Snoop Dogg. The Snoop Dogg. It's crazy but she stifles her excitement. She doesn't want to be labeled as some psycho newbie on her first day but relaxing isn't easy. Between draining her brain for a quick idea on how to make Snoop's new album original and the exchanges happening between this Dax kid and her boss, she’s struggling to control her reactions. Her facial expressions always give her away and the one she's wearing right now screams absolute confusion because Dax is now high-kneeing around the room and this is all really fucking weird.

Thankfully, her phone buzzes and it gives her a reason to look away from the train wreck happening in front of her. She has four messages, none of which she noticed earlier. They’re from Jesse, Amy, and Chloe respectively.

She opens Jesse's message first. It's some idiotic, cheesy 'hope everything is going well’ message and she replies by calling him a dork. It seems like her go-to word when referring to him.

She hesitates before opening Amy's messages because she never knows what the blonde is going to say. It's almost always inappropriate and usually impossible to understand, but she opens it anyway.

Shorty! Where is our toothbrush?!

Yep.

What the fuck does Amy mean by our toothbrush? Beca refuses to believe the obvious. That Amy is implying (more like directly stating) that they use the same toothbrush. That just cannot be right. And even if it is, why would it be missing?

She makes a mental note to buy a new one immediately.

Maybe two.

The second message is almost just as cringeworthy.

Your acawife was asking where you were! You're gonna be in the dingo house tonight!

The urge to roll her eyes is too strong to avoid so she rolls them around before deciding she will not be messaging Amy back. She clicks Chloe's message instead. It's the most recent one.

Trip to Copenhagen is all booked! AHH! :-P

Beca chuckles to herself. She can hear Chloe's voice singing the message in her head. It's cute but it also makes her feel bad because they haven't even discussed the issue of Worlds and Beca promised she would be there for Chloe. Yet, here she is. At an internship that she still hasn't told Chloe about while the redhead sits at home and plans alone all afternoon. She knows she's going to have to address all of this at some point but how? This isn't really her area of expertise.

Another message comes through.

It's Chloe again.

You okay? Haven't heard from you today! :-(

Ouch.

Beca wonders why she acts like such a dick sometimes. There doesn’t seem to be any logical excuse. Especially when it comes to Chloe. She's the last person on Earth Beca wants to disappoint but it seems like it's destined to happen.

She takes a deep breath and types out a reply.

Sorry Chlo! Busy day. I'll see you at the Trebles’ later!

It's vague and lame but she can't tell the truth and she doesn’t want to outright lie to Chloe so she hits send and shoves her phone back into her pocket as her boss storms back into the room. She straightens in her seat and tries to blend in for the rest of the day.

-----

Beca exits the studio, overwhelmed and stressed, and throws her bag into the back seat of a cab before jumping in and giving the driver directions to the Bellas’ house.

She leans back and takes a deep breath that vibrates her through her lips on the way out. She knew this business would be cut-throat but wow . Today proved how messed up the music industry really is. The people are self-serving and the pace is incredibly fast and it feels like the multi-tasking skills needed to get through each minute are nearly impossible to master.

She’ll get through it though. She has to. This is her shot to get out there and start making a name for herself. This is her dream.

Plus, she’s glad to have the first day out of the way. It can only get easier from here.

Hopefully.

Possibly.

Who knows.

She shakes it off and pulls her phone out of her pocket. She hasn’t had a chance to check it since she messaged Chloe back earlier. Sure enough, there are a few new messages from her best friend. Chloe has no qualms about sending Beca multiple texts in a row. Even when Beca doesn’t answer right away, Chloe will continue babbling without worrying about whether or not she's being annoying.

If it were anyone else, Beca would probably send a string of expletives and permanently block their number. But, like everything else, Chloe is the exception. She smiles and opens their text thread.

Okay! Can't wait! XO

I hope they have the green punch!

Please bust out the cell phone dance move! I love it!!! ;-)

So, a Legacy showed up to our door tonight to audition and we accepted! She's totes amazing and you're going to love her!

I don't think we are breaking the rules bc she came to us! Loophole! :-D

BTW, Legacy means that her mom was a Bella. Her mom is THE Katherine Junk! Omg!

Beca chuckles at the enthusiasm in the messages and pictures Chloe grinning excitedly as she wrote them. A wave of anticipation hits her and she’s overwhelmed with the sudden need to get home as quickly as possible. She tells herself that she’s just anxious to get home after a long day but she knows that's a lie. Before reading those texts, she was tired. Even considered not showing up to the party but there’s a new energy flowing through her and she wills the cab driver to hurry the fuck up already.

When she finally makes it home, she throws her bag down, uses the bathroom, and races through the bushes to the Trebles’ house.

-----

Beca approaches the party, surprised at how out of control things seem already. It's still pretty early but the acapella crowd clearly came to party tonight. She wonders what type of trouble the Bellas are getting into and smiles thinking about all of their past Hood Nights. They've had some wild ones and she's sure this last one will be no different. Especially if Chloe has anything to do with it.

Chloe has a way of making Hood Nights, and most parties in general, more fun than they probably should be. Some of them, in particular, stand out for reasons that Beca isn’t prepared to think about right now. Mainly because they involve Chloe getting way too handsy.

But she already said she’s not thinking about that and scans the crowd for red hair instead.

Oddly enough, she can’t quickly spot her best friend but she spies Jesse sitting up on the deck. And because the night has her feeling light and giddy, she creeps up behind him and grabs him by the shoulders before giving him a quick peck on the lips.

His drink almost slips out of his hands and Beca mutters a quick “oh shit” before dropping down next to him. She takes a deep breath, ready to de-stress after such a crazy day, but Jesse starts asking about the internship and about Chloe and damnit.

“Oh, she’s just..she’s like, locked into the World’s right now and I’m looking for the right time. It’s-- I’ll tell her.” Beca tries to shrug it off like it’s no big deal but it dampens her mood and she excuses herself to grab a drink at the tiki hut. Why did Jesse have to bring up Chloe and the internship in the same sentence? Beca already feels like the absolute worst person in the world and the thought of Chloe having to ask Jesse for her whereabouts just makes it even worse.

This sucks.

Beca takes a huge gulp of whatever concoction is being served tonight and notes that it’s not the green punch that Chloe was hoping for but she can't dwell on it because she notices there’s a really tall girl just standing there staring at her. The girl's arms are stretched out towards Beca and she has no idea what’s about to happen.

“Hi!”

“Hi…” Beca responds hesitantly, still completely unsure.

The taller woman rambles something about being sisters and then it clicks for Beca. She realizes this is the girl- correction- the Legacy, that’s been added to their team.

“Oh yeah! Hi. Chloe texted me that we added a Legacy. I...didn't even know that was a thing.” She lifts her shoulders and gestures with her hands as she speaks. It feels odd.

The girl giggles and keeps staring at Beca so Beca just chuckles uncomfortably and takes another sip.

Then another.

And they're both just sort of standing there awkwardly.

Beca gives a tense smile and widens her eyes, which finally seems to break the other girl’s manic look.

She slaps her hands to her forehead way too hard. “Ouch! Oh my god. I’m sorry! I'm Emily. By the way. Sorry. I forgot that you didn’t know my name yet and I think the others have already started calling me Legacy so it’s totally okay if you want to call me that too I just figured you should know my real name because I totally-”

Beca reaches out and briefly touches Emily’s arm to stop her rambling. “Emily.” She pulls her hand away. “Nice to meet you.”

Emily beams and Beca really wants to get as far away from this interaction as possible.

“We can get to know each other better later. Right now…” Beca uses her head to gesture across the yard where she can see a few of the Bellas bouncing up and down. “Let’s go catch up with everyone else.”

“Oh!” Emily nods rapidly and Beca thinks she looks like a battery operated bobble-head. “Yeah, definitely! Let’s go!”

Beca nods once before taking a shot and refilling her cup as Emily follows her into the crowd.

-----

“Beca!” Amy is the first person she encounters.

Of course.

She is immediately picked up and twirled around by the blonde. “Where have you been? Oh my god! Have you gotten taller? No! That’s not possible!”

“Amy!” Beca kicks her legs and starts to protest the manhandling but she sees a flash of red hair as she’s being spun around and the words die on her lips.

She starts laughing because jesus christ. It’s been a long day and it feels like she’s been waiting to see that red hair for way too long now. She presses on Amy’s shoulders and frantically wrestles herself out of the tight grip, almost toppling them both over in the process. Amy strings together a few choice expletives and she can hear Stacie muttering something inappropriate but it doesn't stop her.

She bounces right up to her best friend with a smile so wide she thinks her head might explode. “Chlo!”

Chloe’s head whips around and when her eyes land on Beca, her face actually does explode into a display of pure joy. She reaches out and grabs Beca, hooking her arm firmly around the shorter woman’s shoulders to drag her in close.

Chloe's laugh echoes in Beca’s ear and Beca can’t stop her smile from growing impossibly wider as she wraps her arms around the redhead’s waist as best as she can and squeezes back. The scent of fresh laundry and liquor invades her senses and it’s all a little overwhelming but it feels good and she can't help but sink further into it. She lets her body sway back and forth with Chloe's as she breathes her in. Exhilaration and borderline manic happiness taking over in the moment.

“Beca!” Chloe pulls back but keeps her arm firmly around Beca’s shoulder. “Where did you come from!? Where have you been!?” Chloe’s mouth is wide open and the way her eyes are bubbling with excitement reminds Beca of a shaken soda bottle. The look is scary powerful and Beca can’t find it in herself to formulate a response so she just laughs like crazy and brings her cup up from around Chloe's waist to clink it to redhead’s before taking another sip.

Chloe’s eyes stay trained on her as she downs the drink and it makes Beca feel like a shot of Red Bull has been directly injected into her veins. It travels through her entire body with lightning speed and everything inside of her buzzes to life. She crushes the cup in her hand as she continues to drink, eventually cracking it. Remnants of the liquid leak down her arm but she keeps chugging. The atmosphere and the energy of the party has her head spinning and she just wants to let loose. Have fun.

She’s buying time too. Chloe’s presence is taking her to another level of excitement and she doesn’t know how to quite contain it at the moment. It feels like the cup is the only thing anchoring her to sanity at the moment.

“Beca!” Chloe swats the crushed cup straight out of Beca’s hand, the last few drops splashing out when it hits the ground and Beca’s eyes widen but she doesn’t move. Her arm stays frozen in the air, invisible cup still in hand. Mouth still open.

And Chloe smiles.

It’s that mischievous, self-satisfied smile. The same one she used after their shower duet so many years ago.

Beca won't forget that look. It makes her shiver but she smiles back, hand coming back down to squeeze Chloe around the middle again. "You're going to get into trouble tonight." Beca tuts, pretending to be put-off, "I can feel it."

Chloe nods enthusiastically, apparently thrilled by the notion, and moves both hands to Beca's shoulders. It brings the two of them face-to-face and she leans in to speak directly into Beca’s ear. "And you are already in trouble for getting here so late."

Beca’s chest tightens as Chloe pulls back to lock eyes but she keeps herself together. "Is that right?"

"Mhmm." Chloe is still nodding, all breezy happiness and cool confidence.

"Well," Beca shrugs, doing her best to appear nonchalant, "what are you gonna do about it?"

Chloe drapes her arms further around Beca’s shoulders, big blinking eyes boring into Beca, “I’m going to dance with you."

Beca’s hands involuntarily squeeze the redhead tighter, fingers eventually pressing into Chloe hard enough that she’s afraid she might leave a mark. She panics momentarily, not wanting to hurt her best friend, but then Chloe’s laugh cuts through the party noise and the redhead is dragging her through a crowd of people back towards familiar faces that instantly start shouting when they see the duo approaching.

“Beca!”

“Chloe!”

“Bloe!”

“What’s up bitches?!”

“Where were you guys!?”

Beca dodges Amy’s swinging arms as Chloe continues to pull her into the circle of Bellas but all of her ducking and dodging distracts her right into Stacie’s waiting hands.

“DJ!” Stacie shouts, squishing Beca’s cheeks and before Beca can react, Stacie starts moving in with puckered lips. There’s nothing Beca can do because one of her hands is still wrapped up in Chloe’s and the other is no match for Stacie’s strength so she braces for the onslaught coming her way, eyes shut and lips sucked in.

But it never comes.

Instead of sloppy Stacie kisses, Beca feels herself being pulled out of the taller woman’s grasp. She sees a flash of red and green and her favorite smile and she lets herself collide with the person reining her in. Hands squish her cheeks again but this time, she doesn’t even consider trying to fight them off. Instead, she wraps her arms around Chloe and returns the smile, letting everything around her disappear because Chloe leans in and peppers her face with kisses that match the beat of the song and the thump of her heart.

It makes Beca feel giddy.

Goofy.

Like she’s already had too much to drink but she knows that can’t be.

And really, in the moment, Beca honestly doesn't care what the reason is.

What the feeling is.

All she knows is that Chloe is here and everything feels perfect so she grabs on tighter and pulls Chloe in closer. Squeezing and laughing like a crazy person.

"You're insane! You know that, right?!" She's borderline shouting to be heard over the music.

Chloe pulls back just long enough to look directly at Beca. Eyes dancing and hands squeezing Beca's shoulders tightly. She mutters a quick, "mhmm" and leans in again, bright blue eyes crossing briefly as they come nose-to-nose.

It makes Beca chuckle.

"I know." Chloe mumbles the words and kisses the tip of Beca's nose.

Beca takes a deep breath and lets the tingling feeling take over as the beat drops and she falls into step with Chloe.

#bechloe #bechloe fanfic #bechloe fanfiction #pitch perfect fanfiction #pitch perfect fanfic #becha mitchell #chloe beale

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a-ackermann · 5 years ago

Note

Main 6 as affectionate cuddles. What would they coo while they hold mc? How tight? Is mc allowed out of their arms?

Now this,, this is the shit I like brother, thank you for your request dawg! I actually had loads of fun writing this

Asra:

- if it’s one of those days where you two are okay with being joined, you bet Faust is cuddling with you both! she’s probably right by your head, body totally curled up, and has her head on your shoulder

- considering its no secret they’re blatantly the romantic type, they whisper mounds of sweet nothings in your ear

- (just like the switch they are) they can switch between being the big and little spoon, although they prefer being the big spoon so you’re trapped in their strong embrace, but don’t worry, it’s a gentle squeeze, they wouldn’t ever hurt you

- things such as “How did I get so lucky to end up with such an angel?” and “I’ll never be able to comprehend that the love of my life is truly mine.” they’re kinda extra with it, but it’s all in the name of proclaiming their endless love for you

- they trail soft little kisses along your forehead, cheeks and nose if they’re able to reach, the tip of your ear, wherever they can reach they’re smoochin’ it up

- you aren’t allowed to leave their arms for hOUUUURS, unless you absolutely HAVE to (a meet up with someone, work, etc.), considering they’re naturally very touch starved and crave long, (schlongs) affectionate moments with the love of their life very frequently, they want you to be in arm’s reach for as long as possible

Nadia:

- much like Asra, she enjoys going all out with what she whispers to you, thinking carefully as to what she plans to say next. More often than not her words grow dirtier and dirtier every time she whispers something against your hair, but that’s a bullet for another time

- if you two are spooning she is always the big spoon, unless you’re taller than her, then that’s the only acceptional term

- she tells you how beautiful you are, and how you’ll always be the only one for her, how you’ve made her life so much better since you first came into it, and continue to praise you and comment every other sentence about how you’re a sight for sore eyes, etc.

- you aren’t leaving her grasp for anything, don’t even try to ask or wiggle away, her grip gets even tighter

Bonus, Devil! Nadia:

- if you’re okay with it and y’all are both horny, you bet she’s going to start muttering some dirty shit in your ear while she touches you in all the right places that you like, avoiding giving attention to the one place you need it most, and by god this woman doms you HARD that night WHEW, have fun lounging in bed and being pampered half to death by servants

Julian:

- just like the devs themselves said, he’s most of the time (I know majority of y’alls apprentices are short mfs don’t even try me there) physically the big spoon, but he’s emotionally a little spoon, so please, PLEASE, if your MC is tall enough (such as my 6′2 boy Luther) let him be the little spoon sometimes or all the time, it’s all he asks

- however when he is in fact, the big spoon, his noodle legs and arms are coiled around you so tightly, because he’s shamelessly in constant fear of losing you (again) someday, and he also doesn’t want to let you go, so

- Juju is one affectionate dude so although he’s probably the type to make sweet little comments while you two are out and about or through song form, he isn’t opposed to telling you how grateful he is that you’re in his life, and will go as far as to say he’s excited for the future of your relationship

- if you want out of his lanky limbs you better have a GOOD reason to want to leave, otherwise it’s an immediate sleepy “mmmmm five more minutes”

Portia:

- she is the little spoon she is the little spoon sHE IS THE LITTLE SPOON SHE IS THE LITTLE SPOOOOOON!!!

- unless you’re shorter than 5′1, or she’s in a mood for being the big spoon, that’s her only exceptions bc she’s small bottom lady who needs comfort after a long day of working at the palace

- she is probably giggling a little now and then, especially if you’re whispering sweet nothings in HER ear

- there’s no point in whispering if it’s not going directly into your ear so she’ll probably give you a five page essay on how much she loves you while stroking your arms around her beautiful self

- unless you absolutely have to go, or she herself needs to get up for one reason or another, she wants to lay there until you both fall asleep, and believe me, it’ll happen MAAAANY times

Muriel:

- unless you’re seven fucking feet tall he’s basically always the big spoon, unless you’re CLOSE in his height and have long ass fucking limbs because otherwise uhhh, good luck even attempting to be the big spoon lmao

- he’s not really used to the whole “whispering sweet nothings to your lover” deal but after a long time of being with you, giving him the opportunity to get more comfortable around none other than his lovely MC, he gives it a go, but it’s more like low grumbles about him being grateful that you love him and that you’re actually his, plus he’ll mumble an occasional “I love you” if he’s really soaking in the feels

- please tell him you love him back every now and then or let him know how you’re feeling because he doesn’t want to make you feel trapped or like you HAVE to stay there just because he wants you to

- dawg if you have to go he’s off you in half a second, but he himself is very hesitant to let go when he has to for his own purposes, the big guy wants his cuddles too once he gets used to your loving touches

Lucio:

- if you’re chill with it, Melchior and Mercedes ARE joining you both, no doubt about it, Squeezing in Lucio’s humungous fucking bed with you both (they try to smell ur asses too before passing out lol)

- however if it’s just you and guccio, he isn’t opposed to either position, both little or big spoon suit him well (we all know that, he may be a god at being a dom and topping the fuck out of his lover, he just needs to be pushed around to the point that he’s at your fucking service, so he secretly PREFERS being the little spoon but shh, don’t tell anyone or he’ll be embarrassed)

- he isn’t that great with being verbally affectionate so he’s more likely to describe your physical appearance in his perspective in ways that have you a blushing mess and hardly able to even form a sentence (interpret that how you’d like, who would I be to not slip in an opportunity for hinted nsfw?)

- he takes any sharp plates off his mechanical arm so he won’t hurt you or even risk hurting you, not his precious MC, no no no

- you’ll need to fight him in hand-to-hand combat before he lets you out of his grasp/lets you let go of him aside from using the restroom, if it’s matters he has the power to cancel/decline you access to attend you bet he’s ensuring you don’t leave

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luccislegs · 5 years ago

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Can I have a scenario where Luffy and his s/o are hanging out someplace and some guy starts flirting with and making his s/o uncomfortable so Luffy has to step in. Not because she’s weak or head jealous (though if you want that can be a factor jealous Luffy is my jam!) but she’s too nice to tell him to take a hike. Also; side note; keep up the amazing work I just found your blog today and I really love it so far! Glad to have another one piece blog for me to binge read!

i combined these two bc they asked for pretty much the same thing. in other news, i love jealous!anyone tbh but my favorite is absolutely when they do something to unintentionally make their partner jealous then they make it up to you, generally by blatantly expressing their affections. another trope i like but am kind of ashamed of is ‘established relationships’ with rival inserted so partner is jealous, bc it’s almost always a woman that is the rival and it just feels really…i dunno, misogynistic? like if i write it i turn it around to be a huge misunderstanding bc i don’t want tear downs, yk? i’m rambling anyway enjoy!

–

“Oh, excuse me,” you said, moving down the bar for the fourth time. You were patiently waiting on the bartender, who was currently swamped with requests. He had been polite enough to acknowledge you, and you were understanding, so you had settled down on a bar stool to wait.

That hadn’t lasted long, and you were soon set upon by a few different men. Each of them had been turned down, in as nice a way as you could muster, but one in particular had made you uncomfortable. His leer and the look in his eyes said he wasn’t going to be deterred so easily, and it proved true when he came back ten minutes later and sat down next to you.

You hopped down, pretending you were going to chase the bartender, only for him to skulk along after you. It wasn’t like he was trying to hide it, either, he was openly stalking you.

You were actually beginning to be afraid that he would follow you out of the bar and kidnap you. It wasn’t like you couldn’t handle yourself, but even he seemed a little out of your league. Your best hope was probably to get back to the safety of the group.

As you turned to the crowd, a hand wrapped around your wrist and tugged. You opened your mouth to scream, or yell, or curse, but then the smiling face of your captain was in yours.“Oh, thank god, Luffy,” you said, letting your head fall forward onto his shoulder.

He snickered and patted the back of your head. “We were getting worried since you were taking so long.”

“The bar is packed and service is slow, so I’m just stuck waiting,” you said, feeling overwhelmed with relief that he was here now.

But as quick as it came, it was snuffed out when Luffy nodded and turned back to the crowd. “Well then, I’ll leave you to it. Gotta let the others know!”

Typical of Luffy, when you really needed him to pay attention the most, he was running on one brain cell. By the skin of your teeth, you managed to snag the back of his shirt before he could be swallowed by the crowd.

“Luffy wait, please,” you said, and he turned then, his eyes a bit sharper as he picked up on the note of panic in your voice. His gaze snapped to the man hovering behind you, finally realizing just how close he was and that he may have been paying a bit too much attention to the two of you. “I don’t want to start a fight, please don’t flip out,” you said when you recognized the manic glint in his eyes.

“Sure, _____, so long as he stays back,” Luffy said, wrapping his arm tight around your shoulders and pulling you close to him. His stare was still fixed on the man by the bar, who was now watching with open contempt but made no attempt to instigate.

“Thank you, Luffy,” you said, giving him a relieved side hug. The tension was almost palpable, but after a few minutes the man sidled off, throwing glares over his shoulder at the two of you. Robin and Sanji came to look for you at one point, but were quick to leave once they saw the crowded bar.

It took another fifteen minutes before you finally got your order, which Luffy was happy to point out in a whiny tone, but that was thrown to the wind in the face of all the food that now sat in front of him. The rest of the night, Luffy never let you go to the bar alone, and the whole crew was almost falling over by the time you left to go back to the ship.

This would have been funny if you hadn’t been feeling like someone was following you the whole time. More than once, you turned around to scope out behind you because, though your crew mates were being loud, in the lulls where they quieted down you were sure you heard muttering and footsteps. Hurrying to catch up to the others, you tugged on Zoro’s sleeve.

Before you could say a word, he was already nodding. “I know they’re back there.”

That was all you needed to hear, and you nodded before you moved off to Luffy’s side. You should probably have told him about it, since he was probably the only one unaware of your shadows, but he would try to pick a fight right there in the alleyway. It was more prudent to wait until you were in a more open area, plus Zoro knew what he was doing. Maybe not where he was going, but other than that you trusted him.

You linked your fingers with Luffy’s, and he grinned down at you, swinging your arm enthusiastically while he whistled. The shuffling behind you grew more obvious, coming closer and they were starting to sound aggressive.In another few steps, the alley opened out onto the port leading down to the docks, and they decided to make their move.

“You, Strawhat! I have a bone to pick with you.” As you had suspected, it was the man from the bar, and he had friends. You had thought that Luffy’s presence had scared him off, but he appeared to have kept drinking, and that had given him a dangerous amount of courage.

Luffy turned around and looked, releasing your hand in the process. “Hey, you’re that stalker from the bar! What are you doing here?” He stepped in front of you, shielding you as if the man was going to steal you from a distance.

There was a rattle of swords, and Zoro started to step forward, but Luffy’s hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Leave him to me. He was harrassing _____ at the bar, and now he’s followed her all the way to the ship, so I’m gonna kick his ass.”

Zoro’s eyes widened but he smirked and stepped down, nodding his head in acknowledgment.

“This’ll only take a moment,” Luffy said darkly, rolling his shoulder.‘A moment’ turned out to be five minutes, and all of the rival crew members were laid out unconscious all along the sidewalk. “Now you better leave my _____ alone now, or I’ll kick your ass harder next time!” Luffy yelled at them before he jumped down to join you next to the ship.

“Jeez, Luffy,” Zoro said, staring at you with a mischievous smirk, “I didn’t know you could get so jealous.”

Luffy puffed his chest out and huffed, wrapping his arms tight around you as he said, “Yeah. Anyone tries to take _____ from me and I’ll whoop their asses! She’s mine!”

Coming from anyone else, that statement would have made your skin crawl but from Luffy, it was a comfort. “Thanks, captain.”

He grinned, rubbing his face all over yours before he stopped with his nose against yours. You could feel heat rising to your cheeks the longer he stared without blinking, until finally you felt his lips against yours.

“You’re so cute when you blush, _____,” he said when he pulled away. “Let’s go to bed, I’m tired.”

–

god i still don’t know if i like the direction this went, plus i’ve been putting a lot of energy into my fics so it’s taking attention from these. i hope you still like it, though!

#one piece scenarios #monkey d. luffy #monkey d. luffy x reader

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draculaurennn · 4 years ago

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PRERELATIONSHIP -Liona General – Cullida Love – McJunk Domestic Life - Fuujiro

S— SHIP QUESTIONS @silverblighted

PRE-RELATIONSHIP — Liona .

How did they first meet? Siona was locked in a crumbling temple under the deserts sands and best girl Nova found her! And then Link and Gan cornered them like 10 minutes after they escaped.

What was their first impression of each other? For like 5 min Link thought she was actually tricking them that she wasn’t an evil mage, and then she passed out, and he was like “ok maybe not.” Siona’s first impression was like 2 hours later when she woke back up and she thought he was really nice!

Did any of their friends or family want them to get together? Link’s fam really did not! But Siona’s only family is Nova and she did.

Who felt romantic feelings first? Uhhhh... I think technically Siona did, but only because she thought meeting a prince like that is really romantic and was probably just projecting that ideal on him a little bit. But either way they’re both idiots smitten within 24 hours so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Did either of them try to resist their feelings? Siona does, a few times. She does because she has to go home, she does because she thinks she has to return to the Twilight Realm alone, and she does because she doesn’t think the way her story is playing out that she’ll be allowed to stay with Link. I think Link probably did for like one week and then decided it’s not worth it to try resisting people you care deeply about.

If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think? asdfghjhgfd this one’s so hard UHHHHHH i think Link would think that’s pretty fuckin swell and makes sense if it goes hand in hand with finding a lost princess in the desert, and i think Siona would say that’s not a thing but she’d be super jazzed bc she’s an idiot romantic too.

GENERAL — Cullida .

Who initiated the relationship, and how did it go? It’d ultimately be left up to Cullen, I think. I think Cressida wouldn’t have been afraid to tell him she was waiting on him to tell her when he was ready, but I don’t think she would have ever pushed it after that. So it was probably Cullen, and it was probably right after her dumb ass almost died after Haven. Went great, though, even if she was groggy and turned around. Cressida would have probably told him it was about time LOL

Did they have an official first date? If so, what was it like? As official as you can get when you’re in the Inquisition, I guess. I don’t even know if they count things as dates? Just nice outings with each other away from their jobs and duties. More than likely it was a nice trip to a lake to sit and chat and have a picnic and not worry about busy places and other people.

What was their first kiss like? Their technical first kiss is in the alternate reality nightmare with Dorian, and Cressida tried kissing a red lyrium-corrupted Cullen to get through to him. For her, that was a first, but it was awful, and not even in their reality, so it doesnt really count. Their actual first kiss was in Haven right before she ran off to help Vesta, bc I think they were both pretty sure they were just doing to die there LOL.

Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)? Cressida is Cullen’s first-pretty-much-everything. I guess technically Cullen is Cressida’s first (and only) husband, which she’s pretty glad about.

What’s their height difference? Age difference? Cullen’s about a foot taller than Cressida, and nine years her senior.

What’s their relationship with each other’s families? Cressida’s family is... almost totally horrible. Her dad is dead, so no relation for Cullen there, and her mother is a monster of a woman who abused the hell out of her sister. Vesta is awkward with Cullen but I think she’s grown to like him over time. (Not enough to tell him, but enough to be supportive I think LOL). They’re cordial enough and can be in a room alone, even if they don’t talk a lot. Cullen’s family is so many sisters and a brother, and they all love Cressida. Cressida was panicked to meet them; she doesn’t panic meeting anyone, but she was really worried they wouldn’t like her bc she doesn’t think she, as a genuine person, is a likable person. She was also worried they’d think she was too pompous and shallow because she just doesn’t do field work. But they really like her bc she’s earnest and forthright and tries, even if she’s awful at menial field tasks. And they joke she’s too pretty for Cullen, so that’s always a plus.

Who takes the lead in social situations? Cressida. Hands down. It’s what she’s good at, it’s what she lives for, and it probably annoys some people that she has to open her mouth, but she commands a situation very well and in her mind, that’s how it should be. Cullen’s p fine w that though bc he doesn’t love social situations and he’d rather do his own job and be left alone.

Who gets jealous easier? Uhhh, probably Cullen. Cress doesn’t make that easy for him bc she’s flirty and commanding and winds people around her fingers to get her way. I think there’s been a few times early on where he wasn’t even sure she genuinely liked him or not bc she can pay fake attention and admiration so convincingly even to people she doesn’t like. Cressida’s also... like, so obnoxiously confident in her own outward personality but also so incredibly convinced by how much Cullen loves her (once she knows) that I don’t think she ever worries about him vying after someone else. (Although, she did get pretty upset and tilted with the Warden Surana hanging around since she knows about that LMAO.)

LOVE — McJunk .

Who said “I love you” first? Jesse. He said it a few times. Jun-ki’s kinda mean, though; I’m pretty sure she told him no he doesn’t a few times? Idk, he’s too nice for this bitch.

What are their primary love languages? Jesse’s is pet names and touch both. He’s not really shy so he can express it in a lot of ways. Jun’s is small gestures, like sitting with someone while they’re struggling. I guess her other one is also literally fighting people for him even tho he definitely probably did not ask LOL.

How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA? All the time. All the fucking time. Their coworkers hate them. Think April and Andy, and then multiply. (And Jun literally would spit her gum in this man’s mouth just to annoy other people.)

What are their favorite things to do together? They do... so much together uhhhh sdfghj idk, I know Jun likes doing most things with Jesse around now. Movie nights, pizza dates, annoying PDA, drinking games, weird places to fuck... they’re a little inseparable. I think the only thing Jun doesn’t like to do with Jesse around is upgrade sessions with Angela because she doesn’t want to be seen all broken up, and training segments because she doesn’t want to be responsible for him getting hurt.

Who’s better at comforting the other? Jesse. Jun’s never been good at it. He says what he thinks she needs to hear without impressing on her a bunch of psychology she never said she had. He’s just good at offering her something to relate to and a shoulder to lean on. Jun’s not very good with words, though, so she’s not very good at or sure how to offer comfort when someone needs it, especially Jesse. But she just says she’ll hang around and if they fight about it she just says to shut up and deal with it. He’s usually better once he vents.

Who’s more protective? BIG DEBATABLE. I think it’s pretty... even. I think either of them will fight as hard as they can for the other, though I think Jun may be the only one more likely to throw herself into actual harm’s way, and that’s just because she’s definitely the more reckless of the two.

Do they prefer verbal or physical affection? Jesse’s a more verbal person but I think physical affection and affirmation is where they’ve connected. No one has to say anything, he just does, but it’s just the cherry to the rest of it and physical communication and affection is more than enough for both of them.

What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise? THERE”S A WHOLE BUNCH ON THE SPOTIFY LET ME TELL UUUUU BUT THE BEST ARE OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD “Something About Us” by Daft Punk “Amphetamine” by MNQN and also I could add matchbox 20 but i’m not tryna get roasted

What kind of nicknames do they call each other? Yikes. Uhhhhh, Jesse’s partial to: darlin’, sweetie, sweet pea, sweet bean, juniper berry, junnie b jones, jun-bug, and the list goes onnn. Jun’s partial to cowboy and (affectionately) dumbass.

DOMESTIC LIFE — Fuujiro .

If they get married, who proposes? Probably Shinjiro, and it was probably something stupid and weird at the grocery store.

What’s the wedding like? Who attends? Small, probably at a park or something, but all of their friends. They don’t have a lot, but that’s what makes it nice. I think they’d be more interested in spending money on travelling afterwards than trying to make a big deal out of a celebration.

How many kids do they have, if any? What are they like? I don’t think they have any kids. I don’t think Fuu has any interest in bringing a kid into the world bc of the shit she’s gone through on her end; there’s no innate part of her that thinks she needs to have a kid to raise them better just to make up for how alone and neglected she was as a child. If they wound up with any kids, it’d probably be some circumstantial adoption of a wayward orphan they kept coming, honestly? A mentorship or personal attachment just kind of developing, really. Like Denzel LMAO. That’s the only thing I could see happening really asdfgh.

Do they have any pets? THEY HAVE KOROMARU. Otherwise, I think they just put food and shelter boxes out for their neighbourhood cats. Shinjiro probably lets them in a lot.

Who’s the stricter parent? Shinjiro, hands down. He was the stricter parent when he was a teenager. Fuu is/ would be the parent who is also being scolded.

Who kills the bugs in the house? Shinjiro kills them and Fuu takes them outside. Shinjiro just doesn’t think bugs belong in the house, and Fuu thinks killing them is bad luck. If he kills them before she gets to take them outside, they probably “fight” about it, but it’s not a divisive convo that’ll sour the day.

How do they celebrate holidays? Shinjiro’s not really a holiday person and Fuu’s really busy, but I know she thinks they’re worth doing. So everything’s probably pretty quiet and half-decourated for. Holidays with events to go to that they don’t have to prepare for, like festivals, Fuu definitely nags to attend. Things like Christmas, I think they just plan on nice dinners and quiet evenings.

Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning? Ooh, uhhhhh asdfg that’s hard. Probably Shinjiro? I don’t think he tries often, but he is the one more likely to sleep late. I guess it’d be circumstantial, in a lot of ways. Like if he wasn’t sleeping a lot lately, Fuu would sleep late to try and keep him around. If Fuu’s overworking, Shinjiro would try to bait her back. But otherwise, it’s probably Shinjiro, since she’s usually up early because she wants to run early.

Who’s the better cook? Shinjiro, hands down. Fuu’s okay at it; if she has to make dinner, she’s happy to do it and it’d be fine food, it just wouldn’t be anything exciting or special. She understands basic seasoning laws and how to use a rice cooker. Shinjiro’s the one who’s anal-retentive about produce quality, technique, prepwork, etc. He’s the one who literally watches home cooking network and considers buying a separate pasta cooker, after all. It’s one of the few things he’s really passionate about, and he’s always emphasized how important a good meal and diet are to health with the idiots he hangs around.

#teethoc #silverblighted #fuujiro #mcjunk #cullida #liona #siona #Jun-Ki #cressida levoie #fuu maeda

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