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lizthewriter · 3 months

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get him back! / theodore nott

PAIRING theodore nott x fem!reader

SUMMARY after playboy mattheo riddle dumps you for another girl, your best friend motivates you to get the best revenge - be the girl he would always want, but could never have. you take things to the extreme when theodore nott offers you a deal you can't say no to.

TAGS theodore nott x fem!reader, past!mattheo riddle x fem!reader, modern!au, university!au, ginny is your best friend, fake dating, college parties, gluna / linny, part 2?

QUOTE "yeah i pour my little heart out, / but as i'm hitting send, / i picture all the faces of my dissappointed friends, / because everyone knew all of the shit that he'd do, / he said i was the only girl but that just wasn't the truth," - get him back! by olivia rodrigo

WORD COUNT 2.2K

WRITTEN 12.15.2023

hey, mattheo, how are you? i know it's been a while but i thought i'd -

No. What the hell are you doing? You hold the backspace, watching as the words you had just typed out disappeared. This was ridiculous - you couldn't keep doing this. Ginny would be so dissappointed in you. He had cheated on you, multiple times. He had spent all his time flirting with other girls. He lied to you and then his apologies were just fancy, elaborate gifts soaked in wealth and champagne. How could you still want him, need him, so viscerally?

"What are you doing?" You threw your phone over to your bed and turned around to face Ginny with a sickeningly-sweet grin.

"What? Nothing," you responded innocently. She narrowed her eyes at you in suspicion and made her way over to your bed, picking up your phone and glancing at the screen. You had forgotten to turn it off. Shit.

"Oh come on, seriously? Riddle? That douchebag?" She asked incredulously, sending you one of her famous looks of dissappointment. You got up and snatched your phone from her hand, only to crash on your bed.

"I know, I know," you responded with whine. "And I hate him too . . . but I miss him." You snatched one of your pillows and planted your face into it. The muffled scream was still louder than it ought to be, making Ginny cringe, but still rather satisfying. You let out a huff of breath. "I don't know what to do. I want to punch him in the face but at the same time . . . I want to kiss his stupid fucking face. That piece of shit."

You stared at his picture and let out a sigh. He was so damn complicated.

Ginny snatched your phone from you yet again. "All right, here's what we're going to do. We're going to come up with a plan to make Mattheo Riddle the most jealous man on the planet and in the process, find you someone new and much better. All right?"

You groaned. The thought of it sounded exhausted, but even you had to admit that there was a certain appeal to showing up at some party he was at, dressed to the nines, and bringing home another guy all while he watched. You sat up and stared at Ginny, before hesitantly saying, ". . . Go on."

"I know darling it's upsetting, darling, but . . . you're just not my kind of girl."

The words rang out in your head as you stood before a large mansion belonging to one of the many wealthy students at your campus. Cars were parked around the enormous driveway and the music from inside was booming so loudly that your could feel your bones vibrate with the beat.

Ginny slipped her arm through yours and flashed you one of her adventurous smiles. "Cheer up - you're going to be the prettiest girl they ever did see," Ginny said mockingly, pinching your cheeks. You barked out a laugh, playfully shoving her arm away.

"You sound like some posh grandma."

"But I'm your posh grandma," Ginny responded with a pout as you two began to climb the stone steps to the completely open front door. (I mean, seriously, who leaves the door to their house open? It's like they're asking to be robbed.)

The music steadily became louder upon approach, making it almost impossible to hear your own voice as you entered. The sleek wooden floors were bathed in a variety of disco lights, an odd contrast in comparison to the lovely home that looked like it belonged to some stuffy old Oxford professor.

"Hello ladies," said a jubilant man leaning against the doorframe leading to the foyer. He looked Ginny up and down before pushing himself off the wall and approaching Ginny. "Lovely to see you again." He sent a wink Ginny's way, which she responded to with a playful roll of her eyes. You finally recognized him - he was a sports major, friends with some of her older brothers. Lee, you remembered his name was. He was a flirt - he had tried with you once, when you were with Mattheo. It didn't end so well for him.

"I'm glad to see your nose is doing better, Jordan," you spoked with a friendly smile.

He pinched it and then looked down at his hand. "Good as new, I suppose, but there's still a scar on my heart," he claimed dramatically, walking wistfully away with the expression of a lovelorn, heartbroken lead in a Victorian drama. You and Ginny giggled and delved further into the lion's den. Numerous people greeted you, but especially Ginny (she had always been the popular one). A paticular boy, Harry, had his eye on her for quite some time. You wouldn't be one to say he was unattractive - he was fairly pretty. He was a Criminal Justice major and a pretty nice guy from your understanding. But you knew Ginny wasn't interested.

When Ginny stopped walking, you did too, as your arms were intertwined. You followed her line of sight and smirked at what - well, who - she was staring at. A wistfully odd girl with pale blonde hair down to her waist and an odd sort of dress adorning her body. People gave her odd looks, whispering to their friends. Why is she here? No one likes her.

You nudged Ginny multiple times to grab her attention once more. "Hey, you can go on without me. I'll be fine."

"What? No! I'm not abandoning you, you're my best friend and -"

"Go," you insisted. "I promise, I'll be fine."

She looked rather torn, glancing between the two of you before stomping her feet and letting out a groan. "I hate you," she whined.

"I hate you too," you responded with a grin. You turned her around, your hands on her shoulders, and pushed in her in the general direction of one eccentric Luna Lovegood. "Now go! Don't worry about me, we've been planning this for days!"

"Good luck!" She shouted at you before she disappeared into the sea of people. A few moments later, after much difficultly trying to see her, you saw her chatting up the girl. All right, my turn, you thought.

You scoured the room - you wouldn't say you were the most introverted person in the world, but you definitely weren't the most outgoing either. You needed to find someone who would really pull at Mattheo's nerves, make those prominent veins pop out of his head. You wanted him to feel the anger and the pain that you felt. You wanted to get him back!

There was no one on the bottom floor that caught your eye, so you climbed the stairs to where the more . . . elegant students were. (Rich, more like.)

They weren't anymore sophisticated than the people downstairs, but there was still that air of refinement that made you feel slightly out of place. You wandered around the many rooms for a bit before you found a kitchen (they had one upstairs and downstairs?) Grabbing a drink, you wandered around some more, making friendly conversations with some of your peers. As you were talking with Neville, a very kind boy from one of your general education courses, someone in paticular caught your eye and everything clicked.

Theodore Nott. He was the son to a rather rich Italian man, the CEO of one of the most well-known designer shoe brands in Europe. His mother died rather unfortunately of illness at a young age. He's been very prominent, especially in recent years. He's been a model for his father's company, he was in the top 5% of your class, and he's - well - he's known as the most handsome boy in your year.

You definitely weren't going to deny that - he was drop-dead gorgeous. His eyes were so . . . alluring. Dark and sexy, a pool of emotions shrouded by mystery. Okay, so maybe you were going far too overboard with your description of him, but for the love of God, was he attractive.

Somehow, he could feel your gaze upon him. He had been sitting on a couch, telling a story to a tight-knit group of friends, Mattheo included you noticed, that you had taken your eyes off of him. You felt embarrassed, pretended to look around the room, and then turned your attention back towards Neville with an encouraging smile that pretended that you had been listening to him rant all along.

"Excuse me," you heard Nott say, standing up from the couch. The champagne flute in his hand was rather empty so you deduced that he was probably going to go fill it. An educated guess, but an incorrect one. He did something you never expected. He approached you.

"Longbottom, I hear Greengrass has a question about a Geo-sci class you two share. She seemed rather distressed by it. I'm sure she'd appreciate your help," Theo told Neville - you glanced at Daphne Greengrass. She looked nowhere near distressed, but Neville perked up in excitement.

"R-really?" He asked nervously, wringing his hands. He gave you a sheepish smile. "Talk to you later, I've got to go help Daphne."

"Yeah, see you later Nev," you replied. Nott looked down at you for a moment before raising his glass.

"It seems we're both in need of a refill. Care to join me?" His expression was nothing more than emotionless, except perhaps the tiniest smirk that remained upon those rose-dusted lips. You shrugged nonchalantly, only just noticing the vacancy in your glass.

"Sure, why not?"

You followed a quite Theodore Nott to the kitchen again, where he poured himself champagne from a very specialized fridge unit filled with distinguished bottles of liquor - merlot and pinot noir and all those fancy alcohols you would have assumed people like him drank. He silently offered you some by tipping the bottle towards you. You offered him your glass, which he poured a fair amount in, not too much, not too little. Just right.

"I'm suprised to see you here."

You arched a brow in response as he took a light sip from the flute resting in a delicate balance between his two fingers. Precariously, a smile dained your face. "And why is that?"

"Your Riddle's ex-girl, aren't you?"

He asked in such a way that seemed as though he didn't care much at all.

The smile from your face disappeared, replaced by something much more bitter. You shrugged, but the action was much more passive-agressive than you had intended it to be. "So what? Does that mean something to you?"

He placed the flute down, the glass clinking against the marble countertop. "Riddle and I have a . . . complicated relationship."

"You mean, your dear old daddies are both relevant, rival shoe designers?" You said it so innocently. Nott smirked at you.

"Yeah, something like that. Listen," he leaned in close to you, leaning his arms against the counter in an attempt to lower himself to your level. He was rather lanky and tall, which you supposed was good for a model, but hard for when you want to actually talk to him. "You and I both want something from him."

"And what's that, Nott?" You asked with mock curiosity, placing your chin in the palm of your hands with a tilt of your head.

"Well, let's just say you didn't come here tonight, dressed like that, in the hopes that he would fuck you," he responded, quite bluntly. Well, you supposed that sort of honesty was an inherited trait. "Everyone knows what went down between you two - he aired out your dirty laundry for all to see. No, you came back here to get revenge."

"Astute," you said with a tone of disdain. Taking a sip of your champagne, you found that it actually had a much more delightful taste than any other alcohol you had. You smacked down the glass on the countertop. "Really, Nott, thanks for that." You began to leave but Theo grabbed you by the arm.

"Wait! Just . . . listen," he said, panting slightly. His brows were scrunchdd together in frustration - he seemed genuinely distressed. The only reason you stayed was because you realized something rather odd.

You turned towards him with furrowed brows. "Is Theodore Nott . . . desperate for something?" You asked with a disbelieving scoff. At the sight of his jaw clenching, his eyes avoiding yours, you let out a shocked laugh.

"Shut it," he muttered, sending you a dark glare.

"Now that's certainly out of character," you said, slugging off his iron grip. "All right, you've got my attention. What is it?"

"My father's been trying to score one over Riddle for years. Rumor is Mattheo's father wants him to marry a good woman, someone that won't tarnish his son's so-called good reputation. And well, you . . . slipped through his fingers like sand. Stealing him from you would make my father more . . . proud."

You crinkled up your nose. "You're not proposing to me, are you? Cause the answer is no."

"No, no. I'm just asking you to date me, at least for a bit."

The sound of it seemed ridiculous, but then you thought - you were both getting something out of it. It was nothing more than a partnership, and a good one at that. Either way, you'd be pulling one over Mattheo and that would be good enough for you.

"How much is 'for a bit'?"

"Everyone." Theo had walked back into the room, you snuggled comfortably into his arms. He had tapped a fork against his glass, gathering the attention of his friends. Mattheo's jaw dropped, the hand swung around some girl you had seen around slithering it's way back to his side. "I want to introduce you to my girlfriend."

That's right, you smug snake. I win.

part two coming soon . . . <3

#theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theo nott x you #theo nott x reader #my writing #fanfiction #— [ glizzy posts ☆ ]#my fanfiction #my fic #writing #fanfic #harry potter #slytherin boys

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sttm99 · 4 months

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Bakugo understands that he spends a lot of money on you for just being his personal assistant. But he can't help it.

You honestly deserve it. You're smart, responsible, diligent. You're a hard worker with principles, and your work ethic is something he respects.

It didn't matter how many people were against him promoting you from secretary to PA so soon in your career. Your work was top notch, and you kept him organised.

Sure, you were pretty as well, a sight for sore eyes, really. But that wasn't his fault, was it? It wasn't your fault either.

It's not like you came into work every day with full glam, diamond earrings, or elaborate hairstyles.

It had pissed him off at first, when people demeaned you or underestimated your work because of your looks, especially when he knew you worked so hard so you wouldn't be considered some dumb corporate bimbo.

But now? Now he loved it. He loved when he had clients over, and they'd do a double take when he sent for you to take notes or deliver documents to his table.

He'd noticed the modesty with which you'd dressed when you first started working for him, how you tried to dim yourself with drab colours that obviously washed you out, or plain hairstyles.

Not like it stopped anybody from being able to tell how pretty you were.

But after, when you'd started garnering his attention and racking up more bonuses from your diligence, he began noticing you wearing nicer things.

Of course, you had to up your wardrobe once you were promoted to the role of Personal Assistant to one of the biggest heroes in Japan. But that wasn't it.

Bakugo loved seeing you walk in with a new shirt or new shoes or new earrings after he'd rewarded you a bonus or a pay increase. There was a sort of high he got, knowing that you took care of yourself with the money he gave you.

Oh, he spoilt you rotten.

Month end rewards became the norm for you. He just closed a hefty advertising deal? Best believe you were getting a cut out of that. He was given a bottle of champagne as a gift? You're drinking it with him in his office.

Sure, it may have seemed a bit inappropriate to some people; him locking the doors and closing the windows, and having you sit on his lap prettily whilst he poured it out into a flute for you.

Sure, it was inappropriate for him to have his hands up your skirt as you recounted the month end figures for him, but you were comfortable that way. He was, too. Oh, so comfortable with your hands inside his trousers and his teasing at the lining of your panties.

He was just taking care of his best employee.

And maybe he did spend a lot of money on you, but you had to keep up appearances. He needed you looking your best when you were next to him.

It wasn't his fault you were so beautiful that brands reached out to him to get you to model for then after seeing you appear in some pictures by his side.

It wasn't his fault that he couldn't get anyone else to come with him to the Hero Gala. Besides, you're meant to be with him during these things to take notes for him. So having you as his date was basically killing two birds with one stone.

"Your assistant's fucking sexy," Kaminari whispered into Bakugo's ear, both of them watching you go to order a drink for your boss.

Bakugo smirked to himself, his eyes raking over your body, clad in the tight fitting dress he'd bought for you to wear. He'd also bought the earrings you had on, and the shoes and the necklace. Sure, it cost him quite a lot, but he just couldn't help it when you looked so good.

"She's single, isn't she?"

Now, that had him snapping his head in Kaminari's direction. "Don't even fucking think about."

Kaminari whined, "But why? She's your assistant, not your sister or your girlfriend."

"She's my assistant," Bakugo seethed, standing up from his seat. "She's my employee, and I won't have you lowering her efficiency." He murmured as he made his way to where you were.

You smiled brightly as you turned around to see him, handing him the second glass of champagne in your hands. "You look like you'd rather be somewhere else." You laughed softly.

He grinned down at you before downing the drink quickly. "I would," he said before dropping his glass back on the bar. "Come on."

He spoilt you rotten, but he couldn't help it. You looked so beautiful in your tight dress and pretty hair and beautiful face.

Sure, being seated on the sink and having your legs spread before his lips in the bathroom at the Hero Gala may have been a tad inappropriate, but how could he stop himself?

You were quivering for him, thighs pressing down and shaking on either side of his head, and your fingers gripping harshly at his hair, pulling him even closer as you rutted your heat against his lips.

He let out a desperate groan, burying his face deeper into your cunt, eating you out shamelessly, hungrily.

"Fuuck..." He growled into you.

You'd been so shy the first time he had his way with you, refusing to touch him, grind on him, behaving so meek and cute.

Now look at you, so selfish and desperate, almost suffocating him as he feasted. He spoilt you rotten, sure, but you deserved every morsel of it.

"Katsuki..." You whined desperately, your back arching off the mirror, the hand not pulling at his hair tightly gripping the edge of the counter. "Katsuki, I'm so close... I'm so fucking close, baby-"

His hands dug into the flesh of your ass, pulling your harsher into him, your clit pressing against his nose as his tongue made a meal of you. He was always so desperate for it, digging the wet muscle so far into your pussy you saw stars.

And he was messy too, his saliva and your arousal staying your thighs, dripping from the marble counter unto the ground as he ate from you.

Anyone who came in after would probably be able to tell from the smell of the bathroom alone. The cum leaking unto the floor would only solidify it.

But the thought of someone finding out that your boss had his face buried deep in your pussy wasn't exactly what you were thinking about when you came for him, hard and rough, your hips shaking and raising off the counter as you rode out your high.

"We shouldn't be doing such during events, sir." You whispered to him as you both walked down the corridors back into the hall where the gala was being held.

He had his large palm over your ass, groping you just in the dark of the hallway, letting go just as you stepped into the crowded hall.

"Just be a good girl and wait for me to fuck you on the way home, hm?" He smirked at you, a small sheen still visible on his lips.

He never cleaned his mouth properly after eating you out during such events. It was inappropriate, sure, but he just couldn't help himself.

#bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katuski x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #mha bakugou #bakugo smut

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nerdpoe · 2 months

Note

3 Fanon ideas to make a prompt from :)

1). Ectoplasm is Lazarus Water but purified

2). Ghosts can retreat to their cores

3). Protocore Jason AU

Danny has to retreat into his core, Jason somehow finds him and absorbs it. It looks like Jason is pregnant as his own ecto is being purified and then given to Danny's Core.

Enjoy:)

This is a full prompt, though? Okay I'll write mpreg. Gonna bypass that "looks" and make it an "is" though, throwin in some reincarnation and trans Jay.

~~~~~~

Jason was doing one last round before he left for Gotham. Before he left to prove a point. To teach Bruce a lesson he'd never forget.

He wasn't sentimental, no, he was just checking to make sure he wasn't forgetting any sickass weapons that may have fallen behind a dresser or something.

"Todd," a small, imperious voice demanded from behind him. "Observe my new pet rock."

Jason sighed and stood up to humor the little demon.

The kid was holding a weird glowing, cracked orb. It was radiating frost, and Damian had to use cloth between his hands and the magic stone.

"Damian," Jason started, keeping his voice level. "Where did you get that?"

The kid sniffed with all the superiority of a spoiled brat, looking proud and holding the obviously enchanted stone higher.

"Since Grandfather and Mother say that animals as pets would be a weakness, I decided to search the lesser treasure room for a suitable inanimate pet."

Jason sucked in air through his teeth in a soft hiss. There was no "lesser" treasure room; there was the "safe" treasure and the "unknown" treasure. Where was Talia when he needed her?

"Look, kid, I don't think-" Jason started, reaching for the weird rock, just as Damian started pulling away.

"-You are jealous that I have this rock and you do not-"

"-Damian, please, just hand over the fucking-"

"-Cease your attempted theft this instant-"

"-Damian come here you little shit-"

Jason tripped. Damian tripped. The weird rock went into the air...and landed on Jason's chest. It melted into him with a sharp flash of pain.

And that was that.

Damian stared at Jason's stomach, aghast.

"You stole my rock!"

By the time Talia arrived to see what was keeping Jason so long, he and Damian were rolling on the ground biting each other.

~~~~~~

Months later, Jason was beyond ready to murder the newest Robin. He'd originally planned to just beat the shit out of the kid, but he'd been having a rough time.

He was losing his carefully crafted abs.

He was getting soft.

Normally that was whatever, but he was trying to be intimidating, and being soft in any way was definitely going to trigger the dysphoria he thought he'd outrun.

It made no sense; he worked out daily, had started eating on a caloric deficit, drank nothing but water, and made sure what he ate was home-cooked.

Then, one month before go-time with Timmy, he'd started getting nauseous.

He felt bloated, tired, hungry, and most of all; pissed.

As he stalked through the Tower that the newest Robin was hiding in, he may have, perhaps, let the millions of small annoyances pile into one big rage filled pity party with a kid as the target.

It really didn't help that he hadn't been able to don his replica of his own Robin costume, because he...he had pudge. He didn't fit in it.

It was infuriating.

He knew it wasn't little TimTams fault, but he was gonna take his rage out on someone, and the kid was the unfortunate closest person he had beef with.

Was he overreacting? Probably.

But it was lash out or cry, and he refused to cry.

On top of everything, the one thing that had helped with any of the symptoms, the extra purified Lazarus Water that Talia had given him to 'act as an emergency first aide', was gone. He'd drank it all.

With that supply out, he was.

Well.

He was going to kill little Timmy, fuck the consequences.

But little Timmy was...doing a very good job of staying completely out of sight. The kid had been acting far more neurotic than he normally did, only letting out a small gasp when he'd seen Red Hood and immediately darted into some sort of weird hidey hole.

Jason hadn't been able to find him since.

The kid had added his own gopher network to the Tower, fuck.

The speaker system crackled on, just as Jason was about to start laying down bombs.

"Red Hood, please consider your condition. Do not do anything that would raise your blood pressure, or uh..." the newest Robin's voice trailed off, keyboard audibly clacking as he looked something up. "...Or eat peas? No, that can't be right. Whatever, look, just stay calm, take a breather, and don't overstress yourself. It's not good for the uh. The second...yeah. Not good. Do not do. Why am I so dumb sounding when it comes to things like this? Shoulda gotten Steph..."

The kids voice trailed off as he berated himself, but Jason was too busy fighting off the horribly dawning realization of what the kid was saying.

Which couldn't be true, because there was no way for the kid to know, and Jason hadn't had sex in...well. Years.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Jason gasped, thanking his past self for putting the vocoder in his helmet. It sounded far more threatening.

"Oh. Uh. During one of your fights with Batman, you got glanced by something sharp, and there was a little blood. Don't worry though! I didn't tell Batman! I just wanted to see if I could figure it out on my own! So I ran your blood and now I...know. That was actually probably like, really invasive. Sorry Jason."

Jason knew the fight the little Bird was talking about. He'd had a random wave of vertigo, barely dodged a batarang. He'd had to do his own stitches afterwards.

"...You know? Know what?"

"Okay, I should clarify. I didn't tell Batman, but I kinda needed help scrubbing everything, so I had to ask Oracle to help, so she knows, and she couldn't keep it from Nightwing, because he's felt super guilty about how he treated you, but Batman definitely does not know."

Jason sat down on the nearest chair, feeling like the wind had been ripped from his sails. He took the helmet off and dropped in on the ground in favor of running a hand through his hair.

"How can you be sure B doesn't know it's me?" He rasped, staring at nothing.

"Because can you imagine he'd leave you alone for a second if he knew you were alive, much less up the duff?"

Jason had nothing to say to that. Either Ra's had been up to some fucked up experiments while he'd been asleep, or he was the victim of miraculous conception.

The newest Robin was rambling over the speakers, but Jason ignored him and held his head in his hands. The glowing orb flashed through his mind, and Jason didn't even have the energy to curse Damian for doing stupid kid shit.

He was just thankful that the kid hadn't been a viable host.

"Tim, shut up. Do you have an ultrasound machine here?" Jason interrupted, steeling himself. He was an adult sort of, one year before it was technically true, and he could freak out later.

It was time to do adult things.

"Oh, uh, yeah. Why? Has your gyno not done one yet?"

"Don't have one, didn't know. Where is it?"

"...I probably should have broken that news to you like, way softer."

~~~~~~

Jason was...pulling back. His criminal empire was still growing strong, and he was making a shit ton of money from it, but he was pulling back from actively provoking Batman.

As much as he wanted B to be the one to kill the Joker, he knew that the older man probably wouldn't do that, and Jason wasn't going to risk getting anywhere near that maniac while he was pregnant.

Batman had certainly noticed the change in behavior, but whenever he tried to intrude into Crime Alley, Nightwing or Robin would intercept him.

Jason.

Jason wasn't sure what he wanted to do about Bruce.

Dick was slowly earning forgiveness for his pas actions, piece by piece. Tim was surprisingly good at being supportive, and Jason's hatred for him was starting to wear away to the realization that this was just a kid.

Oracle, whoever she was, had apparently designed the best security system in the world and quietly renovated an apartment into a safehouse, just for him.

He hated the charity, but it was better than what he could make at the moment with how many enemies he'd gained.

As the months passed by, he found himself hiding away in the gifted apartment more and more.

The dysphoria was...bad.

There were no more mirrors in the apartment.

The kid, which the ultrasound confirmed they were, was a small one, thank fuck. His belly had popped out, true to most pregnancies, but it was relatively contained.

It was still enough to make a horrible sense of wrongness almost knock him off his feet every time he looked down.

He was, essentially, useless.

If it wasn't for the trio of well-meaning extended family (maybe? he had his suspicions about Oracle), he probably would have just laid down on the floor of his apartment and not gotten up.

Tim, surprisingly, had adopted some stupid Alvin Draper alias and was running his crime network in his stead. He was doing a concerningly good job, actually, and Jason and Dick had exchanged more than one worried glance over the kid's head.

Dick had moved in, citing that Bruce was getting suspicious and it was easier to pretend that he'd moved back to Gotham than it was to continually make up excuses. In reality, he was making sure Jason didn't lay down and rot, keeping him active and healthy.

Jason was...trying. He was trying. But between needing to stop HRT and the changes and his fucking voice and just. Everything. All of it.

He hated it.

But he still wasn't sure what he wanted to do with the kid.

Dick and Tim had set up a nursery, just in case. Dick had also surreptitiously reached out to the Kents, also just in case. There was no judgement. If he decided to keep the kid or give it away, it would be well taken care of.

That should have been a weight off his shoulders.

But instead, he felt like he was getting worse.

He was so, so fucking tired. He was starving but he couldn't stomach the food Dickwing put in front of him. He had worked so hard to build his criminal empire, but when Tim tried to tell him about it he couldn't focus long enough understand what was being said. He knew that they were getting more and more concerned, and when he woke up one morning and vomited straight Lazarus Water, Tim snapped.

"I'm calling B."

"Tim, no, we can-"

"-No, Dick, we need to figure out what's going on! This isn't something Leslie can handle, we need Bruce!"

Maybe it was just something buried deep inside Jason, but he agreed. He wanted his dad, not a doctor. He didn't care about Tim's reasoning, he just. He agreed. He wanted Bruce.

"Do it," Jason rasped from the floor, leaning into the cold tile. "Get B."

~~~~~~

Jason was still on the bathroom floor when a set of far, far heavier footsteps paused at the doorway.

The wood from the doorframe creaked as whoever it was tightened their grip on it.

Their breathing stuttered. They swallowed.

The footsteps continued, and they knelt next to Jason, wordlessly running their fingers through his hair.

"Hey Jaylad," Bruce whispered, voice tight and controlled even as his hand shook. "Looks like you've got a bit of a situation. Wanna tell me what happened?"

"Got knocked up by a magic rock," Jason muttered, thoroughly enjoying the hand in his hair. "But it ain't going right, and I'm tired and hungry all the time, and I'm throwing up the Lazarus Pits."

"The magic rock info is new," he heard Tim mutter from the hall, right before he was forcibly shushed by Dick.

"Did you have any weird cravings? Any symptoms that don't normally match a pregnancy?" Bruce asked, keeping his voice calm and controlled even as he lifted Jason from the floor and into his lap. "Should I get Constantine on the phone?"

Jason let it happen, turning to hide his face from the shitshow that had been his life for the past six months and shoving it into Bruce's stupid fancy shirt.

"Had Lazarus water. Drank it. I'm hungry but I can't eat anything. I can hear the kid chirp sometimes."

"Like a bird? That's adora-"

"-Shut up Dick not now!"

"You shut up!"

"You...drank. Lazarus Water." Bruce repeated, voice stilted as he clearly started working through something in his head. "I....hm. Okay. I'm...I'm going to call Constantine." Jason couldn't help the snort at the clear distaste in Bruce's voice as he said that.

He expected Bruce to put him down and go get changed into his Batman kit.

He did not expect Bruce to adjust his hold, lean back onto the cabinets, and make the call then and there.

~~~~~~

Constantine was officially unofficially his doctor for the duration of his pregnancy.

That was not something that anyone wanted, Bruce especially.

Jason wanted to throw up and aim it at the Hellblazer, but he had a feeling the man had been covered in worse and would, at best, be unfazed.

At worst, tempted to just smear it on Jason to prove a point.

The Mage of the hour himself was hovering over Jason, eyes unfocused as his glowing hands rested on the despised baby bump.

Jason was laying on the couch, trying not to let the sound of Bruce's pacing drive him up a wall.

"That," Constantine started, head tilting as if he was listening to something. "That is a core. And a baby. And another core. Two Ghost Cores, two bodies. If you're meetin' the needs of the physical, and you're still havin' issues, prolly need to see to the spritual, love."

"Don't call him love," Bruce warned, pausing his pacing long enough to glare at the Mage.

Constantine didn't bother to acknowledge him.

"Don't suppose you've got any spare Lazarus Water lying around, eh?" The man asked instead, eyes refocusing as he removed his hands from Jason's person.

Jason shook his head, but Tim nodded his.

Everyone stared at Tim.

Tim shrugged.

"What? It's under the city. Not like anyone will miss it if we take some."

"How. Tim, how do you know that?" Dick asked, sounding a little scared.

"Because I found it? I tried throwing dead rats in it but it doesn't work on rats, so I tried larger dead animals that had gotten down there-"

"-B you've raised Dr. Frankenstein," Jason groaned, covering his eyes from the realities of a mad scientist little brother.

"But I'm not an undead being stitched together?" Tim asked.

"You uncultured swine," Jason snarled, practically throwing himself into a sitting position and was quickly met with Constantine trying to wrangle him back down. "It's common fucking knowledge that Frankenstein was the doctor, not the monster, and if you paid any attention in English class-"

"-I'm gonna go get Lazarus Water okay bye!" Tim shouted, bolting for the door.

~~~~~~

Jason drank his fifth juice pack of Lazarus Water, finally starting to feel like himself again, and stared at Bruce.

Bruce, to his credit, was clearly trying very hard not to stare back.

Jason imagined this was rather hard, given that he couldn't stop fucking purring. Apparently, that was a Thing that his body could and would do, according to his unofficial doctor.

Dick and Tim were helping Constantine put the Lazarus Water into the juice packets, all of them desperately pretending that they weren't there at all and trying to be as quiet as possible.

"So, Hellblazer. Nothing to say about the Big Bad Batman?" Jason asked, eyes never leaving said man.

"Not particularly any of my business, mate. I don't really care one way or another."

Bruce actually looked a little put out at that, much to Jason's satisfaction.

"I imagine you have questions," Jason sighed, finishing off his juice pack.

Bruce finally turned to look at him head on, gaze steady.

"They can wait. Do you have any plans for...this?" Bruce didn't motion towards Jason's stomach, but he didn't have to.

"...Maybe. I don't even really know what this is." Jason muttered, sinking further into his chair.

"I told you, love, it's a baby. With a ghost core. It was probably an adult ghost, at one point, but if it was cracked near as bad as you say, it was either reincarnate or disappear." Constantine shrugged, taping another stupid tiny straw to another juice box and moving to repeat the action. "Either way, since it's reincarnation, the baby ain't gonna know tit from tat. 'S just a baby."

That. Damn. If he'd been faced with the same choice, he probably would have done the same thing.

"You keep saying that. What does a ghost core do when it's in a human?" Bruce asked, knuckles white on the couch's armrest.

"Dunno, haven't seen it before. Heard of it, though. Just makes the person powerful, but now sure how much. Flight is definitely gonna be there, though, so I'd ask supes for some pointers." Constantine answered without really answering, true to form for him.

Jason heaved himself up and waved everyone off as they started to get to their own feet to help him. "I'm gonna take a nap. Snipe at each other in here and don't fucking bother me."

~~~~~~

Jason was disgusting.

Alfred and Bruce and everyone else assured him he wasn't, but he absolutely was.

It was so bad he'd gone ahead and, without informing anybody, arranged for an induced labor at Gotham General as soon as he could.

He didn't want to deal with Dick getting scared and frantic, or Tim overplanning and having a mental breakdown, or Bruce's rigid shoulders as he both tried to apologize and do something stupid like take over from the actual doctor.

Alfred would probably be composed, but if Alfred acted a little off then they'd know.

Hell, Jason had started getting some Braxdon hicks contractions and he swore he watched Bruce's hair grey in real time.

So at the eight and a half month mark, Jason lied to everyone and told them he was going to another safehouse to get away from their coddling.

He ignored their objections and reached for the keys to his car-

-and pissed himself.

Or, it felt like he did.

The apartment went dead silent as everyone looked down.

Then the contractions really hit.

~~~~~~

Bruce actually did try to take over the maternity ward and do the doctors jobs.

Jason was delighted to have an excuse to kick him out.

He couldn't force the man to avenge his murder, but he could make him wait in the waiting room like the rest of the peasants.

Alfred he allowed to stay, though.

~~~~~~

Jason still hadn't decided what to do with the kid.

He didn't know if he was gonna send them off to a farm or if he was gonna keep them.

So he let himself hold them, to see if any of the disgust he'd felt during the pregnancy had been directed at the kid or if it was all just him hating how he looked.

The little bean of a child, eyes bluer than his own, proceeded to free one arm to pull on Jason's bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.

Ah.

Nah, the hatred had been towards how he looked.

This one was his, the Kents could get visitation rights.

881 notes · View notes

eddie-van-munson · 3 months

Text

The Princess Bride (Farmhand!Eddie Munson x Princess!Reader)

***********

Warnings: Mentions of Blood (Nothing Graphic), Kissing, One Subtle Allusion to Smut, Childhood Best Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn...I think that's it?

Summary: You've been best friends with the stable boy since childhood, but when a suitor comes from across the sea to ask for your hand in marriage, you're forced to finally confront your feelings for him.

A/N: I hope y'all like this! I've had this in my drafts for literally over a year, but people seemed interested when I asked, so here it is! Please, Please, Please leave a comment! It will keep me writing!

Six Years Old

Your earliest memory of him was from the stream.

His head was a mess of wild brown curls, so thick they nearly covered his eyes, and his pants had been rolled up past his knees. You'd been sitting in the gardens, ignoring your tutor's endless lesson on etiquette, when you spotted him through the clearing. He wobbled as he waded further, jumping forward suddenly as he tried to catch a fish with his hands. You had to hide your giggle with a polite cough, lest you be scolded.

The boy heard you, though. He stared at you as you obediently walked along the bank behind a man with a large nose.

You made eye contact with him, and as soon as he noticed he'd won your attention, it became a game. Suddenly, he was pulling funny faces and splashing around the creek like a giant. He held your gaze all the while, flashing you a two-front-toothless grin when you finally fell into a fit of giggles.

You'd had to recite forty lines that afternoon because of him, but it was well worth it to share a laugh as he mucked about in the water.

***********

Six Years Old

The next time you saw the boy, you'd fallen ill with fever. It'd been a few months since the stream, and you almost didn't recognize him as he plopped a bundle of healing herbs down on your bedside table.

"You don't look like a Princess." He crossed his arms before him as he eyed you suspiciously. "You're awfully pale…And you're not even wearing a crown or a dress or anything."

"I'm sick, you knob." You frowned, "No one wears a crown to bed."

He hummed, sticking up his nose. "I thought Princesses had to be grown-ups."

"I'll be queen when I'm a grown up." You announced, bossily. "And you'll have to do everything I say, or I'll send you to jail."

He scoffed, "Not if I'm the King! The Queen has to do what the King says!"

You rolled your eyes, "Well, you can't be King."

"Yes, I can! Haven't you ever read King Arthur?" He pointed, brows raising. "I just have to find an enchanted sword and pull it out of a stone. Then I'll be the King, and I'll send you to jail."

Your cheeks went pink as you argued, "King Arthur isn't even real!"

"Yes, he is! And I'll be just like him! King Edward the First!" You giggled, and the boy flipped around from where he'd started strutting around the room, proudly. "What?"

"Edward is a funny name."

As wildly offended as the boy was by this comment, he had to hide the smile that crept to his face at the sound of your hoarse laughter. "It is not!"

"Yes, it is! Who's ever heard of a King called Ed? King Eddie!" You held your stomach, falling into another fit of giggles.

He turned from you indignantly, "Fine! Stay here all alone with your smelly herbs, then! I don't need any silly ole' princess!"

"No!" You croaked, sitting up in bed. "Don't go. It's so boring up here. I can hardly stand it."

He sighed, putting a hand on his hip, and thought for a moment. "Only because you'll have me beheaded if I don't."

***********

Ten Years Old

"Oh goodness…You've gotten mud on your dress!"

Your mother fussed over the little blue dress you were wearing, kneeling beside you to get a better look at the damage. Splotches of brown had been smeared over your front. Even your hair had a few streaks of dirt.

"I got in a mud fight with Eddie." You informed her, as if the mess was perfectly justified by this.

She chuckled, "I see. It looks like he may have won this time, hm?" She gave your cheek a gentle pinch, making your nose scrunch.

"No, he didn't!" You turned, pointing at your friend. He dragged his feet behind you, looking defeated.

Your mother burst into pretty laughter at the sight of him, resting a hand on her stomach. "Oh lamb…come here."

The poor boy was absolutely caked in dirt. Not an inch of him was left unscathed. His wild curls were sopping with heavy mud, and you couldn't even see the embarrassed flush on his pouty face. He looked like he'd rolled around in the pig pen.

The queen tutted affectionately, smirking. "Oh what am I going to do with you two?"

***********

Thirteen Years Old

"Do you think he'll be alright?" Tears welled in your eyes as you sat in the windowsill in your room, watching Eddie as he walked quietly by himself in the distant fields, below. "I don't like seeing him cry."

"He'll be alright, love." Your mother cooed, taking a seat beside you. "I know it's hard to see him in pain, but the poor dear's lost his mother. It might take some time for him to feel like himself again."

You sniffled, holding your knees. The words trembled when you spoke again. "He'll be sent away, won't he? He won't be allowed to stay at the palace anymore."

The Queen frowned, stroking your hair. "Why do you say that?"

"His mother worked in the laundry. That's why he's lived here so long. Without her, he-" You trailed off, voice cracking as you gave a soft sob.

"Oh, silly girl." She chuckled softly as she dried your tears. "You think we'd throw Eddie out all on his own?"

Your brow furrowed, confused.

"Eddie's a strong boy, sweetheart. He works very hard in the stables and takes good care of the horses. He holds his own…and even if he didn't, he's family. We'd never send him away."

Your whole demeanor relaxed, "You really mean it?"

Your mother smiled, "Of course."

Still, your eyes didn't leave him. You sighed, "He's so sad...He's sad and I don't know how to fix it.

"I wish we could fix it for him, darling, but that's not how these things work. You can't take away that hurt. You just have to let him feel it." She straightened her dress as she stood, giving your hand a loving squeeze. "But that doesn't mean he couldn't use a friend."

***********

Fourteen Years Old

"I didn't know Princesses were allowed to climb trees." Eddie's grin was stained sweet and red, his legs crossed over a branch lazily as you plucked another strawberry from the bushel you'd collected that morning.

Your etiquette teachers would be appalled if they could see you now, wearing little more than a chemise in the summer heat as you straddled a thick tree branch. Your feet were bare and dirty where they hung in the breeze. You smirked, "They are if nobody sees them."

Eddie laughed, and it was such a clear sweet sound that you wished you could keep it tucked inside a locket. You sighed, longing to freeze time and keep things just the way they were forever.

You relaxed against a branch, "I've got my whole life to do what royalty is supposed to do. I've got to do fun things while I can still get away with it."

Eddie chuckled, "Maybe I'm a bad influence on you, after all.

You frowned, "Did someone say that to you?"

He shrugged, unbothered. "The maids whisper it. They say a young lady shouldn't be left alone with a young man." He put on his best 'prim' voice, making you giggle. "I'm a threat to your innocence!"

You held your stomach, laughing. "A threat to my innocence? That's horrible!"

He grinned, "You're telling me!"

The breeze rustled the leaves in the tree as you lounged, breathing in the sweet summer air.

Eddie had strawberry juice on his lips. For the first time, the tiny, ant-sized thought of kissing it away crawled into your brain. You squished the ant.

A bad influence, indeed.

***********

Fifteen Years Old

"Tag!"

Eddie sprang up from the corner of the barn, sprinting after you as you ran off into the fields.

You lost him quickly, cutting down and into the gardens. The morning dew was cool as the grass tickled your bare feet, and you nearly slipped as you ran over the stone path. A gloved hand grabbed your elbow to steady you. You turned to see a member of the palace guard; his brows furrowed. "There you are, Princess. Your Mother-"

It all happened so quickly. Eddie ran through the bushes, a playful grin tugging his lips, and grabbed you from behind, "I've got you!" He yelled, drowning out your giggles.

Before you realized what was happening, the guard ripped you from his hold, tossing you aside. Eddie was thrown onto the stone path, his temple hitting hard against the tile. Distantly, he heard you shriek. His vision was fuzzy and starry when he felt the weight of the guard pin him down, a drawn sword shoved against his throat. "You shall not touch her!”

"Stop! Stop it!' You grabbed the guard's arm, But he threw you back down. Eddie choked your name.

"Stay back!" The guard barked at you, pressing harder against the blade. Eddie could feel blood trickling from his head. He was trembling, eyes closed tight. Still, the guard yelled in his face, “Who are you? Hands by your side!”

"He's my friend!" You screamed hoarsely.

"Get off of him this instant!"

You'd never been so happy to hear your mother's voice in your life. The guard dropped his sword at the sight of her rushing towards him. Immediately, his face drained pale as a ghost. "Y-Your majesty!"

"Get off of the boy, for god sakes, he's a child! Get off!" The man clambered off of Eddie as your mother knelt beside him, fussing over him dotingly, "Oh sweetheart, your head…You're shaking like a leaf…"

He blinked hard, trying to clear his vision. The queen turned to the guard as you pitifully crawled over to your friend, pushing his curls back off of his forehead. "I'm sorry I'm sorry-"

The guard searched for an explanation, "Your majesty, I thought the boy was-"

"I know what you thought!" She snapped, sternly. She was well aware of the whispers surrounding yours and Eddie's friendship. Your mother's lips were pursed, cheeks red. You'd never seen her like that before in your life. "It gave you no right to hold a weapon to that child's throat!"

"Your highness, I-"

Your mother ignored the guard, turning back to you. "Help me get him inside." You nodded obediently as she squeezed Eddie's shaking hand, "I'll send for a doctor to check your head, darling."

Eddie nodded, dizzily.

You sat with him later that night when the doctor had gone and his head had cleared. The mark on his forehead would scar, no doubt, but it had been well tended, and any concussion he suffered was minor. This knowledge, of course, did nothing to soothe his nasty headache.

"You're not a very good sport, you know." He groaned as you took his hand, smirking. "Siccing the palace guards on me just because I tagged you?" He tutted, "What a sore loser."

***********

Sixteen Years Old

"You have to tell!" You ran after Eddie as he hauled a sack of oats through the gardens to the stable.

He ignored you, holding his nose high. "No, I don't. I don't have to tell you everything just because you're a princess."

You crossed your arms, "You have to tell me because I'm your best friend, you knob. Best friends don't keep secrets!"

"Sure, they do. You mean to tell me you've never kept a secret from me?"

You groaned, "That's different! You have to tell me if you fancy someone!"

Eddie sighed, turning to face you, and dropped the sack of oats. "Why do you want to know so bad?"

You blushed, stammering. "I…I want to help you confess your love!"

Eddie laughed, "What a lie! You just want to tease me!"

"Oh, Come on!" You pouted, putting your hands on his shoulders. If you tell me who it is, I'll tell you a secret, too."

"Tempting." He sighed, picking up the sack again and throwing it over his shoulder. "But no."

***********

Eighteen Years Old

"You've got to keep it down…"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes as he guided you towards the stables. "Why?"

He laughed, "If I told you why, then it wouldn't be a surprise."

He smirked when you groaned, reaching for the latch on the barn door. “You know I don't like surpris-..."

You went silent as he led you inside slowly, revealing a soft colored mare, and below her, her newborn foal.

"Oh!" You gasped, a smile creeping to your face. You stepped forward, wanting to approach the baby, but Eddie took your arm, gently pulling you back.

"You've got to be careful...the mare's protective of her. I nearly got kicked in the teeth this morning." He chuckled, enjoying the amazement in your eyes as you watched the mother and baby interact.

"She's beautiful." You mumbled, grinning.

Eddie couldn't help but smile, "She's strong too..." He paused, breath fanning your neck as he spoke just loud enough for you to hear. "She'll make a good riding horse, one day."

You met his brown eyed gaze, biting your lip shyly as he nudged your arm with his elbow.

You could feel him admiring you.

You liked it.

***********

Nineteen Years Old

"Oh, Eddie. He was horrible…You wouldn't have been able to stop laughing!"

Eddie clutched his stomach, laying back against the grass as he toyed with a wildflower. "That's because it's funny!"

Your fingers fumbled with the ends of your hair, untangling the intricate hairstyle it's been tied up in. "It's not so funny when it's you!"

Eddie grinned, looking starry eyed, "It really just fell off of his head?"

"During dinner!" You exclaimed. Eddie fell into another fit of laughter. "Right onto his plate in front of everyone!"

Your friend sighed, wiping his happy tears as he sat up to gather a handful of clovers. "I can't believe he wore an honest to God wig. The poor lamb."

You laughed at his faux sympathy, watching his hands as he wove together stems.

He looked so different from the little boy you'd befriended as a child. His wild curls had grown just past his shoulders now, his bangs often covering the scar on his temple. His arms and back were beautiful, muscles sloping gently beneath his skin, and while he was a hint more bronze than he had been as a boy, his freckles remained. His nose and his dimples had never changed in the slightest, and those big brown eyes reassured you that no matter how much Eddie had grown up, he'd always be that silly little boy, deep down. He'd always be your Eddie.

"But what's the verdict?" He chuckled, "You never said. Is he the one?"

You groaned, "You're mocking my pain."

"I am not!" He fought a smirk. "I didn't want to assume. Maybe he was a wonderful conversationalist."

You giggled, yawning. "I wouldn't know. I didn't catch a word he said after his hair went into his soup.

Eddie gave you a fond smile, laying on his elbow beside you, "Here you are, princess. A crown."

Your heart felt oddly achey as he draped a handmade crown of wildflowers over your head. You smiled, affection in your eyes.

Your throat was tight when you spoke, "You're better than any prince, Eddie Munson."

His cheeks flushed faintly. "Well, I don't know about that…" He tapped your nose playfully. "Most princes don't smell like a barn."

***********

Twenty Years Old

"Eddie, darling!" Your mother had called to him as he cut through the gardens back to the stable. His brows raised when he turned to find the Queen accompanied by you and the King. A man Eddie had never seen before held your arm, an unreadable expression on your face. Eddie bristled.

"Your Majesties." Eddie nodded his head politely as the group approached, his muscles stiff with wariness.

Your father gave a proud smile, gesturing to the stranger on your arm. "Son, let us Introduce you to Prince Carver the Fourth: Heir to the Throne of Hawkins."

"An honor to meet you, Your Highness." Again, Eddie bowed his head. He'd never seen someone that looked so stiff. The two of you would have fun joking about it, later.

Prince Carver was older than you, and by the looks of him, he'd never been outside a day in his life. Every last one of his blonde hairs had been tediously placed, as if he'd been sculpted out of clay, and his boots were perfectly polished black leather. The blonde eyed Eddie with disdain, crinkling his nose at the sight of his work clothes. "Yes, I'm sure."

Eddie fought an eye roll. Another suitor, he assumed. The Royals were only being polite by offering him a tour, seeing as he'd travelled so far only to be rejected.

The Queen stepped towards him, glancing at the prince. "Eddie has become a very dear friend to our daughter, Prince Carver. Perhaps he would make a nice addition to your staff. He's served us so well in our stables."

Confusion was visible in Eddie's face. An addition to his staff? What was going on? He looked to you for help, but your eyes were cast down into the grass.

Prince Carver cleared his throat, "Unfortunately, we aren't lacking any farmhands at the moment, but you need not worry about the princess, your highness. She'll find much companionship in Hawkins, once we are wed."

Eddie felt his blood go cold. Absolutely frigid.

Once we are wed. Once we are wed. Once we are wed.

His mouth opened to say something, but he couldn't find a single word. He was desperate to look you in the eyes, but his gaze was only met by a small shimmer on your left hand. An engagement ring.

"Please excuse me, Your Majesties."

****

Eddie hadn't cried like this since his mother died.

He hadn't felt the blow of such terrible loss since he'd been orphaned.

He sat alone in the barn on a stool, tears rolling down his cheeks as he gently stroked his fingers through the mane of the foal he'd surprised you with two years ago.

It was a pretty horse…full grown now and patterned with soft brown spots across her back. You'd named her "Sweetheart" after hearing Eddie call her that.

Come're, Sweetheart.

Here you go, Sweetheart.

Good job, Sweetheart…That's it.

Pain shot through his chest at the realization that the horse would probably get to go with you to your new home.

But not Eddie. Eddie would be left behind.

He clenched his jaw, eyes burning as he buried his fists in his curls and tugged. He was angry. He couldn't help but feel angry. It wasn't fair. His whole heart was being shipped off to God knows where, and there wasn't a word he could say about it.

It wasn't your fault. You were a princess. Your hand in marriage was a pawn in a game of political chess. It had been since the beginning. Both of you knew this. You always had. So why weren't the two of you happy that this inevitable union was one that would lead the country to thrive?

Eddie took a deep breath, relaxing his hands from his hair and rubbing tears from his face.

You'd daydreamed with Eddie before. Lots of times. It was always the same thing.

I wish we could just run off and live in the woods, Eds. Just you and me. We could build a little cottage beside a stream. That way, we could swim in the summertime. You could finally teach me to fish, too.

Is that what he'd been expecting? Had he hoped, deep down, that he'd somehow end up in that cottage after all, spending summer days with you by a stream?

Maybe. Or maybe he'd just wanted you.

He'd dreamt up hundreds of different futures for himself. There were countless paths he'd wandered down curiously in his head, over the years. Some were outlandish and fantastic…some were more modest. As much as they varied from day to day, he was realizing now that his hopes for the future had always held something in common.

He'd always had you.

****

The next week seemed never ending.

Eddie didn't see you once. You were avoiding him. That much was obvious.

Before the proposal, you made a habit of visiting Sweetheart at least once every day. You liked to brush her as you talked with Eddie, twisting braids into her coarse hair. She was spoiled rotten, no doubt, but that didn't leave the horse feeling any less deprived of attention with the sudden loss of your quality time. She'd gotten fussy over the week, whinnying and pacing in her stall. She'd even started kicking again, when she was feeling particularly agitated.

Still, you made no appearance at the stable. Eddie was surprised, however, to look over the gate one evening to find Prince Carver walking swiftly through the grass.

"Your highness." Eddie nodded, spotting the green apple in the man's hand. "Have you come to feed the horses?"

"Certainly not." Carver scoffed, "I've come on behalf of the Princess. I find it inappropriate for her, as a lady, to be spending time in the stables.

I've reassured her that I'll take it upon myself to fulfill any required visits with Sugarplum."

Eddie frowned, " Forgive me Your Highness, but I think you might be thinking of Sweetheart."

The man scoffed, slapping the apple down in Eddie's hand before storming off.

"Whatever the damned thing's name is."

Eddie swallowed hard, calling after him. "Would you like me to show you how to feed her, Prince Carver?"

The man laughed cruelly, "Heavens no. That's your job, is it not?"

**********

"What on earth are you-! Edward Munson!" You gasped, immediately dipping over the stone ledge of your window to reach for him. He laughed, flashing you a boyish grin as he took your hand, pulling himself up and over the sill.

Christ, you'll crack your skull one day!" You muttered, the both of you giving way to the effort and falling to the floor with a thump.

"For the present my skull remains intact." He reassured, giving a faux bow of his head.

You snorted, plucking dead leaves and briars from his thick dark curls. "What on earth put it in your head to climb all the way-"

Eddie caught your hand, his eyes landing on your engagement ring. His thumb brushed over its stone as your heart sank into your belly.

"Oh."

Eddie studied the ring for a moment, taking in its details. There was a long silence. Finally, you spoke.

"It's a dreadfully heavy thing." You pulled it off, placing it on your bedside table. "It catches on my gown, anyways."

A knowing smile crept to Eddie's lips. He sat in the silence for a moment before reaching into his pocket.

A small wooden ring was produced, painted delicately along the band with tiny white flowers. He slipped it onto your marriage finger. "How's that one?"

You were breathless. "It..it's..."

It was perfect. It was the most beautiful ring you'd ever seen, though you couldn't find the words to say so.

Eddie's thumb brushes over the flowers, "I carved that for you when we were sixteen."

Tears welled in your eyes.

"I had it in my mind to propose to you then. The gardener stopped me when he discovered my plan." He gave a sad chuckle. A comfortable silence hung between you. Eddie took your hand, humming. "Would you have said yes?"

"Eddie..." A tear rolled down your cheek, only to be brushed away carefully by his ever-gentle hand. You gave a sad laugh, your thumb stroking over his wrist. "You're not being fair."

"Maybe not." He whispered, "But any man should be damned if he saw you and didn't want to keep you."

"It's cruel." Your voice wavered with emotion. "You know I've loved you since we were children...nothing can be done about it, Eddie."

"Nothing can be done about it?" Eddie gave a humorless laugh, "You're going to be Queen. Everything can be done about it."

"What would you have me do?" Your brow furrowed. "Tell my father to end our alliance with Hawkins?"

"Yes! Hawkins only seeks to use us for our resources. Forest Hills is better off without their partnership."

You swallowed thickly. The cicadas sang their response from the Glenside below. Again, Eddie wiped your tears.

"Love is not something to be kept only for common folk. Your father will understand that. So will your kingdom."

Something in you crumbled under his gaze. You drew closer, letting him envelope you in his arms. He held you for a long time, stroking your back, sweetly.

"I spoke to your mother." He cooed, pressing a soft kiss to your hair. Your head tilted back; eyes wide as you stared up at him.

"Did you?"

"Yes." His eyes were so warm and brown. You had admired them many times before this, but never quite so closely before. "I knew I was to ask for your hand...I couldn’t very well ask for your father's blessing, so I felt your mother's would be just as valuable. To us, at least."

You smiled, your forehead resting against his. "What did she say?"

Eddie chuckled at the memory, "She pinched my cheek red. I wish you could've seen it. She cried and held my hand...told me she'd always known I would ask her one day."

You gave a watery laugh, your fingers lacing tightly with his.

"She said she didn’t know if it was possible for me to make you mine, but that nothing would make her happier."

There was a long silence. Eddie cradled your face, "Do you feel the same, little Princess?" Your pretty eyes fluttered at his whisper. "Do you love me the way I love you?"

"How could you even ask?"

Eddie chuckled, "Because I've done nothing but profess my feelings for you tonight, and now I'd like to hear you do the same."

You chuckled, your smile fading with thought.

"I knew...I knew I loved you about five summers ago." Eddie smiled fondly, his cheeks going pink. "We practically lived outside then...the world seemed so bright and warm and I didn't realize then that it was all because of you." You reached up, carding her fingers through his messy hair. "The sun turned your curls golden on the edges-"

Before you could finish your sentence, he was kissing you. He was soft and warm and strong, holding you close as you melted for one another. Eddie laughed, breathless, when you parted. "I'm afraid I win, then. I've loved you far longer than that."

You laughed brightly as he kissed you again, working his way down your jaw to the column of your throat. "When?" You breathed, whimpering as he nipped at the crook of your neck.

"It's hard to say." He moaned softly as you coaxed him back up to your lips, your hands lacing in his hair. "All I know is that I've never loved you more than I do right now."

Another tear rolled down his love's cheek. He kissed it away.

"But why these tears, now? Am I really that terrible?"

You gave a watery laugh. "No. Not at all I...I just..." You gave a little sob. "I want to marry you. I want to be your bride and keep you always, but I can't-"

"Marry me, then. Right now."

You frowned, tucking a strand of his curls behind his ear. "What?"

Eddie thumbed your ring as he caught your hand. "Do we not have a ring? A gown?" He swallows thickly, eyes darting between your night clothes and the mattress beside you. "A marriage bed?"

Slowly, You stood, guiding Eddie to stand before you. "We...we have to make a vow"

"What kind of vow? I've never been to a wedding."

You stared up at him, eyes brimming with love. "S-Something about.... For richer and for poorer. Through sickness and in health. From each sun to each moon."

"May I write my own?"

A tear rolled down your cheek as you nodded.

He looked down at your hands, so soft and perfect in his rough ones. "I wish I could tell you that as my wife, you will want for nothing. I wish I could make you flowery promises about how you won't have a care in the world...but since I can't make you those promises, I'll make you the ones I can."

He knelt before you, gazing up into your eyes.

"I promise to you that no matter how hot the summer's day, I'll always climb to the highest branches to find you perfect, sun-spotted apples."

You giggled, a grin splitting your cheeks.

"I promise to let you spoil your horse as badly as you wish. Never again will I deprive her of a single sugar cube."

Another giggle. Eddie kissed your knuckles.

"I promise to kiss you...often and abundantly...until you can't bear to kiss me even once more."

Eddie grinned at your blush.

"I can't build you castles, but I promise you a home. I promise you food to eat and sturdy walls to keep you warm. I promise you children to nurse and adore."

Eddie paused, heart fluttering.

"And I promise you love. The same love for you that I've held long since before I even knew what I was feeling."

His voice wavers.

"I promise that at the end of our lives, I will still feel it."

Eddie clasped your hand with his, "So, Princess. If you'll have me...then with this ring, I thee wed."

You repeated his words, falling to your knees to embrace him. Eddie caught you in his arms as he stood, peppering kisses to your nose, then your cheeks, and finally, your lips.

His thumb brushed your new ring, gently. "I can't tell you how it feels to see you wearing it." He gave a watery laugh. "It's been sitting on my nightstand for four years now."

"I wish I could wear it always..."

"Why can't you?" He pulled back to meet your eyes.

Your expression sunk, "I'm afraid I'm still scheduled to be wed tomorrow morning."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous." He hummed. "You think I'd allow another man to marry my wife?"

"Eddie..." He scooped you up, laying you gently upon your mattress before sitting beside you. "Promise me you won't do anything stupid tomorrow."

He chuckled as you combed through his curls with your fingers. "When have I ever been known to do stupid things?"

"I mean it. You remember what happened the last time someone thought you were a threat to my innocence. It would kill me to see you hurt." Your fingertips grazed the scar on his temple, stiffening at the memory of his head hitting stone.

There was a long silence as Eddie gazed at the ring. He kissed each of your fingertips slowly. "Do you trust me?"

"More than anything."

Eddie smiled at this, holding your hand to his heart, "Then don't worry."

You gave a hesitant smile. Eddie cradled your body against his, gently combing through your hair.

"We must leave tonight." He whispered. "Disappear into the woods. If we rode as far as we could on Sweetheart, it would be nearly impossible for them to find us by the time morning came. It would be difficult, but we'd be free."

Immediately, you tensed. "Eddie, no. He could have you killed if they found us."

"Then you'd better hold me awfully tight for as long as you can, my love."

**********

You woke to the sound of water rushing beside you. You laid upon a bed of moss; a thick blanket tucked around you. You felt shade cover you as a figure knelt as your side. A hand on your head, pushing your bangs back lovingly. You stretched and groaned in response, not wishing to leave behind the warmth of your blanket, and kept your eyes closed.

"What a shame." Eddie cooed with a smirk, seeing right through your fib. "My little wife is simply too weak and exhausted to carry on. I suppose I must leave her behind..."

Your eyes flew open, taking his bait. "Leave her behind!?"

Eddie laughed brightly, pulling you into a smiley kiss. You were beginning to think nothing in the world felt better than kissing him.

Eddie's nose nudged against yours as he hummed passively. "Did you know you talk in your sleep?"

Your jaw dropped, "I do not, Eddie Munson."

He giggled, "You most certainly do, Mrs. Munson. We had a whole conversation whilst you slept."

"What about, pray tell?"

Eddie laid on his back beside her, letting her rest against his chest as he tucked his arms behind his head. "How handsome I am."

You smirked, rolling your eyes as you kissed him. The sun was warm and the cool earth beneath you felt like silk beneath your skin.

"I feel like I could do anything I wanted out here. No one could stop me."

"You could." Eddie smirked with another peck. "But I'm afraid we must keep traveling, my love. We still have a long way to go."

"How far are we going?

He tucked hair behind your ear, "So far they'll never find you. So far that it will be impossible for them to take you from me."

You nodded, curling in against him.

"And once we have finally traveled far enough..." Eddie grinned down at you. "I shall build you our cottage by the stream."

***********

@ali-r3n

@stephanie-nicks76

@penandpage

@the-local-pendeja

@blindbisexualgoose

@eddiemunsonsgf2

@panickedpanko

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie the freak munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munsen x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munsen #Eddie x reader #eddie imagine

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ghouljams · 2 months

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I can just imagine the first time König meets his darling goes a little like; he steps on one of her flowers and out of nowhere this woman appears and starts giving him the dressing down of his life for being "such a clumsy, unobservant oaf," but the whole time he's just starting at her with heart eyes.

She could also keep the name Bee, because she's buzzing about the flowers all day. Though, perhaps she's a bit more like a hornet with that fiery personality she has.

Yeah that's pretty much how it happens.

König has never cared much for plants, he walks through the garden with advisors in tow, grumbling and growling until he finally rounds on them to leave him the hell alone for two goddamn minutes. Christ he didn't become king so he could deal with all this mundanity, he became king because his father was weak and the kingdom was going to shit. Corruption was a hydra, each head he chopped off just sprouted three more. He needed people he could trust, not power hungry nobles that only sought to elevate their own status by joining his cabinet. He may have to look outside the kingdom for that.

König stops at the edge of a wide flower bed, well tended, but in his way. The garden is full of winding paths, ones meant to draw people in to the scenery and inspire admiration in whatever flora is blooming. As previously stated, König has never cared much for plants. He steps off the path and into the bed, not so carefully trampling over the blooms and delicate stems that live there. He's king, these are his gardens, he can destroy what he wishes. Actually it's sort of nice to destroy something after a long day of signing laws and reviewing tax nonsense. He steps more purposefully onto a rose bush, eyes wide and pleased at the way the thorns drag against his clothes and attempt to prick him. Good, he hopes they draw a little blood for the trouble it's causing to walk through them. He even hears them yelp.

Oh no, that was a human. He stops grinding his boot into the woody stems and glances back at you. You look horrified. You look mad. Oh you look mad. He feels the emotion sink down his spin like warm honey, your eyes are furious as you pick your way through the trampled flowers. Actually you stop and gasp in horror at one of the bushes he'd destroyed crouching to fret over the stems and cup the delicate petals. König takes that as his sign to continue his walk. He doesn't expect you to stand in front of him or push your hands against his chest to yell at him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" You ask him, fury edging your voice, his eyes dart between yours enjoying the fire in them, "Do you have any idea the work I've had to put in to make the hydrangeas that color? The soil has to be exactly right or they won't be red enough and look at what you're doing to my roses!" You push at him again, he tips his head to properly stare down at you.

"Move." He commands, and you push him again. Something shakes in his eyes, makes the world feel like it's trembling on the edge of insanity.

"You are supposed to stay on the path," You insist, "You move!"

"I am your king," König threatens, "Move or I will move you."

It hardly seems to make you do more than glare. He'd think you were stupid if he hadn't decided you were crazy. You point at the path he's made for himself. "This is my garden, and my flowers, and you-" You jab a finger against his chest, "-are going to apologize for ruining it."

König grabs your wrist and drags you, kicking, the rest of the way across the flower bed. You do your best, but he's sure to make you trample some of your precious flowers same as him. He tosses you onto the path and, though you stumble, you manage to keep yourself upright, glaring as he steps over the stone edging and back onto the path. You clench your hands into fists, and he hopes maybe you'll cry. He likes when that happens, it's fun seeing the waterworks. Instead you slap him, and all his anger and annoyance fall into the pit of his stomach as the chainmail mask stings both his cheek and your hand.

You seem to realize you've just struck the king almost as quickly as König realizes it. Though your reaction and his are miles apart. You freeze and he, decidedly doesn't. König grabs your arms and squeezes you, leaning in close to look you in the eye. You can smell the metal of his mask, see the almost reddish color of his irises. The mad dog that killed his father rather than wait for a throne that was already his. He's going to kill me, you think to yourself, watching the heave of his shoulders as he breathes.

"Do it again," He squeezes you tighter and your fear flips to confusion, "mein Herz, mein liebe, do it again Liebling."

Who are you to deny an order from your king?

#könig x reader #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #cod x reader #x reader #x oc #cod x oc #medieval au #oc: liebling #König x oc #konig mw2 #they're freaks but that's fine #König finds out about Liebling's poison garden and asks to marry her #she turns him down immediately #I think König is a masochist #but in the way the hayao miyazaki is a masochist #he just assumes everyone enjoys pain like he does lol

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pandoraslxna · 2 months

Text

Neteyam x female human reader

⋆｡° ✮ Minors dni 🔞

⋆｡° ✮ Masterlist

⋆｡° ✮ Warnings: explicit smut, masturbation, sex toys, Dom/sub, lingerie

⋆｡° ✮ Translations: paskalin = honey

"You want to come so bad, huh? Then make yourself come."

He‘s not even watching you, eyes fixed on the knife in one hand and the stone sharpening it in his other, as you sit there on the floor humiliating yourself in front of him.

Neteyam’s spread out on his seat, showing off his dominance like a slap in the face, legs parted wide to take up even more space. You let out a gasp, half overwhelmed, half just seeking his attention. He doesn't move.

Your head tips back, eyes fluttering shut as you press the silicon cock against your g-spot again, stretching your legs further upward and apart, the seams of your thigh highs cutting into your skin. You moan again, your hips working against your hand as you slide the dildo almost the whole way out before pressing back in slowly. You're teasing yourself on purpose, because you know he likes it when you do that.

You rock your whole body back on your balancing arm, opening yourself up even further, your toes curling, catching the silk fabric of your stockings between them, and you bite your lip, letting a whine escape your throat. It feels like you've been here for ages, fucking yourself on the floor while Neteyam just ignores you. You want him to look at you, you want him to slide down to you on his knees and rip the tight fabric from your legs with his teeth. You want his cock buried inside you instead of a plastic imitation. You want to wrap your arms around his shoulders and scream into his neck as he makes you come with deep, punishing power. But he doesn’t, and it’s driving you insane.

Willpower and focus have always been his strong suit, and he’s never been so determined before, as when he’s punishing you for touching yourself while he was gone.

Your hand speeds up, forcing the toy harder inside, a sharp cry forcing itself out at the images you're conjuring to torture yourself. You're sounding desperate now, and you don't care because you just need him to look at you, you need him to see you like this, to see what he's making you do to yourself. It's his fault, and its all for him. You open your eyes, watching him close, praying that he would at least glance at you, even just acknowledge you. Another gasp, a pant, a curse, anything to get him to look at you.

You switch, securing the toy down on the floor, moving yourself to sit up over it, the tip still inside you. Your stockings cut deeper into your thighs and you want nothing more than him to snap them against your skin, to play with them as he watches you close, to notice that you’re wearing them just for him, to see how fucking wet you are as you press your hips down onto the fake cock, wishing it would be his instead.

The toy pushes at a new angle, brushing your special spot with each long stroke. You’re so close, you’re vision is clouding and light is bursting behind your eyes. Your throat hurts from ragged breaths, your voice liquid and rattling. His name starts pouring from your mouth like a stream, mixed with curses and despair. Your eyes are wet, tears mixing with sweat as they spill down your face, your heart fit to detonate. You're staring at him, so fucking close, all he'd have to do is just...

Neteyams eyes finally flicker down. He sees you. Sees what he's done to you, the mess he's made you become for him.

Your heart stops, a strangled shout tearing your chest open as you feel yourself explode, still fucking yourself down on the toy inside you as you finally stare into his eyes. Your whole body is pulsing hard, your walls clenching down on the toy as you gush around it, painting the floor before you.

You keep going, still writing on the dildo, grinding yourself up and down, feeling your slick trickle down your thighs as you push yourself through the aftershocks. He keeps watching every tiny motion you make as you move slower and slower, body heavy and failing as you come down, a new high brightening in the tips of your fingers, glowing through you.

Your head feels fuzzy, room spinning around you a little, your hair sticking to your forehead, mouth still wet around small whiny moans.

You've barely slipped the toy from you when he's wrapping you up in a blanket, pulling you into his lap, arms holding you tight, pressing a firm kiss to your shoulder as you shiver, unbalanced and lit up like a light.

"Good girl", he then finally sighs into your ear, placing a kiss to your cheek. "You’ve done so well, paskalin. I‘m so proud of you for taking your punishment and I hope you’ve learned your lesson on not touching what is mine while I’m gone, hm?"

You're sure you look like a royal fucking mess right about now but he doesn't seem to care. His knife discarded to somewhere else, his own breathing now seems almost as laboured as yours as he cradles you, rocking you gently, while your eyes slowly come back into focus.

You snuggle in, still catching your breath as you rest your head against his chest, unable to speak for the moment though neither of you really mind. He rubs comfortingly at your arm, drawing absent circles, his lips pressing the top of your head while he whispers soft praises into your ear. You try to move a little, stretch your legs out, but its no use; you're utterly spent and completely boneless in his arms.

You smile. You know its what he wanted, that he's grateful. That he knows you love him. That he loves you back.

You fall asleep after a while, and he's still there when you wake up. He's still watching you, like he always will.

#avatarmatingseason #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar 2 #atwow #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader smut #atwow neteyam #avatar neteyam #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x female reader smut #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam x human reader #neteyam smut #neteyam sully smut #neteyam sully x reader

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nyaagolor · 4 months

Text

Ranking the Ace Attorney main cast on whether or not I think they'd be a narc

I was making a more coherent, serious post about the different approaches to justice each of the characters have and how that is shaped by their backstory... and then I realized a funnier question is what they would do if they saw you eating a weed brownie so I made this post instead

Phoenix: In the trilogy era, yes. He trusts people, but believes that trust has to be built on pursuing justice and always accepting the harsh reality. He'd be sad about it, but a narc nonetheless. In his Beanix era he's making his money through "totally legal gambling" and on the hunt for questionably legal evidence so I have no doubt in my mind there's a pot farm under the WAA for supplemental income. He gives up his narc ways and for that I salute him

Apollo: If I were to pick a single member of this cast who is NOT invited to the rotation it would be him. He had zero hesitation throwing Kristoph to the wolves after working for him for years so I know he has absolutely zero qualms about ratting out his friends or coworkers. Loyalty means nothing in the eyes of justice and it means nothing to him. He's a narc.

Athena: She's gonna lecture you and look all sad about it, but she's no snitch. She's been through the rounds with Simon so she gets it. Having to know you hurt her feelings is enough of a punishment in her eyes

Edgeworth: He's not a narc but he IS obsessed with being right, so if you don't immediately fess up with exactly what you're doing he's going to send your stoned ass to the chess dimension and honestly I think that's worse

Franziska: Unfortunately she is a cop. Narc.

Godot: Diego-era yeah he's a narc, but after the coma? I feel like he has better things to worry about, he would just ignore you. He has some soul searching to do and some grief complexes to unlearn he doesn't have the time to be a lil snitch. Post prison I think he's stoned somewhere in Kurain and chillaxing, as is his right

Klavier: Don't let his rockstar attitude fool you he's a narc and extremely annoying about it. The gavinners tour bus is dry as hell and it's all Klavier's fault. Daryan offers him a line and he gets all uppity and says "the only LINE i want you doing is the third line in the prechorus, you keep messing up the syncopation" and that's the end of that discussion

Simon: He's been in prison so he knows what's up. Not a narc. Might glare at you until you share though

Nahyuta: He's a narc and will lecture you so long about it you're tempted to turn yourself in to get out of earshot. He also never forgets and never forgives. Datz is trying to reform him but it isn't going well

Sebastian: Yes, but I think the idea of him having to turn in someone for it would make him cry so they end up comforting him instead. Kay thinks he needs to try a weed brownie

Maya: I want you to look at me and tell me she doesn't smoke weed. Not a narc

Pearl: I think if she found out that her big sister figure smoked weed she would have a heart attack. Def a narc

Trucy: I can say with absolute certainty that if you really wanted weed she could find you a dealer faster than anyone in the cast. Trucy is a magician and has grown up around a variety of people involved with some seedier institutions, she knows better than to snitch. Has not been and will never be a narc

Kay: Will help you shoplift. Not a narc

Gumshoe: A narc on principle, but would feel really bad about it and would probably let you off with a warning if you started crying or acting upset because I think he's a softie. He's not unreasonable

Ema: If you think she has even the tiniest sliver of respect for cops you're lying to yourself. Not a narc and will actively help you evade police out of principle. A homie, honestly

Fulbright: Not only is he a narc but he definitely runs the DARE program at the local highschool and is printed on half the posters they put up in the precinct. I'm also like 80% sure he doesn't actually know how weed works

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anton-luvr · 6 months

Text

# WHEN A GIRL TRIES TO FLIRT WITH THEM ; 7riize.

⚝ bf!riize x gn!reader | fluff...? or crack idk | bf au ⚝ note ; another reaction!! live laugh love riize + reqs are CLOSED

# SHOTARO. - very respectful and civil. will drop her with a 'oh sorry, i'm taken!' and offer an awkward smile before going back to whatever he was doing. if she kept insisting and wouldn't leave him alone, he'd just walk out of the party and go home to you. he'd rather spend time with the love of his life than being bothered by some random girlie.

# EUNSEOK. - he'll live up to his nickname of silver stone. straight up ignores her and doesn't even bother to spare a glance, just focused on talking with his friends and having a good time with drinks. if she was annoying, he'd throw a nasty side eye and a scoff at her before completely turning away.

# SUNGCHAN. - i just know that he'll go 'oh sorry, no english!!' in the most heavy korean accent ever. keeps shaking his head no and does shooing motions with his hands even though he can perfectly understand what the girl is saying. if by some unfortunate chance that she knows korean too, sungchan will create some sort of language of his own and start rambling gibberish to confuse her away. he proudly calls it 'sungchanese' >:)

# WONBIN. - bro will pull out every weird dance move made known to man. i'm talking about moving around like a chicken dancing on lava while being in space. he'll even swing air punches as a dance move to startle the girl off. not the most peaceful method to reject a girl, but wonbin will do what he needs to do !!

# SEUNGHAN. - he's prepared for this. the moment a random girl saunters up to him all flirty, he'll pull up the powerpoint he made of you. he'll say 'hi! here's my partner!' and proceed to stick the fifty slides long powerpoint in the girl's face, each slide being a pic of you and little notes of his favorite thing about you. even after the girl leaves, he'll continue going through the powerpoint on his own because you're just so pretty <3

# SOHEE. - immediately backs away, hitting her with the 'woah chill bro, i'm taken' while showing off the promise ring you got for each other. if that's not enough for her to go away, sohee won't hesitate to start barking. he knows he looks like a madman, but hey - desperate times call for desperate measures. when she's finally scared off, he'll grin proudly at his laughing friends and tell you all about it when he gets home.

# ANTON. - very uncomfortable. he won't even know what to say or do, so he calls you and asks for help. he listens when you tell him to put you on speakerphone, eyes widening when you immediately obliterate the girl and scream at her to back off. anton can't help but blush as he keeps replaying your shouted 'that's my man' and 'he's all mine' in his head, all giggly and flustered when he comes home and into your arms.

taglist: @wonbons (drop an ask to be added to my taglist!)

#riize #riize fluff #riize angst #riize fics #riize imagines #riize drabbles #riize scenarios #riize x reader #riize anton #riize wonbin #riize sohee #riize seunghan #riize eunseok #riize sungchan #riize shotaro

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loveyjelly · 3 months

Text

To Be Patient

slightly angsty but good ending

"You can do whatever you want to me. You can think of him while you fuck me. Please just don't leave yet." Rafayel had both of of his hands wrapped around your wrist.

Truthfully, he knew he wasn't the only man you were interested in but it was enough for him that you were with him right now. You've been spending so much time with your missions, Xavier, and Zayne. Where does he fit in your schedule? Because it always seems like you only come to him when he reminds you of his existence or when you're finished with everything you needed to do.

"Rafayel" You mutter under your breath. Seeing this side of him was something you never thought you'd see. "That wouldn't be good for you."

"I don't fucking care." Rafayel tried to make his voice sound stable to try and hide that he's desperate to be with you in any way he could. "Everything you want to do to him, you can do to me for now. If he's too busy for you then just use me instead."

"Rafayel, this is nonsense" Your breathing slowly became ragged. Why would he say such things? Surely, he'd be better off with someone that is not too busy to spend time with him.

"Is it?" He takes your hand and placed it on his chest, on top of where his heart is.

The sudden lack of distance caught you off guard. "If this is too much for you then I'll st- mmh"

You brought your lips to his, cutting him off.

"Does that mean…" He couldn't even dare to finish his sentence out of the fear that you'd say no.

"I'll stay."

The words rung in his ear. He couldn't believe you agreed to stay, not when he just showed how pathetic he can act just so you can keep him company.

You kiss him again, this time deeper. His lips were warm and soft, parting slightly to let your tongue slip inside. You pull him closer by his collar to let your body be fully pressed against his.

Warmth blossomed in Rafayel's chest as he felt your arms wrap around his shoulders. If he had to give up his life to spend a day with you, he would do it without hesitations. Even if he knew you wouldn't have the same answer if you were asked the same question.

"Rafayel."

The way you said his name makes up for your lips separating from his. He noticed how genuine you look and sound right now but maybe he was just seeing things. Every time he longed for you, his heart felt like a stone you were slowly chipping away. You made his heart this way.

"Please, let's just keep kissing." His eyes sparkled with tears, a few blinks away from spilling out.

"I wish you told me you were feeling this way." You ran your hands through his hair.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't sure if you felt the same." His head nuzzled your neck, hiding his tears away from your view.

"You paid me to be your bodyguard, Rafayel. I didn't want to make things complicated since I'm working for you."

"You think too much." He sniffled and tightens his arms around your waist. "Do you feel the same way?" He lifted his head to see you again.

You give him a quick kiss. "I do. I've been so busy the past few weeks it feels like I haven't made you feel like you were as important." Tears pricked your eyes as the weigh of your guilt settles.

"Do what you need to do, you know I'll always be here. Just let me know where you are and what you're doing so I don't have to wonder all time." He kissed a stray tear rolling down your cheek. "As long as you promise to come back to me, I'll be patient."

(this was supposed to have a smutty angsty ending but someone asked me to be their valentine and my mood changed lmao)

(alexa play Love Me Back by fromis_9)

#love and deepspace #rafayel x reader #love and deepspace rafayel #loveanddeepspace #love and deepspace x reader

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polakina · 2 months

Text

how they act when they're jealous

call of duty headcanons #5

hc masterlist // masterlist

god i love seeing jealousy in men. and i love the 141. so this is a nice happy medium

ALSO im running out of ideas AHH pls send me some. i need to write more

rating: explicit

stone-faced expression

teeth gritted

if looks could kill, they'd be dead

you'd all gone out after a long mission to unwind

gaz and soap took the opportunity to try and out drink eachother while simon stayed pretty much to himself

but price had alternative plans for the night

keeping an eye on you

not that you needed the supervision, but when you drank, you liked to wander. he'd been thinking about tying a balloon to your shirt when you all went out to make sure you were still in the building

he was considering it right this second, after he'd lost sight of you for a third time that night

then he caught you, at the bar, most likely ordering another round of drinks. you looked happy, smiling. it was nice for him to see after such a strenuous three weeks you'd all just had

but his eyes turned black when he saw a guy come up next to you, hand reaching for your waist

he'd left his drink with simon, made his way over to you and stood directly behind you as you were turned to the man before this asshole even formulated a hello

you'd felt a presence behind you, knowing it was john and not even turning to see if you were right. but by the look on that guy's face, you probably were

"best just to walk away, eh?" you heard from behind you. it made you smirk as the guy scuttled away like a raccoon in a trash can

turning to see john's stoic expression, his piercing gaze boring into the guy's head until he was out of view

had his hand on you the whole night after that

it felt like a protective grip on your thigh

his jaw was clenched and you felt his eyes on you constantly, but every time you looked at him, his gaze was elsewhere

feels the need to touch every part of you to eradicate any sense of that other guy's hands on you

turns dominant, holding you down, kissing every part of you

"can't believe he thought he had a chance" "fuckin' arsehole thinks he can put his hands on you" "need reminding that you're mine, hmm? is that it?"

you love it when he gets jealous

you're not leaving the bed for hours

he fucks you raw. hard.

your throat is hoarse and your voice is gone by the time he's done

you can barely lift your arms or legs afterwards; they're shaking and sore from his harsh grip on your thighs

his manhandling is rough, but you love it. you submit to it as he pounds into you until the sun peeks through your curtains

graves is who riles him the most on base

especially when he's talking to you

graves has a certain way of annoying ghost but making it seem like an entirely normal conversation to you

just by existing, he gets on ghost's nerves

"you look good in that gear, honey. suits you" was all ghost could hear from the air field

it enraged him completely. everyone saw it. you brushed it off, and saw ghost glaring at the two of you

you smirked, catching his eye. he cocked his head, almost daring you to further this

always quiet when he's jealous

just likes to watch, unless something goes too far. then he steps in

but with this, he wanted until you came to him

you did, an hour later in the armoury. he busied himself cleaning his weapons as you came into the room

you knew that look, the one he gave you

he always gave you that look. whether it was because some man gave you attention, or you flirted for intel undercover, or even if someone looked at you for too long

he didn't speak. he just walked over to you, towering above you while reaching behind your back to lock the door

he liked to make you know that you were his

"letting graves give you all that attention, hmm?" his voice was decibles lower than usual when he was like this. it made your walls clench just hearing it. "that man was looking you up and down like a piece of meat. can't have that, can we?"

liked to hear you cry out his name when he fucked you

can't feel jealous if someone else's name isn't in your mouth, can he?

with each thrust he coaxed you, ordered you to tell him who you belonged to

the table which you sat on rammed into the wall every time his cock pushed deeper and harder into you

his hand on your throat forcing you to look at him, into his eyes, fingerprints bruising into your skin

his hands slapped against your thigh, marking your skin a deep red

never let you cover it up the next day either, you had that shit on show, for all ghost could say

graves steered clear of you after that

as a commanding officer, you trained the rookies

but they were smarmy and smug, often threw comments your way that you learned to brush off without a passing thought

soap had sat in on one of your sessions, watching from under a tent

he watched them whisper about you, watched a few of them gaze at your arse

it made his blood boil

his face could never hide any signs of jealousy. it painted his features like a detailed portrait

they were target shooting, and the few delinquents that couldn't concentrate on anything other than you were poor at their aiming

he liked to prove his worth in situations like this

he took it as a competition, one he knew he could win

you saw him stride over, taking the rifle out of one of the boys hands and taking a stance at the marker

rolling your eyes, you knew this couldn't end well

he'd done this before

a guy tried to flirt with you in a bar once, soap won the fight between them

you were whistled at while driving through the city you lived in, soap smoked him and sped off way ahead of that asshole

he can't back down

he doesn't realise he doesn't need to compete for you. you're already his

soap fires at every target with immediate precision, not even taking a breath between shots

then he tosses the gun back to the rookie with a smug look on his face

"maybe start focusing on the task at hand instead of her, hmm? or else i'll have you off this base before you can blink, boy"

he grinned as he caught your eye, winking before taking his seat back under the shadow of the tent, continuing to watch as though nothing happened

no rookie let their gaze linger on you again after that

he came to visit you at work often when he was home, so he didn't have to stay in the apartment by himself

the little coffee shop was a comforting place for him, the smell of coffee grounds and freshly baked goods always lifting his spirits

you had a co-worker that was always close by your side, but he never thought much of it up till now

you were on your break and made your way over to join him at the table with two coffees in hand

you seemed different, more irked than usual, and your phone wouldn't shut up either, which seemed to piss you off more

it was your co-worker. he learned about the dates he'd asked you on, about whether you wanted to go to his place after work. it'd been happening for weeks, even after you'd said no

gaz said nothing, making his way over to that co-worker

you watched as he leaned over the counter, whispering something to the man that turned his skin pale and his eyes wide

he scurried off to the back room and gaz walked back over to smiling

"what did you say?"

"nothing you haven't already said to him, love"

he pulled your chair closer, kissing the side of your head

he was calm when jealous, to a point where you could barely tell

his jaw never clenched, his gaze never darkened, his body language remained the exact same

but he was always observant, never let anything go too far

but his body language always changed, more tense, more aggravated whenever you became uncomfortable in any situation

he was always by your side in seconds, but never starting a confrontation, just removing you from the scene without causing a fight

like i said, not a man of confrontation

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kyemna · 3 months

Text

Hazbin Hotel headcanons

TW: Mentions of sex and alcohol. some suggestive themes that's it, it's mostly just fluff.

(English isn't my first language)

Charlie

-Will do anything for you.

-you want flowers? Done. You saw a cute stuffed animal in the store front and you want it? You got it. Somebody harassed you on the streets and you want them punished? Let her take care of it. Normally she's against violence, but when it comes to protecting you? She'll do anything.

-will sing to you, all the time

-made a special song that she sings to you when you've had a bad day

-the best listener ever.

-will sit and listen to you talk for hours

-if she needs to get to work early, she'll make you breakfast and leave you a note that says something like:

-hi, good morning lovely! I hope you sleep well.

I had to leave early.. something happened at the hotel while Alastor was away, and they needed me.

See you 2night, i love you:)<3

-i think her love languages are physical touch and words of affirmation

Angel Dust

-whisper's provocative things to you during meetings

-definitely a physical touch kind of guy.

-Will cling to you at the most random times

-keeps Valentino as far away from you as possible.

-tries his best to keep his relationships hidden from him as well

-if you'd come home after a long day, he'd give you a massage

-is super funny, tell me otherwise.

-has a high sex drive, and is pretty kinky due to his job.

-so expect him to ring you up at the most unexpected times.

-PS. Don't put him on speaker when you're in public..

Vaggie

-was pretty cautious around you in the beginning, but slowly warms up to you

-once she's comfortable, she tells the wildest stories and acts them out for you

-if you don't know how to fight, she'll teach you

-if you do know how to fight, you guys spar all the time

-jealousy issues, and you can't tell me other wise.

-she hears someone talk to you in a tone she doesn't like? Glare. Someone low-key flirting with you? Glare. If looks could kill.. she will actually kill them though, so..

-not super experienced in bed, but she's open to suggestions

-once she finds something she likes/is comfortable with, she askes you for it all the time

-a "words of affirmation" and "acts of service" girl for sure

Alastor

(i am perfectly aware he's ace, but these are scenario's for if he wasn't, don't come for me)

-now, Alastor is a great dancer.

-he has great music taste too!

-listens to 1940's and below.

-i think he's mostly into Jazz and Classical music to be honest

-i do think Amy Winehouse and Dave Brubeck are his exceptions when it comes to listening to 1950's and above

-somehow always knows where you are..? You often see his shadows follow you, so that's probably why

-kills for you. Also because he has a thirst for blood, that needs to be satisfied. So that's 2 birds with one stone

-holds doors open for you

-just a general gentleman

-loves it when you wear dark red, dark blue and dark green

-it can be anything. Lipstick (just red though), a hat, a dress, heels, etc.

-expects you to respect his personal space but doesn't respect yours LMFAO

-gift giving and physical touch

Husk

-knows all your favorite drinks

-loves to dance with you

-also a Jazz person, but I don't think he'd mind country music to be honest

-once he secretly took a picture of you.

-he thought you looked so good, he keeps it in his nightstand.

-doesn't really talk about his problems/feelings, but prefers it if you do.

-respects your boundaries more than anyone.

-you don't wanna talk? He'll kiss your forehead, and leave you alone.

-you don't really like being touched? He'll always ask first.

-other than making amazing alcoholic drinks, he makes great coffee too!

-quality time and physical touch.

It's been quite a while since i've written something, so I apologize if there's any grammar mistakes or sentences that just don't make any sense LOL

Thank you for reading!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin husk #hazbin vaggie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #x reader #fluff #alastor x reader #husk x reader #angel dust x reader #charlie x reader #vaggie x reader #x reader fluff

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justporo · 7 months

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Hi! Could I please get some headcanons or a drabble of Astarion x anemic!Tav and how things may differ when it comes to him feeding on them, how he'd take care of them if they needed it, etc? Would love to see what you come up with. Thank you for your time! 💜

Hello and thank you very much, Anon! Since I'm actually hit with the Bloodless debuff today myself... What else could I have written?

This is a very sweet idea to write something - which I took and then made it sarcastic... I hope you like it.

Also - idk why, but for this I pictured Tav as velnna's Staeve - you probably know who I'm talking about and if you don't you should very quickly go over there and find out, because I love Steven and you should really give this incredible incredible artist who has contributed so much to this fandom a lot of love. All the love. (I didn't wanna tag them because I didn't know if it was okay and didn't want to annoy them but go check out their blog!!)

Pairing: Astarion / Tav (You) Wordcount: 1,6k

Bloodless

The sun was burning in the sky. You felt sweat almost drip from your skin. Every step seemed to be harder than the last one. Your heart was fluttering although your pulse seemed flat. Damn this Mountain Pass.

You and the rest of the party had been hiking through the mountains for days. It was exhausting for everyone, but especially for you it seemed. Surely, the fact that you had offered Astarion your blood almost every other night (and that he was always very keen and graciously grateful to take it) had quite obviously to do with how much your stamina had dwindled.

But you knew offering up your blood was very much helpful. Not only to the vampire, but the party as a whole: Astarion had basically become a menace on the battlefield since he’d been able to feed properly. Also, you were stubborn – a bit of missing blood wouldn’t knock you out. Or would it?

You tripped on a loose stone and almost face-planted on the ground. Only in the last moment were you able to catch yourself and dampen the fall with your arms. You quickly got up again and hoped no one had noticed since you’d dropped to being the last in the group today.

But trying to raise yourself so quickly had been a mistake and you suddenly felt overly woozy, your vision blurring and you were immediately back on one knee.

And of course, it hadn’t gone unnoticed: Astarion had been in front of you and had seemingly been alarmed by the noise of your fall – twice.

“What is it, Tav, got too distracted looking at my back, hm?”, he taunted and came over to where you were doubled over – leaning on your arms too now because you felt so dizzy all of a sudden that you felt you had need of all of your four limbs on the ground to support you.

When the vampire realised you weren’t getting up and also didn’t respond to his quip in your usual witty manner, he quickly gave the others a shout to let them know not to go too far ahead. Then he came over to you. You were desperately trying to not pass out when you saw the hands of the pale elf through your blurred vision reaching for you.

“You do hear me, yes?”, Astarion whispered to you. You could only nod curtly. His hands hesitantly touched your shoulders.

“Alright, can you get up? There’s a big stone over there where you could sit down.” You shook your head which made you even dizzier.

“Oh hm”, Astarion seemed a little helpless on how to proceed with you. You felt him turn away.

“Don’t tell the others!”, you exclaimed breathlessly. The vampire whipped around: “But… why?” “Just don’t please”, you whispered and carefully looked up at his face. Was that… actual worry?

“Please just… Help me sit on this rock, let me have some water… and rest and we’ll keep going in a few minutes”, you pleaded with him. Astarion didn’t look completely convinced but sighed in defeat after a few of your racing heartbeats.

“Alright – could you please not die for a moment while I go and talk to the others?”, he said in a sassy tone that couldn’t completely gloss over the worry in his voice.

You let your head fall down again and simply nodded. Astarion went off towards the rest of your companions.

Ever so slowly you felt a little bit better. Cautiously you knelt back onto your feet – at least not on all fours anymore! Shortly after you tried to carefully get up and move over to the rock Astarion had mentioned.

That was when the vampire returned. “Oh no no, you stay right where you are, you poor helpless creature that would have perished already had it not been for me.” He ran the last few feet over and grabbed one of your arms to slowly put it around his neck and help you get up and walk over to sit on the boulder. You wanted to say something witty at his taunt, but your mind was too blank.

“Also, we are actually taking a break – all of us, so don’t even try to keep on walking”, he scolded you as he placed you down.

“What did you tell the others?”, you asked simply as you placed your forearms on your thighs and just sat leaning forward like that for a little. “Tss, does it matter now? Something like I broke a nail of mine and needed a moment to mourn it or whatever”, Astarion replied annoyedly.

“Can’t believe they actually stopped for that”, you said slowly and chuckled with your head between your knees and threw up a look at your vampiric companion. “Yeah well, seems they care a lot about my wellbeing. And I take it they would about yours, too”, he gave back – again very sassily. You just chuckled but didn’t reply. You saw that he relaxed a little.

“Ah here. You should probably drink and eat a little”, the vampire said after a while of the two of you just sitting there. He offered you a water bottle and some berries from a pouch – both of which weren’t his for obvious reasons.

You narrowed your eyes at him: “Where did you get those?” “By the Gods, you are so reluctant to help, I should’ve left you in the dirt.” Astarion rolled his eyes at you. “The druid gave it to me – you’re not as inconspicuous as you might believe, oh mighty leader of our adventure troupe.” You had a desire to punch this cheeky elf but you knew you were in no condition to act on something like this, so you sighed and first took the water and then started to munch on some berries from the offered pouch.

Silence spread once more between the two of you. Before Astarion broke it again: “Listen, Tav, darling, I know this must be because you’re letting me drink your blood so often.” You immediately wanted to start protesting but the vampire hushed you, brows furrowed.

“No, for once, you’ll let me do the talking. Don’t think I’m blind – your form has been declining for quite some time now. We can’t go on like this. I mean, Halsin has also noticed already.” You stayed silent and kept popping berries in your mouth and silently thanked the druid for his kind gesture – even if you didn’t want the others to know of this weakness. You slowly started to feel better.

“As much as I enjoy our little late night… sessions. We should probably take a break – at least concerning these particular ones. And maybe later, keep longer breaks in between if you insist to keep throwing yourself at me to drink your blood”, Astarion continued and sighed theatrically.

He tried so hard to be sarcastic about the whole thing, but you noticed that he was actually worried, judging by the guilty glint in his red eyes. And maybe it was that the blood loss was affecting your brain too much but you stared at him and just dryly said: “You know, you could just admit that you care about me, Astarion.”

The vampire huffed in surprise, then he sneered with a click of his tongue: “Bah, of course I do, you seem to be the only one to get this group of clowns to work together after all. It’s not like I care for you much as a person. As a blood bag maybe, but other than that…”

You pursed your lips and let him ramble, digging his own verbal grave by trying to talk himself out of it.

You didn’t even reply afterwards, just let him steep in the own awkwardness he created.

You kept looking at him – even offered him a berry, he scrunched his nose at – then shrugged and ate it yourself.

You slowly opened your water bottle…

“Okay, maybe a little. Tiny bit. Because you’re the only one in the group who seems to have a real sense of humour – at least when you’re not lying in the dirt being a dried out husk”, Astarion exclaimed.

You grinned at him wolfishly and shook the last of the berries from the small bag into your mouth ignoring his insult. “Now, wasn’t even that hard, was it? I really like you to, Astarion”, you said and then slowly stood up – careful not to immediately make a fool of yourself again.

“I liked you better when you were staring at the dirt up close”, the vampire replied and jumped up while crossing his arms over his chest, then sauntered away.

“Sure, if that’s what you need to tell yourself”, you kept teasing and slowly went after the brooding vampire.

You met up with the rest of the camp then went on your way for the rest of the day. The others were already so used to the two of you missing from the camp at the same time (mostly during nighttime, of course) that they didn’t even look up when the two of you came back.

Later when you all had settled down for the night you saw that Astarion went over to Halsin and talked to him softly. They both threw you looks in between which made you uncomfortable because you certainly could imagine what the topic was. Before Astarion had also made sure you’d gotten the first serving of tonight’s dinner (and also seconds).

Even later when the others were already at rest the vampire confessed, he’d been asking the druid about how he could go about drinking your blood without putting too much of a strain on you. Again, you noticed that he seemed not only concerned about his blood rations when he explained that to you.

The next days you also noticed that Astarion had started carrying some water and the bag from Halsin containing the berries.

And you thought to yourself that – for a blood bag – Astarion seemed to put an awful lot of thought and action into making sure you were okay.

#astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x oc #astarion x you #fanfic #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #halsin #drabble #one shot

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angelltheninth · 1 year

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dearrr, can i request shy!gfreader x busy!bfrin, in which rin barely has time at ur shared house bcs his tight practice schedule. but once he has a free time, he found his girl always rubbing her thighs while giving rin doe eyes as if she wanted something and took rin long enough to understood that his girl being needy but she afraid that rin might got tired from his practice :((

anw thank uu, u're the best <3

No you are the best Anon, thank you for the request and the kind words.

Pairing: Rin Itoshi x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, domestic fluff, being pent up, overstimulation, fingering, wall sex, creampie, hallway sex, stress release sex

A/N: I was ready to hate Rin honestly but he really grew on me over the course of the anime.

Busy!Rin who kisses your cheek quickly before heading out for practice. There's not much time for him to be with you in the morning, you mostly get to spend time with him in the afternoon and night time. But he never rushes through the door without kissing you, that is part of his routine and he will not break it.

Busy!Rin who replies to your texts late but he does reply. If he for whatever reason doesn't then he will make sure to spend a bit of extra time with you when he gets home. These texts however are not nearly enough to fill your Rin affection meter.

Busy!Rin who opens his arms for you when he walks through the door. He beckons you closer and holds you close, kissing your forehead and inhaling your scent. He smells like grass and sweat, he didn't have time to shower because he was rushing home to see you. Hopefully you don't mind.

Busy!Rin whose kisses make you breathless, almost like he's trying to suck the air right out of your lungs and into his, your heavy breaths mixing together as you arch closer to him, moaning when his soft lips leave yours with a wet pop.

Busy!Rin who runs his fingers, feather light and tingly, up and down your back. You wind your fingers together behind his neck and pull him closer, squeezing your thighs together, looking up at him with pleading eyes, your breasts pressing against him, your nipples hard against your shirt. Might be his tired brain but he doesn't notice how horny you are, he's fully stone-faced despite his hardening cock.

Busy!Rin who was about to walk past you but made you trip and fall against the wall, his quick reflexes catching you right as your head was about to take a hit. He's holding you close, scolding you for being clumsy but also grinding against you, now fully erect as your body feels warm against his.

Busy!Rin who feels the need to discipline you. You're so horny that you wouldn't even wait for him to take a shower, so horny you couldn't let him walk past you without reaching for his cock. He's tired, he wants to shower, he wants to sleep, but clearly you wouldn't let him before he gives you what you want. You could have just asked him you know? No need to play these coy mindgames with him. He's your boyfriend, of course he would tend to your needs.

Busy!Rin who pushes your panties to the side to get to your wet pussy. Since you're so hungry for him he doesn't want to keep you waiting any longer. A part of him feels bad that he didn't notice he was neglecting you before, he's gonna remedy that right now.

Busy!Rin who tells you to spread your legs apart to make more room for his hand. You're dripping down his wrist, bucking your hips against his palm, moaning against his shoulder and biting into his neck. Oh don't hold back on his account, let your voice out, let everything out and tell him, clearly this time what you want from him.

Busy!Rin who can't help but feel a little accomplished when he hears your breathy pleas. Its not easy to get you to talk about things like this, you tend to be more honest with your body then with your words a lot of the time.

Busy!Rin who pulls his fingers out, so wet and glistening with your horny pussy juices. He'd love to taste but he doesn't want to have dessert before diner. His cock can still have a taste though, and you pussy can still get that creampie that its been wanting, just lift your skirt up for him and let him see how shiny and puffy the outside of your pussy is for him right now.

Busy!Rin who wants to make this quick, wants to make you both come as fast as possible but also wants to make this good for you. He makes sure that the door is locked, he really should have done that before, you really mess with his head sometimes you know that. Regardless, its locked now, which means that he is free to push his dripping, hard cock inside of you. It only takes him a few pumps to get a pace going, your warm, spongy insides tight around his throbbing cock, urging him to release.

Busy!Rin who makes good on his promise of giving your hole a creampie, not before his cock is slick with your release though. You're close he knows you are, his cock can feel how much your cunt aches to be filled. Why are hesitating now? You couldn't wait for it before. He smiles as he kisses you upon feeling you relax against the wall for a moment before your nails scratch the wall and your body goes taunt. He's got you, don't worry, just ride your orgasm out on his cock, buck your hips against him, make him sorry he wasn't here before.

Busy!Rin who mumbles a brief apology against your neck and pumps another kind of apology into your pussy, getting it all over the wooden floor. You don't have to clean it up, you don't have to do anything for the rest of the day, just stay on his cock until morning.

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maryangelex · 1 month

Note

Please, please, please.

I am requesting an Ex!husband John price/ Fem!reader, where they divorce and he’s absolutely devastated by it, grovels and upset that he lost the love of his life, and then years later by circumstances are in force proximity with each other and have to deal with communicating all their grievances and then bam heated smut and pent up frustrations at each other, and then get back together.

Thank you so much and I really appreciate you! But it’s also okay if you skip my request :)

a/n: anon how could i possibly leave this delectable prompt unanswered!!?!?!?! i have literally been saving this one for almost last because i need to use 110% of my prune brain its so amazing. one thing about me is...im a whore for ex-husband!price *clutches pearls* im sorry for making ya wait, i hope you love it!!!

this is gonna be a long one!

c/w: ex-husband!price, make-up sex, forced proximity, quickie, against a wall, p in v, creampie, john price yearns for his pretty wife

It hadn't been easy, no divorce is easy, really. Much less when it was something you didn't really want to do, but more so saw yourself as needing to do. The nights without John had gotten too lonely, his side of the bed had gotten too cold. You thought the times he was back would make up for the times he wasn't. When John came back from deployment it felt like a coin toss: sometimes it was your honeymoon all over again, but other times he was cold and distant.

You had two kids in tow; two kids that needed their father. You were a wife that needed her husband just as much. You don't blame him for not being there of course. After all, you owed it all to him; all you ever wanted he got for you, he provided you a house to raise your children in, to grow old in. He gave you nothing but unconditional love. That's what made everything harder when you decided you couldn't do this anymore. You couldn't keep hoping he'd come home to be his normal self every time just to be met with the shell of the man you fell in love with.

You knew it wasn't his fault, you knew his line of work. But having to be alone the majority of the year plus having to still be alone when he was around had gotten to you, it had become too much. And John knew this. When you told him through sobs and wails that you couldn't do this anymore, that you felt hopeless and alone and like this was the only remedy, he understood. He had packed his things and left without a fuss, leaving you the house and renting an apartment barely a drive away. He tried to make it as simple as possible, arranging to stay with the kids every weekend and more if you needed time for yourself. His silence and compliance to separate felt like more of a dagger in your chest than the reason to separate to begin with. You wished he had fought for you, that he had yelled at you and argued with you to stay and fix this.

Little did you know that when he found himself in the empty single-bedroom apartment he rented himself he did nothing but cry like a neglected child for hours until his eyes stung and couldn't physically push out any more tears. John Price was a man made of stone and yet he found himself clutching his chest as he sobbed for his wife nearly every night and every lonesome morning. He kicked himself for not fighting for you, as well. He blamed himself for having to come to this in the first place, for leaving you alone and not knowing how to cope well enough to be the very best of himself when he came back from grueling missions. For not being able to look you in the eyes after losing a man, for not being able to open up to you and cry like this in front of you when he needed to let it out of his chest, for not making love to you like a tending husband should at his wife's every whim.

He felt like the consequences of choosing his career had finally caught up to him, and losing you was his penance.

The two of you finalized your divorce quietly and without struggle, feeling like it only drove the knife deeper into your chest. You settled on the kids seeing John every other weekend and he'd be more than welcome back home to be present as their father. Because that was the thing about John: he may have not seen himself as a good man (not good enough for you, for sure) but you both knew he was the best father your kids (and you) could ever ask for.

It's been a year since your divorce; John had been living in his separate flat whilst you and the kids stayed home. He'd come every week, and take the kids every other weekend. Now your oldest's birthday was a few days away and who were you to deprive him of coming? After he had been doing such a good job at not crossing your boundaries, at being a loving father and giving you every bit of warmth and kindness and love that he gave you when you were still together...the more you listed these things the more your heart ached and you doubted yourself. The more you realized you still loved him.

On the day of your kid's birthday, he made sure to get there extra early to help you set up the place. He bought the necessary supplies, picked up the cake from the bakery, and set up the chairs and balloons. Hell, you barely lifted a finger. And of course, he was more than happy to do everything and anything for you with that cheek-pulling smile of his. As the party went on and the house filled with guests and wild kids running about, you scrambled around the house to make sure no one needed anything. That's when John intervened.

"Everythin' alright, hon? Been runnin' round the house like mad," his voice was sweet like honey as he entered the garage, where you were taking out can after can of soda from the spare fridge and into the cooler with ice you brought with you. You didn't turn to look at him as you sighed in exasperation, but you could feel John just a few steps behind you.

"Just making sure everyone's got something to drink...the sodas've run out in the cooler outside and--"

"Everyone's havin' a good time, love," John cut off your rambling with a light chuckle, the rumbling of his voice making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. He interjected by taking the cooler from your hands "Let me get that for you," he said, lifting the heavy plastic for you. You sighed again and brought the back of your hand to rub your forehead. You finally looked up to meet his eyes, which were gazing at you with so much adoration it made your stomach twist.

"John..." you started, and he responded with a furrow of his brows and a silent question. "Please don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" he asked.

"Like you still love me," you blurted, and the beat your heart skipped let you know you physically regretted saying that, instantly.

John's lips pressed into a thin line as he paused for a moment in silence.

"I do still love you," he confessed. You shook your head in disbelief and scoffed.

"John, please, it's our kid's birthday," you dismissed as you turned on your heel and made your way to the door except-

Right, you now remembered why it was a rule in your house this past year to not close the garage door: the lock was busted. You gripped the knob firmly and gave it one, two, three harsh tugs, hoping to somehow force the door open. You banged the door with your fist in frustration, hoping maybe someone heard it on the other side but all you heard was the music playing on the other side.

"Let me have a go," John said, placing the cooler down and tugging just as harshly, even slamming his shoulder against it to see if it would budge, but nothing. You and John were trapped in your garage. You let out a groan and a quiet curse as you pinched the bridge of your nose with a hand on your hip.

John placed a hand on your bicep. They were cold from the ice but the squeeze and rubbing of his thumb on your skin was filled with warmth.

"S'alright, take a breather, hon," he said tenderly, "they'll miss us soon enough to come lookin' in here."

You nodded as you stepped away from his touch. You never stopped John from still using terms of endearment for you, it never felt like a big deal. You were frustrated from the party, the perfectionist in you wanting nothing but to give your kids the best party, and now you were locked up in the garage. To make matters worse, you were locked up in here with your ex-husband who just said he still loves you.

"I meant what I said, love," his voice was barely a whisper but it still brought you out of your thoughts.

"John..." you warned.

"No, I mean it," his tone rose, firmer this time, "I still fuckin' love you, baby."

"Well, it's too late for that now, isn't it? You're gonna make an effort now, John, a year later?"

John was silent, pleading blue eyes gazing at you, the muscles in his jaw tensing.

"You didn't fight for us, John. You didn't fight for me." your finger pointed to your chest firmly as you looked back at him with tear-filled eyes.

"I know, baby, I know," his voice shook in his throat, "I should've fought for us... I should've been a better husband to you, better dad for the kids I-- I should've just been there."

You were quiet as you choked on a quiet sob, the tears escaping down your cheeks.

"I haven't stopped loving you for a second, my only regret in life is not having fought harder for you, having let go of you so easily - fuck," you watched the tears prick his eyes as he stepped closer to you. His palm came to cup your cheek and his thumb wiped away the tear staining your cheeks.

"I failed you. I just...please, baby, I just want one more chance to be a better man for you... I just want my girl back." His tone was soft as if he was reciting a prayer kneeling at a pew. His other hand came to the other side of your face, tucking your hair behind your ear before it cupped your other cheek alike.

You sobbed and brought your hands up to his wrists, shaking your head lightly, knowing all you really wanted was to forgive him despite your denial.

His forehead pressed against you as he whispered once more, "Please, baby..."

"John..." you tried

The tip of his nose rubbed against yours, "Please," he repeated, "be my pretty wife again...be mine again, yeah?" His lips brushed against yours and his hands were firm on your cheeks. You sobbed one more time before his lips pressed against yours, slotting together like two pieces of a puzzle. And fuck, you melted as your lips met.

His lips against yours just felt so right; they were your husband's lips, after all. They were made for yours and yours were made for his, that's why you knew you were so perfect for each other. The way he kissed you made your chest break into a million pieces because you just missed him so much.

The hold on his wrists became limp and you didn't resist - you couldn't resist his kiss because you wanted it so desperately, you've wanted it for this entire past year.

Your mouth moved with his, lips clashing and caressing against each other, teeth clicking together with the force of your desperate kisses, your tongues hungrily pressing their way into each others' mouths. John's hand slid to the back of your head, fingers snaking into your hair and raking through your scalp. You hummed into his mouth at the feeling.

Your hands slid up his back, balling into fists over his shoulder blades and gripping the fabric of his shirt as if you'd lose him again if you didn't hold him firm enough. You held him impossibly close to you as he did the same, your bodies familiarly molded to each other.

You felt John step forward as he still kissed you, backing you up into the nearest wall and it made the heat in your core ignite like a bonfire. When you felt the cold wall against your body, you pried your mouth away from his to gasp a breath but it wasn't half a second later before he captured your lips again. His hands slid down the frame of your body, pawing at your chest and curves before eagerly bunching up the skirt of your dress around your hips. You scrambled to his belt, clumsily and hurriedly doing your best to unbuckle it and undo his pants.

He scoured under your dress to tug your underwear down your thighs with messy urgency. His lips sloppily and wetly trailed up and down your chest and neck before finding their way back to your mouth.

Your hand palmed his hardened length through his boxers and he groaned into your mouth. One of his hands took hold of yours and stuffed it in his boxers to stroke his aching cock as you both panted between kisses.

"All yours, darling," he groaned as he guided your hand stroking his cock, "forever fuckin' will be yours."

And you whined at his words, or maybe at the way his other hand snaked between your legs, fingers wetting themselves with the slick pooled between your folds before pressing into your hole. He pumped his fingers in and out, making you reminisce on how those thick digits have made you feel so good in the past.

You moaned his name like a prayer, pleading for him to fuck you because you needed him. You've needed him for a fucking year and couldn't wait a second longer.

John would give you anything and everything, he always has. So he wasted no time in removing his fingers from your pussy, coating his cock in the slick they collected, and using his other hand to hike your leg up around his waist.

You braced yourself against the wall and with your hands against his shoulders as he practically lifted you off your feet and insert his girthy, swollen cock inside of you. You moaned unabashedly at the way he split you open as he bottomed out.

"So perfect...my perfect wife," he breathed, "made just for me, baby." His fingers dug into the flesh of your thigh and you were sure it would bruise the same way your nails clawing through his shirt were sure to leave crescents on his skin.

John pumped his cock in and out of you slowly but firmly for a few strokes before picking up the pace. His rhythm was relentless as he fucked up into you, pistoning his hips and making your skin clap against each other.

You threw your head back as you whined and moaned at the feeling of the head of his cock bullying against your cervix. Thank god for the music outside.

John hiked up your other leg, wrapping both around his waist as he fucked you against the wall hard and needy. His eyes looked deep into your teary ones, not breaking away to not miss the gorgeous sight of his pretty wife getting fucked by him after so long. He moaned at just the look on your face, at the way your walls gripped him like a vice.

"Look at you... never lettin' go of somethin' so beautiful," he practically slurred, his rhythm becoming sloppy and desperate as he chased his high, and he knew you were close too.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and took his mouth into another starved kiss. Your hands tugged at the hair on the back of his head and you let him fuck you with the same longing and desire as the first time.

You chanted his name between breathy moans as you climbed up to your climax. John was a mumbling mess of endearments and sweet nothings as he kept thrusting hard and sloppy into your squelching pussy.

"I love you, John," you choked out through tears, not knowing if it was from the pleasure he was giving you or from the overwhelming emotion being with your husband again was making you feel.

"I fuckin' love you more, dove," he accentuated his words with thrusts until he felt your walls clamp around his length and watched as you wailed and sobbed out more moans, sending him into his own climax with just a few more pumps shortly after. You were sure you'd bear him a third child with the way his cum seeped out of you.

He rested his sweat-coated forehead against yours as you both panted. You were a flushed mess against the wall, limbs liquefied and throat raw. John slowly let you down with the utmost care in the world, gently holding you up on your feet like you were a delicate porcelain doll.

You held each other close as he peppered soft kisses on your face, the same way he'd always done after sex when you were married. John Price, always the gentleman.

You basked in the afterglow as you gazed at each other, love filling John's wide dark pupils. It was hard for you to hide the smile that tugged at your lips and it made John chuckle, thumb rubbing your cheek lovingly.

Then, you heard the rattling of the door and you quickly stood up straight and collected yourself up on your feet the best you could. Kyle, or Uncle Gaz as your kids coined him, and the other two men had burst through the lodged garage door.

"Oi, how long you two been locked here?" he questioned.

"Aye, we been callin' youse for half 'n hour," the Scott quipped behind him.

John scolded them for not acting quicker if they were so worried, and scowled at the way the younger two had shit-eating grins plastered on their faces. He dismissed them as he picked up the cooler, which was now more full of water than ice, and shot you a look.

You chided at his smirk with your bright red cheeks.

"This mean I can move back in?" he teased.

"We'll see, John" you fought back a smile.

#cod mw2 #call of duty mwii #cod fanfic #fanfic #john price #anon ask #anon request #thanks anon!#price mw2 #captain john price #captain price #price #price x reader

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Text

In Bloom

Chapter One

Max wasn't like other Hogwarts students. He was having to live with the terrible things his father had done. Everybody expected him to turn out like his father, but he was the furthest thing from. He just needed two people to see that

Lestappen X Reader

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Okay so this follows the basic plot of the Harry potter books (from memory), with some major differences to fit our drivers. A list of which Harry potter each driver relates to can be found HERE

Series Masterlist

Max Verstappen could still remember the dread he felt as he stepped up to the sorting hat at just eleven years old. Everybody avoided him on the train, and he'd waited at the back of the queue to be sorted.

Not Slytherin, he thought as he climbed those stairs. Anything but Slytherin.

It came as no surprise that he was sorted into Slytherin. His entire family had been, and he was no different. 'There wasn't a witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin,' he'd heard somebody say before the sorting.

But even Slytherin didn't want him. He went to sit down and everybody shuffled away from him, giving him plenty of space. Even in his newfound house, even with the people that were supposed to be like his family, as professor Vettel had said, he felt alone.

Unable to look past his own dread, Max had failed to notice something. He failed to notice the boy with his hair covering his forehead and eyes, definitely impairing his vision. Even when the boys name was called, Max didn't notice.

He shouldn't have been surprised to hear the name 'Leclerc Charles' called. He was the boy that had defeated his father, after all. The whispers began as soon as his name was called. Gryffindor, his new house, cheered as he ran to join them. The same thing happened for Max just moments later, but without the cheering. They were like mythical creatures to the other students in the hall. Well, Charles was. Max was more like a circus freak.

First year for Max Verstappen was incredibly lonely. All anybody wanted to talk to him about was his father. They were all questions he couldn't answer because he didn't know his father. He had been destroyed when Max was only a year old.

Flying lessons were Max's favourite. He'd grown up watching Quidditch with his mother, even playing it sometimes. She'd played it for her entire life, up until she met Jos. It was in Max's blood. Max was determined to show Professor Button just what he could do to be put on the Slytherin team. No first year had ever made it onto the team before, he was determined to be the first.

Max tried to act shocked when Professor Button went to Professor Alonso, the head of Slytherin house, and begged him to put Max on the Qudditch team. "He's the best thing this schools ever seen!" Professor Button insisted.

Professor Alonso gave him a trial period. One match to prove he could keep up with the older kids on the team. For Max Verstappen, it was the easiest thing in the world.

This was the stuff of legend in Hogwarts. But it was overshadowed by Charles Leclerc and his idiot friends.

Max didn't know what happened to Charles, Esteban and Pierre under the school. It was all speculation and rumours. Nobody know whether they fought a dragon or found the legendary philosophers stone. Only Professor Schumacher knew that. Professor Schumacher and Charles.

Max heard all of the rumours. He ignored them as best he could. But there was one rumour that he couldn't shake. "Someone said that it was your dad Charles was fighting under the school," said Nikita, a fellow Sytherin and a massive dickhead. "Said he killed him, again."

Max couldn't stop his reaction. He leapt out of his seat in the common room and swung his fist at Nikita, hitting him square in the jaw. Nikita stumbled back, holding his jaw. Shock played on his face, but it soon turned into a smile. "You're going to regret," he started. "Didn't you know my father is close, personal friends with the minister?"

"I didn't ask, Nikita," Max spat as he walked away, leaving the common room all together.

First year wasn't all bad for Max. No, he made history on the Quidditch team and he made a few friends. Lando and Daniel, two Hufflepuffs with the widest smiles and hearts of gold.

He met Daniel first. He was maybe the first person Max had ever properly gotten along with. He found a kindred spirit in Daniel. He was maybe the funniest person Max had ever met.

Daniel had introduced Max to Lando halfway through their first year. Max had never had that connection with anybody. He finally knew what it was like to have friends, and it felt amazing. For the first time since arriving at the school, Max was himself. He was happy, funny, bubbly. Every joke Max cracked had Daniel folded at the waist, hands on his knees as he laughed.

Their friendship continued into Max and Lando's second year. Daniel was just that little bit older, going into his fourth year.

Second year was the first proper run in that Max had with Charles Leclerc. It had been a shit day for Max, Nikita was being an ass and his potions test scores were less than perfect. He was pissed at himself. His escape was the quidditch pitch. It was supposed to be empty. He could fly around, weaving in and out of the stands and goal hoops as much as he liked.

But he wasn't alone. No, somebody else was opening the box of quidditch supplies. Max hung back, watching to see what Charles did. He watched as Charles tucked the quaffle under his arm and mounted his broom.

He wasn't even on the quidditch team for his house. What was he doing there? But, the more Max watched, the more he understood. He watched as Charles flew around with skill. He did what Max was going to do, weaving around the stands and through the goal hoops, all with the quaffle tucked under his arm. It was no easy accomplishment. Max was thoroughly impressed.

He gave Charles a nod as he mounted his broom and flew around. They stayed away from each other that time, practiced without disturbing one another.

As soon as Max was done, he rushed to Professor Buttons office. He was still in his quidditch robes, his fingers a little frozen as he held his broom. "Professor," he called as he knocked on the door. "Can I talk to you?"

Max would never tell Charles Leclerc that he was the reason he was on the quidditch team. They hadn't spoken two words to each other yet, Max couldn't imagine a time where they'd be that friendly.

In his second year of Quidditch Max proved himself to be better than anyone expected. But, with the addition of Charles to the Gryffindor team, Slytherin finally had some real competition.

But the year wasn't all sparkles and rainbows. Not when the attacks started. Muggleborns being petrified, it was terrifying.

When the chamber of secrets was opened, everybody turned to Max. His father had opened it last time, hadn't he? So it only made sense that he opened it this time.

Those were the first words Charles Leclerc spoke to him. "Did you open the chamber of secrets?"

Mac couldn't hide the shock on his face. "Are you kidding me? Why would I want to attack muggleborns?" One of his best friends was muggleborn, for goodness sake.

But still, Charles wouldn't leave it alone. Things only got worse when Esteban was petrified. Charles cornered Max, demanded he fixed what he had done. All Max could do was express condolences and walk away.

But then Daniel was petrified. "Fuck," Max choked out when Lando told him. He followed him to the hospital wing and rushed straight to Daniels side. He wouldn't leave, not until his best friend was up and moving. The nurses were too afraid of him to pull him away.

Golden boy Charles saved the day. He found out who had been opening the chamber, a little first year who had no control over her actions. A cure for the petrifications was made using Mandrakes and Esteban and Daniel were on their feet just before the end of the year.

Max had been avoiding Charles. Ever seen his confronted him over Esteban, he wanted nothing to do with him. He and everyone else would always see him as the villain. It was so sad to learn that at just twelve years old.

But Charles found him. He cornered him once again, but this time, his expression was soft. "I'm sorry," he said.

Max looked at the floor, his jaw tight.

"It was wrong of me to assume that you're the one who opened the chamber. I realise that now," he continued.

Max let out something of a snort. "Just because my dad is a monster, it doesn't mean I am," was all he said. He pushed past him, trying to get away, trying to get to the end of year feast. But, before he could get too far, he stopped and turned back towards Charles. "If you want any chance of beating us in Quidditch next year, you should get a haircut, stop it from going in your eyes."

Just before the start of their third year, mass murderer Nico Rosberg escaped from Azkaban. Max remembered reading it in the paper. He read the headline out loud and his mother let the plate she was holding slip from her grasp. "Nico got out?" She asked as she rushed over.

Max nodded his head and showed her the paper. "I wanna know how he got past the dementors," he said with curiosity. He then turned to his mother. "Did you know him?"

It wasn't often she spoke about her time with Jos. From the little bits Max knew, it was awful and Max was the only good thing to come from it.

She shook her head. "He started Hogwarts just as I was finishing. I remember hearing his name a lot. He was always causing some sort of trouble with his best friend."

Max dropped the topic. The news article had said that Nico had been a supporter of his father. If he was out, maybe he was going to try and finish the job on Charles.

At the first feast of the year, a new teacher was introduced. Professor Hamilton, the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher for the year. But that wasn't all. Max watched from the Slytherin table as Lando walked into the hall, his arm around a pretty girl. He knew Lando had other friends, had seen him with this girl a few times. But he didn't know her, not at all.

It was indescribable how pretty she was. Max's eyes followed as she sat herself down between Lando and his other Hufflepuff friend, Max (Fewtrell).

Max tried really hard not to stare, but it was damn near impossible. She was his very first crush, and he didn't even know her name.

For the few classes he shared with Hufflepuff, Max tried to get Lando to tell him her name. Maybe it was because Lando wasn't the sharpest tool in the box, but he just wasn't getting it. Max was being as obvious as he could be, without saying anything at all.

The day he learnt her name was the same day that he watched her run up to Chatles Leclerc and plant a kiss on his cheek. Maxs face fell. She was his first crush, and she was with somebody else. That was just his luck.

She was with Charles, that was clear. Max saw the way he placed his arm over her shoulders while they talked with Lando. So, why the hell was Lando introducing her to Max in the middle of charms?

She held her hand out to him, a lovely smile on her face. "I can't believe you two haven't met before," Lando said as he sat on the table.

Max couldn't quite believe he was shaking her hand. He had no clue what to say to her and, in a desperate bid to make a good first impression, he made a terrible one

But it didn't matter. The next time Max saw her was care of magical creatures with professor Brown. As with every lesson, Nikita made an ass of himself. Max couldn't help but shut him down, and that seemed to impress her.

But Nikita didn't know when to quit. It was his fault the beast struck him. It was his fault he'd sustained such an injury to his arm.

It was all he could talk about for the next few weeks. Max didn't know what would happen to the beast that had 'attacked' Nikita. Nikita boasted about a trial, about the beast being put to death. Of course, Max didn't believe it, not until he saw her crying about it.

She was too pretty to cry, Max thought as he watched her across the hall. She sat at the Gryffindor table, leaning against Charles as he rubbed her back. That should have been him, Max couldn't help but selfishly think.

On the day of the beasts execution, Max followed her and Charles down to Professor Brown's hut. He stayed behind them, watching as she swung her fist towards Nikita. Good, he thought. It was what that prick deserved.

She and Charles didn't notice him as they stepped into Professor Brown's hut. But Professor Brown did. "Come on in, Max," he said, stepping aside to let her and Charles see him.

Charles didn't scowl, like Max had expected. He gave him a sad smile as she stepped towards him, holding him. "It's awful, Max," she sobbed against his shirt. "They're going to kill him because Nikita is an asshole."

Max stood there, looked at Charles over the top of the head. There was a minute before he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed slightly.

"I found something of yours," said Professor Brown as he guided her away from Max. He grabbed a shoe box and opened it up, revealing her pet rat.

She didn't show up to Hogwarts with an owl, cat, rat or toad. This rat she had found at the station and, in a bid of desperation, she picked him up. He was so tame, she figured he had to be a magical rat.

Before they knew it, they were being ushered out of the hut by Professor Brown. They hid behind shrubbery as Professor Schumacher, the head master, brought Bernie Ecclestone, the minister, and the executioner, down to the hut.

As soon as the three of them had their backs to the students, Max and Charles got her back to the castle. They got halfway there before the sound of the axe hitting something stopped them.

Her gasp rang in the boys ears and she turned towards Charles, burying her face in his chest as she cried. "It's okay, chérie. I've got you."

But, suddenly, he didn't have her. Suddenly she was on the floor, screaming as a vicious, hairy beast dragged her towards the womping willow, its jaws clamped around her leg. Charles screamed her name as he ran after her, but the tree fought back.

Fuck, Max thought as he ran after Charles. The tree attacked them however it could, keeping them away from the tunnel the beast had dragged her down.

Charles dodged those he could, but one smacked him in the chest and he went flying back, the air knocked from his lungs when he landed. Max had gotten closer to the tunnel entrance. He jumped over the trees limbs when they came towards him, getting to the tunnel entrance in minutes.

But he couldn't leave Charles behind. The tree didn't fight him as he ran back towards him. "Come on," Max grunted, grabbing Charles's hand and pulling him to his feet.

The tree once again tried to stop them. Max kept a hold of Charles's hand, pulling him around the attacking limbs. They ducked and dodged and jumped. But one limb managed to knock them both over. Max immediately grabbed the limb and Charles grabbed a hold of him.

They were lifted into the air, the tree trying to throw them off. But it was doing do in a pattern, one Max easily deciphered. "Hold on!" He shouted to Charles, who just squeezed him tighter.

At the right moment Max let go of the branch, falling into the tunnel entrance. Charles was right behind him, landing on top of him. "Sorry," Charles said, taking his hand and helping him up. He pulled his wand from his back pocket and held it out in front of him. "Lumos," he whispered and the tunnel lit up.

Holding his wand out in front of them, Charles led the way through the tunnel. They followed paw prints until they weren't paw prints anymore, but feet, the soles of battered shoes against the dirt.

When they got to a set of old and unstable steps, Max and Charles looked at each other. She was up there, she had to be.

"Nox," Charles whispered. The first step creaked under his foot and he nervously looked to Max. But they climbed the stairs anyway. The closer they got to the top of the stairs, they more they could hear her pained gasps. The two of them hurried.

Charles couldn't stop himself from kicking the door open. "Charles, Max, no!" She cried, grasping her bloody leg. "It's a trap, he's an animagus!"

As the door swung shut behind them, Max and Charles turned around. There he was, his striped jumpsuit tattered and dirty. The smile he wore was grim and his blonde hair was long and disgusting.

Immediately, Max and Charles put their bodies between her and Rosberg. The escaped convict's smile only grew as he took a step forward. "Move aside." His eyes were focused on Max. "It's not you that I want."

But Max stood in front of them protectively. "If you want to get to either of them, you have to go through me."

Rosberg laughed. "Stupid boy," he said through his laugh. "I don't want either of them, I want him," he said, pointing at her.

Her body tembled as she held her mangled leg. The rat in her pocket was squeaking uncontrollably. "I-I'm a girl!" She cried.

But Rosberg let out an exasperated sigh. He lifted his wand.

"Expelliarmus!"

Professor Hamilton, that years defence against the dark arts teacher, stood in the door way. It wasn't a surprise that none of them heard him coming up the stairs, not with the way adrenaline was running through them.

Professor Hamilton looked at the kids and then at Rosberg. And then he dropped his wand and stepped forwards, pulling him into his embrace. "Good to see you, old friend," he said, clapping him on the back.

"What the fuck?" Max couldn't help himself. He held his wand out in front of him. "I trusted you, and this entire time you've been working with him? You've been on my dad's side, too?"

"Max, you don't understand," Hamilton replied, holding his hand up. "This entire time I thought that Nico did all of those terrible things. But then Charles came to me and said he saw someone on the map that I believed to be dead. Sergio Perez."

"Well, the map was wrong, then!" Charles called. He had migrated over to her, crouching by her side. She wasn't okay and there was nothing he could do.

Hamilton shook his head. "The map never lies," he said. "It could only mean one thing, Charles. That Checo was alive and he was the reason your parents are dead."

Slowly, Charles stood up. He pulled his wand from his pocket as he walked forward. "That's not true," he said. "It couldn't have been him because he died. Rosberg killed him and all they could find was-"

"A finger! Chopped it off and escaped into the sewers, he did," Rosberg finished.

Hamilton looked past them as Charles tried to process everything in his mind. "Your rat, please," said Hamilton as he looked at her.

"What? No! What do you want with him?" She cried as she pulled him from her pocket and held him close to her chest. But Professor Hamilton was still advancing, reaching for the rat.

It was Charles that stopped him. He held his hand up, asking Professor Hamilton to just give him a moment, before crouching down to her height. "Please, chérie. I need you to trust me," he said, reaching for the rat.

For just a moment, she stared at Charles. He thought he was going to have to pry the rat from her hands and lose her trust forever. But she willingly gave the rat to Charles, who handed it to Professor Hamilton.

"We do this together," said Rosberg as he grabbed his wand from the floor.

"Expelliarmus!"

Once again, Rosbergs wand went flying out of his hands. Hamilton kept ahold of the rat as they wheeled around to find the head of Slytherin house.

"I told Schumacher," Alonso began as he walked into the room. "I said from the minute you arrived that you were trouble. And here you are, helping your old friend into the castle. Well, Lewis, you can have Nico's old cell once the dementors give him that kiss. I've heard they're looking forward to it. Got a cell in the tower waiting for you."

"Oh, piss off, little Nando no mates," Nico spat, but suddenly Fernando had his wand against his neck. Instantly, Nico stilled.

Fernando turned his attention to the kids. "You three, get back to the castle."

But they weren't going anywhere. Max knew it, Charles knew it, and she couldn't move.

Fernando quickly turned his attention back to Lewis and Nico. Before he could begin talking, Charles had raised his wand. "Expelliarmus!"

It was just meant to disarm Alonso, not send him flying back into the wall, knocking him out cold. "Shit, Charles," Max said through something of a grin. "You attacked a teacher."

But Charles didn't care about that. "Show me Perez," he demanded.

Hamilton and Rosberg were only too happy to oblige. Hamilton placed the rat onto the floor. He and Rosberg pointed their wands at the rat, sending silent spells in his direction.

The rat kept going, seemingly dodging the magic. But then, he wasn’t a rat at all. It wasn't clear which one cast the incantation, but a small-ish man in tattered clothing stood in the place of the rat. The most damning piece of evidence? His missing finger.

Charles couldn't quite believe his eyes. So Rosberg hadn't been the cause of his parents death. It had been Perez all along. Rosberg was an innocent nan, wrongfully imprisoned for all of those years.

"We do this together," said Rosberg. Hamilton nodded and, together, they pointed their wands at Perez.

"No, no, no!" He cried, scurrying across the floor. He quickly moved past Charles,towards her. "Girl, sweet girl," he said as she attempted to shuffle away from him. But, with her leg, she couldn't get far enough. "You won't let them hurt me, will you?"

Max pushed Perez away from her. "Leave her alone," he said through something of a snarl.

"Don't kill him," Charles said as he looked to Hamilton and Rosberg. "Take him to the castle. The dementors can have him and you could go free," he said, eying Rosberg.

Rosberg couldn't quite believe it. He cast a spell that bound Perez and lifted Alonso into the air.

"Oh, chérie," Charles whispered. He leaned forward to kiss her forehead before lifting her into his arms. She let out a small cry as Charles adjusted her, her injured leg brushing against his arm. But she locked her arms around his neck.

Max led the way. His wand was out, light coming from it as tye group of seven made their way back through the tunnel towards the school. Periodically Max turned around, looking at Charles as he carried her. That should have been him, he thought again.

Max climbed out of the tunnel first. He turned taking her body from Charles. One by one they climbed out of the tunnel. She stood on her uninjured leg as Alonso's still unconscious body was placed on the ground. Rosberg and Hamilton wandered a little way away from the group,the two of them looking up at the castle.

"How're you feeling, chérie?" Charles asked. He hardly called her by any other name. She gave a weak, pained smile. That was all Charles needed before he was pulling her body into his own, letting her rest against him.

Suddenly, Hamilton made a noise. A low, guttural noise, something inhuman. He looked away from the castle, his jaw slack and his eyes distant as he stared at the moon. The full moon.

"Shit," Rosberg hissed. Max stood to attention, placing himself between the changing werewolf and his friends. "Lewis, not now!" Nico cried wrapping his arms around him, as if trying to hold him together. "Any time but now!"

But Hamilton was still changing. His limbs were elongating, a thin layer of hair covering his skin. His clothes were shredded from his skin as his snout formed and hid ears sharpened.

Realising that he could do nothing, Nico let go out Lewis. He transformed into his animagus form, putting himself between the werewolf and the students.

At first, Hamilton barely moved. His breathing was heavy as he took just a moment to recover from the transformation.

As best as she could, she hopped forwards. "Chérie," Charles hissed in warning, trying to keep a hold of her.

She couldn't push him away, couldn't stand on her own as she looked at the werewolf. "Professor?" She called. "Professor Hamilton?"

The beast raised its head. The howl it let out echoed around the castle grounds. It was enough to rouse Professor Alonso from his temporary time out. "You!" He cried, pointing an accusing finger at Charles. Charles, who didn't much care, Charles, who was more concerned with getting her as close to him as possible.

When Alonso turned and around saw the beast, he threw his arms protectively around the three of them, keeping them behind him. There wasn't much else he could do but watch, his body shielding them, as Nico jumped at the beast.

The werewolf immediately threw him off, but Nico came back, this time doing damage. But again, the werewolf tossed him to one side. This time, Nico didn't get back up.

With his threat neutralised, the werewolf turned his attention back to the four of them. He got down onto all fours and slowly stalked forward. His slow pace only seemed to indicate that he was toying with them, that, no matter what they did, they were his prey.

Suddenly, from way in the distance, there was a howl. Hamilton turned towards it. He howled once more himself before he took off, running in the direction the howl had come from and completely ignoring his once prey.

As soon as Hamilton was gone, Charles passed her to Max. "Get her to the hospital wing!" He shouted as he took off running.

"Leclerc!" Alonso bellowed, but he made no move to go after him. "Get back here!"

But Charles was gone, disappearing off to wherever Nico was.

Her arms locked around Max's neck as he picked her up. Suddenly he was thinking quidditch for the useful muscles it had given him. "I'm sorry to put you through all of this," she whispered as her head fell against his shoulder.

He shook his head. "You didn't put me through anything," he replied. He so desperately wanted to kiss her head like he had seen Charles do. "Besides, if I wasn't here Professor Alonso would be carrying you. Do you really want that?" He asked and she let out a little giggle.

A small amount of pride blossomed in his chest.

At the hospital wing Max was asked to leave. But he refused. There was no way in hell he was just going to leave her. It was the only time he threw his name around to get his way.

At some point in the night Charles was brought into the hospital wing. He looked awful, like he had tried to drive a race car after suffering from appendicitis. But the nurse had confirmed that he was alive.

Max didn't sleep much that night. He stayed up, watching over his friends, recounting the events. It wasn't Nico Rosberg who had killed all of those people in the name of his father. It was Sergio Perez. Perez had gotten away in the commotion of their teacher being a fucking werewolf. It was crazy, but Max didn't know how he hadn't spotted it soon. Lupin took a few days a month off, Max just didn't notice that they were around the time of a full moon.

But Perez had gotten away, his father's loyal dog had gotten away, and Max would never forgive himsed.

He didn't know when he had fallen asleep. But, when he woke up, Pierre and Esteban sat around Charles. "I can't believe you went with him instead of us," Pierre muttered as he gestured to Max. Max simply sat up straighter, scowling in return.

"He saved her," was all Charles said as he nodded towards the girl sleeping beside Max.

The three of them continued to talk, and Max tried his best not to listen in. But it was harder than it looked when he constantly heard his name being dropped. They could fucking talk about him, he didn't care. By this point, he just didn't care.

When the doors flew open and Professor Schumacher strode in, Esteban and Pierre stood up. "Esteban, Pierre," the professor said. They said goodbye to Charles and walked past their head teacher. But, before they could get too far, Professor Schumacher grabbed a hold of Pierre. What he said to Pierre was too hushed for anybody else to hear, but it had him pulling something from beneath his shirt and striding towards the boys.

"Max, Charles," he said and Max left his chair, coming to stand beside Charles. Wordlessly, Professor Schumacher placed something over their heads.

Max picked up the necklace. "A time turner?"

"What's a time turner?" Asked Charles.

But Professor Schumacher didn't answer his question. "Two turns should do it," he said. "And you should be able to set everything right. Remember, don't let anybody see you," he said and strode out of the hospital wing.

Max turned the time turner. "How on earth did Pierre get one of these?" He asked as he spun it twice, and the room around them moved backwards. Professor Alonso carried Charles out of the hospital wing and Max took her back outside. Other students came and left, time still turning around them.

When it, at last, stilled, Max pulled the time turner from around their necks and placed it in his pocket. "Come on," he said as he grabbed Charles's hand.

As he pulled him out of the hospital wing, Max checked the time on his watch. "It's 5PM, where were we at five?"

Charles took a moment to think. "Ugh, I know I was taking her down to see Zac," he answered. "She punched Nikita."

Knowing exactly where to go, Max pulled Charles along. He pulled him through the halls, towards where they already were. But, suddenly, Max stopped. "Wha-" Charles began, but Max put his hand over his mouth, silencing him as he pulled him into an alcove.

The Max from before, the one that had been following Charles and her, turned for just a second. But, when she swung at Nikita, it distracted him long enough for the Max from the future to pull Charles outside.

"Max, what the hell?" Charles hissed as they watched Nikita and his friends run away. Charles from the past had his hand on the small of her back as he moved her along, heading to Zacs, Professor Brown's, hut. Max from the past followed. "That's us!"

"You're incredibly observant," Max quipped as he grabbed his hand once more. "I suppose you can see now you've cut your hair."

Charles let out a scoff, but Max was pulling him along once again, into the woods just opposite Zac's hut.

Nobody saw them, nobody but Rocky, the hippogriff. He raised his head and snorted, but quickly went back to sleep. "We can save him, too," Charles realised. "Him and Nico."

He strode forward and sent to grab the chain that kept Rocky tethered to the garden, but Max stopped him. "Professor Schumacher and the minister need to see him first, or you'll get Fred arrested," he whispered. Charles clenched his fists at his sides, but he nodded.

They watched as Fred pulled the rat from the box and handed it to her. There he was, Sergio Perez. Max and Charles looked at each other, their thoughts much the same. But they held back, and not just because the headmaster and the minister were coming.

They watched as the three of them left the hut. As the minister and Schumacher conversed with Fred, Charles and Max ran into the vegetable garden and grabbed a hold of Rocky's chain. "Come on, Rocky," Charles hissed, but the creature insisted on sleeping. It was only when Max bribed him with food that he followed them into the woods.

A sliver of satisfaction ran through them when the execution brought his axe down onto a bit of wood in anger. Rocky was safe, and all they had to do was wait.

It was surreal, watching everything that had happened. They watched as Nico, the dog, grabbed her leg and dragged her beneath the tree. They watched as they struggled to follow her.

"Can I ask you something?" Max enquired as he sat on the ground beside him. Rocky was behind them, playing in the trees. When Charles nodded his head, he continued. "Last year, you asked me if I opened the chamber. Do you really think I'm that much of a monster? Do you really think I'm that much like my dad?"

Charles let out an audible sigh. "I feel awful for that," he said as he lent back against the tree behind him. "All I know about your dad is that he's the reason my parents are dead. I'd met him in first year and, well, I still have nightmares about it. Of I had known you last year like I do now, I wouldn't have dreamed of blaming you."

They talked, actually talked, until Professor Hamilton came to the tree. "Did you have any idea he was a werewolf?" Max asked and Charles shook his head.

He pulled the time turner from his pocket. "Do you know why Pierre would have that?" Charles asked as he reached out to touch it.

Max shrugged his shoulders. "It makes sense, though. Pierre has been in so many classes this year, more than he should have had time for. This must be how he's being going to them all."

Next, Professor Alonso came by, and then, minutes later, they were all making their way out of the tree. "Thanks for looking after her," said Charles as he watched himself hand her to Max.

Max waved him off.

But it wasn't long before Professor Hamilton started his transformation. "Fuck," Max whispered as he watched Nico try and fail to protect them. What happened when they were up there? Something had howled, but no howl was coming. "Shit, get ready to run," he said to Charles before cupping his hands around his mouth and letting out a mighty howl.

The werewolf looked, but he didn't immediately begin running towards them. So, Max did it again.

The beast howled back and suddenly it was running towards them. "We're going to die out here," said Charles.

"Yep," Max agreed and the two boys took off running. But they didn't get very far, not before the werewolf caught up to them.

Their hearts were beating, blood so loud in their ears that they were sure the werewolf could hear them. Max squeezed his eyes shut, unable to keep them opened. He was incredibly grateful when Charles pulled him further around the tree they were hiding behind.

All they could hear was their werewolf Professor sniffing around behind them. It was the only indication that they were somewhat safe. But then, the sniffing stopped and the growls began. The two turned, almost paralysed with fear as the werewolf stood to its full height. "Professor," Charles began, but he was no longer human.

He moved towards them and they tried to back up. He raised a large, clawed hand, but he didn't get a chance to bring it down, to strike them. Not before Rocky jumped in front of them, using his large talons to fend off the beast.

Whimpering, the werewolf ran off. "Go Rocky!" Charles called as the hippogriff pranced in front of him.

Max checked the time on his watch. "Come on," he said, once again reaching for Charles's hand. Over the course of the evening he'd noticed just how much he'd enjoyed that, enjoyed holding Charles's hand. "We've got to get back to the castle."

But Charles ripped his hand away from Max. "We need to go and save Nico!" He called before he took off running. "Someone was there, Max! Someone cast a patronus and fended off the dementors! I need to know who it is!"

But, when they got to the lake, nobody was there. Just Charles from the past cradling Nico's body as dementors fed off of them. "Charles!" Max called.

"They're coming to help! I know they are!"

But Charles from the past and Nico looked terrible, close to the end. "Charles, you're dying. And nobody's coming," he said softly.

Charles bit his lip as he looked at Max. He sucked in one steady breath and ran over to the edge of the lake. He raised his wand, drew in a deep breath and bellowed, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

It was an incredible sight. Max knew Charles was capable of some serious magic, he just didn't realise it was this serious. All of the dementors left the scene just in time for Professor Alonso to lift the unconscious Charles and Nico away from the scene.

Nico, they could still save Nico. "Come on!" Charles shouted as he climbed onto Rocky's back. Taking Max's hand, he pulled him onto Rocky's back and he secured his arms around him.

Rocky flew them out of the woods. "Where would Alonso put Nico?" Max shouted over the sounds of the wind.

"When we were in the shack, he said something about the tower," Charles called back.

That was exactly where Rocky took them. As he landed them outside of the cell, Max slipped from Rocky's back and cast a spell to open the door.

Immediately, Nico ran out to them. "Thank you," he said to them. "Both of you. If it wasn't for your bravery, I would have lost my life."

"Quick, take Rocky and go, before the dementors come," Charles said. He helped Nico onto the Hippogriff's back. Immediately they took off, and Charles and Max began running, heading back to the hospital wing.

When they got there, Professor Schumacher was pulling the doors shut behind him. "We did it," said Charles, his hands on his knees. "We saved both of them."

Professor Schumacher looked at the both of them. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he said and took his leave, leaving the boys standing there.

Charles released a breath. "I can't believe we actually did it," he said, grinning at Max. "Should we go and tell her all about it?"

Max nodded his head and Charles pushed his way into the hospital wing. He watched, frozen in place as he strode across the room, over to her. Suddenly, Max didn't feel so jealous as he watched Charles run his fingers through her hair.

That was when he realised, he liked boys, too.

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