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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years ago

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Could I request a Jaskier x female reader where the reader is a princess who during daylight, is condemned to be a bear, after being cursed by an evil sorcerer At night she become a human again. Which the curse can only be broken by a man (who would be Jaskier) who pledges his heart solely to the reader (something like true love’s kiss). Please and thank you!!!

Bruin

jaskier x reader

masterlist

Warnings; mentions of witcher killing, mentions of death and angst, curses, nudity, some fluff, implied smut

“G-Geralt.” Jaskier’s voice shivered, as he saw a great mountain of brunette fur, wading through the long grass, heavy breathing exhibiting from its wet snout. “There’s a bear!”

“If you’re that scared, try to speak quieter.” The Witcher’s speech remained monotone, as he continued walking, leaving the bard to catch up with his hardy footsteps. “We need to leave before nightfall, that is when the true monster is unleashed from the bruin vessel.”

“You kill monsters, we’ll be fine.” The bard waved off, though he was terrified, and Geralt was all but convinced with his dismissal. “We will, won’t we Geralt?”

“It’s bad luck to remain out here at night, it’s an old wives tale, however, no one survives the night out here. Not after the disappearance of the princess of Arafell.” Jaskier remembered that tale, he had even seen the princess at a banquet once when they were both young in age.

Neither of them had the opportunity to converse with one another that evening, it was the night she had ran away. and he certainly had regretted never asking her dance. Before that though, they had often strode through the gardens hand in hand, conversing on the beauty of the petals that veiled around the stems, and she, unlike most people, listened to his descriptive forms of poetry. Back then, he had been shy, and not to mention, she was of sought after royal blood. That evening was the last that anyone from the kingdom had ever been seen, after the slumber of eternity wept over their souls. One thing he severely remembered though, was that she loved dandelions.

The princess had ran away, leaving the king and queen in search of someone that could find her, and thus they hired a private sorcerer to complete their wishes. But instead of seeking out the lost girl, the old man took the gold and the lives of old, wallowing the land in distress that clambered into a delving of madness.

A shout bellowed from the bear, and Jaskier found him to “How long will it be til we reach the borders?”

“The bad luck will loom over us Jaskier, we will not make it out of here in the span of the next countless hours. There will be a moon in the sky, but perhaps we’ll be able to seek out cover in the old guard’s tower.”

“Where are we Geralt?” The brown haired poet feared to be met with the answer “What makes you think that we’ll survive the night?!”

“This is what remains of Arafell.” Stated the white haired hunter, as he continued to plod through the thick foliage beneath his dark boots. He stepped on the dull green life form, not encouraged to pursue any further into the depths as he heard the destination that they were travelling through.

“Arafell, great.” Huffed the irritating bard, clutching his lute as he spoke the haunting name. “There’s no need to be afraid, when you’re in the land of torn bodies, because the witcher is by your side. He’ll slash and dice, protect the mice, from the darkness that falls from above. The people are dead, I am filled with dread, in the land of Ar-afellll.”

“Stop singing.” Whenever there was any fault present in their adventures together, Jaskier had a tendency, wallowing similar like a pie without filling to sing. It shrouded Geralt with epitomised frustration, his betrothed follower sure knew how to pull his strings, it was as though he were a moral lute, a practice run of socialisation for the noble’s son.

“Sorry.” Apologised the traveller, with a shrug encompassed by a spark of coldness affecting his posture. There was a breeze, filled with the pinching of icicles in the air, and it clawed through his clothes, clashing with the meat blanketed warmth of his bones. “It’s just- we’re in bloody Arafell, or what remains of it, and you are so calm. Have you maybe perhaps forgotten what happened here?!”

“No. I was here when it queen Ara and her kingdom fell. And that bear has lurked every inch of these demolished castle lands searching for scraps, and if you cannot tell, it is almost night fall, and she has come up sufficiently short of anything, for all these decades.”

The listener frowned, bears did not live so long. It was a curious prospect, it remained loyal to these grounds, although it was empty. There had to be a reason why, a pattern that supposed why it, or she as Geralt had divulged, remained to lurk in the midst of the overgrown forestry. And then another thought (yes, Jaskier had the ability to do that despite what his protective travel mate may have wondered), hit him, like a bolt of lightning.

“Um, Geralt, where is the bear?” He gulped, hearing the rustling of the thick foliage metres behind them. The moon scourged the sky with its global presence, inducing another shot of ambient fear through Jaskier’s veins. “It was-“

“Shut up a moment.” It was almost impossible half the time to silence Jaskier, but this time, he actually obliged the command. Geralt drew his sword, the one that glistened a predominate silver and was made from the compound, clutching the handle in his vice and skilled grip, as his feet took him closer to the imposter that was imbedded within the weeds.

“Oh.” Jaskier covered his eyes, he couldn’t look as Geralt pointed the weapon at the beasts throat; a whimper escaped it as Geralt took a step back, alerting his companion. “Kill it Geralt, it’s a bear, it’s going to kill us.”

“It was a bear.” Geralt elaborated as he watched the beast transform and lose its course coat of brown fur, turning into a less monstrous beast. It was only a girl, with unruly and wild hair that was matted in all directions, her face contorted into fear. “Of whom are you, my lady?”

“A witcher.” It trailed from her lips as a whisper, her tone alerting Jaskier that it indeed was not a bear, rather it was a woman, laid on the forest ground, in nothing but her own layers of skin. His eyes widened for a moment, until he earned an elbow in the rib from his friend for his long and convicted ogling. “I have only heard legends but...

“You speak english?” Jaskier wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, hinting at his subsequent misunderstanding of the situation. “but you were a bear?!” This was all growing more confusion with each passing second, there were too many angles of the world.

“I’m cursed.” It was an easy consequence to admit, for the lady of the worlds already lived through them. “Each day, I am forced to pad about in the brute body of a bruin, a sorcerer brought by darkness himself to this dimension damned me to this abomination, his name was-“

“Lament.” From hearing that name, the woman on the ground was taken aback as the women, trying to prevail some decency, attempted to cover her breasts with her arms, as she crossed her legs over one another. “Your parents sent me to find you, lady. I came up empty handed in my search for you, there was no trail that I managed to find, nothing that would point in your direction. And that night, as I returned with short of nothing of any news of your whereabouts, Lament was there.”

“He killed them all, didn’t he. My family?” The answer didn’t require any verification from Geralt, the solemn, yet usual expression on the Witcher’s face was all the confirmation that she needed. “Of course he did, he’s a poisonous shadow, when he finds something he wants, he takes away its home, so that it can’t run back to the hearth whence it came from. I regret every running away from home...”

“Wait a moment.” This was all beginning to add up in some mind boggling way. Jaskier flitted his gaze aside for a moment as Geralt pulled a fine blanket from his luggage, knowingly seeing the movement out of the corner of his curious eye that she was pulling the material that conducted warmth over her shoulders, and across her sachet of flaunted skin.

"Shut up Jaskier." Instantaneously stated the bard, whom had returned his cerulean gaze back upon the y/h/c woman, depositing a composition of interest to her form.

"You're the princess of Arafell, aren't you. Y/n, it's you, isn't it?" Y/n's expression was one of shock; how did this man know of her identity? She understood how the witcher did, though with considering he was condemned with the duty of finding her. The brunette man was slightly familiar, and so he revealed why that was. “it’s Julian.” Jaskier held his hand to his chest, almost hurt that you didn’t recognise him, but it had been years, so many, none of which had been kind to you. “My name is Julian Alfred Pankratz.”

“Dandelion!” The reprised title spun from y/n's tongue, remembering the nickname that she had given the now gentleman all those years ago, when he was nothing more than a persisting boy that made her flash an unashamed laughter in the midst of poised quality showrooms of noble gatherings. "I remember you." She dwelled on the fact, if she weren't clothed in only a shrill and frayed blanket that was pebbled with small dots of soil, from where it had been laid on the ground, y/n surely would have jumped up and spun her arms around his 'sexy goose' neck.

"You've got to be kidding me, it is just my luck that the pair of you know each other." Geralt crossed his arms, shaking his sleek silver head, being deprived of attention as he spoke. "Is there any way to get yourself out to get you out of this prospected curse of turning into a bear, y/n?"

"To be betrothed to a man, confirmed with a kiss resonating true love, though, nobody with any sense would put themselves in that position for me, there is no wealth to my name anymore, nor is there relevance with my heritage, for there is nothing that remains, as you have confirmed for me. This man must certainly be one of a kind, for he has to pledge his loyalty solely to me, forbidding himself from ever being with another woman again."

The mention of a lack of sense reminded Geralt of one man in particular, and he was stood right beside him. But it couldn't have been Jaskier, of all people, and- Geralt found himself overcome with dread as the bard stepped forward, crunching his shoed feet into the withered grass, closer to the rediscovered princess.

"I have waited my whole life to see you again." Oh god, here he went, Geralt thought. "When we were younger, I was infatuated with you, and here we are, united again in a union. If my betrothal means nothing then you will remain in this shrine of gloom, but to me, it would mean everything to me."

"Y/N come on, have some sense, it-" There was lack of reason for Geralt to continue speaking, as y/n sprung up, the blanket flowing down from her shoulders, baring her body cold to the crisp air, as her hands clasped both sides of Jaskier's face, and pressed her lips to his.

The witcher cringed, turning away as the pair practically ate the other's face, like starved animals that had been distanced for many years, which in their case was true. "Do you know if the curse is broken, is there any indicator if so?"

A hum fell from y/n's mouth as Jaskier's hand traced the curve of her spine, causing Geralt to scoff. That was the only response he earned, and to a high stake, it disgusted him. "I think I'm just gonna let you two have some time to yourselves, I guess we will see in the morning if you're being mawled by a bear you flippant."

And thus he walked away, leaving the two to pursue their primitive instincts, under the blessed moon, and on the routed curfew on the dark and dead land of Arafell.

#jaskier imagine #jaskier x reader #jaskier x you #jaskier fluff #jaskier fic #jaskier oneshot #jaskier x y/n #jaskier imagines #jaskier one shot #jaskier fanfiction #Jaskier reader insert #the witcher x you #The witcher jaskier x reader #the witcher x reader #joey batey x you #joey batey x reader #the witcher fluff

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prof-peach · 4 years ago

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My little kirlia loves to have tea in a garden, so I've been thinking of planting some flowers around a little table outside, I'm not very good at it myself though, and do tend to be forgetful. Any recommendations on easy to care, yet pretty flowers? Do any flowers/plants have special effects on Pokemon that I should be concern/excited about?

ok, so we had a little chat about the weather you get, and I now know you have cold-ish climates, but a good bit of sun, so this is what I can suggest for you and your dear partner, to get the most out of your garden without too much work. SO, first things first, Grasses. They come in so many shapes and forms, all different colours, heights and can often tough out even the most bitter winter. The only real work I find you have to do with ornamental grasses is at the very end of winter, cut them back to the ground, and they’ll grow back nice and lush come spring when the sun starts to shine. People cut these grasses down quickly because they see them as scruffy, but I encourage you to avoid this, as the grass itself is so important to small bug types, and feeding bird pokemon who need nesting material, grubs to eat, and generally cover from predators. plus bonus, less work for you.

Grasses can create a privacy screen too, so if you're overlooked by neighbours, or your garden is very open and gets a lot of harsh wind, then plating tall tough grasses will not only give you incredible textures, but also some well deserved cover from prying eyes or bitter winds. They also help smaller less tough plants shelter, and can help keep the other things you plant in the space safer. They naturally clump and spread, and you really don’t have to do much other than sit back and watch their beautiful seed heads blow in the wind, creating movement, sound, and giving a great depth of texture to any garden. Plus who doesn't like to see sweet little pidgey feeding on seeds?

Pampas Grass: Super tall, beautiful foliage, real winners, Extra tough plants. ^

Zebra Grass, tall, dense, beautiful stripes, easy and tough ^

for a more Tropical vibe, perhaps try some bamboo ^

some folks are nervous about it because its fast growing and harder to control, you can stop its spread by planting in containers, OR putting bamboo into the ground, but line where you want it to grow with pond liner, a thick durable plastic, that the plant will struggle to grow through. If you plant a few in a lined trench, they'll fill that space in no time, giving you a thick wall of tough evergreen grass, that literally can be left all year round. makes for pretty foliage in cut flower mixes too.

Ok thats the backdrop laid out for you, now the fun stuff and colour! So heres some of my favs, which i know come in a range of variants.

^ Hardy Hibiscus, a shrub, known for their reds, whites, pinks and purples, and yellows, with lovely foliage and a mass of flowers big enough for the combee, cutifly and even butterfree to frequent. they arent overly sweet smelling but very pretty and need little care once established. You can even plant them in pots and they’d be pretty happy if you just feed them.

Hydrangea ^, known for pinks and purples, blues, and whites, their flowers (when not fed specific colouration feed) will change based on how acidic or alkali your soil is. If you want the flowers to not change colour, then get a white one (which is far prettier in my opinion haha). The white ones don’t change colour and will stay no matter your soil type. You can get special feed for them to keep them a certain colour, but its a bit of a faff and not for everyone. these plants can be delicate (see Hydrangea ‘limelight’, or ‘bluebird’) or bold and big (Hydrangea ‘big daddy�� or ‘annabelle’). Should you have a wall and some cash to splash, you can even get a climbing Hydrangea, which is quite stunning.

^ Lilac. Tough, easy to care for, and SO sweet smelling you’d think you’d died and gone to heaven. They come in whites, pinks and purples mostly, and have a robust nature you’d not expect from such a sweet smelling thing. I cannot stress how good and tough these plants are, and once established they can get incredibly aged and majestic.

These shrubs can be controlled to be small, or left to turn to large shrubs, depending on the space you're working with. I would advise putting in your larger plants first, then slowly adding smaller bits, as the big stuff creates the frame for your garden, its like putting bones in first, to support and hold together the spaces form.

after this, its all down to small floral bits. you mentioned tropical vibes up top, so i’d say go for some greens in there too, ferns and large leaved hostas are pretty cold tolerant (hostas can also flower which is lovely), and give a real feel for depthy jungle and texture, and the more green you get, the more the flowers pop against it.

for ground cover and softer smaller plants, think hardy Geraniums, maybe some hardy shrub Fuchias, a personal fav for its fearless defiance to the cold is Erysimum, and then you have age old winners like Aquilegia, Yarrow, and Scabiosa. Do a google, check out the options and hopefully head to your local nursery to pick a few bits up. i’d suggest planting up when the ground doesn't get frost in the morning, to give your new plants the best chance. water whatever you plant into the ground thoroughly once, and only do so again should you get a particularly hot summer day.

All the plants i’ve mentioned are tough as old boots if you make sure they're ‘Hardy’ thats the word to look on labels with anything you plan to put in. There aren't any plants that I know of that affect the Ralts line thoroughly AND fit the vibe you were gong for that we discussed, but i do know they're easily calmed by scented plants, so go to a local centre, or even public gardens and take some time to smell the flowers. If they plant it in your local park, and your pokemon enjoys it, chances are it can survive your weather and rough soil type. I find the Ralts line is very in tune with their trainers, and so if you enjoy the garden, if you like the sound of the grass in the wind, or the smell of the flowers, or buzz of combee floating by, then they'll join in and be content.

You mentioned your Kirlia likes tea? grab some mint and pop that in a pot for her, don’t put it in the ground, it goes wild and rampant. Also Chamomile is a rather hardy plant to have, and she may enjoy to learn the process of caring for and using that delicious little herby plant. It has sweet daisy flowers and does well in sunny spots or pots, and smells divine, some people even use it as an alternative for a lawn.

Pleeeeeease let me know how it goes, and if any of these names or phrases seem daunting, I am here to help, and can promise you i’ve given pretty easy starting points, and ALL of these plants can handle being in containers or in the dirt, in exposed positions, and none need rigorous feeding or care, other than the odd water, and the dead flowers trimmed off. If you get stuck message in, Gardening is kind of my vibe, and i’d hate to think you’d get a little overwhelmed. Plants move so slowly, you get a lot of time to fix issues and mistake (i know i make a lot of them haha) and they're also very forgiving, so don’t feel like you have to know a lot to get started, its a hobby that gets us outdoors, and brings great joy when the things we care for flower and give results, and we can learn from our decisions if they should fail and die.

GOOD LUCK!

#i went OFF #pokemon #gardening #prof.peach #peach talks

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whatsmyline-pb · 3 years ago

Photo

I guess I’m now writing a modern T/A series based on ridiculous Tom Hardy photos (and eventually CM pics too?) Here’s part two:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32103217

Series: Inspired

Work: Business as Usual

Summary: A modern Tommy/Alfie riff on those ridiculous TH MySpace photos.

They say to never mix business with pleasure and this is an anthem that Alfie could give fuck-all about; he is more than happy to spit in the face of conventionality and its ridiculous adages. Tommy, on the other hand, is not so keen to shed such things, is annoyingly determined to maintain some semblance of professionalism.

He shrugs off Alfie’s hand with narrowed eyes when it lingers too long on his shoulder during meetings. Shoots off deadly glares at the subtle innuendos Alfie throws his way when they meet with potential clients. Greets him with stony, infuriated silences when they reconvene later in the evening for purposes that are decidedly not business-related.

Alfie fucking loves it. Loves it when Tommy strides into his flat after a day during which he’s been particularly indecent, radiating annoyance and petulance and arrogance. It’s a challenge Alfie welcomes with open arms, all together delighted to set about the task of unwinding Tommy’s moods, teasing him into bed where he can then dutifully strip him bare and turn his ire into quivering need.

And as with most things when it comes to Alfie, Tommy should know better. His bad moods and sullen responses to Alfie’s behavior only serve to further encourage it, pushing him to infuriate him more and more.

—

It’s about a month after Alfie’s fateful run in Margate that he begins to send scandalous texts to Tommy throughout the workday. The idiot had made the mistake of sharing his calendar with him, so Alfie always knows just the opportune time to bombard him.

It starts off innocent enough. The occasional text recalling the night before (Can't stop thinking about how glorious that beautiful ass felt around my cock) or anticipating evenings to come ( I’m going to make you come so hard tonight you won’t be able to walk for days). Alfie always hits send with a rush of glee, imagining Tommy checking his buzzing phone during important negotiations, his cheeks flushing pink upon reading them, followed by a clenched jaw and quickened breaths.

Without fail, Tommy never responds, but still comes to him later, throws his briefcase onto the couch before seething out, for fucks sake, Alfie, and slamming him against the wall or counter or fridge with an aggravated kiss. It’s utterly delicious, and Alfie happily welcomes the bruises that emerge under Tommy’s aggressive ministrations and the moans of desire that soon follow as he takes him fully.

—

Alfie ups his game quickly from words to photos. He makes sure to not send anything too incriminating, no dick pics or anything, he’s not entirely lacking in class, after all. But there are teasing shots of bare arms and his unclothed chest and wetted lips and an exposed inguinal crease. All his parts that he knows Tommy likes best.

The result is far more effective than words, Tommy later barreling into his flat in a storm of ferocious lust and annoyance, equally.

One time, when Alfie yearns to taunt Tommy during what he knows is a particularly important meeting, he can’t find a moment of his own to take a current photo, and instead delves deep into his archives, finding one from his MySpace days, nearly decades ago.

The photo he stumbles upon is absurd. A young picture of him nude but for a pair of scrunched white drawers, leaning languidly against a door frame, crotch unabashedly defined. He sends it without a moment's hesitation.

Tommy doesn’t wait until their evening plans to respond. He strides unannounced into his office midday and slams his phone onto Alfie’s desk.

“You’re getting fucking lazy, Alfie,” he says, a strange, unfamiliar energy humming about him. “Can’t even be bothered to send something recent, eh?”

Alfie grins in response and cocks his eyebrows.

“Ever rescued a dog, Tom? Naw, I bet not. See the thing is, when you rescue a dog, often it’s no young pup. And all you can think the whole time you’ve that majestic beast in your care is, fuck, what I wouldn’t give to see this beauty in his youth. So, considerate man that I am, I figured I’d grant you said pleasure.”

Tommy barks out the rare, loud laugh, his eyes twinkling and mouth spread wide. Alfie wastes no time in undressing him and fucking him senseless against his desk.

—

From this, Alfie learns that the one thing he loves more than riling Tommy up is making him laugh, and from then on his actions take on a whole new purpose.

His sent photos become less scandalous and more ridiculous and are more often from the past than not.

There’s the picture of him, lips pursed and bare-chested, but for a green vest, hand sneaking beneath his waistband. And the one of him flexing his youthful upper body quite wonderfully, if he does say so himself. And then there’s the one with him donning nothing but an orange thong and a baseball cap and a wonderfully trimmed mustache. So many to choose from, so he sends them all.

Tommy doesn’t make it easy, and Alfie has to admit he’d be disappointed if he did. More often than not Tommy strolls into his flat, skillfully masking amusement with annoyance, parading about uninterested. But Alfie can see the lightness glinting in his eyes, the slight twitch in his hard-pressed lips, and it’s with wholehearted joy that he strips away Tommy’s pretenses and delights in his ensuing undoing.

—

One day, things go particularly awry. It’s not Alfie’s fault, really. How was he supposed to foresee that Tommy had recently synced his texts to his computer and that his latest sent photo, entirely unprofessional— in fact, the most raunchy of them all— would pop into frame while Tommy was reviewing spreadsheets with his newest client?

There’s no world in which Alfie should be held accountable for this, except for Tommy’s. But still, when, instead of a non-response to his text followed by a late-night visit, Alfie receives a phone call, there’s an unease deep in his stomach.

“You crossed the fucking line, today,” Tommy informs him, with a particularly steely tone. Alfie balks.

“I what? ” He asks, incredulous. Tommy recounts his day and hangs up abruptly at Alfie’s ensuing laughter.

Countless texts later Alfie has convinced Tommy to come over, after all. Despite his complete lack of responsibility for the disaster his earlier text had resulted in, Alfie can’t help but feel a pang of remorse.

So he swallows his pride and sets about a scheme to rectify matters. He’s naked but for his cinched white underwear, posing against the wall, emulating that first MySpace post he’d shared, when Tommy enters his flat. Tommy falters when he sees him, clearly so ready for defiance, but shocked into something else entirely.

Alfie rubs his free hand over his beard, says, “2005 called. They want me back.”

The grin that splits over Tommy’s face should be relief enough, but it’s not until he steps forward and cups Alfie fully in his palm, his lips grazing softly over his, that Alfie knows his sins are truly forgiven.

They spend the night enthusiastically fucking and, when morning comes, continue, canceling their workdays, pleasure thoroughly trumping business.

#Peaky Blinders #Tommy/Alfie #tommy x alfie #Tommy Shelby #Alfie Solomons #Tom Hardy #ao3 #fanfic #peaky blinders fanfic

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peach-the-owl · 4 years ago

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A platonic one with Vox Machina and the Might Nein where the reader is a dancer/bard/entertainer and the group is a little tight in money or whatever reason so they go off and perform to help out in some way. The groups didn't know so they kind of state at them with jaws dropped

May have gotten slightly carried away, especially on that second scenario, but I had fun with it (might even continue a small story off it, who knows). This should be interesting, I hope this turns out well…… Enjoy 😁

Payed Preformance

Mighty Nein, Vox Machina & Reader (Platonic)

Mighty Nein

Just starting up in the adventuring business has proven to be very tricky, especially when it comes to making and managing money.

"No matter how we try it, there’s just no way we can afford enough rooms for everyone." Beau scratches the back of her head as she recounts your small amount of coin the group had for like the fifteenth time.

"We could always steal some." Nott points out.

"I don’t reckon that to be a good idea, we're tryin' to be in these people’s good graces remember." Fjord counters, rubbing at his temples.

"Just a friendly suggestion." Nott shrugs, clearly still plotting to actually do it. Everyone starts discussing what to do next, you let out a small sigh.

"I have an idea, that doesn’t involve stealing." You speak up, gaining the group’s attention. They stare at you in silence, waiting for you to continue and explain. You look away a second and take a breath. "Look just… just trust me on this."

"Hey, if it’ll help, I say go for it." Beau encourages. You give a nod, stand from your chair and leave the tavern with the group following behind curiously. As you look for a nice open spot you also dig around in your bag until you grasp the item you’re searching for, pulling out a small lute.

"I didn’t know you played!" You hear Jester pipe in, you turn to her and give her a smile and a small laugh.

"I don’t, I’m not the one who’ll be playing it." You get some confused looks, you just roll your eyes playfully and cast Unseen Servant, whispering your command to it whilst handing over the lute. Music begins to play and you start performing some fine acrobatics and contortionist abilities, quickly gaining a crowd as you did. Soon enough people start tossing their spare change, as they do you up the ante of the music and your performance baiting people to want to toss more coin your way just to see what you would do next. The whole time you can see at the corner of your eye the Nein staring in awe, as a grand finale you kick off a wall, do a tumble roll through the air and cast Prestidigitation to make a small fireworks display go off behind you. There’s a pause before the crowd you'd drawn in starts to clap and cheer a few "good show" being yelled here and there, you gather your spoils into your bag and walk over to the group.

"Will this do?" You ask, holding you bag open for them to inspect. Caleb stares into the bag giving a quick head count.

"I believe this’ll do just fine." He comments. There’s a small awkward silence that soon falls onto the group.

"Alright, since no one else wants to ask the question that’s on all our minds, I’ll do it myself." Molly quickly breaks away from the silence and looks to you. "Where did you learn how to do that?" You give a sigh.

"You know, you and Yasha aren’t the only ones who lived with a circus." You say somewhat matter-of-factly.

"Oh now that’s a story I have to hear." He perks up and gets uncomfortably close to your face until you shove him away.

"How about first we actually go through how much coin we *cough* I *cough* earned, then I might tell my story." You exaggerate on the might as a means to say you weren’t going to willingly give away your life story. Before anyone has the chance to say or ask you anything else you turn and make your way back into the tavern.

Vox Machina

"Alright! What did you boneheads do!" The doors to the tavern slam open and a very angry Vex marches her way over to the table giving a hard glare towards Grog and Scanlan. You, Keyleth and Percy all share a look then sit back and take a swig from your drinks ready to watch the show unfold.

"I have no idea what you’re talking about." The gnome tried to play things off smoothly, it didn’t work.

"Really." She raises an unconvinced eyebrow at him. "Well then I’m sure you have a perfectly good explantion for where that gaudy belt you’re wearing came from." You have to hold back a laugh at Scanlan's obvious discomfort. Vax comes and places an arm around his sister's shoulder.

"Hey relax, I’m sure it can’t be that bad." She eyes him a moment.

"Right… that’s a nice new cloak you got there. Where’d that come from?" Vex asks suspiciously. Vax then slowly removes his arm from her shoulder and she lets out a sigh. "Until we can sort this out you’re all banned from taking any money." You and Keyleth both nearly choke on your drinks.

"Come on Vex, don’t throw us into this mess. We’re not the ones who did anything wrong." You try to reason. She turns to you and pinches at the bridge of her nose.

"Look, I’m not trying to be the bad guy here, but we barely have enough gold for rooms and a meal." You let the words sink in, contemplating if you should suggest the idea that popped into you head or begrudgingly go along without spending money. When you come to your conclusion you take a deep breath to spike yourself up.

"What if I told you I had a way we could make back… at least a good some of the gold we’d lost." Everyone looks at you curiously.

"Please, by all means." You nod, chug down the rest of your drink and stand up walking around the table.

"Scanlan I’m borrowing you for a moment." You say grabbing the gnome by the collar of his shirt without letting him answer. You head out to find an open space on the road and place him down once you do.

"What was that for?" Scanlan asks, brushing himself off.

"I have a special request, if you don’t mind." He raises an interested eyebrow at you. You whisper to him your request and give an expectant look. "Think you could do that for me?"

"You got it!" He shoots you some finger guns then pulls out his instrument to help fulfil your request. You wave your hand letting the magic shimmer over you, changing your outfit to something more fitting and wait for your cue. Already a curious crowd starts to form around you, and when the music hits your ears you begin to move your body perfectly in time with the notes. As the song plays you match your movements with each note as if your body was a physical interpretation of the song itself. People start to toss gold and silver coin your way, some cheers and whistles being heard amongst the crowd, all the while you do what you can to repress any memories that try to resurface themselves, you were not gonna let the past ruin this for you. When the song is finally done you give a bow to the crowd breathing heavily to catch your breath, they all clap, cheer and some toss even a few extra coin your way. Once you’ve finally regained a normal breathing pattern and the crowd had dispersed you look back to the group, seeing them all jaw dropped.

"You’ve got quite the talent there." Scanlan says astonished. You give a light laugh, waving your hand as you do to change your outfit back to the way it was before.

"Where in blazes did that come from?" Grog asks, confused by your secret talent.

"That was incredible." Percy compliments.

"Where did you learn to dance like that?" Vax questions.

"You have to teach me how to dance sometime!" Keyleth quickly jumps in excitedly.

"Whoa, whoa slow down everyone, please." You hold your arms up defensively. "Look, it’s no big deal. Does that help make up some lost change?" You quickly change the subject, directing your attention over to Vex as she finishes collecting the last of the coin people left behind.

"I certainly does. I too am curious though as to where you learned to dance like that?" Vex reiterates her brothers question.

"Eh, it was a long time ago really. I don’t really dwell too much on it though." You wave them off.

"Well now I'd like to know too." Percy raises an eyebrow your way. You let out a sigh.

"Right, and I’m famished after all that. Can’t we just head back into the tavern and enjoy ourselves?" You ask, avoiding the question. Realizing they wouldn’t be getting a straight answer from you they all nod.

"You know what you need to really hammer home a job well done?" Grog gives you a big goofy smile, you knew where this was going but look at him curiously nonetheless. "A nice big mug of ale. Come on then!" He gives you a hardy laugh and a pat on the back, his immense strength making you have to catch yourself from falling to the ground.

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plazmafields · 4 years ago

Text

“You asked to see me?”

Cullen lifted his head from his work to lock eyes with the mage in his doorway. He sighed as he gestured for Dorian to sit.

“Yes. I have a…problem, of my own creation, that I could use some advice on.”

Dorian lowered slowly into the seat across the desk from Cullen, curiously raising an eyebrow. “I’ll see how I can help.”

“Thank you,” Cullen smiled softly before clearing his throat to continue, “There’s…a person who I continue to find catching my eye, and I don’t know how to deal with it. I’d really like them to know how I feel, but I don’t think I have the confidence to tell them with words.”

Dorian blinked several times, a bit taken aback that Cullen was so upfront with his ask for romantic help.

“Well,” he began, shifting forward in his seat, crossing one leg over the other, “I am certainly no expert in women—"

“I never said they were a woman.”

Dorian’s mouth still hung open from his comment. He shut it quickly and nodded, silently asking Cullen to continue.

The Commander sighed, running a hand through his groomed curls. “I’ll be honest: I’ve never really…courted anyone before, so we’re essentially starting from scratch here.”

Dorian gave a comforting smile, “That’s perfectly alright. Perhaps a blank slate is best.”

The mage pulled his chair up, resting his elbows on the desk. “Now, you don’t want to come off too strong too soon. So let’s start very basic: what is something almost anyone would like to receive?”

Cullen looked down at his hands, clasped and nervously twiddling. After a moment of thinking he replied tentatively, “Praise?”

Dorian chuckled, “Yes, that’s true, but let’s think most simply. Something superficial, to start. Something physical…?” he guided.

Cullen’s eyes bounced around Dorian’s features for clues. “Gifts?”

Dorian nodded encouragingly, making a rolling motion with his hand to encourage something specific.

“Such as…flowers?” Cullen said it like a question.

“Perfect!” Dorian Tossed his hands up. “Now the next step is easy, what flowers do they like?”

Cullen sighed, rubbing at his scruff, “No idea. And I’m not sure I have the nerve to ask them.”

“Well you wouldn’t want to do that anyway, you want to bring it up casually. Otherwise, they might catch on to what you’re planning.”

Cullen was still looking away, distracted with his own anxiety. Dorian offered a gentle smile and a friendly suggestion. “Why not get a bouquet? A little mix of everything? That way there’s bound to be something they like in there. After all, it’s the thought, not the gift, that matters here.”

Cullen nodded continuously, deep in thought of what to get for his muse. “Yes…a little of everything. That’s…that’s an excellent idea! I’ll go to Orlais, to a florist, pick out the most exotic things they have, the most colorful, most pungent. It’s perfect!”

Dorian couldn’t help the grin that stretched across his lips at Cullen’s excitement.

“Thank you, Dorian. You’ve no idea how much this helps me.”

“Glad to be of service, my friend.” Dorian rose from his seat, gave a friendly bow, and left Cullen to his plans.

__________

As Dorian sat in his little alcove, reading over a new study, the sound of quick and precise footsteps drew closer. Soon, the Inquisitor, ever nimble on her feet, ran into his nook, a massive smile on her face.

“Have you been out today?”

Dorian glanced over the edge of his book. “Not yet, no.”

She bounced on her toes, “So you haven’t seen the garden?”

The mage raised a brow, closing his book with one hand. “Should I?”

The rouge practically squealed as she gestured for Dorian to follow her.

They were in the main hall in no time, Vivienne calling down from her balcony, “It's simply exquisite, darling! Who knew our Commander had such taste?” Varric shrugging as if to say Not me.

Once outside, Dorian had to push through a wall of onlookers, all gawking at the sight before them. The Inquisitor slipped through almost effortlessly, turning to check for Dorian every few seconds.

Finally, they broke through the crowd and Dorian’s jaw nearly dropped. There were flowers everywhere; no patch of dirt in sight. Flowering ivy spiraled up and around the pillars and railings, columns tangled in vines. Each plain tree had been replaced with a flowering fruit tree; one apple, one cherry, one pear, and one orange.

The Inquisitor squeezed his hand to bring him back, saying in a sigh, “Isn’t it beautiful? Like a magic forest!”

Before he could turn to acknowledge her, the red head was already frolicking like a school girl, skipping and bounding through the garden, hoping to find every flower she could. Dorian watched her with a smile, shaking his head at how adorable she could be.

A sudden realization washed over him as he watched the young woman stand on her toes to reach an apple: she must be Cullen’s secret muse. Watching her enjoy every last bit of the garden, even the new insects that had been attracted by the plants, cemented this truth in his mind. Cullen was head over heels for Lyann Trevelyan.

After spending time with his friend amongst the flowers, admiring every scent, Dorian slipped away to consult Cullen on his next move. As he poked his head into the Commander's office, he saw Cullen excitedly pacing, grinning to himself.

“Do you know what a bouquet is, my friend? Perhaps something was lost in translation last we spoke.” Dorian teased, grabbing Cullen’s attention.

Cullen’s head shot up and he smiled widely, rushing over to Dorian to get his reaction. “Well? What do you think?”

Dorian chuckled at Cullen’ childlike glee. “I think you did an excellent job. Maybe a bit over the top, but I can certainly say it made an impression.”

Cullen nearly melted, “Oh, Dorian, I am so glad to hear it. Your advice was invaluable!”

Dorian grinned as he said lowly, “The Inquisitor especially liked it, might I add.”

Cullen’s eyes went wide as he blushed, straightening his back, “O-oh! Well, I suppose I should have run it past her first, but it’s a bit embarrassing to tell her my intentions. Josephine was good about keeping it confidential.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, glancing to the floor.

Dorian gave a hardy chuckle, “Oh I understand. Now, what did you have planned for the next step?”

Cullen froze. “Next…step? How many steps are there?”

Shaking his head, Dorian grabbed the blond by the shoulders and lead him to his desk.

“May I?” Dorian snatched a quill and paper.

“Step one: a sweet but generic gift to show your interest. Something to casually say ‘I might like you'. You already did that one. Following?”

Cullen nodded, leaning his elbows on the desk as he watched Dorian write.

“Alright. Step two: a more personal gift. Something you know they like. This shows them not only are you interested in them, but you’re interested in their interests as well.”

“Right…” Cullen chewed his lip.

“What is it?” Dorian sighed.

“I don’t know much about their likes. They aren’t very…direct. Ever.”

Well that doesn’t sound like Lyann… Dorian thought to himself.

Dorian had to restrain from rolling his eyes. “Well, in that case, an easy thing to get for someone indecisive is sweets. Candy, chocolate, biscuits, pastries. Things like that. Just get them sweets that remind you of them.”

Cullen looked utterly concerned. “Am I supposed to…guess what they…taste like?”

Dorian stared at him with a blank look, completely astounded. “No. What does that even—no, never mind, please don’t attempt to explain.”

After drumming his fingers on the desk for a moment, Dorian tried to be more clear—though he thought he had been plenty clear before. “Think of how they act, yes? Are they kind and sweet? Flowery and fun? Warm like spice?”

Cullen nodded along, seemly understanding this time.

Dorian smiled, placing a tender hand on the blonds arm. “I’ll leave you to it then."

__________

Several days later and not a word from Cullen, Dorian felt a bit anxious. Had he not been clear enough still? Did Cullen get too nervous to continue? Oh no, did he have a falling out with Lyann; she didn’t return his feelings?

Just as he began to lose himself in his nerves, despite having research to focus on, Dorian caught a subtle whiff of something delicious. It was warm and baked, but chocolatey and rich, and somehow tart all at once. Cullen must have asked the cooks to do their damnedest.

After a while the scent became too much, it was too intriguing, Dorian had to go to the kitchens and see for himself what was being baked. As he descended the stairs to Solas's area, the elf came from the main hall with a plate of goodies. Tarts and cookies and all sorts, laid out decoratively on a porcelain dish.

“My my,” Dorian quirked a brow, “Someone has a sweet tooth it seems.”

Solas didn’t look at him as he replied, “There is a spred out there. I would be a fool to turn down free food. Especially Orlaisian pastries.” He popped a fruit tart into his mouth.

Dorian exited to the main hall and was greeted by long dining tables over flowing with every dessert imaginable. Full cakes, cup cakes, full pies, hand pies, everything he loved and things he hadn’t tried before, but was more than eager to.

Everyone in Skyhold, and a few visiting nobles, huddled around the tables making sure to heap their plates, and at the front of the room, with a towering plate nearly spilling down her shirt, was the ever graceful Inquisitor, shoving candied dates into her gob.

“Well aren’t you looking marvelous today,” Dorian laughed as he approached.

“Hm? Oh, Dorun!” Lyann mumbled through half chewed food.

She took a second to chew and swallow before nearly shouting, “Isn’t this amazing?! Cullen and Josephine planned this in only a few days! I don’t know how they got it all here and kept it so fresh! It taste like it just came from the ovens, or maybe the Maker's own kitchen.” She swooned as she crammed another treat into her mouth.

Dorian chuckled, picking up a plate to load up himself. “Cullen planned this, did he? Any idea why?” He feigned curiosity.

“No idea,” Lyann shrugged, nearly dropping a pudding, “He usually doesn’t care about impressing nobles, so I don’t know who he’s trying to impress. Maybe he just felt like the troops deserved it!”

“Oh, I’d bet he’s trying to catch someone’s attention...” Dorian hinted, but the Inquisitor was already going in for seconds. Well, more like fourths.

Dorian shook his head with a smile as she walked off to her chambers with a mountain of sweets. Just as he began picking out his favorite treats, a soft voice spoke up behind him.

“Have you tried the jam biscuits yet? They’re heavenly. I might actually die if someone doesn’t stop me.”

Dorian turned around just in time to see Cullen with a jam cookie half way to his lips. Just as it was about to touch his tongue, Dorian snatched it away, downing it in one bite.

Cullen looked at him in shock, mouth still open to receive the sweet. They laughed together as Dorian tried to chew the mouthful.

“So? What do you think? Did I hit all the right flavors?”

Dorian chuckled, “If everything under the sun reminds you of them, then yes.”

Cullen sighed dreamily, “Everything…”

Dorian had only seen that look a handful of times, but by the Maker, it was his favorite expression on the blond. That look of complete adoration, losing himself to a daydream. It looked beautiful. He looked beautiful…

Dorian shook his head, reminding himself he was helping the man court someone else. The Inquisitor, of all people. But they seemed like a good match, both very…Ferelden.

When he looked back, Cullen was staring at him with bright eyes, an innocent smirk lopsided on his lips. Dorian smiled back.

“Is everything alright?” Cullen asked so gently.

Dorian swallowed hard before clearing his throat, “Yes, of course. Just thinking about your next step.”

“What’s that?”

Dorian led Cullen to a less crowded area of the hall. “Well, everything you’ve done so far has been very…grand. You may want to think about doing something one-on-one with them, personally.”

Cullen sighed, rubbing his neck. “Right, one-on-one…If you couldn’t tell, I’ve been trying to take an indirect approach.”

Dorian rolled his eyes, “But how are they ever supposed to know it’s you?”

“Well, I thought it would be rather obvious.” Cullen gave him a very confused stare.

“Listen,” Dorian sighed and shifted his weight, “they know it’s you, but you have to show that it’s for them.”

Cullen’s eyes lit up, “Oh! Oh, of course, I should have—I’m sorry Dorian I didn’t understand—”

“That’s alright, I just hope you’ve planned for something one-on-one, because I can’t help you with this next bit.”

“What?” Cullen’s eyes seems almost terrified, losing his only advisor.

Dorian wraps his fingers around the back of Cullen’s neck, pulling him closer so he could hear the whisper, “You must make this personal. I’m always willing to help, but I can’t tell you everything they like and how to fit it all together. That’s up to you, my friend.”

Cullen sighed and let his head fall forward, forehead almost leaning against Dorian’s. “Alright. I’ll try to do you proud.”

The mage smiled reassuringly, “You will, Cullen. Don’t worry.”

__________

After nearly a week without any word, Dorian received a surprise visit just as noon struck.

“Glad to see you haven’t given up. I was starting to wonder if you had gotten cold feet.” Dorian teased, slapping Cullen’s arm playfully.

Cullen grinned wide and chuckled, “Well, I’m not actually here for advice this time. I was wondering if you might come with me. I think I’ve found the perfect place for a date!”

“Oh?” Dorian was shocked by the confidence in the Commander’s voice. “What are we waiting for then? Need I pack a bag?”

“No, it’s not too far.” Cullen eyed him up and down, considering his outfit. “Though I might wear something more casual, were I you.”

Dorian looked down at his attire, about to ask why, when Cullen called back to him, already on his way, “I’ll meet you at the gates in an hour. Don’t be late.”

So he dressed down and packed a bottle of wine to sip at on the ride there. Where ever “there” was; Cullen was being awfully secretive about their destination, only repeating that it was the perfect spot for a date.

Just as the two had run out of things to banter about on the ride, Cullen stopped his horse by a gap in some trees.

“Through here. We’ll have to tie up the horses, I don’t think they’ll make it through the foliage.”

Dorian sighed an exasperate sigh, “Are we in for much of a hike? You know I get more exercise than I truly want while adventuring with the Inquisitor.”

Cullen chuckled and held some leaves out of the way for Dorian to duck under. After a short walk, Cullen looked back and smiled, “I think it’s beautiful out here. Tell me what you think.”

Dorian stepped forward through the last bit of trees to be greeted by the most sparkling, clearest, gentlest lake he’d ever laid eyes on. The water rippled steadily with the slight breeze, waves barely formed yet still enough to rock the lily pads and fallen leaves. The sun was just visible through the trees, but not enough to blind them, slowly lowering in the sky, ready shine orange and pink light across the water when dusk came.

“I…” Dorian couldn’t find his words, “Cullen, this is gorgeous…”

He looked back to Cullen who leaned confidently against a tree, pleased with the mage's reaction.

But as he turned back, Dorian remembered who all this was for, and it put a heaviness in his heart. His eyes dropped as he said “She’ll love this, Cullen. I know she will.”

Long moments went by with no response before Dorian felt a gentle hand on the small of his back.

“Who?” Cullen asked softly, seeing Dorian was upset.

“Lyann, silly. She’ll find this all so lovely, I’m sure.” He had a hard time keeping eye contact with the Commander, curious eyes meaning no ill intent.

“Lyann?” Cullen pulled back slightly. “Why would I bring her—”

Cullen’s eyes went wide as he muttered, “oh no…”

He stepped away to pace, continuing his “no”s under gus breath, thinking of something to say or do to make it right.

“Cullen? I don’t understand, what’s wrong?” Dorian followed his pacing, trying to grab his arm.

“I’ve screwed this up royally, that what’s wrong! Lyann?! You thought this was all for the Inquisitor?”

Dorian stopped in his tracks. “Yes? I saw how much she enjoyed everything you did, so I assumed…”

It struck him like a charging druffalo. “No.” He whispered. “For…for me?”

Cullen looked over his shoulder sheepishly, waiting for a better idea of Dorian’s reaction.

“All of it?” Dorian’s words were hardly voiced, sliding out along a whisper of disbelief.

Cullen turned around fully and began taking cautious steps toward Dorian, trying to gage if his surprise was good or bad.

As Dorian continued to stare forward, slack jawed, Cullen placed a warm hand on his neck, the other finding the mage’s chin and tilting his gaze up to lock eyes.

“Everything. Every flower, every tart, everything. I wanted to give you the world, but I didn’t know how to start. I wanted you to see I would do anything for you, Dorian. You want flower, I’ll plant you a garden. You want sweets, I’ll bring the world’s best bakers to you.”

Dorian’s eyes only showed more confusion. Cullen leaned forward, stopping just before their lips touched to whisper, “I love you.”

“You—” But the words were stolen from his lips as Cullen pulled him in, chest to chest, arms around his waist, surprisingly deft lips making him melt into the blond.

He lost track of time. It could have been seconds, minutes, maybe an hour, before they pulled away, each out of breath and shaking from a single shared shiver down their spines.

“That was…electrifying.” Cullen sighed, hugging the mage close.

Dorian could hardly think straight, just hugging Cullen back as he gathered his thoughts.

After a moment of silence, Dorian finally relaxed against Cullen and said, “I…didn’t think I could be so dense.”

They laughed together, Cullen pulling back to plant a gentle kiss to the mage’s nose.

“But in my defense,” Dorian began, returning to his regular self, “who asks the person they plan on courting for advice on how to court them?”

“Well, you liked everything, didn’t you?” Cullen teased back.

Dorian shook his head, still feeling like this couldn’t be real. But those eyes, those golden eyes…

“I…feel strongly about you, Cullen. I’d dare say I’m smitten.”

Cullen smiled even wider before placing a quick kiss to Dorian lips, stripping off his shoes and tunic with impressive speed, and jumping like a cannonball into the lake. Dorian put his hands up to shield his face from the splash, but his casual clothes soaked up the water on contact.

“Looks like you’ll have to let those clothes dry. What should we do in the meantime?” Cullen called over smugly.

“You little southern…” Dorian shook his head before stripping down and diving in himself, making sure to get Cullen in the face.

They laughed together as they splashed the other back and forth, stopping only to share a passionate kiss.

#da #dai #cullen rutherford #dorian pavus #cullrian #dragon age inquisition #dragon age

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buckyownsmylife · 4 years ago

Text

Touch-A Touch-A Touch me - Part II - Sebastian Stan smut

The one where you get back to Professor Stan’s apartment and he’s not behaving like you’re used to.

Warnings: smut, pwp, professor-student relationship (both legal), dominant relationship, jealousy, begging, dirty talk, ice play, insecure! Seb, secret relationship, sir kink, spanking (briefly), sex with clothes on while partner is naked

A/N: Okay, you guys! Here it is! This is the second part to my Sebastian Stan Professor AU that I promised I’d do and that the sweet @godohammers encouraged me to write! You don’t need to read that one to understand this, but if you want, here it is! I hope you guys like it!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

As I made my way into his apartment, I felt like my skin was on fire from all the desire I had boiling inside of me. It was like this every time I had to deal with Sebastian’s eyes on me for any amount of time. Knowing that he had done precisely that all throughout the evening - not to mention the little episode we shared inside the bathroom - had made me wetter than I cared to admit.

Having to spend all night apart from him was terrible. Having to take a separate cab to go back to his place was awful. But nothing was worse than bursting through his door to find him quietly sipping on a glass of scotch, piercing eyes connected to mine, but otherwise absolutely silent.

“C’mon, baby, please…” I had been begging for the last fifteen minutes, but still, nothing. He had ordered me to strip and relieved me of the agony the fabric of the dress was prompting as it brushed against my hardened nipples, but now I was being faced with a different type of torture. Being spread out for him over his mattress while he quietly watched as my wetness gathered over my pussy, until it was slowly dripping from me onto the bed.

He hadn’t even touched me. And he hadn’t allowed me to touch myself either. I was a mess and all from the effect he caused on me, simply by his staring.

My desperate whine must have prompted him to approach, or maybe it was because he had finally finished his drink. All I knew is that suddenly he had pulled me by the back of my head so our lips could connect in a kiss that was all fire and tongue and I was already on the edge just from this little bit of contact.

God, I needed him.

“You’re so wet, baby,” he pointed out after he let me go, pushing me back into the bed. He carefully made his way around the mattress, still not climbing into it, just staring with a piercing attention at my body. “Who made you this wet?” He asked, collecting some of my wetness with two of his long fingers, before rubbing them together. The touch was so light, barely there, but it fed the fire in my lower stomach, making me gasp in excitement. “Was it Tom?”

The question made me freeze. Who the fuck was Tom?

Then, suddenly, I remembered. And it all made sense.

“You’re jealous,” I noted. “Of professor Hardy?” Sebastian didn’t say anything, opting instead to turn his back to me and walk towards his now empty glass. Except it wasn’t empty, I was suddenly made aware as he came back to me after having scooped up a single piece of ice.

He still didn’t say anything as he held it above my body, letting it drip just between my breasts. The coldness surprised me, even if I thought I was prepared for it. I gasped, my breasts bouncing as I convulsed, my nipples screaming out for attention.

That made him smile.

“So I can still get such a reaction from you, huh?” The answer was obvious, but at least now I knew where the question was coming from. Underneath that cold exterior, I could now see the insecurity in his eyes. Sometimes I forgot that it was hard for him too, having to keep this relationship a secret. But I was more than eager to help remind him that I was his, and that’s what I wanted to be for as long as he wanted me.

“You can always get this reaction from me, sir. Only you.” It was clearly the right thing to say, by the way he rewarded me with a quick kiss on the lips that honestly only left me wanting more. But then the ice was deposited just above my belly button and down, down, down it went, until it met another type of wetness, the one I was producing. After quickly rubbing it over my throbbing clit, he pushed it inside of me, right where I had been desperate for his touch. “Seb… Seb, please, please fuck me…” I begged, but my only answer was a spank to my clit with the hand that wasn’t otherwise occupied.

“I’m not in the mood to play games, doll.” Crying out, I instinctively tried to move my hips so his fingers would provide me with at least some of the friction I so desperately desired.

“I’m sorry, sir,” I scrambled to rectify it. “Please, sir… Please, fuck me.” Although he didn’t immediately answer, his eyes never strayed from mine, and his hand kept moving, giving me at least the tiniest bit of pleasure. Still, it could never compare to how it felt to have him inside of me.

Finally, after what felt like forever, he granted me a tiny nod, but his face never showed any emotion, remaining in that same distant demeanor I had found when I first entered his apartment. I had no idea what his acquiescence meant, but I was desperate to find out.

“Do you want to cum tonight?” He asked, his voice not betraying any of the emotions that would help me understand what was going on inside his head. But I knew the answer he wanted to hear.

“Yes, please, sir.” I immediately nodded, licking my lips at the prospect of having him inside of me, filling me up, stretching me out like he always did. No matter how many times he fucked me, it was always the tiniest bit uncomfortable when he first pushed in, but I had come to cherish that immediate sensation and now constantly craved for it.

“Then beg for my cock. Assure me it’s the only one you want. Remind me you’re mine and only mine.” He had unbuckled his trousers while speaking, and his cock was now tightly secured in his fist, that travelled up and down his length while he stared down at my naked body.

“I am,” my response came without any need to think about it. “God, I’m all yours, sir. Mind, body and soul. No one can make me feel the way that you do. Please, please fuck me. I feel so empty without you inside of me.” For the first time that night, his lips twitched up, betraying how my words had really affected him.

In a second, he made his way over to me, still not properly undressing, but that was the least of my concerns. At least now I had him between my legs, his weight pressing me down, his warmth seeping into my skin even through the layers of his three-piece suit.

Seb’s P.O.V.

“I love you so much,” I muttered against her neck as I fused us together. The welcoming gasp she let out every single time I thrusted into her was like music to my ears. “You are everything to me, baby girl.”

Little moans of pleasure escaped her delicious lips as she accepted my declarations and the movement of my hips as I tried to find that one spot that made her eyes roll back. When I did, she gasped again, one of her arms coming around my shoulders to hug me closer to her.

“I-I love you too, sir,” she managed to admit, although she could barely open her eyes as I continued to passionately fuck her against the mattress. I wasn’t completely satisfied with her words, however, and I let her know by biting on her earlobe.

“No sir anymore, darling. Just me. Tell me you love me, c’mon. I wanna hear you say my name.” The vulnerability in my tone made her open her eyes to stare up at me, her lips still somewhat open from the sounds she couldn’t stop releasing.

“I love you, Seb,” she said, her eyes connected with mine like our bodies were, no hesitation in her declaration. The moment became too much for me. The sight of the woman that I loved underneath me, telling me she felt the same way, the feeling of her wet, tight walls clenching around me… I came with a strangled groan, my knees failing to keep me up as she screamed my name when my spurts of cum caused her to reach her high too.

We stayed there for a long while, just silently basking in each other’s warmth, while Y/N caressed my hair and I thought long and hard about the evening we had shared. “I’m sorry,” I decided to come out with it sooner than later.

“For what?” She asked, stopping her movements, which allowed me to push myself away from her chest to look her in the eye.

“For being a jealous asshole. For being blinded by Tom’s interest in you and letting it get to me. I never really thought you’d reciprocate his feelings, I was just… scared. I don’t want to lose you.” Y/N opened up a smile at my words, but her eyes seemed somewhat saddened by them.

“You’re never going to lose me, Seb. I love you.” She pushed herself to lean on her elbows, so she could kiss my forehead briefly. “Besides, Professor Hardy is nowhere near as hot as you.”

That made me laugh out loud, and just like that, the cloud of anxiety that had been weighing me down was pushed away, ignored and forgotten by the incredible caring power of my girlfriend.

“I’m not so sure your friends would be completely in agreement with you,” I argued, but she simply shook her head, strands from her hair sticking to her sweaty skin. She had a determined look on her face that begged me to take whatever she was going to say very seriously.

“They have terrible taste in everything, including men. Please don’t use them as any sort of standard of judgment, or you will be embarrassed by it.” Her words were so honest that I knew there was a story behind it. Already laughing, I managed to ask, “You’re talking from a personal experience, darling?”

She looked at me with wide eyes, like she was suddenly brought back from some difficult memories by my question. “Yes,” she admitted, but immediately added, “Please don’t make me elaborate on that.”

With another hearty laugh, I hugged her to my chest, squeezing her as hard as I could, thankful to whatever God was in charge that we had managed to find each other. “Of course, baby girl. Let’s talk about better things, tell me you love me again.” This time, it was her laugh that filled the room and my heart, and with that loving sound in my life, I was sure I’d be able to overcome any obstacle that might appear in my way - even if it was another suitor interested in her caresses. Because I knew the only person who would ever received them would be me.

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan insert #sebastian stan #smut #sebastian stan insert fanfiction #my fics #professor au #sebastian stan professor #sebastian stan professor au

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calientecoochie · 3 years ago

Text

It Happened So Fast-

•2•

“AHH”

The red giant backed up and put his hands up in the air and waved them frantically. “<Wha-hooooahh! Calm down. Sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to frighten you! That’s wasn’t very manly was it. Gah, bad first impression, I guess, ha.” The redhead rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“<You’re Red Riot. The~huh~ the Red Riot>” Yes, yes you were gaping like a fish in a desert. How could a man be so tall?! He is literally towering over everybody here. What is he like 7’?! Does his bones hurt? What the hell is a Bakugo... Oh, he staring at me. How long have I been staring!

“<Uhmm>” Red Riot waves his hands in front of your face, “Helloooo, anybody, homeeeee?” His voice sounds so velvety and heroic. “<I should really work on my introductions...this happens way more often then it should. Let me write that down so I don’t forget.>” The Pro Hero stares down at you, “<I’ll give you a lift, Y/N, since you’re like in a trance. LET’S GO TO MY OFFICE! I CAN SHOW YOU PICTURES FROM MY UA DAYS AND SOME COOL AWARDS. SO MANLY!>” With that your new boss lifted you up and threw you over his broad shoulders.

He continued to talk Y/N’s ear off with you not understanding much of what Red was saying but, appreciating it either way seeing as it was helping you unwind from the earlier shock. As the pair walked through the agency, Y/N took in the place. Even though, the place is a big on inside as it was on the outside, it wasn’t as daunting as you thought it would be. The people and heroes around here are smiling and waving towards you. You were handed a balloon with a crudely drawn face (it was meant to resemble you) with a many , “おめでとう” thrown your way as you and your boss entered the elevator.

“<Here we go! Can you stand?>” Red sets you down on your feet with ease as he presses the button to his floor. He drums his fingers across the steel doors then turn towards you with one of his award winning smiles. You swear it melt the steel in these elevators, it’s so bright. “<Not going to freak out on my again are you? Y/N>” He tested your name on his tongue, “<Am I saying that right? Ah, I forgot to ask, would you prefer Japanese> or English?” He look at you thoughtfully.

“That’s right. I have not been responding have I?”

“Nope! You have not but, that’s cool. I have a great feeling about you so, I know you’ll be a strong backbone to this company!”

All you could do was stare back in a dream-like state. Look at you! Shame! Getting all star-struck and dumb even being in this man’s presence. Tsk tsk. Better keep this conversation rolling so it doesn’t get awkward. “You were right..”

“Huh, right about what?

“My name. You said it correctly. Ha, pretty funny too, I’m used to people pronouncing it wrong.”

“Well, that’s not very fair to you. It’s your name and it’s a manly name!” Red puffed through his nostrils and smirked.

You bowed you head to hide your blush, “ Thank you, Red Riot.” Why are you acting like this it is so NOT professional at. All.

Red Riot let out a boisterous laugh that you swore shook the elevator, “You don’t have to refer to me by my hero name you know? Just call me Kirishima or even Kiri. Honestly, anything is cool as long as I don’t get called sir. That makes me feel old. Red Riot is reserved for field work though.” With that he winked at you.

“Oh, then, thank you Kir-!”

D I N G

“We’re here!!” He yoinks you from the elevator into his suave office, “ Hasa De Lo Eiji!!”

You heard Sero’s voice speak up, “Casa De La, Ei, casa de la...” He sitting upside down in one of Kirishima’s office chairs surfing his phone looking through Twatter. You thought he was ignoring you until he started waving and kicking his lanky legs excitedly.

Denki was just spinning in Kirishima’s main seat, “<YOU FOUND THEM, MAN?!>”

“<Well, they wasn’t exactly hiding and don’t think there’s many people of their skin tone here in Japan, Denk...>” You only caught a bits and pieces of their conversation, making you giggle a bit.

Denki looked over to you, “Oohoo, you like that, huh? Say how about we get to know each other better? One on one? There’s this really cool place in Shinjuku I’ve been dying to try. Would love to have someone to try it with. Being alone is such a bummer~” While Denki was distracted, Kirishima took his chance and sat in his friend’s lap causing Denki to sputter and attempt to push his taller, “built like a German, concrete home” friend off of him. Shame, you were actually about to take Denki up on his offer. You did want to see what Japan had to offer and it did suck to be alone sometimes.

The day continued as you four began to talk about you, their hero work, the past and, what was in store for the upcoming week. Soon, Denki and Sero left to attended to their own business (they went to Shinjuku), which just left you and Kirishima. You though it would it be awkward, however, it strangely felt like home. This was different from what your country’s media always portrayed of him: Hardy, cold and relentless. Even though that’s what drew you to him, this Kirishima was a nice change of pace as well.

“Hey, hey, Y/N you’re staring again.” The redhead smiled.

“Didn’t mean to, Kirishima. It’s just that you’re so different in real life! I hope you don’t mind me saying but, though you were this boulder of destruction.”

“Not too disappointing, I hope.” He leans his head in his hand, laughing a tiny bit.

“No! Of course not!”

“I’m joking, I’m joking!”

You both just laugh and it dies downs leaving a comfortable silence betwixt you again.

“Well, you got the job for sure!”

“Really t—that’s it?!”

“Yup”

“No strenuous questions?”

“Nope”

“No previous references or written letters from previous employers?”

“Nnurp” he audibly pop his lips to add emphasis to his negatory.

“No-“

“Do you want the job?”

“Of course! It’s just that yo-“

“Then you have it. I have a good feeling about you! I learned to trust my instincts. Obviously, yours brought here to freaking Japan-“

“Well, my friend sent me the email...”

“YOU put in for it and YOU got it. Enjoy it :)”

You rubbed your chin in thought. Starting to overthink the situation and your new way too laidback boss. Was this a mistake? Did I make a good call? As if he could read you mind, Kiri laid his firm hand upon your shoulder, “Let’s get some grub! I can take you home afterwards!”

With that, you’re new life began and with each day you grew more confident in your choices. You learned so many new tips and tricks, learned about and met new people (some more despicable then others), it was like a dream come true. First, you needed Kiri told hold your hand at the beginning, which made you doubt yourself from time to time. However, you got better and faster, already your talent to the max.

The only thing you hated doing the most were the public conferences. They always asked the same questions hoping for different answers or asked about way too personal questions about the heroes within Kirishima’s agency. Questions that would make the man on moon blush. However, you always seemed to Beyoncé your way out of their scandalous questions and steer it right back to where you wanted it.

Of course, your work never went unnoticed or unappreciated. The agency always made sure to make feel wanted and needed. Hah, Bakugo even came in and tried to recruit you for his own agency, in front of your boss. It’s all just been so crazy. It’s almost insane to think it’s almost been a year here. You even remember your old life. To think, you thought the email was a joke. What would I be doing if I never answered it... No point on dwelling on it you guess.

You hear heavy footsteps coming toward your door.

*Clink Click*

“Hmm, I thought these lights shut off automatically... strange” It was your boss! “Let me flu-Oh! Oh, you’re still here?! Y/N , it’s practically morning right now. Why are you still working?”

“You wouldn’t know I was still here if you weren’t here yourself so, Red, what’s your excuse?” You looked up at him playfully smug.

You don’t remember if he’s been flushed from rushing into the office or for his new nickname but, he looked away and swore he tripped on his words when he spoke. “Other than it being my agency, Y/N so, MY responsibility, I like to go for early morning runs. You could probs just call it conditioning from school days. It helps keep my mind from overthinking I guess.

“Overthinking? About what?”

“Heh, what not about” There was a strange unplaceable tone in his voice. He said that sentence barely above a whisper but, you caught it. Kirishima look back towards you and beams. Is he- is he putting up a mask?! Not wanting to strain your work relationship you choose not to press him on the matter. Turning back to your desktop to continue your work until Kiri blocked it. Damn his thick man body!

“Could you please move,Kirishima.”

“Nuh-uh, not until you tell me why you’re still up here working at this ungodly hour.”

You leaned into your seat giving up on trying to move him, you sigh and then smile to yourself not sure if he could see it or not, “ Fine, I’ll spill. I work this late because I love this job. Nowhere else has given me this opportunity and I’m so thankful. I’ve felt so lost for the longest and about gave up on myself. I work this late because I love my friend, they were the ones who even let this opportunity land in my lap even though, they could have easily taken this job. They had more experience. I love my coworkers. Ha, I’ve never been so overwhelmed by support by so many strangers. It’s really emotional and I would hate to let them down. I do all of this because I love and appreciate you, Red... you’ve always stayed by my side and gave encouragement when I needed. Lacking in my work would be like spitting in your face and I would hate for that to happen...”

You keep your eyes shut for a few more seconds soaking in what you just said. It’s been eating at you forever. You’ve long forgotten about how Kiri was like a barnacle stuck to screen and I guess he did as well, seeing as was standing up straight, mouth opening and closing and fiddling with his hands. You look up at him, “That’s why I’m here. You don’t have to worry over me. I’m not a child. Plus, I got YOU and your HERO amigos/amigas on speed dial.” Sero’s been trying to teach you Spanish 💀, it is not working.

“...Do you mean that? You love me?”

“Of course I do, Red.” Kirishima drawn closer to Y/N, “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I just thought it would be too soon to make a call..”

“I love you , Kirishima...”

“Y-you could call me, Eij-“

“As much as I love Sero and Denki! You all mean so much to me!”

You noted that Kirishima seemed to deflate at your next sentence and even took a step back, “Red, you okay? Need water?”

Kiri shook his head, “N-No I guess I’m just coming down from my runners high! Ha, it always makes me a bit woozy y’know.”

“Oh~”

“Yeahhhh. Welp! Just dont Forget it’s your day off tomorrow okay. No coming in! No matter how much you //luhhhh// us.” That was weird. Luh? ,”Oh I also have a question. The hero gala is coming up soon and we have to bring a +1. Would you like to come with me? I’ll cover your clothes~!”

“The Hero Gala?? Are you sure wouldn’t you want to bring another, I don’t know, hero?”

“Well, I could but, I asked you. You were my first choice either way. If it’ll help you could think about it like good PR.”

As you always do, you think about it. Unlike the other times, your mind was already made up.

“Yes, Red, I would love to go.”

#bnha x black!reader #y/n x bnha #y/n x mha #y/n x kirishima #y/n #fanfic #reader x kirishima #mha x black!reader #mha kirishima #pro hero kirishima #mha #bnha

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rons-hermiones · 4 years ago

Text

Come Find Me

by rons-hermiones

Summary: Unplanned, Hermione is forced to spend Christmas at the Burrow due to her grandmother falling very ill. After being ignored by Hermione for weeks, Ron is determined to show her how much she means to him. Just before he gets the chance to tell her, Bellatrix Lestrange shows up with other plans for Hermione. Can Ron get to her before it's too late? (Ron/Hermione Half-Blood Prince AU)

Rating: M for language & dark themes in later chapters.

Chapter Nine

Soon after breakfast Hermione disappeared back to Ginny’s room, she traded in her flannel pants for sweats. Keeping on her navy jumper, she threw on a warm cloak from her trunk and snuck into the garden.

Despite the cold, the outdoors were refreshing. Something about being outside just calmed her, helped clear her head a bit.

Slumping against her new favorite spot, an old oak tree, she pulled out the very book she’s kept to herself for weeks. Hermione begins to read it, eyes skimming the same passages over and over, jotting down important points in her notebook.

Like usual, she was so engrossed in her task at hand, she failed to notice someone walking toward her.

“Bonjour mon chèri.” Fleur’s smooth voice announces, seemingly floating over to Hermione through the breeze.

At first the brunette jumps at the surprise, having been tense lately, but soon she relaxes. Fleur was just about the only person she was willing to talk to these days.

Like Hermione, she had been feeling out of place, trying to find her footing. And sure they were in two completely different situations, one being engaged to a Weasley, the other pining after one, but it was oddly comforting to not feel so alone.

“Bonjour Fleur, comment allez-vous?” Another bonus, is that for whatever reason, the blonde reminded her eerily of her grandmother.

Maybe it was because they both lived out their days in France and Hermione was trying to cling onto anything when it came to her Gran as of late, but Fleur’s presence allowed her to think of the woman without feeling sad. To just remember her how she is, a kind, loving woman.

“Bonne.” She smiles, Hermione just now notices the blanket in her hand, “I’ve been sent on a mission to keep you warm!” She giggles, subtly nodding to the window.

Hermione looks over to find Ron standing there watching them, but as soon as her eye catches him, he drops the curtain like he was never there.

“Oh, I’m fine.” She tells the woman, quickly closing her journal and book.

“Well, I was given very serious orders that I get this quilt to you.” Then, she drops on the grass next to the younger girl.

She grits her teeth, “you can tell whoever sent you that if they want me to have that, they should’ve come themselves.” And she doesn’t even know why she said it, Hermione has in fact been avoiding Ron.

“I said the same.” The blonde states, “but you seem to make poor Ronald rather nervous.”

Hermione remains silent as she begins to pick at the quilt Fleur’s laid over them.

“I know what happened.” The older girl states after a moment.

Her eyes snapped to Fleur’s blue ones, “you do?” She sounds strangled.

Curtly, the blue eyed woman nodded, “of course. Ronald writes Bill about any chance he can and Bill can only offer so much advice about girls.”

She scoffed before she could help it, “yeah, pretty girls like you, and Lavender Brown, or even,”

Fleur cut her off, “they were all about you mon chèri.”

At this a twisted laugh left Hermione’s throat.

“No je jure!” She exclaimed, “Every night Bill comes to bed and reads his letters, he suggested I should join him to practice some English. At first it helped, but now I am invested!”

“Nice to know my life is entertainment, Fleur.” Hermione teased with a small smile.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that!” She defended, but then noticed the smile on the younger girls face, “alright well, it is entertaining. Anyway, if Ronald knew I read them or am telling you about it, he’d surely die from embarrassment.”

In turn, the witch just scrunches her brow, imploring the woman to go on.

Fleur clears her throat and sits up, “Oh Bill!” She starts in her best English accent and Ron impression, stifling a laugh from Hermione, “Almost died again tonight! Hermione saved me, again! She is brilliant, oh Bill,” she gasps dramatically, “I need something to get her for Christmas, but she’s already perfect! What do I do? Please write.”

“No way.” Hermione laughs at Fleur’s impression and at the dramatic recap.

“I swear it! Recently his letters have been a lot more, how do you say?” She pauses, “pathetic.”

“Go on then.” Hermione encourages liking the amusement of Fleur’s performance as Ron, as well as the additional information.

“Bill I am a,” she thinks for the exact word, “a tosser! A right tosser!” Hermione laughs, that was something Ron would say, “I have messed up terribly, Hermione, she’ll never speak to me again and I can’t blame her.”

Suddenly, Hermione’s brown eyes go wide as Fleur goes on, this time dropping back to her normal voice, speaking softly, “It’s so hard without her and I would give anything to make things right.” She finished.

The brunette's vision began to blur, “he really wrote that?” She asked hoarsely.

In turn the French woman nodded, “every word.”

A tear slipped down Hermione’s cheek at the knowledge. Knowing Ron missed her too made things even harder. She doesn’t think she has it in him to talk things out and go back to how things were. She’s too scared to be hurt again, she doesn’t know if she’ll survive.

“Look Hermione,” she sighs sadly, “I understand that things between you and Ron are complicated and that you are hurt. We all see that, he sees it more than anyone, and he’s been beating himself over it since.”

“Fleur, I,” she begins to protest.

“I am not saying you should forgive him just like that, what I’m telling you is that he knows he’s hurt you and it’s killing him. Just give him a chance mon chèrie.”

She contemplates this for a few moments. Her heart aches for Ron. It’s kind of backwards that she feels bad because he’s aching for how he hurt her, and she feels bad about it. It’s like she just can’t scrub him out of her life, no matter how much she thinks he wants her gone, she knows that’s not the case.

And Fleur’s right, she isn’t ready to forgive him, she probably won’t be ready to for a long time, but she is willing to take a step with him. To hear him out and just try and understand, but when the time is right.

“Okay.” She says simply, wiping at her eyes with her wrists.

The blonde plants a warm kiss on her bushy hair and moves to stand up.

“Stay warm.” She flashes her a small smile as she works her way back into the house.

“Fleur!” She calls before she can help herself.

The French woman turns eyes wide with curiosity.

“Not that I’m not grateful, but why did you tell me?” Hermione just needed to know.

Again a smile sat on her pretty face, “because us girls, we need to look out for each other, especially here,” she gestured to the Burrow where eight men were currently residing, “you and I especially.” Subtly hinting that the only two other women were Weasley’s themselves.

A small smile now stretched on Hermione’s lips, “thank you Fleur.”

And with a wink the blonde walked back into the house knowing if she and Ron got through this, one day Hermione would surely be her sister.

...

“Fleur’s been out there a long time, what do you reckon they’re talking about?” Ron asked, still looming by the window.

“I dunno, you.” Harry shrugged over his Quidditch magazine.

“Hardy har.” Ron shot back sarcastically.

“Have you figured out what you’re gonna do tomorrow, with your gift and all?” He asked casually.

“How’d you hear about that!” Ron bellowed embarrassed.

The chosen one dropped his magazine to his lap, eyeing his friend, “the whole house knows by now, except Hermione.” He shrugged.

“I’m gonna hex the bollocks off Bill.”

“Wasn’t Bill, it was Charlie.” The green eyed boy corrected.

Ron rolled his eyes, “even better.”

“Well,” Harry drawled, “Ginny told me Hermione’s trunk is overflowing with gifts.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

The ginger shook his head, “doubt she got me anything mate, not unless it’s puking pastilles, you know, without the purple end.”

“Oi, that’s my best mate you’re going on about, don’t you doubt for a second that she wouldn’t get you anything.” He said annoyed with Ron’s lack of faith.

Weasley said nothing and continued to poke his head out the window, quickly jumping away when Hermione’s brown eyes found his.

“You and Hermione may not be speaking but she does care. I reckon that’s the problem, that she cares too much.”

He drops his hand from where they’re clutching the tattered drapes, “I know that Harry.” Ron says defeatedly.

“You seem to be forgetting.” He sits up, “I know for a fact she’d die for you Ron, even now, even when you two aren’t speaking.” Harry states.

Ferociously, the red head shakes his head, “don’t say things like that. I don’t wanna think about that.” His response was reaching that of when Fred made his Death Eater joke yesterday.

Sensing his best friend's rising temper, he quickly averts the subject, “so when are you gonna give her it? The gift.”

Ron shrugs, his initial plan was to give it to her privately, explain everything behind it, but as Christmas closed in he grew more nervous. “Leave it under the tree?” His voice is high and squeaky.

“Ron,” the dark haired boy grumbled, “again my knowledge about girls is limited, especially when trying to think about Hermione like that.” He squirmed, “But I think if you put this much into the gift, you might as well explain why.”

“It’s not easy.” He admits quietly, plopping onto the couch, “it wasn’t easy telling you, or Ginny, or even breaking up with Lavender.”

Harry shakes his head, “I think that’s the whole point Ron, if things were easy then we wouldn’t know how much we wanted them.” He said quietly, silently reflecting on his own wishes.

“Harry Potter,” Ron said after a moment, “when did you get so poetic?” He teased.

In response the chosen one laughed and chucked his magazine at the gingers head.

“I reckon I’m rather tired of watching some tosser feel sorry about himself.”

“Who ever could you mean Potter?” He joked.

“Hmm, tall, red hair, blue eyes, I think he’s Gryffindor keeper. What’s his name? Roger? Rupert?” He suddenly sounds a lot like Slughorn.

“Shove it.” He chuckled, “I don’t even know what I’d say.” Ron commented.

Harry sat up and went to the edge of the couch cushion, scooting closer, “pretend I’m Hermione.”

His face scrunches, “what? No! That’s bloody weird.”

“Come on Ron! You need all the help you can get. I don’t think anyone can handle this from the two of you anymore.” The chosen one encourages.

From the rare good mood Harry seems to be in Ron complies.

“Hermione, would you please,” he notices Harry watching him, “can’t you like... look away?” His friend rolled his eyes and kept staring at Ron, “would you please come outside with me, I’d like to give you something.”

“No Ronald!” Harry shrieked in his best Hermione voice.

“Harry what the hell? You’re supposed to make this easy!” Ron countered.

“Well would she?” The dark haired boy asked.

“Good point,” the ginger agreed, clearing his throat, “anyway, it would really mean a lot to me and I’d like to talk to you.” He tried entering the act again.

“Oh so now you want to talk?” The Boy-Who-Lived asked, impersonating his best friend quite poorly.

“Harry.” He groans.

“Fine, fine.” He stops, “let’s talk.”

Averting his blue eyes from green ones, he envisions Hermione somewhere in the room, “I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am for hurting you. I know that it won’t fix anything, but I’m through with Lavender, we should’ve never been together. Not when it was hurting you and you don’t have to tell me why, I knew it was, so I’m sorry. I really am, I just hope you can find it in yourself to consider forgiving me. I’ll be here, however long it takes.” He rambles out, momentarily forgetting Harry was even there.

“Is this when we snog?” The chosen one says, interrupting the daze.

“Oh shove off.” He grunted back annoyed.

“I thought you did good Ron, I’m sure you’ll have to account for at least two interruptions, but, I think it’s a start.” Harry’s voice is now serious.

“And that’s all I’m asking for, a start.” He clears up.

“Well as long as you buck up tomorrow, that’s what you’ll get.”

Before Ron can even answer, Harry’s green eyes find the window. Abruptly, Weasley turns and panics.

“Fleur’s coming back! Act casual.” He jumped to the couch and acted as if he were napping, leaving a laughing Potter.

The door soon opened as Fleur appeared, “Bonjour boys.”

“Oh hey there Fleur, didn’t even notice you came in.” The redhead states, causing Harry to chuckle even more.

The blonde rolled her eyes, knowing what he was doing, “you know Ronald,” she began, too casual for his liking, “I’ve been told by someone, that next time you’re to give them something you should do it yourself.” Obviously she was referring to the blanket, but Ron’s mind jumped to the gift in his room.

“I told him the same!” Harry called happily in agreement.

“Oui, smart boy.” She praised me.

“Alright, alright, I get it. I swear the next thing I need to give Hermione will come directly from my hands. No one else’s.” He promises.

Fleur stares at him for a moment before a grin stretches across her face, “good Ron, for a moment I was worried you were a, what was it? A right tosser.” She says before leaving the room.

For a moment he’s left shocked by her words, wondering why she’d say such a thing. Then suddenly, his mind flashed to how he closed every single letter to Bill: A right tosser, Ron.

“Oh Merlin,” he grumbled red as a tomato, “Bill!” He bellows as Fleur’s giggles float from the steps.

#ron x hermione #ron weasley #hermione granger #ron and hermione #rons-hermiones come find me #hp fanfic #hp #romione #romione fanfic #sixth year

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illfoandillfie · 4 years ago

Text

5 Simple Rules For A Successful Fake Relationship: The Perfect Match (Epilogue)

5 SIMPLE RULES MASTERLIST

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

Summery: What happens after you tell Ben you love him?

Warnings: SMUT (18+), oral sex (f receiving, implied male receiving), fingering, nipple play, it’s mostly just fluffy bullshit lmao

Words: 7129

A/N: Epilogue time! Apologies for taking so long to get this written, it’s been a rough few weeks. But we’re finally here!

Taglist: @laedymoon @dtfrogertaylor @vee-ndetta @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @supersonicfreddie @taron-egrotten @johndeaconshands @borhapbois

@coni-martina @hardforbenhardy @cubedtriangle @vicouscirce @arianabrashierstuff @pattieboydwannabe @maggieroseevans @theprettyandthereckless

Being in Barcelona with Ben was like having a fresh start. One without intrusive photographers or the pressure of being walking advertisements for a movie. You almost had to physically push Ben out of the hotel on the first morning you were there. He was reluctant to leave you but, being lead actor, couldn’t exactly skip work. At any rate, you wouldn’t let him. It wasn’t so bad spending the day holed up in his suite. You went back to bed after he’d left and then, once properly rested, put music on as you caught up on emails and the like. In the afternoon you popped downstairs to explore the square the suite looked out on, visiting a quaint little bookstore, a shop full of touristy knickknacks, and a cute café that sold maybe the strongest coffee you’d ever had. Having so much time to yourself also gave you a chance to call Felicity and have a long conversation with her, filling her in on exactly what had happened after you got on the plane. She was thrilled to hear it had gone well and took a large part of the credit for herself.

“Afterall, I was the one who told you to get off your arse. If I hadn’t you’d still be crying in bed,” You laughed and conceded she had a point, “but you’re not the only one who gets credit,” “Fine, but it’s like 90% down to me.”

But, even with so much to occupy you, by the end of the day you were eager for Ben to get back, bored of being on your own, ready to have the conversation you’d both been too tired to fully have the previous night. When he di[d finally walk through the door it was obvious he was just as keen to see you. You heard the thump of his backpack hitting the floor just inside the door and then him calling your name. He found you on the couch and rushed up behind you, leaning in for a kiss when you tilted your head back to greet him. “I love being able to do that,” he said softly as he sat down, making you smile. He asked how your day had been as you shuffled closer, letting him drape an arm around you and pull you against his chest. And for a while that was all you talked about, your day and his, everything you’d got up to. His had been a little busier, working with the stunt coordinator and fight choreographer in the morning so they could film the scene in the afternoon. Completely different from the prep you’d done for The Perfect Match, but you could tell how much he enjoyed it from the way he spoke about it. Even if he did end up with a few bruises as proof of his hard work. Before long though you had to address the question hanging over your heads, had to have the talk. It wasn’t an easy conversation. It took some time and meant being open about the previous few months – the insecurities and fears that had kept you from recognising and acting on your feelings, the impact being in the public eye had on you, the pros and cons of dating another actor and, perhaps most importantly, potential challenges you would face because of your previous history. You both readily admitted there’d been some rough moments when you’d handled things poorly and the question had to be asked of if you’d be able to move on from those patches and any wounds they’d caused. Any lingering reservations you had about Ben and his willingness to make it work were quickly put to rest. He was the first to offer up his vulnerabilities, both personal and professional, and discuss the space where they intersected with you. It was all you needed to be fully assured he was in it for the long haul. Of course, you reciprocated his openness with confessions of your own, harder to get out than you’d imagined, but he was patient and leant you a reassuring hand squeeze when you needed it. It wasn’t exactly fun but it was a necessary evil. And by the time you were done you both knew exactly where you stood and were in agreement about how to move forward, making it all worthwhile.

Neither of you felt much like going out afterwards though so you ordered room service, making sure to get a bottle of wine with the food, and celebrated quietly. Ben ran down to the nearest store and bought a few candles to make it seem a little more romantic and promised to take you out on a proper date the next night. “So would that be our first date? Or does everything from before count too?” you asked around a mouthful of food, looking at Ben across the candle lit table. “Huh, good question. I think it counts,” “Really?” you laughed, “I was about to say it doesn’t. It was all planned by other people and not really…real,” “Hey, not everything was planned out for us. That date where we painted mugs was all my idea and, might I add, something I’d thought about specifically to impress you. It was on my list of potential dates in case I got the chance to ask you out after we wrapped. Same goes for that brunch place I took you and the ice skating rink. Also those dates were part of what me fall for you so they kind of have to count.” You had to smile at that, “When did you know?” “Uh,” Ben dropped his gaze to where his hand lay on the table, “Our first date.” “Really?” “I’d already liked you for a while and then you went and decorated a mug with lyrics from the song I heard every time I looked at you.” It wasn’t until after he’d finished speaking that he lifted his eyes again, giving a small shrug. “That’s so ridiculously sweet, Ben, I might have to kiss you about it.” “Well I’m a sweet guy Y/N,” he was almost laughing when you made good on your threat, standing up from your side of the table and nearly pouncing on him. He just pulled you further onto his lap, the dinner forgotten as you revelled in the knowledge that making out was allowed now, encouraged even. “You wanna move this to the bedroom?” Ben asked, illuminated by the dancing flames more than the lights you’d left on. “I don’t normally sleep with a guy on the first date,” you said, pretending to weigh up your options as you twirled a strand of Ben’s hair around your finger. “We just agreed it’s not our first date. Closer to our fifty first probably.” “Hmmm, you make some good points, babe,” His face lit up and you nearly fell of his lap as he sat forward, “are we allowed to do pet names again?” You groaned into his shoulder but he just chuckled “You wanna move this to the bedroom, cuddle bunny?” “I hate you,” “No you don’t,” you could tell he was grinning, even with your face buried in the crook of his neck. “Little bit.” “Aww c’mon cuddle bunny, don’t be like that. I’ll make you feel real good.” “I don’t know Ben, you’ve got a lot to live up to.” “I do?” “You don’t remember? First night I stayed over at yours you made some pretty big claims about what you were capable of. Said if anyone asked I should tell them I came like three times,” you put air quotes around his words. “So you’re saying if I prove that I really am that good, you won’t complain about cuddle bunny or any other nickname I come up with?” “I never said that,” “You basically did and the challenge has been accepted.” You broke into giggles as he pushed you from his lap, only to lurch forward and kiss you, smiling himself. He led you into the next room, discarding clothes along the way.

***

You laughed as you sat on the bed, watching as Ben hopped through the doorway on one foot, trying to kick his pants off his other leg as he went. Your shirt and bra had been lost somewhere between the table and the bed, his shirt discarded even earlier. He gave you a slightly sheepish smile as he finally managed to free himself from the jeans and followed you towards the bed. You leaned back, still on the edge of the bed, propping yourself up on your hands to keep your eyes locked on him and he followed, caught your lips again though softer than before, one hand hovering just above your shoulder, fingertips barely grazing you. It was miles from the first time you’d slept with him, when you’d both been full of alcohol induced confidence and a lack of clear thought. You pushed yourself closer to try and let him know he could be firmer, that you’d like it if he was. Instead he pulled back even more. “Is something wrong? Do you not want to do this?” “No, no I absolutely do. Just,” he smiled again, the shy half smile that made him seem even more boyish than usual, “you’re gorgeous and I kinda can’t believe this is happening. Again. Just give me a second to let it sink in.” “Benjamin I swear, if you start crying,” “I’m not going to cry,” he chuckled, “probably.” You waited, watched his eyes roam over every inch of you from your hairline to your waist, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. Finally he kissed you again, already almost breathless, his hand cupping your jaw as if he had to work up to touching you elsewhere. Slowly his touch fell lower, neck, collarbone. When he grazed your breast he pulled his hand back again but you hummed at the contact and he replaced it. You stopped holding yourself up, let yourself lay back against the mattress as his lips moved to your throat, his thumb teasing the nipple it found to a stiff peak. It left your hands free to wrap around him, hold him against you. “Do you mind if I leave some marks?” “Go ahead,” you said, far more concerned about losing the feeling of his mouth on you than what would be left when he was done. You felt him nuzzle his nose against the underside of your jaw, and then a tingle down your spine as he found a spot to leave a large purple bruise, close to where he’d first given you a hickey at your request. You made a low hum and tilted your head to the side, exposing more of your neck to him, and he delighted in filling the space with more marks. Three along the column of your neck, one on your sternum and one on your right breast. “How’s it look?” you asked, as he raised his head from your chest. “Perfect. But that could just be because your boobs are right in my face. Very nice view.” You gave him a light pinch for his cheek but he didn’t react, far more interested in creating another hickey on your chest. “Hope you weren’t planning on filming any topless scenes anytime soon,” he mumbled, moving to repeat the process on your other breast, “makeup’ll have a hell of a time covering all these.”

By the time Ben was ready to continue his trail lower you were aching for more. Your underpants were slick with your need, nipples hard as Ben’s saliva caught the cold air he blew over them. Again you were struck by how different to last time it was. Then it had been fast, only minutes between being pushed up against the door and having his fingers in you. But now? Now Ben was taking his time. You understood why, of course. Back then you’d been trying to reach the end before either of you could think for half a second about it being a bad idea. You’d been drunk and clueless about how much you’d both wanted it to happen. All you’d had to do was palm him over his pants and he was raring to go. Not so much this time. He was certainly worked up, you’d found as much when you’d tried to cop a feel. But he stopped you before you got too far, laced his fingers through yours so you couldn’t stroke him off. He responded to your whine with a line about having a reputation to live up to and then let go of your hand as he slipped off your lap to the floor. He made you wait as he tugged your pants from your legs and then left another mark on your hip. You opened your legs wider for him, earning a small nip against your thigh. “Wish I’d done this for you last time,” he said softly, kissing the spot that was still tingling from the scrape of his teeth. You propped yourself up on your elbows to watch, “If you’d done this last time I’d have confessed my love a whole lot faster. Could-coluld’ve saved me the cost of the flight here.” You voice shook as he pressed his tongue to your soaked underwear and you briefly wished you’d packed some actual lingerie and not just your every-day sensible cotton knickers, but Ben clearly didn’t mind. “Cute panties,” he said between sucks through the material, “that wet patch from your pussy or my mouth?” He laughed as he pulled them off you, dropping them unceremoniously to the side as he sat up higher on his knees.

The next thing you knew was Ben’s fingers on either side of your lips, pulling you open. He glanced up at you, grinned when you whined softy, didn’t break eye contact as he dragged his tongue over you. No more build up, no more playful comments as he took his time exploring you. Just his mouth on you, determinedly pushing you to the edge. You let your head fall back with a squeak as he nudged your clit with his nose, following it up by sucking the nub into his mouth, pulling a moan from you. Your breath caught when he slid two fingers along your slit, coating them in your arousal and a whiny expletive was your response to one entering you. Ben pulled back and gave you a wink as he added another finger. You’d have told him off for being so cocky if you hadn’t felt so good. Instead you fell back to the mattress completely. “That feel good baby?” He asked between licks, stretching you out, trying to find the same spot he’d reached last time. “So good Ben,” “I love the way you say my name.” He pressed a third finger into you, shifted the angle slightly, and without thinking you twisted a hand into his hair, let him hear his name again. He hummed though you weren’t sure what caused it, only that it felt incredible, his lips wrapped around your clit. With soft encouragement he made you tip over the edge, squirming under him as you rode it out. He was gentle when he pulled his fingers from you and left a kiss against your thigh, waiting for you to come back to earth before he began gloating. “That’s one. How do you want the next? Same thing?” It took you a moment to figure out what he meant but he filled the time by kissing a path back up to your lips, shorter than the trip down had taken. “Well? What next?” he asked again when it seemed like you weren’t going to reply. “I could blow you,” you said, once again dropping your hand to try and rub him through his underwear. “Save that for another time. I’ve got a promise to make good on and an adorable nickname to give you.” “I was hoping you’d say that. Really want you in my pussy.” Ben laughed and leaned in to kiss you again, evidence from your orgasm still on his lips and chin, before pushing himself away to finish undressing. You watched him closely, taking in the V that was exposed and the light trail of hair leading under his waistband, the way his thumbs hooked into the material, the slightly theatrical wiggle he made to shake his pants off, how the second he was free of the fabric his hand came up to stroke over his length, seeking some brief relief. He turned away to grab a condom and you made yourself comfortable on the bed, moving to lay back against the pillows rather than hanging over the edge. And then Ben was practically diving on top of you, making you giggle as he kissed you again and again and again. Until he stopped to sit back on his legs, tearing open the condom with his teeth. “Can I?” you asked, pulling your lip between your teeth. “Sure,” As Ben nodded you sat forward, took the condom from him and closed your other hand around him. “Shhhhit,” he breathed out,” “C’mon babe, ‘m already h-hard. Just wanna be in you.” You hummed in agreement but took your time rolling the latex down his shaft as you pulled him into another kiss, thoroughly enjoying the noises he made in response. Soft throaty sounds, little whines muffled by your lips. You would have been happy just jerking him off except for the needy throbbing between your legs that made you hyper aware of how empty you were. “Lie back for me,” he said softly as soon as you pulled your hand away. You did as requested, settling back against the pillows once more. Ben nudged your legs open wider and finally sank into you, both of you gasping at the feeling. You moaned softly when he slowly pulled back and thrust forward again, wrapped your legs around him because it was the only way you could think of to get him closer. Carefully he took one of your hands in his, laced his fingers through yours and then repeated it with the other hand, holding them against the mattress as he fucked into you. His forehead dropped to yours as he let a curse slip into the air, “Didn’t a-appreciate your pussy enough last time. So fucking tight.” You couldn’t think how to respond, just squeezed his hands, your breath catching in your throat as he rolled his hips against you. He kept the pace steady as he caught your lips again, less coordinated kisses that didn’t always get you full on the mouth as you moved with each measured thrust. Each one seemed to make it harder for you to breathe, your breaths coming in short pants, often accompanied by small whiny noises as you felt yourself getting close again. “Yeah?” Ben asked against your ear, a response to a particularly drawn out whine, “that good, huh?” If you’d been able to form coherent sentences you would have come up with some sort of witty way to tell him you needed more stimulation to actually get off. Instead all you managed to do was stumble through the words close, please, more as he nibbled on your earlobe. “Show me,” he rasped, releasing one of your hands so you could slip it between your bodies. I wasn’t long before the speed of your fingers on your clit outstripped Ben’s movement, your growing need to finish pushing you to rub faster, press harder. He groaned into your neck as you finally hit the edge and pulsed around him, pulled out before it became too much. You let your legs fall from where you’d hooked them around him though you whined at the loss. “Don’t worry,” he said softly as he took your hand and lifted it from your cunt, “more where that came from.” Ben pulled your hand towards him, leaning in to close the gap and suck your fingers into his mouth. You were sure you could have cum from that alone if he hadn’t already made you cum twice.

It didn’t make it easy to catch your breath or calm down entirely, but Ben was content to wait, thoroughly cleaning your fingers before he released them. He pressed a kiss to the inside of your wrist before he let you take your hand back. You let out a shaky breath as you looked up at him and almost laughed, “Jesus,” He stroked your leg gently, “Still one more to go, if you’re up for it. Not too sensitive?” “A little but I should be okay.” “Good. I really wanna give you that nickname. Annoy everyone else with how fucking adorable we are” “Shouldn’t have reminded me what the stakes are, maybe I am too sensitive,”

“What if I said I just wanted to fuck you until I cum then? More acceptable?” That did make you laugh, “Much more acceptable.” Ben grinned, his tongue darting out from between his teeth, and then readjusted your position. His arm wrapped around your hips, pulling you up into the air, as he leaned on the other and slid back in, deeper than before. “This okay?” “Y-yeah, yes,” As soon as he knew you were okay with the new position he began moving, faster than before. The angle he held you in meant he was hitting your sweet spot consistently which, aside from feeling good, meant your clit got a bit of a break. It felt even better when he dropped his head forward and gently tugged on your nipple with his teeth. You brought one hand up to grab his hair as he switched to soothing the nipple with his tongue. You had a hard time getting out anything other than a few curses and his name as his thrusts became more urgent but Ben had no trouble telling you how good you felt. Well, some trouble. His words came out stuttered and breathless and interrupted by curses of his own or sometimes muffled by your breasts. But that was a turn on in itself. Hearing Ben losing control, coming apart, because of you. It was enough to make you want to cum faster so you could hear him moan through his own release. You remembered what he sounded like last time and were eager to hear it again. So once again you let your fingers find your clit, shivering at the slight discomfort as you tried to match Ben’s rhythm. “God I’m gonna,” you managed to choke out, fingers tightening in Ben’s hair. “P-please Y/N, cum. I ne-ed you to cum.” Your voice caught in your throat as you tipped over the edge again, Ben doing his best to hold you up as he lasted about a second longer, pretty moans spilling from his lips.

***

Afterwards you could barely find it in you to move. You stumbled on jelly legs towards the bathroom as Ben cleared away the condom and straightened the sheets, ready for you to curl up with him. You had just enough energy to fall into bed and lean your head on his chest. He pulled the covers over your legs and stroked your hair with one hand, his fingers catching in the odd tangle though he was careful not to pull too hard. His other hand smoothed up and down your arm, so gently it took you a few passes to notice. He was quiet for a while, watching you relax against him. And then, seemingly out of nowhere, “Think that means I win, right cuddle bunny? Or do you prefer honey bunch? Snuggle bug? Sugar bear? I could go on,” “I think cuddle bunny might actually be the lesser of all those evils,” you mumbled. “You sure that’s not cause you got used to it and now you kinda like it?” You gave a non-committal hum in response. Ben’s chest shook as he laughed but he protested when you made to sit up, assuring you he liked having you leaning on him like that, “Told you before, I like being the boyfriend and what kind of a boyfriend would I be if I didn’t let you use me as a pillow?” You couldn’t help but smile when you heard Ben refer to himself that way, happily settling back against him. He was right, the title suited him. You couldn’t wait to introduce him as such to Felicity and your other friends.

You stayed in Barcelona with Ben for a few weeks. Once or twice you snuck a peek at a gossip blog or a twitter hashtag, but most people’s attention seemed to be diverted from you onto other unlucky couples. There were a few threads about you not being home and a handful of photos of Ben and other cast mates taken from their Instagram accounts, sometimes accompanied by speculation of if their relationship was purely professional, but nothing much else. You were both thankful for that. It was easier to find your feet as an actual real couple without being hounded about it or seeing speculation about yourselves. You were free to visit restaurants and tourist spots on dates, explore the city together on days Ben wasn’t filming, just be more or less normal. A few times you accompanied Ben to set or out with the rest of the cast, listening in as they teased him for how much happier he was now that you’d arrived. There were a couple of sticky beak questions about the breakup the first time you joined them for dinner, but you laughed it off as nothing more than misinformed rumours and they readily believed you. Aside from being contractually obligated to keep the secret, it was just easier to pretend the previous few months had been real than try to explain it all. Of course, pretending was made all the easier by Felicity and Joe knowing. Joe had been happy when Ben told him the good news. He’d been a little annoyed too and threated Ben with the silent treatment, claiming it’s what he deserved for being so stupid, the sudden click of him hanging up startling you both. Ben’s phone rang again about thirty seconds later as Joe called back to claim responsibility for your reunion. “I totally knew you idiots liked each other and if I hadn’t helped, Y/N never would have got to Spain.” Ben leaned in to where his phone rested on the table, speaker on, “If you knew why didn’t you tell me she was into me?” “Pretty sure I tried! But you were too hung up on being all heartbroken to listen to me.” “Umm incorrect,” “Should have heard yourself man, boo hoo Y/N doesn’t love me like I love her, wah wah wah. Didn’t want to hear anything else.” Ben flashed you a disapproving look when you let out a snort of laughter and then turned back to the phone, “You’re such a dickhead,” “Call me cupid, Benny boy, I’m the reason you’re not crying in the shower anymore.” “You’re fucking full of it, cupid,” “Go on Y/N, tell him I’m right,” “Well,” you said, trying not to laugh again, “Joe did tell me where to find you,” “Exactly!” came the shout from the phone, “Y/N, I’ll give you some of the credit for actually flying to Spain, but It’s like 85% down to me.” “You should meet my friend Felicity. You’d get along.”

On quieter days when everyone was doing their own thing and neither of you felt much like leaving the suite, you’d sit around and help Ben learn his lines or stretch over his lap and work on a crossword puzzle together. Although, that was if you made it out of bed. Ben ran through his condoms in the first week you were there, both of you eager to make up for the missed opportunities and all the time you’d spent pining for each other. More than once he came back to the hotel to find you wearing nothing but one of his shirts, which invariably ended with him between your legs in one way or another. Or, when he was flushed and sweaty from whatever action scene he’d been filming that day, he’d slyly announce he needed a shower and suggest you join him. But eventually the real world called, quite literally, in the form of Mary letting you know you’d got the part in the witch movie. It deserved a celebratory drink out at a bar the cast had found, where you and Ben riled each other up so much you had no choice but to relieve the tension the minute your door was shut behind you. And then again first thing the next morning. Unfortunately, you couldn’t stay more than a few days after that. You had to fly back home and begin prepping for your new role. Thankfully it was being filmed around London, saving you from having to head out to the US straight after getting home from Spain. But it did mean leaving Ben, an occurrence neither of you were thrilled about, feeling like you’d not had as much time together as you would have liked. You decided to do something special for your last night so Ben booked a table at a nearby restaurant. He met you there straight from set, wearing nice pants and a dressy shirt rather than the trackpants and ratty tee you'd seen him in that morning, where you surprised him with a bouquet of flowers similar to those he’d given you on your make-up date so long before. “I love them,” Ben laughed, kissing your cheek as he pulled you into a hug, “I think the colours make my eyes pop,” You playfully shoved him away towards the restaurant but he grabbed your hand and pulled you against him. He was about to kiss you when a familiar clicking sound distracted him. Both you and Ben looked around, surprised and confused, and saw a young woman walking down the street, fingers quickly taping against her phone. Ben ushered you inside the restaurant and, as soon as you took your seats, pulled out his phone. “Bad news. She tweeted it.” “Guess that means the honeymoon’s over,” you sighed. “And we were so close too. Fucking busted with about 10 hours to go.” “Oh well. S’pose everyone was gonna find out anyway. If it wasn’t now it would have been in a few weeks when you get back home.” “Not like we aren’t used to it. So how about,” he poured you both a glass of water from the bottle on the table, “a toast. To being so fucking interesting the whole world wants to know if we’re fucking.” You laughed as you clinked your glass against his a took a sip.

The pre-production part of your new movie kept you busy which had its pros and cons. On one hand it was tiring and a lot of new information to take in. On the other it kept you distracted from the distance between you and Ben and the barrage of questions you were receiving about him daily. You met the women who were playing your sisters and spent a lot of time rehearsing with them, particularly focused on learning how to pronounce the spells you’d be casting and the names of the potions you’d be mixing. Ben chuckled when you told him you’d spent an hour being coached on how to pronounce a single word, a process which included a basic Latin lesson and lots of repetition. “Well at least I didn’t end up with a black eye from it,” you said, pointing at him through the video chat screen. Over the weeks you’d been apart you’d relied heavily on phone conversations and face time calls to keep in contact. There’d been a visit or two when you had the chance but both of you were busy and keen not to be splashed through every gossip rag around so they were few and far between. The calls were easier, more private, and quickly became part of your wind down routine – come home, snuggle up on the couch, and talk to Ben for a few hours. “Hardly having fun if you can’t accidentally get knocked out by a poorly thrown weapon,” “I beg to differ, but you do you Benny,” you laughed, reaching for your coffee. The mug Ben had painted for you. He smiled when he saw it. “Aside from learning Latin and not being beaten up on a daily basis, how’s the movie going?” Ben asked as he reached behind him to adjust the pillow he was leaning against. “God it's been so good so far. The girls are so lovely and fun to be around. Plus, y’know, as someone who spent a lot of her childhood making mud potions in the backyard and playing Harry Potter, getting to run around throwing spells and stuff is kind of a dream come true.” He laughed again, “you’re such a nerd, I love you.” “Shut up. How’s it going in Spain?” “Well I have a black eye and I miss you so... Nah, it’s all going really well. Copped a bit of shit after you left,” Ben rolled his eyes, “apparently I was depressed. But this shoot has been so good. Gonna be kinda sad to be done.” “How much longer have you got?” “Couple of weeks, I think.” “You should come over to mine when you land, I’ll cook you dinner,” “Yeah? I’d like that.” “Course you will, nice home cooked meal, a blowjob, what’s not to like.” “I’ll let you know when my flight is so you can prepare – buy ingredients, do jaw stretches. What’re you laughing for? I’m serious, we both know how big I am.” He laughed, breaking the façade of seriousness as his tongue stuck out between his teeth. “Are you ready for it?” “Beyond ready, I miss sex.” “Not what I meant. There were a few paps waiting for me at the airport last time I was coming back from visiting you. Mostly yelling questions about if we’re really back together.” “How bad is it?” “Not as much attention as we were getting while we were doing press for the movie but it’s pretty annoying.” “They’ll calm down. After they see us a few times and they find someone else to lose their shit over.” “Yeah, probably. But you’re still good with this happening, even with the extra attention?” “Y/N, babe, we talked about this already. We always knew it was likely to happen and nothing’s changed since then. I still want to be with you.” “Just checking,” “I know. Now, I don’t have to be on set for another half hour so why don’t you tell me more about this blowjob I can expect.”

Ben was right, though it took longer to die down than you’d have liked. Felicity alerted you to a number of articles both in print and online after Ben got home. It almost felt like the days of promoting The Perfect Match – photos of you walking hand in hand and sitting at cafes and sneaking kisses on street corners being tweeted and commented on, articles about your latest date and speculation on if another breakup with imminent. The difference was this time you didn’t recognise the people taking the pictures. But, after a month or so, when it became clear you weren’t going to start arguing in fancy French restaurants again the magazines and websites started posting less and less. “It’s like Mary said,” Ben shrugged when you brought it up, “people like conflict and we’re not giving them any.” And that was true. Without the pressure of keeping your feelings hidden from each other or yourselves you were less prone to sulky silences and terse words. Plus no one was telling you to break up for attention. In fact, the months after Ben came back from Spain were better than you’d let yourself believe they would be. You were still working on the witch movie, working title: Toil and Troubles, spending most days and some nights bent over cauldrons of smoking liquid nitrogen and pink slime, or running through forests hoping your pronunciation was correct. Ben visited, sometimes to take you out to lunch or to drop off items you’d left at his place that you were bound to need. Convenient excuses. But welcome nonetheless. At the very least it was good practice for when you introduced him to your friends and family. Felicity insisted on meeting the man who’d caused her best friend so much heartache within the first week of his arrival, a situation that gave you more anxiety than any of the paparazzi ever would. But your worries were for nothing. Ben was perfectly charming and took Felicity’s one or two snide comments with good grace and a suitable amount of remorse. She pulled you aside later to let you know she approved and could see why you liked him so much. You breathed a sigh of relief at that, not needing her approval but glad to have it anyway. That first meeting made you less nervous about the ones that followed, even when it came to your blood relatives. And then, of course, you had to make good on your promise to his mum. He’d had to smooth things over with his family first, having made such a big deal about breaking up with you before he took off to Spain. They’d been surprised when he told them things weren’t working, having believed you quite happy during your visit, and more surprised when they saw you were back together. But if they thought Ben was making a mistake with rekindling the romance they didn’t show it. Angela and Keith welcomed you back to their home with warm smiles and more food than the four of you could eat. You left, still giggling at some of Ben’s baby photos, with a plate of leftovers in one hand and an invitation to come back soon.

It wasn’t until after Toil and Troubles wrapped that you decided to move in together. Ben suggested it casually one night while you were eating dinner in front of a rerun of Friends, the one where Chandler moves in with Monica. The suggestion was accompanied by a joke about how you’d been dating for nearly a year if you counted all the Perfect Match stuff, but you knew he wasn’t really joking. You’d been thinking about it too. You flipped a coin to see who’d be selling their place and didn’t complain when it was you. Ben’s house was already your second home, might as well make it your only one. Luckily, with your movie having started post-production, neither of you were filming and so were free to jump into the process of packing and decluttering and moving. It wasn’t long before you were carrying a box of your clothes up the stairs of Ben’s house, your house now. He followed with another, dumping it in the middle of his living room and telling Felicity to put hers down with it as he ran out to help one of his mates with a bookshelf. The requisite pizza was bought for lunch and beer provided as thanks for everyone’s help before they left, leaving you and Ben with a living room full of boxes and no inclination to go through them. Instead you weaved your way through the blockades, flopping, exhausted, onto the couch. You stretched out, Ben laughing as he lay on you, his head on your chest. “Just a little break,” he said with a yawn and before you knew it you’d both dozed off, warn out from the days exertions.

You woke to Ben digging through the box closest to your head. “Which one of these has all your kitchenware?” he asked when he saw you watching him. “Should say kitchen on the top in blue sharpie, why?” He stood up and walked to another stack, shifting a box off the top of the pile, muttering the word kitchen to himself over and over. You let him search, taking a moment to stretch out the stiffness from napping on the couch. “Did you see those magazines Felicity left?” he asked as he moved another box out of the way. “No, where are they?” “Kitchen bench. You’ll laugh.” You ducked into the kitchen and opened the first one, a copy of Woman’s Weekly, flicking through the pages until you were met with an image of you and Ben walking down the street together. He was looking at his phone and you were talking, head turned toward him. A red circle drew attention to your hand and underneath it was a slightly blurry close up of the same section. Scanning the paragraphs beside the photos the word engaged jumped out at you making you snort. “Knew you’d find it funny,” Ben said, peeking over your shoulder. “It’s not even a proper ring, just some cheap costume jewellery. And it’s on the wrong finger. Bloody hell they’re desperate.” “Look at the other one,” Ben stuck the kettle on to boil, glancing over to watch you as he opened his cupboard of mugs. You pulled the issue of Heat out and riffled through its pages too. “Oh my god,” Ben laughed, “I know right! Pregnant, really?” “I’m never wearing that dress again. In fact I’m going to go find whichever box it’s in and throw it in the donations bag right now,” Ben caught you around the waist before you could take a step, “Don’t do that cuddle bunny,” he pouted, “I love you in that dress. One of my favourites.” “Because it’s easy to take off?” “Because you look cute in it. Being easy to take off is just a bonus,” he pulled you in close and kissed you as you laughed, “speaking of, with you moving in we’ll have to give you a proper welcome. I’m thinking start up against the front door, work out way through every room,” he pinched your bum suddenly, just to emphasise what he meant. “Cool your jets horndog, gotta move boxes out of the way before we can even get to the front door. And I think I need a coffee before I even think about sorting boxes.” “It’s a good thing I was about to make us coffee then. I found your kitchenware by the way.” You looked for the first time at the counter where Ben had set out the makings of coffee. There, amongst the canister of sugar and bottle of milk sat two mugs. The two mugs you’d decorated for each other, side by side.

#my writing #my fics #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy smut #ben hardy imagine #i love writing 2 fucking idiot doofuses #i think they earned this fluff

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mirkwoodshewolf · 4 years ago

Text

The tale of Robin and Gale Hood; Ben Hardy x reader Chap. 1

*Author’s note*

Okay so firs the gif has NOTHING to do with the story, that was just the 1st gif I saw out of the borhap gifs that was displayed. So this came after the success of my Disney Aladdin AU fic so I decided to do a Robin Hood fic, so as a little cast list for you all here’s what I’ve got. I’ll also update the cast list as each new character is introduced so that none of you get lost. Hope you all enjoy this little AU fic starring our beloved Borhap cast.

Also on a side note, any italics written like this signifies a change in narration where the character of Alan O’Dale speaks his own narration verses what I’ll be writing.

Robin Hood: Rami Malek

Little John: Joe Mazzello

Prince John: Paul Prenter

Sir Heston: voiced by Allen Leech

King Richard (mentioned): Roger Taylor.

Alan O’Dale: Freddie Mercury (think 1975 version of Freddie)

Chapter 1,

Robin Hood and Little John

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@simonedk

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queendeakyy

@queensdivas

@queen-paladin

@wormzteef

@geek-and-proud

_____________________________________________________________

The legend of Robin Hood. Ahhh yes, that handsome rouge who robbed the rich to feed the poor, who led a band of Merry men and made their home in Sherwood Forest. But there is more to the tale than meets the eye, and more people were involved in his rise to fame and glory. Like me.

Oi I’m over here, the handsome black-haired devil with the harp. Yes hello there my darlings. The name’s Alan O’Dale, and I am a minstrel. That’s an early day folk singer, I go about parading songs from town to town, kingdom to kingdom about brave knights, fierce battles, and of course my favorite stories, love stories.

And do I have two of the best love stories to share with you lovely darlings. Thankfully it all takes place at the same time so I don’t need to run my mouth on for very long. Anyways let’s first open our tale up to two dashing young men walking through the forest.

Two of the best friends anyone could ever ask for. These two young men were known other than Robin Hood and Little John. Now it didn’t start it off that way at first, those two chuckleheads always kept crossing each other’s paths as children and constantly argued and fought over territory, women, you name it.

But when they reached their late teens, Robin was one day captured by the despicable, ugly, and revolting Sheriff of Nottingham. Fortunately with the help of an additional 3rd party, Robin was saved from the hangman’s noose and from then on, Robin and Little John were the best of friends. You don’t believe me, let me sing you a little something.

Tuning the harp, Freddie then begins to play an uplifting little tune as he begins to sing.

Robin Hood and Little John walkin' through the forest Laughin' back and forth at what the other'ne has to say Reminiscin', This-'n'-thattin' havin' such a good time Oo-de-lally, oo-de-lally, golly, what a day

Never ever thinkin' there was danger in the water They were drinkin', they just guzzled it down Never dreamin' that a schemin' sheriff and his posse Was a-watchin' them an' gatherin' around

Robin Hood and Little John runnin' through the forest Jumpin' fences, dodgin' trees an' tryin' to get away Contemplatin' nothin' but escape an' fin'lly makin' it Oo-de-lally, oo-de-lally, golly, what a day Oo-de-lally, oo-de-lally, golly, what a day

Deep in the forest on top of a tree there hid two young men in their mid to late-20’s. One was a pale white man with long shoulder length auburn brown hair. His eyes were a mixed brownish-green and he was a handsome young man.

The man beside him was around the same age, if not slightly older and had skin that almost seemed to be kissed by the sun. His eyes were an intense blue color that could almost hypnotize you and at the same time make you feel relaxed. His short jet black hair topped off his head.

Together the two of them wore a similar green and brown clothes. Similar to a ranger’s outfit. Fit to camouflage them within the forest terrain, but also enough layers to keep them warm from the elements be it rain, sleet, snow and hail.

The two young men watched as the Sheriff of Nottingham and his men gave up on the search after losing them and retreating back to the city. Once they fled the forest, the two men threw themselves back against the top of the tree branches and laughed their heads off.

“Ohh we sure showed those clowns who the real woodsmen are!” boasted Little John.

“Indeed we have Little John.” It was then Little John saw on top of his friend’s and boss’ famed yellow hat an arrow sticking right through it.

“I wouldn’t be too quick to boast my friend. Take a look at your hat. She’ll not be pleased to see that.” Robin picked his hat up and his eyes widened in surprise and he said as he took the arrow out and fiddled with the newly made hole in his hat.

“Hello. This one had my name on it didn’t it? They’re getting better you know.” He placed his hat back on top of his head. “You’ve got to admit it, they are getting better.”

“Yeah. And when that day comes the Sheriff will have a rope hanging around our necks.” Little John said gravely. He then mimed out a hanging as he proceeded to make a brief choking sound. “It’ll be hard to laugh hanging there Robin.”

“Ha! The Sheriff and his whole posse couldn’t lift you off the ground. En Garde!” he then flicked the arrow right at Little John which went through his own smaller green hat.

“Oi watch it you bastard that’s the only hat she made for me!” Little John exclaimed as he took his hat off the arrow.

“Oh come along my friend. If she can patch mine up a hundred times, she’ll patch yours up as well. At least she won’t kill you for it.” Robin said nonchalantly as he leaned up against the trunk of the tree.

“You know something Robin I’ve been thinking.”

“Thinking that’s a first.” Robin teased. Little John glared at his friend before saying.

“I’m serious here. Are we good guys or bad guys? I mean our famed mantra of robbing the rich to feed the poor.”

“‘Rob?’” Robin tsked. “That’s a naughty word we never rob. We just—sorta borrow a bit from those you can afford it.”

“Borrow?” Little John chuckled. “Then we truly are in deep debt.” Before Robin could say another word, from the distance the sound of trumpets rang out.

He climbed a few feet higher up the tree till he reached the very top of it. He could hear the whole ensemble of a band playing in the distance and he chuckled softly.

“Sounds like another collection day for the poor eh Johnny me boy?”

“Yeah. Sweet charity. So, what’s the plan this time my friend?” Robin slid down the trunk to meet back with Little John and together he laid out the plan.

Just a few miles along a dirt road, the royal ensemble was walking through the forest. The royal band played an up-tempo beat, walking behind them was the royal guard all dressed in their armor and holding their spears.

Some of the guards even carried a very large treasure chest which held the taxes throughout all of England. Then shortly behind the guards was the royal coach of pure gold, and inside it was the vile, selfish, arrogant, man-child that was Prince John, the younger half-brother of the great King Richard.

An Irish bastard’s son. Who claimed right to the throne of England after his mother who was Queen. He was inside his coach happily running his hands through all the gold he had collected from the people as he boastfully cheered.

“Taxes! Taxes! Beautiful, lovely taxes!”

“Sire. You have an absolutely skill for encouraging contributions from the poor.” His talking albino python that he had named Sir Heston. He had Heston ever since he found him as a egg abandoned in the woods. With the help of some magic from the faes, Prince John gave his pet human intelligence and the ability to speak. And once he gained the throne, he allowed his snake to be his right hand man.

“The coin a phrase, my dear advisor. Rob the poor to feed the rich. Am I right?” The two of them laughed. “Now tell me, what is the next stop Sir Heston?” Prince John asked as he held the crown of England in his hands. Heston slithered over to the map and he hummed with interest.

“Why, the next stop is Nottingham sire.”

“Oh! The richest plum of them all. Nottingham.” Heston held a large mirror in his coils and held it up as Prince John placed the crown on top of his head and admired himself in the mirror. The crown slid off down his face as Sir Heston spoke out.

“A perfect fit sire. Most becoming. You look regal, dignified, sincere, masterful, noble. Chival……”

“Now, now don’t. Don’t overdo it Heston.” Prince John scolded as he adjusted the crown to make it fit upon his head. “There. That does it. This crown gives me a feeling of power! Power!”

“And how well King Richard’s crown sits on your noble brow.”

“Yes indeed I—ah King Richard?!” Prince John first started off before snarling by the end. Heston gulped and was soon choked by his master as he proclaimed again “I told you to never mention my bastard of a brother’s name!”

“A mere slip of the forked tongue your majesty.” Heston apologized. “But remember we were in this plot together. After all it was your idea that I hypnotize him…..”

“Yes. And send him off on that ridiculous crusade. Ah-ha! Ah-ha!” Prince John laughed along.

“Much to the sorrow of the Queen Mother.”

“Yes! Mother.” Prince John sobbed. “Mother always did like Richard best.” He muttered angrily before proceeding to suck his thumb.

“Your highness, please don’t do that. If you don’t mind me saying so, it’s undignified for a King to suck his thumb.” Heston said to him. He then slithered up to Prince John and his eyes began to shimmer and glow as he said in a low hiss, “Hypnotism can rid of your psychosis….so…..easily…..” Prince John began to slowly relax but he quickly snapped out of it.

“None of that! None of that!” he shouted at his snake advisor.

“Well I was only trying to help.” Heston said annoyed.

“Help. Help indeed. Now, now one more stunt like that Heston, and you will be walking to Nottingham.”

“Snakes don’t walk they slither. So there.” Heston muttered angrily as he slithered back onto his tree-like pole and lay there pouting.

Racing through the woods putting on their disguises was Little John in the lead. He wore a long blood red gypsy dress that revealed his shoulders. Once he got into the dress, he took out a few rings and placed them on his finger as well some anklets, earrings, and he quickly tied a purple sash around his waist to finish off the look.

While behind him, Robin wore a long blue dress that was fit for an elderly woman and had a long black wig on. He placed a couple of earrings on his ears and had a bandana tied to his head.

As the two of them stopped behind a tree, they saw the royal band coming in as well as the guards and the coach which held Prince John inside.

“Well this is a letdown. It’s only a circus. A peanut operation.”

“Peanuts? Why you dunce that’s the royal coach. It’s Prince John himself.” Robin snapped as his friend.

“Prince John. Alright you and her might be crazy enough to actually rob royalty but I am not having it. I’m gone!”

“What? And miss this chance to perform before royalty?” Robin said as he stepped in front of Little John. Quickly placing his hands over Little John’s fake breasts before backing off and doing a grand twirl of his blue dress. Little John rolled his eyes as he sighed.

“Here he goes again.” They waited till the coach got closer before stepping out and waved their arms in the air trying to get the attention of the Prince.

“Oo-de-lally! Oo-de-lally! Fortune tellers!” Robin proclaimed masking his voice to sound like an elderly woman’s voice.

“Fortunes, forecasts, lucky charms!” Little John proclaimed making his voice go an octave higher to sound like a woman’s.

“Get the dose with your horoscope!” Robin called out again. Prince John pulled back the curtains hearing the proclamations of the two ‘women’.

“Fortune tellers, how exciting! Stop the coach.” He ordered the guards as the entire royal party stopped their marching.

“Sire, sire. They maybe bandits.” Sir Heston whispered to his master.

“Oh poppycock. Female bandits, what’s next? Rubbish.” Prince John scoffed. He turned back to the two ladies who bowed before him and he said. “My dear ladies, you have my permission to kiss the royal hands. Whichever you like.” Both Robin and Little John stared wide-eyed once they saw the size of the jeweled rings that rested along the prince’s fingers.

“Hmm. Oh how gracious. And generous of you your majesty.” Robin said as he lowered his head to kiss the Prince’s left hand while sneaking off a ring from his tall finger. Sir Heston who had seen the ring being taken whispered in Prince John’s ear.

“Sire! Did you see what…..”

“Stop! Stop hissing in my ear!” Prince John scolded as he rubbed his left ear. Little John kissed right over the four rings on the prince’s right hand, secretly taking the jewels right off their encasement. Heston began stammering in the Prince’s other ear which made the Prince proclaim and rub his other ear like he did his last one.

“Heston! You’ve hissed your last!” he took his python by the neck and slammed him into a basket before closing it and sitting on top of it. “Suspicious snake.” He hissed lowly.

“Masterfully done. Ehh your excellency. Now the fun can truly begin.” Robin tempted the Prince as he climbed into the coach with Prince John and closed the curtains. He turned the lanterns down low and said to him, “Now close your eyes and concentrate.”

Prince John closed his eyes as Robin continued to tell him to close them tighter and not to peek. He looked around the room until he found the pile of gold, he did a soft chuckle before chanting out.

“From the mists of time, I call forth ye spirits.” Outside the coach, Little John had a glass bowl tied to a string that was attached to a pole.

“Alright you little fireflies. Glow, glow.”

“We’re waiting!” Robin sung out. That’s when Little John sent the bowl inside and he could hear Robin gasp. “Look sire! Look!”

When the prince opened his eyes, he saw three floating spirits within a crystal ball. He was in pure awe as he said.

“Incredible. Floating spirits.” He went to touch the ball until he was slapped by Robin. He chuckled a soft witchy cackle as he said.

“Naughty, naughty. You mustn’t touch young man.”

“Well how dare you strike the royal hand I—”

“Shh, shh, shh. You’ll break the spell just gaze into the crystal ball.” Robin took the ball with the fireflies and set it down on the table between him and the prince. Robin then began chanting in an ancient Arabic tongue before letting out a gasp. “A face appears.”

The Prince immediately looks closer at the crystal ball intrigued.

“A crown sits on his noble brow.”

“A crown! Oo-de-lally how exciting!”

“His face is handsome, regal, majestic, loveable, a cuddly face.” From outside Little John heard all the comments Robin was laying on the Prince and could help but mime out a gag and roll his eyes. Especially when the Prince began agreeing with everything that was said about him.

Robin then went for the treasure while the Prince was in his own head. But as soon as he reached out his hand for the bag of gold, Heston who had found a weak spot on the basket poked his head out and actually struck out at Robin’s hand.

Biting his lip as he quickly retreated his hand to see it bleeding from the snake’s bite. He let out a pained groaned which got the attention of the prince.

“Now what?” he asked impatiently. Robin swallowed his pain and chuckled softly.

“I—I see your….illustrious name.”

“I know my name! Get on with it!” the Prince cried impatiently.

“Your name will go down, down, down in history of course!” Robin said as he struggled to take the bag of gold from Heston, who had it wrapped around his tail, but with a finally good tug, Robin managed to get the gold and send it towards Little John through the back curtains of the coach.

“Ahh! I knew it! I knew it! You hear that Heston!? Oh no you can’t he’s in the basket.” He then banged the side of the basket and said to his snake, “And-and-and don’t you forget it.”

Meanwhile outside, Little John slowly circled around the coach when he took notice of the solid gold hubcaps on the wheels of the coach.

“Hmm now that’s what I call pure gold hubcaps.” He looked around and stood in front of the back one and unscrewed it from the wheel and shoved it up the back of his dress. He then moved over to the front on and did the same thing. “Oo-de-lally the jackpot.” He muttered softly as he eyed the royal treasure.

However it was completely surrounded and carried by guards. Little John pondered for a bit but remembered a trick that he learned from a friend of his.

The one sure fire way to get a man’s attention away from their post.

He whistled out to the guards and when they turned and saw him, their mouths immediately dropped and their eyes widened. He slowly and seductively untied the purple sash from his waist and began to do a seductive dance.

Shimming his shoulders and swaying his hips back and forth. Little John was light on his feet as he leaped and hopped about like a graceful deer. He then skipped on over to the first guard who was just in awe.

Little John wrapped the purple sash around the guard’s neck pulling him in a little closer. Close enough to kiss him. But to tease him, he shoved the guard’s helmet over his face before retreating back and flaunted the guard, who was still hypnotized by Little John’s performance.

He twirled around before suddenly dropping down into a full split. The guards now began to hoot and holler as they applauded, dropping the treasure. Little John then went up to another guard and took his spear out of his hands and jammed it into the ground.

With the grace of a deer, Little John then began to spin and slid down the spear’s long pole before ending with a pose with his right leg high in the air and he winked at the guards who were now applauding and whistling.

“Ohh stop it. Stop it you boys are too much.” Little John spoke his woman voice.

“That was the best show we have ever seen.” Said one of the guards.

“Well gentleman. It was my pleasure to dance for you. But of course every bit of contribution helps. For you see I—oh I just can’t say it.”

“What is it?” asked another guard.

“No it’s—it’s too painful to speak about.” The guards feeling sympathetic for this beautiful woman all started speaking up and telling ‘her’ that they wanted to hear her story. “Well…..I wasn’t always like this. My husband was beating me, cheating me, then left me all alone with no money. That’s when I—I forced myself to flee even without a cent to my name. That’s when I found Ms. Olga, the elderly gypsy woman I came with. But even then we—we hardly get by with enough food for you see…..I found myself pregnant at the time I left.”

These men were falling for the story hook, line and sinker. It was then one of the guards took the treasure chest and slid it over to Little John.

“Please, take it all.” Little John gave the young guard a surprised look and he said.

“Oh no I couldn’t possibly take all this.”

“Please. My—my mum had to raise me on her own when my father left her. For you and your baby.”

“Ohh you sweet thing.” He stroked the side of the guard’s cheek and Little John dragged the royal chest away from the guards.

As he came around the corner of the carriage, he felt someone bump into him which knocked him over the chest. He turned around and saw Robin wearing Prince John’s royal cape and surrounded by a bunch of gold pieces that had fallen out of a bag that lay on the ground.

“Nice robes your majesty.” Little John teased, his normal accent finally coming out.

“And what of you, you vulgar young hussy. I heard all the wolf whistles and cheering. I could hardly keep the Prince under my hypnosis to swipe his clothes and gold.”

“Never mind that. Just gather the gold and then help me with this.” Robin and Little John then worked together to put as much gold pieces back in the bag as possible. Robin stuffed the bag into his dress then both he and Little John picked up the chess and quickly raced off.

Prince John who had woken up from his dazed state, saw the two gypsy women running away from the scene, the elderly woman wearing his robes. He looked down and saw that he was in his undergarments.

“ROBBED! I’VE BEEN ROBBED! HESTON! YOU’RE NEVER AROUND WHEN I NEED YOU!!” Heston slithered out of the basket and raised half his body length up and looked the prince up and down. “I’ve been robbed.” He choked out as he covered himself up.

“Of course you’ve been robbed!” Heston hissed. Far in the forest, Robin was gleefully chanting as he and Little John made their escape with the royal treasure.

“AFTER THEM YOU FOOLS!” Prince John proclaimed. The guards now realizing they had been tricked, immediately took off running. The carriage soon began to chase after Robin and Little John, unfortunately due to the missing hubcaps, the wheels began to pop off which made Prince John hop out of his carriage and fall straight into the mud.

Leaving him stranded in the middle of the forest trail alone with Heston. He sobbed as he pounding the ground whining like a child.

“I knew it. I knew this would happen. I tried to tell you but no, no you wouldn’t listen. You just have to—” when Heston realized that he had angered the Prince, he began stammering as he tried to warn the prince as he now held a very large mirror, “Seven years bad…..” he then had the mirror smashed onto his head. “Luck. That’s what that is. Besides, you just broke your mother’s mirror.”

“Ahhh! Mummy!” Prince John whined as he began to suck his thumb once again. He took it out of his mouth as he said solemnly, “I’ve got a dirty thumb.”

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 4 years ago

Text

It’s The Avengers (03x08)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Season 3 Episode 08: We Are Going Knowhere

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

Warnings: oooof!!!

Word Count:I sound so bad for actually turning happy that there was a positive patient in our block because that would increase the chances of my neighbourhood undergo a strict lockdown and then I wouldn’t have to go to work. My fam doesn’t understand this but I need some time with myself to recharge for good and so they look at me like I am posessed.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

The lens focused from its blurriness over to the kitchenette where Bucky stood making himself some coffee.

Scott: Are we rolling? *nods* Cool. *clears throat* So turns out that there is another unspoken romance waiting to bloom in our midst and as a hopeless romantic with an engineering degree I am utterly disappointed in myself for not figuring it out sooner. *looks at some invisible void in the distance* Well, I would have if I wasn't so obsessed with my other couple goal. I would have. *smiles at the void* *speaks softly* those two almost gave me a heart attack last night!

A sweat-drenched Steve walked in after a run around the facility. "Hey," he greeted Bucky before turning towards the dorms. "Hey," Bucky greeted back while pouring his coffee and looking at America's ass strut down the lounge in those grey track pants that were just the right amount of tight across those butt cheeks jiggling down the hall while the camera caught that steaming hot coffee colour the -otherwise spotless- white island brown as Bucky's eyes and heart skipped with that booty while his hands holding the coffee pot forgot what they were supposed to do. Scott entered the lounge to find that coffee dripping down everywhere while Bucky was lost. "Watch out, Buck," he called out, breaking the Captain's trance on this Seargent, "your gay is showing."

Scott: *contemplates* huh...I should get that on a t-shirt.

"I don't get it. He's your best friend. Why don't you just ask him out?" Scott bit into an apple and looked at Bucky mopping up the result of his gaze and one sexy booty. "I can't ask him out because he is my best friend, Scott," Bucky sighed. "It was kinda easy to do this charade back in our day. Now, everyone is out of the closet like-" "Like your everyday lounging shorts," Scott added, getting a nod agreement from Bucky. "And I'm not even sure if he looks at me the same way." Scott had to look at the camera after on real slow blink in Bucky's direction.

Scott: *inhales while keeping his palms together in front of his face* Boy, do I have news for you! *opens his hands and tries to stop the excitement from making him scream* That dude literally fought Nazis for you! TWICE! And then brought you back to f****ng life! *tries not to cry* *whispers* Dude! Why are my OTPs so f****ng dumb!

On Our Trip to Knowhere The camera showed Lulu trying to swim in the sea of berries in a crate while popping one in his mouth whenever Loki wasn't looking. "If the merchant asks for mixed berries I'm going to sell you off to him," Loki announced from the cockpit. Well, at least Lulu thought he wasn't looking. The distraught and drooping fluff looked at you for any sign that this wasn't true. "No, he won't," you mouthed and shook your head before turning back to co-pilot - well, whatever was remaining of- the spaceship Loki had bargained from the last station. Putting the coordinates in for his stop, he turned around and brought his hands together and did one loud clap. "Alright. Everyone listen up. There are some things you need to take care of when-" You moaned incredibly loud, dramatically your head in every possible direction. "Uuuggghhhahaaaarrgggghh!!" "What." "We have heard this befoooore!" "And you will hear it again! Because Knowhere is dangerous. It has all kinds of filth gathered here hiding in the dark wh-" You wanted to groan one more time but something in the vast emptiness before you caught your eyes and took your breath away. "What...is that?!" your voice barely got out while a smirk landed on Loki's lips with a shine in his eyes. The camera quickly came forward to record what seemed like a gigantic skull being the bed of inhabitants floating in the dark of the space. From where its eyes were supposed to be, was a cavern lit with life inside while sizeable pods came and left from the jaw and ears. "That, my dear, is Knowhere," Loki declared softly, quite mesmerised for a moment by this look of awe in your eyes, "land of the lawless created when the Dark God Knull used his All Black sword to decapitate a Celestial. Seeing as the rotting skull was worth quite something to someone in some part of the universe, a notorious group by the name Tivan decided to make this their base. And as opposed to their demeanour, they are quite a dangerous group of underworld criminals, mind you." Loki had to turn his head and look at you when he did not get anything in response and found you sit there a shade lighter, looking right at the skull where you were headed. "Surely we'll be safe if we avoid that group, right?" You looked at him for a seed of hope to get out of this alive. "Right, Loki?"

Loki: *presses his lips together* *snickers* *lets the chortle slip his mouth* *guffaws for the next minute with tears streaming down his eyes while holding onto his stomach* One minute later Loki: *clears his throat* *wipes the tears from his eyes* Ah! I love humans!

"Oh, sweetheart," Loki practically sang a soft note in your direction with a gentle head tilt, "we are going to meet their leader."

The Lounge Team "Hey, would...you...like...ss-coffee?" The camera shifted from a disconcerted Bucky barely standing by the kitchenette on his wobbly legs to an encouraging- though a little disappointed- Scott standing there while Wanda sat on one of the barstools by the wall and witnessed the whole practice unfold. "Bucky, sweety," Scott pressed ever so sweetly, placing his hand on the island in his direction, "Steve would always like a coffee for his rat-like heart. We have to get him to have that coffee with you! Make him know that you want to have that coffee alone with him. Want to hold hands with him. Want to let him know how much you care for him. Want t-" "Want to let him know how much you want to bang him," Wanda commented, taking Scott by surprise. "How long have you been sitting there?" The Ant-Man asked with a hand on his chest. "Long enough," she shrugged while popping roasted almonds in her mouth. "Bucky, all you need to do is declare you like him. Rest will be easy peasy, lemons in vodka squeezy."

Natasha: *tsks*Совсем беда с парнями. Без нас ни один из них даже не узнал бы, что второй жив. Wanda: *giggles* Ты бы видела, как Баки сегодня себя вёл в общей комнате, весь такой смущённый. Даже в глаза Стиву не мог ��зглянуть, не краснея. В конце концов он просто взял, молча подод��инул Стиву кружку кофе и ушёл — а у самого из ушей так пар и валит. Natasha: *rolls her eyes* Мои зверята и то сообразительней, чем эти двое. Wanda: *gasps* У тебя есть питомцы?! Natasha: *no change in emotion* Как-нибудь познакомлю. Так вот, возвращаясь к теме парней: ты замечала, что как только Баки заходит в комнату, Стив прямо весь тает? Wanda: *wide eyes* Замечала, и не только! Он только взглянет на Баки, как у него в голове начинает играть музыка из фильма "История любви", а перед глазами волосы Баки развеваются, как в рекламе шампуня. *blushes* *clears throat* Да, и еще он почему-то переставляет себе, что на Баки из одежды только красные стринги. Natasha: *a big, toothy laugh* АХАХАХАХА!

Knowhere There were smoke and liquor everywhere the cameras swerved. There were creatures young and old, weak and bold, gathered to gamble, fight, rave, smuggle, hide. Anything unordinary you could think was there. From genderless strippers to non-binary fighters- the far corner filled with one hollered at the other, whistling, catcalling, making signs that you did not want to know the meaning of. Loki, on the other hand, was enjoying all fifty expressions your face reflected at the scenic view of the inside of Knowhere. Lulu, though mesmerised by the lights everywhere and blown away by the flying pods, still hung to your shoulder. If he had eyes, you were sure they would be wide open with their focus just on those flying machines as he made crackling noises at them. Javi caught you flinch and jump away from a creature looking like a six-year old's version of Satan but in green. Satan growled at you before pretending to bite you and lick those yellow fangs of his while he chortled with his equally appalling buddies. "Kin sibe nom torra," Satan rolled his R's while gurgling through his throat at you- someone who had no idea what that guy was talking about while trying to fiddle through your bag to find those earpieces the Hardy boys had provided you. "Ugh, is this what Clint has to go through?" That Satan dude stepped closer to you, driving you two steps back. All the onlookers could feel the sudden rush as they watched you stand one step away from backing into a murky wall while Satan smirked his dirty smirk at you, taking one potential step before Loki stepped in to put a hand on his chest. "Ukt sast nom kore grata," the God practically sang before parting his fingers with that chest while his face screamed 'yucky'. Just as he uttered those words, that smug grin on Satan's face got washed away to show confusion and fear eroding in those beady eyes. "Sica rom ni froa," Loki gestured him to walk away with a kind smile before turning to look at you with your jaw unhinged just a little. "Wha-how...what was that?" "Oh, they were catcalling you in the most vulgar way possible," Loki replied, looking at the address in his navigation device. "....okay? And?" "And-" he clicked the device close and pointed at a distant pathway- ever so casually with the other hand in his pocket- "I told them to only ask you to go with them if they liked getting their heads eaten when you orgasm." And the Silvertongue walked away, leaving that jaw to unhinge a bit more.

You: *grunts* now I wish I could do that *crosses arms in disappointment* *camera pans out to show Loki standing by your side, looking at you like a lost cause* Loki: This is why you do not have a lover You: *huff* *repeat his lines to him louder* this is why you do not have a lover!

The Collector's Den There were no guards on doors, something you thought would be a default scene considering you were walking into the Space Illuminati Warlord's lair. The neon colours breathing around you from creatures and elements unknown were too much for the eyes to deal with in one go. But it all seemed to be toned down to normal when your entire body felt itself jerk to prevent a heart attack at the sight of the four feet high and three feet wide head preserved in a tank right next to the entrance. "That's...one way to greet people," you muttered, your eyes still on that creature while your legs followed Loki further into the appropriately-named Collector's business place. "Marvelous!" A voice boomed in the house of Tivan and you had to pull yourself back to the front, stepping closer to Loki to witness a creature anatomically very similar to a human walk towards your group with a pep in his step. "Finally someone who knows the worth of the head of a dark celestial." The white hair on his head stood as straight as a distraught anime character along with his brows. His lips were what caught your attention with an apparent thin tattoed line running down the middle, ending right before the chin. If that wasn't enough to make anyone wonder what in hell was this creature, the sudden whip of his cape was the last straw to help you innocent ones realise this one was the mad kind. "Tell me, oh beautiful one-" he bowed in front of you his hands going back in the air like a ballerina- "what do you think of that head?" You looked at Loki for some help. He simply shrugged and put his pale fingers on his lips, leaving the floor to you. "...that it's...big?" "It's hideous," the Collector grumbled. "A beauty like you should not have to see something so indigestible. EVER!" He whipped his cape again, making you shoot your brows up and turn towards the camera.

You: Ooooohohoho *giggle* my God! This guy is more dramatic than any theatre majors I have EVER seen! *gasps* Oh- Loki: No! We are not taking him to earth to meet theatre nerds. You: You: *slump back* *grumble*

"Welcome to the humble abode of this mere creature that goes by the name Taneleer Tivan. Address me as you wish your grace. Your husband has been our esteemed partner for quite the time in this space." There was nothing but a slow blink that escaped you at the thought of the mafia lord thinking you were Loki's wife. Then, a finger rose in question at the audacity of that white-haired baboon reaching to that conclusion just by seeing you two together. "Okay, excuuuuse me," you started off with bubbling rage, "first of all, you have amazing eyesight for noticing I'm beautiful. And second of all, your partner wishes!"

Taneleer: *narrows eyes at the camera, oblivious* I am confusion

Loki simply rolled his eyes before touching a windchime next to him. "I see you still have your spies on a decent payroll, Tivan. Was it the Kou-Gare that boarded with us on the shuttle from the last station? Or was it the Djinn you had your clan's symbol etched on his back?" Taneleer blinked quite fast before breaking into a chortle, his head thrown back and his hands flailing. "You are still the same shrewd Silvertongue! I told them you would find out sooner or later." The camera focused on your expression- a swirl of shock and thrill. "But I do have to ask," he sang before turning to you, circling you like a cat, "where did you find this one? And what was so special about her that she got to stand by the side of the God of Mischief." He practically purred inside your hair while taking a sniff as you stood there frozen, looking at Loki for some sort of escape. "She is a human, Tivan," Loki called out, still looking at the windchime that refracted light into a colourful rainbow all over Loki's skin. And like a good chameleon, Taneleer's colours changed while Loki looked smug for the camera, his back still turned to you and the Collector. "By your Gods and mine! If she is a human how is she more alluring than you?!"

You: *smug* If I had a mic? I'd drop it. *still acts out a mic drop*

The colours on Loki's face washed away as fast as they had come. His lips forming as many different-sized Os as they possibly could. "What? WHAT?!" Taneleer simply nodded, observing you like an art connoisseur from a respectable distance. "Say, my ever-enchanting one-" with a leg bent out, he bowed to take your hand in his- "would you bestow upon this meagre merchant the honour to honour you by studying your essence?" "Okay, that's it," Loki muttered before covering the distance in two strides and breaking away that unwanted hand-holding; smacking away Taneleer's hand while taking yours and holding it in his. "You," he pointed his finger at the collector while the camera focused on his hand holding your wrist, "you are going to help me-" Taneleer parted his lips to say something before being shut by Loki's words- "BECAUSE you owe me for saving your life!" And then the God turned to you, the distance between the two of you lesser than Lulu lying on the ground. He was in fact lying on the ground, trying to make angels in something clearly invisible to the human eyes. "And you," Loki announced softer than he wanted to, his eyes locked onto yours. For the moment there, that was all it was. His greens shining like a freshly washed forest from rain shining under the new sun. And your eyes were the treasure quarry of y/e/c stones buried under the water looking up at that forest hiding both the light and darkness inside it. Seconds passed. Both Taneleer and the camera looked at each other for answers before the former slowly dragged his wine glass from the table to the edge, letting it fall and clunk on the floor, loud enough to break the God out of a trance. "You will stay here with Lulu. Do not cause trouble till I get back." Authority in his voice, he inhaled a lungful before furrowing his brows- trying to understand what had just happened- and turning to walk away. "Who's Lulu?" Taneleer was curious. You seemed to pop right out of your own trance by the question, beaming at the collector before picking up Lulu in your arms to let him purr in your embrace. "My baby." Taneleer took the appearance of little hairy creature in. "So much hair...or fur?" before turning to Loki, waiting for a second and then following him. "I told you not to take those drugs during your sexual endeavours for information extraction, Silvertongue."

The Lounge The flatscreen was muted, showing you sleeping in the back of the spaceship Loki just bargained for cheap. Your lips were parted and you were drooling all over the blanket underneath you while Loki set the ship on autopilot to come to take a look in the back. Javi was asleep too, with Lulu in his arms, both of them sprawled on the seats bunched up together by the last owner. What Loki did not realise- or did not bother to validate- was that the cameras were still running; those electronic bugs with space technology still buzzing around the temporary gravity. He stood next to the makeshift bed of crates bunched together for you to sleep over, snoring loud enough to make Lulu's head vibrate in the direction of the voice. The camera focused on the screen when the expression on Loki's face bore a look barely ever seen before- soft. He was on his knees, putting the blanket wrinkled in your arms over your shoulder, securing it on both sides before moving a stray strand of your hair away from your face. He said something, apparently to you, but the only thing the camera in the lounge caught was the moving lips before frantically shifting between the screen and Natasha, Wanda, Scott and flustered Bucky; neither of them catching the lens' drift to look at the screen. Natasha and Wanda watched from the sofa as Scott still tried to get Bucky to open up a little more. "I can't watch this anymore," Natasha grumbled to Wanda with an emotionless face towards the two men, "just tell me when he comes." "Oh, oh, oh, he's coming," Wanda whispered, poking Natasha before transforming her excitement back to a dull sober self.

Wanda: So, I can always tell where this man is in the house. He does this thing where he will pick up a theme from something he is into lately and his brain keeps playing it on repeat. Last night Natasha made him watch Phineas and Ferb and so *flails her hands* *smirks* it's going to be the title sequence all day. *turns her smile into a fine line of distaste* and thanks to her I no longer have to listen to Never Gonna Give You Up for another week.

"Hey, Bucky," Natasha called out the ex-winter soldier as loud as possible, "I'm proud that you came out of the closet buddy! You should be proud of being bi. We are here with you." She clicked her tongue and finger-gunned him. Confused but delighted at the gesture, Bucky shared a chuckle with an equally excited Scott. "Thanks, Nat. But I don't know how will be able to tell to-" he turned just enough to let his eyes catch Steve standing frozen by the lounge entrance-"...Steve."

Tivan's Den "This is crazy. And so cool?! I wish I had the means to collect all the weird things around the world." Lulu chirped at you while tapping at the glass that had a pink coloured female inside it while you- bright-eyed and enthralled by the extraordinary roamed about the place, looking at the gems and flora, bugs and skeletons around this place. One little piece of quartz caught your attention for it had waves inside it as if clear water was kissing the pale dull sand on a clear beach and making it come to life. Your hand went for that crystal when you felt your brain jerk you back. "Ooooh, we're not supposed to touch anything. I don't want to be stuck in a death game again," you muttered before pouting at the crystal and walking away. Away from that shelf to turn and find yourself facing a golden music box and shrieking as low as possible. Lulu raised himself where he stood before leaping towards the shelf you were fangirling about. "Lulu, look!" You whispered in heated excitement, your toes barely keeping you on the ground, "a music box with Loki's helmet on it! You think it belongs to him?"

Lulu cautiously moved closer to the box sniffing it like a curious cat, pausing for a bit before rubbing his head with the precious trinket. "Okay. So, you approve!" You clapped and picked the box up. "Aw! You think little Loki got this as a gift on one of his birthdays?" Winding the lever as far as it went, you refrained from squirming as you opened it. A sweet sound was followed by Lulu's camera catching a hairpin inside the box. The camera caught the expression of pure awe on your face that was looking at the intricate designs on that hairpin while also catching a cloud emerging behind you that was slowly morphing into a figure; something you were not aware of. Lulu, on the other hand, seemed to feel the presence as the camera jerked and a hiss came out of the little one in the direction of the figure that was out of focus but slowly walking towards your back. "It's beautiful!" You whispered. "Do you think it belongs to his...mom, Lulu?" Another hiss came out of Lulu and this time you turned your gaze up in confusion at him. "I sure hope it does," an echo of a voice called out from behind you, making you shriek, jump away from that direction, hit your head in the shelf in front of you so hard that you went limp and fell down with one loud thump.

Back Where the Boys Are The back room of the Collector's den was rather more sophisticatedly decorated than the marketed front; not to mention the equally more bizarre antiquities surrounding the room as the God and one human entered. "I need a tool to break me out of these," Loki declared while directed Taneleer's gaze towards his handcuffs. Taneleer raised his brows and tapped his fingers onto each other. "Looks like someone forgot the key during their playtime!" A snicker left Javi and Loki almost lost it. "Why does everyone keep thinking I would voluntarily shackle myself to these forsaken cuffs!" "How many people have pointed that out by now?" Taneleer asked while supporting his weight on the nearest shelf. Loki shoved off the question, paused, blinked and then huffed. "Five," he muttered. Javi tskd from where he stood, signing something with one hand. "That Terran says eleven," Taneleer pointed out, now judging the God with his narrowed eyes. "Do not jest me, Collector!" "Jest you! You, the God of riding SOLO with nothing but self-preservation in your blood, trodding in space all mighty with a beautiful Terran and you expect the fauna to not suggest something titillating going between the two of you?!" The eye-roll Loki felt, almost made the audience wonder if they would disappear in the back of his head. "There is nothing going on between me and her. She's just. A friend." The most dramatic gasp came out of the Collector, his hand going over to his trembling lips. "He used the f-word," the poor mafia lord whispered to himself. "What? I have had friends before," Loki shrugged through his shoulders, not making eye contact with his company before getting conscious of the camera. "Oh, name one friend besides me who hasn't exploited you for their own wishes!" "Can we please get back to busi-" "That's because you don't have any-" "Peter!" Loki blurted out of nowhere before realisation hit his face and made a split-second eye contact with the camera before composing himself. "His name is Peter and if anything happened to him, I would kill everyone and then myself. Remember that." The weight in his words seemed to shift the power in the room, impressing the Collector beyond what he asked for. "Yes, yes! Don't boil your blood over it," Taneleer sang rather sweetly, swinging his hips and humming something. "Well? Are you going to help me or not?!" Loki huffed. "Give me back whatever grace I left with you." Taneleer muttered something that was not audible to the God. "You did what?!" Taneleer groaned. "How do you have such sharp ears?" "YOU SOLD MY GRACE!!!" "Well, not sold so much as bartered for a nice sample of a fae's DNA. So, I'd say it was a good deal." The collector was in the middle of turning to face the God when he felt himself being shoved into the wall behind him by Loki. "You are-" Loki hissed- "going to get me-" and grabbed his throat- "out of these shackles-" and tightened his grip on the OverLord- "or this is the last thing you will see before you die." The Collector winced and croaked for air, begging through his eyes when Loki let go just enough for him to speak. Wheezing for as much air as possible, the Collector looked at the God with eyes of a mercy-seeking peasant. "Now, now, my sweet God! If you kill me...who will save your precious friend out there?"

to be continued...

118 notes · View notes

askforimagineoroneshot · 5 years ago

Text

Pick your team (Jeff Hardy x Reader)

wwelover0789nathalia: Hi, since I saw you do WWE imagines I have a request for you to do! I was hoping for you to do Jeff Hardy x Reader. When the reader is wrestler as well. She had some connections to the SHIELD boys but is friends with the Hardy boyz. She use to have a thing with Jeff but they went separate ways with nothing bad happening. She just needed time for her mental health. Now there is a tag team match - mixed - two women and three men. What no one knows is that they will choose they team when they get to ring. Like we have a SHIELD, Hardy boyz and maybe Sheamus and people coming in the match don't know who they are with and they get surprise that they have to choose for themselves. Maybe something like pick a shirt from Rene or something? Thank you very much!

Gifs are not mine! Imagine is!

MASTERLIST

Reader's point of view

After some time away from all of this I have to say I missed it. I missed all of the chaos from backstage and the people running around. I am so lucky to be able to return to my family. Even when it is doing to be hard and not just for me but also for people I call my family.

When I left this place I did it because of me. I had mental health issues that I needed to take care of. I left everything behind. My job, my friends, ma family. I even left town for almost a year. And it had helped me. I am much better now. With me leaving there are changes that comes with life. I left love of my life behind. I left Jeff. Even that he understood why and respected that, he even encourage me to do it. He knew I needed it. But I still feel like I broke his heart. I know he was hiding it, and he did that so well. I know him better. And with his heart mine broke too. A big piece of it stayed here.

Knowing that no one knows that I am back except for Hunter that helped me return here to Wrestlemania makes me so petrified. Hunter did a lot more for me as well. He came up with this idea that there will be a huge match - a mix tag team with five people in each team. I am not sure what it will be but nobody actually knows what he wants to do. I am told to be ready at the time in the arena. And that is what I am going to do.

I am nerves because I know my family will be in the ring with me. My Hardy boyz will be there without knowing I will be there. Will Jeff be angry with me. That I didn't tell him I am back and that I am going back to work. Did he move on from me. Should I be surprise about it? I think no. I am the one that left. He deserves someone who can be there for him just like he was there for me. Someone strong. Maybe it would be better that way. I want him to be happy.

I am just second guessing everything I did in my life and everything I am about to do now. That is just something I do when I am alone in the room for to long.

I am in a dressing room now. This room doesn't belong to anyone. The hole idea that Hunter presented to me is that I am one of the big surprises for the evening. I will be in a one of the teams. In which one I have no idea. I know that it will be my boyz and SHIELD and the Celtic warriors but that is all I know about this evening.

I am not sure how will people react to seeing me. The fans will they be happy. Do they even remember me? And what about the boys? How angry will Jeff be? I know nothing will happen in the ring since fans don't know we were in relationship but still. Also Seth and his team? Back in a day I use to have a connections with them. The storylines and everything. I was the one that thought them that family means that you don't turn your back to them no matter how many times they turn their back to you. I put the team of SHIELD boys back together after Seth did what he did.

Who will I be with? How will this go down?

“We are ready to go.” a woman came to the room. “The match will start in five minutes.”

“Thank you.” I guess I will know sooner than I thought.

I go through the halls behind her. It still looks the same. No matter how long you are gone this place has a spirit. That's why people love this place so much. And why so many people wants to work here.

As we walk I see some of the divas watching me. I know that they are talking about me being here again. I am not surprised. When we get to the gorila I see Stephanie watching TV screen.

“Hi.” I tell her so she knows I am here and ready.

“Hi sweetie. Just a moment and the show will start for you.” she looks at me with a smile on her face. “Hunter will just start the segment.”

I stand next to her after I nod to agrement. I want to know what is happening and how will Hunter work this out.

“You wanted a chance to win a tag team championship and so I will give it to you Sheamus!” I watch Hunter play his role that he had written for himself. “But I want something from it too. Since fans are a little tired from the same people crying at the same stone so I dicated to play a little game with you all.”

The boys around him looked surprised. Fan would say it is a role they play but I can see on them they really didn't know about any of this. It had happen before to be honest.

“You can fight for the tag team championship but in teams like this. It is time to give other people chance to.” he continued. “Only question is will they chose you as their team?” with that he drops the mic and walks up the ramp.

“What does that mean?” I aks without turning away from the TV but Steph knows I am asking her.

“Well,” she puts her hand on my arm and looks at Becky that was standing behind us. I didn't even knew she was there. “Let's go.” she tells her and I can hear her music play. My eyes turn back at the monitor. When Becky gets to the ring and picks the mic that Hunter left there.

“Since I am the only one that knows what is going on let me start.” she smiles and the crowd love her. “It's time for a mixed tag team five people per team match.” she chers and crowd loves it. They want to see this so bad.

“And since there is not that many people in this ring for this we will need more.” she looks at the gorila before she does anything else Steph gives me a sight to go as my music hit.

And so I go. Crowd goes crazy. I am so happy right now. Adrenaline is in my veins and I feel the moment. As I made my way to the ring I look at the guys and I can see pure shock. I can see Matt and how happy and pump he is about seeing me here. When I look at his brother, my Jeff, I can see how surprised he is. It is a good surprised but there is something on his mind and I can't really tell what. When I get to the ring I do my thing.

The music stops and I look at Becky. She is smiling still. I look at her to know what to do. I know nothing and by looks of it I am not alone.

“Now that you are back I thought that you should have a right to pick first. Pick the team that you are ready to fight for and suffer for.” she tells me with a smile.

I am in shock. And I can't take a minute to think about this. I know I am not going to pick warriors. Can I pick by who I really want to fight for or do I pick the one team that I had my last storyline.

I look at the table with the shirts. Nice and folted. When I look at Seth I can see a smirk wich he knows I hate. When I look at my boyz I see Matt's crazy jet cute smile and sparkle in the eyes of Jeff. I do what I want to and I pick Hardy boyz. Crowd goes crazy but it's like I in the box and can't hear them.

I get to Jeff's corner and change my shirt. I can feel Jeff's hand on my lover back. I lean in. Was he waiting for me or did he moved on? Do I have a right to be angry if he did? No. Will it broke my heart? Yes.

After the match

I walk with my team behind me. We won and crowd loved it. I am not hurt in a way of me not being unable to perform tomorrow but I am hurting. I did what I always do. I am not a afreight to get hurt. I am giving my everything. Some call it reclase.

“I will see you guys later.” Charlotte said as she walked to her dressing room.

“Yeah.” Matt said and before I could Jeff stopped me.

“Can I talk to you?” he asked me calmly.

“Yeah, but I don't have a dressing room so we have to go to yours.” I smile at him. God, how much I missed him. Now he is so close and yet it still feels so far.

When we get to his dressing room he closes door but doesn't lock it. I turn to look at him and I see him really happy, smiling at me.

“WOW.” he laugh. “You are back.” I have to look down to not disappoint him. “How are you feeling.”

“Yeah, I am.” I start with the laugh not so honest as his. “I am well, not perfect but I am good. How are you?”

“Now I am good to.” All I can see in his eyes is joy and love. It is hard for me to not kiss him right now.

“How were when I was gone?” I asked him scared of what he will tell me.

“You were not gone you were away. And for a good reason.” he get closer to me. “And I was fine. You know. Waiting for you to be ready to come back.”

“You didn't have to wait for me.” I felt guilty for what I made him go through.

“I would wait a lifetime for you.” he hugs me and I know I am safe and where I am meant to be. I hug him back like my life is depending on it.

#jeff hardy imagine #jeff hardy #jeff hardy x reader #wwe #wwe imagine #wwe x reader #wrestling

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