#accidentally posted this early but whatevs

[aroaceweirdos101]

❗SPOILERS FOR PART 3 OF THE SOLAR SYSTEM TRIALS❗

So with the new Solarballs episode's released, with Ganymede and Europa getting banished from the Solar System and another Planet X tease at the end(who has seemingly witnessed the whole trial), I have thought about two possibilities on how the next arc will go(that is if the two moons do meet the planet):

[hey-hey-j]

"Just so stressed" - actual quote from Eric André about John Dory

(★ my Kofi)

[feroluce]

So this ficlet-ish thing was inspired by @hydrachea, nsfw super genius extraordinaire, but also by the fact that in addition to Boothill's left eye being cybernetic, I like to hc even the parts of him that look human aren't fully natural. I mean the dude eats bullets, after all. I think he should also have vents in his mouth so he can literally blow smoke/steam, it would look super cool. Think Father Gascoigne or Studio BONES' Todoroki. We as a fandom deserve that!!

So anyway, of course, sometimes these vents get blocked up and need to be cleaned manually. Thankfully, Dan Heng is super helpful ☆

Like there's one day where Boothill is lazing around in the archives, fresh off a bounty and happily soaking up the luxury of the Astral Express after however long he's spent tracking his prey through all the dust and dirt with almost no rest.

Boothill likes it in the archives. It's not silent, but it's quiet. There's no music and only muffled voices from outside, but there's the hum of all the computer systems. It makes for a nice place to hide away and recharge when he's just finished exhausting himself.

And besides, Dan Heng is there.

Sometimes the two of them talk back and forth, but today it's mostly quiet...except for-

"I didn't know it was possible for you to get sick."

...Except for Boothill having to constantly clear his throat. That's the thing about your mark trying to flee into the desert. You either go after them and get sand everywhere (and even worse, sticky sand once it gets all bloody) or you wuss out and lose out on the bounty. Personally, Boothill likes being able to afford to eat.

"Grit's stuck in a vent somewhere, 'n' the usual maintenance ain't gettin' it. I'll prob'ly have ta manually dig it out." But later, when he's not laid out half asleep on Dan Heng's extra futon. Usually after a chase as long as this one took, he can shut down for almost a full day. He doesn't want to get up yet.

Something shadows over him, and reflex demands Boothill's eye open. Dan Heng steps around him on his way to some drawer built in the wall on the other side of the room or something. Boothill closes his eye again.

From under his hat he hears the sounds of rummaging, drawers sliding open and shut, the swish of a long coat. The shadow returns.

"Sit up, just momentarily. I have something to help." And Boothill groans a tired don't wanna, but he does it anyway, he hauls himself upright into a kneel. And then he sits up a little straighter because he realizes Dan Heng is standing right over him.

Dan Heng tells him "open your mouth," and Boothill's jaw pops open without his permission, without even a second thought, and hey, what protocol in there ok'd THAT?!?!

Before he can really unpack whatever the heck that just was, though, Dan Heng murmurs for him to say so if he needs them to stop, and then he's sliding a long, hard rod down Boothill's throat, tipped with some soft little brush he probably uses for all his fancy archival equipment.

Dan Heng tells him the handle of the brush is straight and can't be bent, he needs to move his head to be able to reach the vent in his throat. Boothill hums affirmatively; he can't do anything else with his mouth occupied.

Dan Heng's free hand holds him by his jaw, tilts it up slowly but firmly so he has to look straight up at him.

Boothill feels dizzy.

The cycle of blue blood through his artificial heart whirrs just a bit faster, his temperature sensor pings an internal alarm to warn for imminent overheating. Boothill curls his fingers into the guard over his knee as Dan Heng carefully brushes at the dust irritating him. All other sounds- the hum of running equipment, the occasional beep from the computers, the noise of the crew outside of this room- seem to pull away, until all Boothill can focus on is the steady and measured breathing from the man above him.

"Almost done."

Thank the aeons, maybe one of them likes him after all.

"Your tongue is in the way... I'm going to hold it down, ok?"

Nevermind.

The fingers holding his jaw curl around his chin, thumb slipping past open lips to dip into his mouth and pin down his tongue. One of his teeth catch on the digit, breaking skin just enough to bleed a drop where he can taste it. Dan Heng doesn't even flinch. Another temperature alarm pings off in his brain, then another, then another.

Boothill has never been shy about eye contact but oh, god, it nearly kills him when dull green irises flick away from their task and look down right at him as his mouth is held open. He quickly squeezes his own eye shut for some relief.

With his vision cut off, the rest of his senses automatically recalibrate to compensate. He can hear every breath even more distinctly now, every soft inhale and exhale, feel the strain in his neck, the softness of the brush, the hard floor beneath his knees, the hand holding his jaw and the fingerprints that feel like they should leave burns in his skin, the taste of Dan Heng heavy on his tongue-

Forget it, eye open, eye open!!

"Alright. There's one last pebble stuck."

Boothill had been trained to endure torture, back on his homeworld. It was part of being in a gang, part of being a bounty hunter.

Somehow, keeping himself quiet and still as Dan Heng inches the brush even further down the back of his throat is a profoundly similar experience.

The seconds tick by, Dan Heng's brow furrowing, face growing ever more concentrated and Boothill struggles not to watch him too closely, fights down the noise that suddenly tries to escape him as the brush withdraws-

"Swallow."

Stars and aeons, Dan Heng is going to be the death of him.

Boothill swallows. He feels it when the movement finally dislodges the loosened pebble from his vent.

His face feels shockingly cold now bereft of touch, even though Dan Heng's hands are always cool. He asks to see, and Boothill's mouth is already open again to show him, even as he belatedly realizes he could have just told him it had worked.

"Good." There's the slightest smile on Dan Heng's lips as he finally, mercifully, leans back out of his personal space, goes to put away the brush. "That should feel better now." Boothill spends a moment dizzy and dazed, feeling the need to blink spots out of his eye even though his vision is clear. He still hasn't moved off his knees.

What the fudge.

[dxnse-macabre]

GET TO KNOW ME MEME

NAME — angie! PRONOUNS — she/her SEXUALITY — bisexual c: SINGLE / TAKEN — taken

THREE FACTS

— i used to be a fanfic writer that wrote primarily on w.attp.ad. one of my works got A LOT of hits after i stopped writing,,, i mean like 350k views last time i checked. my goal back then was to hit 1 mil but ofc i don't have the time now — i'm also a published author but only for like one book — i have a pet cat that was given to me when i was in middle school. i actually have... no idea how old she was when we got her. i still don't know how old she is. but she still looks & acts young,,, she also acts so sophisticated/stuck up so i've been convinced that she's an immortal being that is just here for the free snacks and a nice home

EXPERIENCE

HOW LONG — i've been writing ever since i was in middle school (6-7th grade) but that was for fanfiction. i joined my first ever tumblr rp community i wanna say like... freshman/sophomore year of high school? it helped me get through a lot of rough times as it was like a form of escapism for me. i believe the first community i joined was the d.etroit b.ecome h.uman rpc. i stayed in that for a FAT minute before i was into the o.verwatch rpc and then the d.ragon a.ge rpc. if you wanna check out my really old blogs (they aren't active anymore, but i kept them up so i can look at them here and there) here they are: @ask-the-rk900 , @fen-dwxller, @bxckle-up @luridhearted @scxrred-prince (luridhearted was an attempt at a multimuse HAH) WHAT PLATFORMS — primarily tumblr, before i shifted over to discord for a couple years as i only had time to rp with like one person. afterwards, i ended up coming back to tumblr. if you're talking about now, i only rp on tumblr because i have too much fun with formatting my posts BEST EXPERIENCE — i had an rp partner that was like my bestie throughout my highschool years. we had our own ocs and they were always sad and depressed because we were too LMAO. but during that time, i absolutely LOVED our rps and our own characters. we drifted apart because of our own differences, but i hope they're doing okay now. they still influence me heavy to this day, and every now and then i look back at our stories that we made together. always missing you, ash.

MUSE TYPE

FEMALE OR MALE — i've never really written female muses, unless they are older..(?) an example of this is a.na a.mari from o.verwatch. i've always loved writing male muses. a niche that i'd like to say that i'm particularly good at is the closeted bisexual that always believed they were straight and is in constant denial. oh, and rockerboy. i take a lot of inspiration from a fanfic for that sort of portrayal and it's so heavily ingrained in my brain. astarion is so not that but it's a nice change of pace. his rockstar AU helps me go back to my roots though. FLUFF , ANGST OR SMUT — i LOVE angst. angst is my go-to thing-- i feel like i'm some kind of sadist that loves seeing my muse get hurt????? is there something wrong with me???????? an example of this is fluff masking the angst underneath. ORRRR smut masking the angst underneath. it's been years since i've written anything remotely smutty and i have no idea if i can still write it hahaha PLOTS OR MEMES — i prefer a little bit of both. send in a meme, maybe even plot about how to go about it? or vice versa. those are SO yummy LONG OR SHORT REPLIES — depends on the mood of the day. most of the time i love making long replies because the muse tends to get carried away (he's very talkative, as you all know) but i know that a lot of gems come from short little banter-like threads so i love those too! BEST TIME TO WRITE — whenever the muse lets me. sometimes astarion gives a little pouty face and tells me he's too tired and doesn't wanna interact. sometimes astarion is bursting with energy cause he needs someone to fuck around with. sometimes... astarion is full of himself and wants to stare at pictures of himself. the muse wants what the muse wants, and if i force it, it's the first step to losing my muse ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S) — on a trauma level, me && astarion are very similar. both of us felt like we needed to overly-sexualize ourselves to people who we deemed worthy of protecting us, so there is a sense of performance that we need to bring to every relationship. it's hard for the both of us to take off that mask since it's so second nature to us. i haven't been physically scarred by another person like astarion has, but i do have my own scars for other reasons. to me, astarion is essentially an embodiment of my past trauma that i can express in a healthy way. i guess that's why i've stuck with him longer than i have with any other muse---because of how familiar he is. (also, back with my rp partner i had on discord, neil was their faceclaim as well so that's a double whammy)

TAGGED BY: @wildskissed TAGGING: @crimesought @shdwtouch @crownshattered @stilettobite + anyone else that wants to do this!!!

[invisiblyvisiblejay]

ive decided that generally on principle im not even going to think abt whether im in love w girl im dating bc like. she's not even my girlfriend it doesn't matter if we're "in love" or whatever but also i just.... think it all the time and someday im gonna just fucking say it fully accidentally like she said something last night and my like. first instinct was to be like "haha yeah but i love u anyways" and i didn't say it (thank god) but it took me like. a full minute to be like oh glad i didn't go w that response 😭😭

[lokis-wager]

Just got through some playthroughs of 5 Days a Stranger, 7 Days a Skeptic, and Trilby's Notes, and now I'm wondering how the Chzo Mythos isn't an embedded part of tumblr culture.

[astrxealis]

i think it's just. so lovely whenever i see fanart of blue period? considering that. it's all about art. idk if my artist friend/s (either irl or online) are into blue period but i hope that if they do get into it they will enjoy it (and make pretty fanart hehe or any kind of art medium to be honest, as i think it's all beautiful) !! <3

[prokopetz]

Since we're getting into "did you know that Santa's eight tiny reindeer are a reference to the eight legs of Odin's steed?" season once again, remember: while there are some elements of Christmas (or Hallowe'en, or Easter, or...) observations that are probably pre-Christian in origin, before one believes any of that this-is-really-100%-just-a-Pagan-holiday-with-the-serial-numbers-filed-off stuff, one must consider all of the following possibilities:

Our earliest known records of the cited pre-Christian practices were written down by some random Christian monk centuries after the fact, and we genuinely have no idea how accurate this account is, to what extent the apparent similarities with Christian practice are due to the author deliberately or unwittingly putting a Christian spin on it, or indeed, whether they were just making shit up.

The similarities between the two sets of practices have been exaggerated or misrepresented by Christian writers who were bent for prefiguration theology (i.e., the idea that the Bible echoes backwards in time and pre-Christian religious practices were unwittingly imitating future Christian practices).

The similarities between the two sets of practices have been exaggerated or misrepresented by Protestant writers who believe that all Pagan deities are Satan in disguise, so they think that if they can prove that Catholic practices are secretly Pagan in origin, that proves that Catholics are secretly Satanists.

The similarities between the two sets of practices have been exaggerated or misrepresented by overzealous mythographers trying to prove that all mythology and religion throughout all of human history is secretly a single unified monomyth; if it's pre-Victorian, expect shades of prefiguration theology, while if it's post-Victorian, expect a lot of stuff about the Collective Unconscious.

A bunch of 19th Century proto-Fascists were trying to construct a pre-Jewish cultural identity (and considered Christianity to be tainted by association), but didn't want to give up any of the fun rituals, so they made some shit up about how it was still okay to do Christmas because something something Odin, or whatever.

A bunch of early 20th Century Pagan reconstructionists filled in the gaps in their understanding of pre-Christian ritual with culturally Christian assumptions, then turned around and pointed at their own accidentally Christianised reconstructions as evidence that Christian practices are derived from them.

A bunch of late 20th Century self-help manual authors tried to break into the occult bookstore market by uncritically repeating any or all of the above.

Someone on the Internet just made it up.

[ilostyou]

the birds are so loud dont they know they have to stay quiet until after i go to sleep. idc what time it is

[get-more-bald]

who else wants to be dead and gone because they can only remember one time someone else apologized to them

[rafesangelita]

⋆˚✿˖° scare actors in a haunted house weren’t the only thing that made bambi!reader scream.. in which you and rafe accidentally stumble into an empty room while running away from a group of ‘killer’ clowns.

warnings: haunted house setting, slight teasing, ft. topper and kelce, getting chased, dirty talk, fingering, quickie, unprotected sex, semi-public sex

a/n: this is a collab fic w/ my mootie @fae-of-prey & my first ever collab on this account <3 please go check out the fic she posted to see the prompt i gave her 🤍 happy early halloween!

w/c: 1.6k

“rafe, i told you i didn’t want to do this!” you cried, clinging onto his arm as you two neared the doors of the haunted house. he took your hand in his, an amused expression playing on his face as your heart pounded in your ears. “baby, you’re with me. absolutely nothing could happen to you, ‘swear.” rafe reassured you, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. it didn’t help in the slightest when one of the scare actors crept up on you in the line, tapping your shoulder before screaming in your face. rafe, along with topper and kelce all laughed, your cheeks heating with embarrassment.

rafe saw a flash of hurt cast over your features, quickly shutting up his friends as he pulled you to his side. “alright, how about this; you walk through this haunted house with me, and i’ll finally take you to that pumpkin patch, ‘sound good?” you looked up at him, a pout on your lips. “..and you have to dress up as whatever i want you to be for halloween.” you added, both of you moving up in the line. refraining from cursing under his breath, rafe agreed. “alright it’s a deal.” he nodded, both of you locking pinky’s. soon, you two were at the front of the line, a man with a clipboard stood outside of the doors.

“if you could please look over this waiver, we need the signatures of all participants before allowing anyone inside.” rafe signed the waiver without hestation, passing the clipboard over to you. “you didn’t even read it..” you whispered, looking over the paper. obstruction of vision, flashing lights, small spaces, nothing too bad. you signed your name, giving the clipboard to the man before he opened the door for you and rafe. “have fun!” he shut it behind you two. you clung onto rafe, your boyfriend holding onto you tightly as he guided you through the dark room.

“you’re alright, just keep walking.” as soon as you took a step, a man in a grotesque mask popped out in front of you and rafe before allowing you two to go down the hallway. “i can’t even see anything!” you screamed, nearly tripping over your own feet. rafe cursed under his breath as he helped you balance, his hands holding you tightly to his side. “fuck, i didn’t think it was going to be this dark.” he looked around, your eyes shining with fear as a weeping lady started making her way down from the end of the hallway. “i think we should run.” you gripped rafe’s fingers, your heart pounding with every step she took.

just as rafe was going to agree, the lady in a bloodied white dress bolted towards you two, a piercing scream leaving her lips. “they’re coming!” you and rafe flashed each other a look, a metal door creaking open to your right. before you could turn, a pair of hands grabbed you by the back of your dress, the death grip you had on rafe’s arm making him tumble inside the room with you. “shit!” rafe fell, dragging you down with him. just as you two were getting up, the lights turned on, your eyes widening as you realized you and rafe were surrounded by at least eight clowns.

rafe eyed the various weapons they carried. from baseball bats with nails, to bloody chainsaws, he swallowed thickly at the menacing sight. “alright, this is a little scary now i can’t lie..” you whimpered when they started circling you two. “you only have one chance to get out.. make it count.” just then, they made way for you and rafe to run through a set of double doors, their heavy footsteps clashing with the cement flooring as they chased after you and rafe. the lights were flashing rapidly, making everything look as if it moved in slow motion. “y/n! over here!” rafe shouted, reaching for your hand.

you grabbed onto him, a gasp leaving your lips when you two ran past a sign that said ‘employees only’. “wait! i don’t think we were supposed to turn in here!” you were panting, looking behind you as rafe broke through the door. “who cares? at least we lost them.” he laughed, pulling you inside the dimly lit room before twisting the lock shut. he flipped the light switch on, and instead of being surrounded by clowns this time, you two were surrounded by racks of costumes. “yeah, we’re definitely not supposed to be in here.” you sighed, watching as rafe plopped down on a chair in the corner of the room.

taking a moment to inspect your dress, you grimaced as the once sparkling white material was now dingy and stained, your shoes matching the mess. “i look disgusting..” you whispered, your skin damp with sweat. rafe looked up, his eyes scanning down your figure. “no you don’t.” he scoffed, motioning for you to sit on his lap. you obliged, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as you took your seat. “what made you want to wear a dress for a haunted house, hm?” he pressed his nose against your neck, his hair tickling your skin. you giggled, resting a hand on his chest as you shrugged.

“just thought it would look nice..” rafe hummed, pressing a kiss to the underside of your jaw before you felt his fingers slip underneath the fabric of your dress. “what are you doing?” you caught onto rafe’s ministrations, your eyes darting around the room as his fingers inched closer to your underwear. “we’ve done it everywhere else.. why not add the annual ‘kildare haunted house’ to the list?” you gasped softly when he started rubbing you over your panties. instinctively, your thighs opened for the man at your side, your head falling on his shoulder while he continued rubbing hard circles onto your clit.

“rafe, what if someone walks in?” your cheeks heated at the thought. “they’re not.. will you please stop worrying and just let me take care of you?” you swallowed thickly, nodding as he brought your leg over his thigh so you could straddle him. “it’s not my fault you look so fuckin’ pretty every time we go out somewhere.” he said through gritted teeth, hiking your dress up around your waist. finally taking your lips with his own, you whimpered when you felt him move your panties to the side. “being scared gets you this wet?” he slid a finger between your folds, his digit gliding with ease.

you hummed, your hips moving to grind on his hand. “being chased seems to turn you on..” he teased your entrance, “at least now i know i could chase you around tanneyhill and if i catch you, i could do whatever i want to you.” you moaned at his words, the idea igniting a fire in your belly. “that sounds good?” before you could reply, you felt rafe’s finger slide into your soaked cunt, a half-scream falling from your lips at the delicious stretch. “fuck, bambi,” he smiled wickedly, using his other hand to hold your dress out of the way, “you’re gonna let everyone know we’re in here.” rafe laughed.

you didn’t care at this point, your eyebrows knitting together as rafe pumped his digit in and out of your needy pussy. despite you buzzing with pleasure, your clit ached to be touched, the lack of friction making you whine. as if reading your mind, rafe unzipped his pants, guiding the tip of his cock to your entrance before you sunk down on him, both of you letting out a moan. “even with fake blood on you, you’re gorgeous.” rafe wiped away a red streak from your cheek, his eyes swimming with lust as you moved on top of him. “thank you.” you hiccuped, grabbing onto his shoulders for leverage.

rafe’s hand snaked down between you two, his thumb stroking your sensitive bundle of nerves as he whispered filthy obscenities in your ear. “ride that fucking cock, baby. show me how bad you want it.” you cried out, your nails digging into his skin as he sped up the ministrations on your clit. the sound of your juices squelching with every movement of your hips turned rafe on beyond belief. within minutes, rafe felt his release approaching, your own high not too far away as you started trembling in his arms. your thighs burned for some relief, rafe could tell by the way your hips stuttered that you needed a break.

“rub your clit for me, bambi.” he guided your hand down to where his thumb once was, locking his arms around your waist before thrusting up into you at a brutal pace. you squealed in pleasure, both of your orgasms hitting each other at the same time. “son of a bitch..” rafe hissed as he spilled into you, your walls milking him for everything he had. you bit into his shoulder, the stinging sensation making him pinch your thigh. “oh my god,” rafe’s chest rose and fell with each breath, “are you okay?” you nodded weakly, resting your head on his shoulder.

rafe got both of you up, the two of you examining yourselves in the full body mirror to make sure you two looked presentable. “so i was thinking.. what if you dressed up as woody from toy story and i’ll be little bo peep?” you fixed your dress, batting your eyelashes up at him. once rafe fixed his belt, he flashed you a glare. “jesus christ, y/n..” he shook his head. “you promised!” just as you were going to clasp your hands together and beg, the door knob started rattling. “open the fucking door, man!” rafe recognized the voice immediately. “it’s locked, dumbass!”

“is that kelce and topper?”

[b1mbodoll]

GABI HOW COULD YOU POST THAT ABOUT STEPBRO JAKE YOU KNOW stepbro enha are my weakness (the thought plagues my brain ALL the TIME!!!!) and i was thinking abt it (again.. no one is surprised.. and ur post + the no doubt mv only fuelled my craziness) so. i’m gonna need to set the scene w corporate worker intern blah!jake. followed in his dads footsteps because the money is good and he’s got a knack for the math, but that doesn’t mean the job itself isn’t GRUELLING :( so when his dad marries your mom and introduces him to the sweetest little stepsister it genuinely feels like he’s been given a gift. you’re eager for a big brother to gossip with ‘n jakey’s just so accommodating and lets you sit on his thigh and babble about whatever you want as long as your pjs are thin enough that he can distract himself guessing at the colour of your panties. he can’t help himself from resting his hands on your waist and subtly repositioning you, grinning when bouncing his thigh jus’ a little has you squirming and stuttering! he definitely makes pervy comments too :( calls you his wife ‘n jokes about marrying you because coming home to you lounging in his bedroom is something that gets his slacks all tight in the front! he asks for a kiss on the cheek goodbye if you’re up early enough ‘n expects one when he gets home — you brush it off as accidental when he turns his head too fast ‘n you catch his lips instead. buys you the prettiest things and insists on spoiling you with shopping sprees that have him ruining his expensive boxers at the thought that you’re being mistaken for a couple :( like This Jake fully embodies the mean bully you talked abt in your post whenever he’s had a tough day or something you do ruins his fantasy — he likes thinking about you as his pretty little wife, not his slutty stepsister prancing about in the clothes he paid for, dolling yourself up for some stupid date! (as always, this is crazy long but i think you might expect this from me now.. also referring to me as ur angel baby did irreparable damage to my sanity gabi ‘m blushing and twirling my hair rn i cant)

— lots of love ‘n kisses, ur fairy anon

warnings: stepcest + creampies + masturbation + handjob ment. + daddy kink + orgasm denial + dacryphilia + pregnancy ment

💌: m gna eat u omg r u kidding me im so obsessed with this, my brain is melting n im drooling 😵‍💫

calls you his wife … yeah this is so… ‘m moaning. he totally would, n he’d even get u a cute little ring to wear, fantasizing about how it’d catch the light when he gets you to stroke his cock 😵‍💫 jerks off n nearly moans your name while thinking abt his cum leaking from his tip onto your ring :( maybe you’d even be a good little wife n clean them off with your tongue

god forbid you take the ring off, though! your husband stepbrother is absolutely livid when he finds out that you’ve left it on your vanity rather than keep it on for your date; n yeah its actually Very hot seein ur big brother all mad, his button up shirt undone at the top, sleeves rolled up n displaying his thick n veiny forearms, and his hair is all messed up as he plays the role of an overprotective big brother (is it in ur head or is he sounding a bit possessive?) but all you can picture is tugging on it while he fucks you, n you’re beating yourself up mentally for even thinking about your brother in that way (little do you know he needs to put a baby in you)

something you do ruins his fantasy… r u joking me.. sure this can go with the lil date idea but.. jake getting genuinely upset when you call him your brother 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 would your brother tease your virgin cunt every time he had you in his lap? or press kisses to your neck while running his hands over your thighs, daring to pull at your sleep shorts n shallowly slide in your needy little pussy? either you’re even more of an airhead than he thought, or you enjoy watching him struggle to maintain his composure because there’s no way you dont know he wants you

he would absolutely love the two of you being mistaken for a couple n jakey’s quick to speak over your denial, a sweet smile on his face as he replies with a “thank you” to every person that calls you two a cute couple <333 when you ask abt it he just kisses your cheek (a bit too tenderly to be in a stepsibling kind of way) n says its just “too much of a hassle” to correct everyone… n even asks you if it’s such a bad thing for people to think he’s ur bf… are you embarrassed of him?

when jake finally gets you desperate enough for him, he has so much fucking fun making you say filthy things n has even more fun watching you squirm at his dirtytalk.

his pace is unbearable, you’re unable to do anything but take it as he batters your cervix with his fat cock n manipulates your body, pushing n pulling your legs to feel you even deeper. “d’you like havin’ my cock inside your tight cunt? does it feel good, princess?” he questions, voice thick with arousal.

but you’re too fucked out to reply, of course you like it but there’s no way you can form a coherent sentence as he keeps up the brutal pace, his tip hits your cervix with every thrust n he’s relentless. you’re so close, so fucking close and…

oh. it’s gone. your impending orgasm fades and it has your face crumpling, tears pouring down your cheeks at the lack of stimulation. why’d he stop? why why why why wh-

“i asked you a question, angel. y’gonna be a good girl n answer me?” a sniffle from you, and then: “jakey! please don’t stop, ‘m sorry ‘m sososo sorry please fuck me! pleaseplease it feels so fuckin’ good! love my brother’s cock so much-“ he cuts you off with a harsh slap to your tit, a sneer forming on his face at your surprised gasp.

“‘m not your fuckin’ brother. god,” he laughs humorlessly. “am i gonna have to fuck you until you get it through your dumb little head?”

jake pinches your nipple between his fingers n twists it enough to cause a jolt of pain to shoot through you n make your walls clench around him. “i’m not your brother,” he thrusts into you harshly with each word. “‘n you’re not my fucking sister, got it?”

your bottom lip trembles, eyes screwed shut with pleasure as he resumes fucking you n jake’s brain is foggy, he can’t believe he’s ballsdeep in your pussy n before he knows it, he spills his deepest desire to you

“you’re my wife,” jake sighs, pressing his forehead to your own. “say it. say you’re my wife.. my sweet little wife, god look at you. takin’ my cock so well, ‘s like you were made for me”

it’s not long before your orgasm builds yet again, white hot pleasure consuming you n his words send you over the edge, pussy spasming n clamping down on his thick cock until you cream around him.

“‘m your wife, jakey! ‘m your wife, yourwife yourwife, fuck. fill me up, knock me up, jakey.” you wraps your arms around him to pull him close, pressing your lips to his ear before whispering, “‘m gonna make you a daddy.”

jake cums with a deep, guttural groan, his teeth clenched as thick, hot cum spurts from his cockhead and fills your womb to the brim. legs wrap around his waist to keep him inside you n it takes him a second to realize your lips are moving n you’re talking to him. “sorry princess, what’d you say…?”

you giggle n bat your lashes up at him, still wet from your tears, i said, “do you wanna go again?”

[lecl3rcw]

KEEPING UP WITH THE LECLERCS | Leclerc brothers x sister! reader

—————————————

Pairings: Charles, Arthur, Lorenzo Leclerc x sister! reader (model reader)

Summary: As Arthur and Y/N are on live together, Arthur accidentally spills his guts on Y/N crush on this mystery man, who is this man? And what will her brothers’s reaction be.

Warnings: I’m using meeya dugied’s photos as a reference! But reader has no faceclaim!

Author’s note: WHOO it’s been a while, hope you guys have been well, I just wanted to say Thankyou for being so patient with me, I’ve had a lot going on in my life but just know your requests are in the process of being finalized! I’m the meantime, this is just a little short fic for everyone!

____________________________________________

“Do you think the chicken came first or the egg?”

“….Shut up Arthur”

The boy narrowed his eyes at his twin, the two youngest leclercs were on Y/N’s Instagram live because they were so bored and since then it’s been a blur.

“Y/N who is your favorite brother out of the 3, Lorenzo for sure” she reads out the question and answers it without hesitation.

“Girllll whats up your ass today, did Jo-” before he could say more, the girl quickly covers his mouth, “Shut the fuck up Arthur! I swear I’m never telling you anything again!” She says, pushing his face out of the frame.

“Ouch! See guys this is what happens when you’ve had the fattest crush on this dude named J-” She interrupted him once more.

“Ok everybody! That’s it for this live, Thankyou so much for keeping us entertained and I hope you all have an amazing day! Love you” she says quickly before turning the live off.

“You’re actually such a cunt Arthur” she says as she pushes him again.

“What? It’s not like I said his name” he responds standing up

“it’s not your place Hoe” she responds standing up.

“Whatever girl, talk to the fucking hand” he says raising his hand in the most sassy way possible before walking off.

What in the sassy men apocalypse, she shook it off and just allayed down on the couch, before she got a text.

She rolls her eyes again, “I’m so sick of them” she scoffs.

She smiled at the replies her tweet got, the f1 fanbase has got to be the most creative one yet to exist. Tired from scrolling, she shuts her phone down and decides to rest her eyes. However, her peace only lasted for 20 minutes as her phone rang for a Group FaceTime call. She lets out a loud groan but answers it.

“So Y/N, Tell us who this man” Lorenzo asks.

“Again, no hi, no hello” she responds.

“Y/N I swear!” Charles interrupts her.

“Oh my god, for fucks sake, it’s Jo-” Arthur starts but is immediately interrupted,

“STOP, fine, I’ll text it to you” she says before shooting the groupchat a text.

“Oh Y/N, you know that never ends well” Charles says.

“Says you? Let me ask all your ex girlfriends” she responds in a very snarky way, Charles looked taken aback.

“Ok damn girl, calm down no need to get all violent🙄” he says visibly rolling his eyes.

“Sorry Charlie, i didn’t mean that, if Alexandra and Charlotte are there tell them i love them and that they’re way better than their mans, anyways bye goodnight, have a good trip” she says.

“You too Chérie, hope your photo shoot goes well tomorrow!” Charles says before hanging up, Lorenzo adds to that with “and goodluck with J-”

“OK GOODBYE” she says hanging up, she lets out a sigh and puts her hand on her face. She gets up and does her skincare routine, and goes to sleep.

The next morning, her flight to Milan was very early so she was at the airport by 6.

She hugs Arthur, “Bye tur tur, hope your race testing goes well” he hugs back tight, “you too Y/n/n”

She hugs her mom tightly, “Love you Maman” she squeezes her, Pascale reciprocating the action. “I love you, text me when you land” her mom says, and the young girl nods. She waved one last goodbye to her mom and her brother before boarding the flight.

She makes a quick post on her Instagram before shutting her phone off for her flight.

y/n.leclerc

y/n.leclerc june with my fav people ever🫶🏻 p.s. Alexandra is the best photographer

tagged charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, lorenzotollotaleclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, carla.brocker, charlottedipietro, pascale_leclerc

Liked by bengals, charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, and 1,000,000 others

arthur_leclerc WHATS 4+4😝

^y/n.leclerc ATEEEEEEE

^charles_leclerc girllll more like -8

^y/n.leclerc I’m gonna beat your ass.

alexandrasaintmleux my chérie😍

^y/n.leclerc THE LITERAL LOVE OF MY LIFE😍

bellahadid let’s get married

^y/n.leclerc I’m gonna bite you☺️

leclercupdates NOT THE BENGALS LIKING

^wags4life LIKE ARIANA WHAT ARE U DOING HERE?

y/n’swhore SHES LITERALLY THE MOST BEAUTIFUL PERSON EVER😞

What the girl didn’t expect was to get a text from one of the most popular teams ever.

Bengals Hello! We would like to host a partnership with you, we wanted to invite you to one of our games as an honorary guest, you can bring up to 6 people.

……

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Hello again everyone! Thank you all so much for the overwhelming support for the last part of the "Merlin accidentally conquers Camelot" au! I've had so much fun writing this au, and I'm so glad that you've all enjoyed it too! This will probably be the final part of this au (for now), since I have more au ideas to share with you all, but I'll probably revisit this au some day! For now, I'm approaching two pretty big tumblr milestones, so I'm working on an extra-special au to post in celebration of those (and I won't give anything away, but I think that this new au may be my best one yet, so stay tuned)!

Also, warning, this one is a long post! Be prepared!

Now, onto part four of this au! You can find part one here, part two here, and part three here!

As it turned out, planning a royal wedding was no easy feat.

Merlin had thought that simply adding a quick and (hopefully) painless wedding ceremony at the end of his coronation would make everything go smoothly. After all, the castle would already be decorated, they'd already have all of the important lords in attendance, and everything needed for a consort's coronation ceremony would already be there.

However, when Merlin announced to the lords and the steward in charge of preparing his coronation ceremony that he'd also need a quick wedding and coronation to take Arthur as his consort, they reacted with so much shock and horror that Merlin thought for a second that he'd accidentally announced that he was ordering their executions instead. The only person in the council room who didn't look like death itself had just appeared before him was Gwaine, who took advantage of he shocked silence following Merlin's proclamation to start laughing so uncontrollably that he doubled over and had to grab the wall for support.

Merlin had expected some shock and pushback from the council at his decision, not... this. All of the lords on the council had gone as pale as parchment, some trembling in their seats with fear. What on earth...

"Sire," the ever-unflappable Geoffrey called out, jolting Merlin from his confusion at the state of terror that had gripped the other council members, "while such a marriage would not be unlawful, it would certainly be unprecedented. I'm not questioning your judgement, I know that establishing yourself as a strong ruler this early in your reign is paramount, but are you sure that this is the best way to go about it? I'm certain that the citizens of Camelot will accept you as their rightful ruler as soon as they witness their true power for themselves, so taking the former king as your war prize isn't entirely necessary to show your dominance over the land."

The lords grew several shades paler at Geoffrey's words, and the trembling councilman sitting next to Geoffrey leaned in to fearfully hiss something into the librarian's ear. Merlin watched with growing confusion as Geoffrey's eyes went wide at whatever had just been whispered to him, and he rushed to speak once more.

"Of course, if this decision was made as some form of revenge or humiliation towards the Pendragon line, that is well within your right as a conqueror, Your Majesty. We would simply advise you to take the disgraced king as a concubine, perhaps, instead of your official consort. As a ruler, you must now also consider the issue of one day producing legitimate heirs, which can only be borne to you through your consort."

Merlin blinked, desperately trying to follow whatever logic Geoffrey was using. Take Arthur as a concubine?! Had the old man gone insane?! And Merlin certainly wasn't concerned about heirs, since if he got his way, then his reign wouldn't last longer than this week!

Still, with most of the council looking like they were being plagued by waking nightmares, they weren't likely to listen to Merlin's very reasonable objections to being king in the first place, so Merlin just had to get them off his back until the wedding.

After a deep sigh, which made most of the council members flinch back with a still confusing amount of fear, Merlin addressed Geoffrey's concerns.

"Thank you for your input, but I'm afraid that my decision has already been made on this... issue. I will be taking Arthur as my consort at my coronation, and my decision is final. And don't concern yourself with the topic of heirs, that will be sorted out shortly."

Several lords choked on the air at Merlin's last comment, with a couple outright fainting at his words. Merlin's brows furrowed even more with befuddlement. What... what had he said that garnered such a reaction?! He was just telling them not to worry about it!

(Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Merlin, the lords had a very different idea of what their new king- a powerful, brutal warlord and sorcerer- had planned. They interpreted Merlin's intent to marry Arthur as an act of revenge against the son of the man who killed off so many of his people during the purge. It apparently wasn't enough for the mighty Emrys to defeat his enemy and leave him with nothing to his name. No, this ruthless new king of theirs planned on forcing the former king into a life of humiliation and servitude in the court that was once his own. To a king, that must be a fate worse than death.

These lords, who were some of the most active and complicit members of Uther's purge, looked at the punishment that Emrys had planned for Arthur and thought if that's what happened to the king, what's he going to do to us?!)

The days went by quickly after that meeting, with Merlin's time being filled with a never-ending list of his new duties and things that needed to be done before his coronation, not to mention organizing the coronation itself and the subsequent wedding (which Arthur didn't know about yet, as Merlin had been deliberately avoiding the dungeons after his last conversation with Arthur).

It took the better part of a week for everything to finally be prepared for the official coronation ceremony. The ceremony itself would consist of Merlin being crowned in front of the court (a nauseating thought for Merlin himself), the vassal lords and knights willing to swear fealty to him taking the oath of loyalty, and finally Arthur being handfasted to Merlin and crowned consort.

Merlin was, for once, thankful for the amount of work that he had to do over the days leading up to the ceremony, as it kept his mind busy and his thoughts away from the pit of self-loathing that had taken up permanent residence in his head. After all, what kind of friend stole everything from the person they love the most in the world and then turns around and forces that same friend (and unrequited crush) to marry them?!

Merlin had attempted to rationalize his selfish decision to keep Arthur in the dark regarding his plan to reinstate him as king by telling himself that if Arthur didn't know about the wedding until the last minute, then he would spend less time worrying about it in the long run after he was king again! Besides, if Merlin's plan worked, they would only be married for a day or two, so there was no reason to get Arthur worked up over that by telling him earlier!

Truly, Merlin was not being a complete scumbag by doing this, he was just looking out for his friend's best interests and mental wellbeing! This would all blow over in a a matter of days anyways, Merlin was certain of it.

Still, Merlin found himself anxious and pacing the floor of his room on the morning of the ceremony. He had sent a team of servants and guards to retrieve Arthur from his cell and prepare him for the ceremony, so he likely wouldn't see Arthur until he was brought into the great hall for the handfasting ceremony. However, he still worried over Arthur's reaction when he learned what exactly when was being prepared for.

This worry lingered in Merlin's mind and consumed his thoughts throughout the entire day and into the coronation ceremony, so much so that his own coronation seemed like a blur to him. One moment he was standing in the great hall in front of the assembled crowd of lords and knights, and in the next, he was sitting on Arthur's throne with Arthur's crown on his head, with the crowd shouting "long live the king".

The sound of it almost made Merlin sick. Those words should never be directed at him, but he'd make this right soon enough. He just had to suffer through this ceremony to appease those disloyal lords who had turned their backs on their true king.

Perhaps the worst part of the coronation itself was the ceremony in which the lords and knights willing to pledge their fealty to him took an oath declaring such. It was no surprise to Merlin to see those weasels on the council of lords pledging themselves to save their own skin, but the knights who showed up to pledge their fealty were... very unexpected.

Look, Merlin had assumed that it would just be Gwaine and a small handful of guards and younger knights that he had roped into his mischievous scheme swearing loyalty so him. All of the other knights with their wits intact would surely still be down in the cells of the dungeon, holding true to their prior oaths of loyalty and keeping their true king company.

What Merlin did not expect, however, was for nearly a quarter of all of Camelot's knights to take a knee before him and pledge their loyalty, led by a highly amused Gwaine, who was no doubt enjoying every minute of this. Merlin quickly scanned the crowd of knights, trying to take count of who all had turned their backs on Arthur and could no longer be trusted.

Gwaine, of course, came at no surprise. Many of those assembled were commoner knights whom Arthur had taken in, including Percival, but the giant regularly got pulled into Gwaine's nonsense, so this wasn't truly that much of a shock if Merlin thought about it. There were a fair number of noble-born knights in the crowd, including all of those whom Merlin had noted had a softer outlook on magic. And then, of course, there were a decent number of pompous, high-born knights who had never given a lick about magic or loyalty, they just wanted to preserve their own wealth and power no matter the cost.

Merlin narrowed his eyes at the cluster of those knights. All the rest had logical reasons to side with Merlin, between Gwaine's persuasiveness, solidarity between the lower class, or a connection or sympathy towards magic, so they would be allowed to stay in court after Arthur had retaken his rightful throne. But these knights? These cowardly snakes had to be dealt with at the first opportunity. But how could he get rid of them without people becoming suspicious?

... Wait a minute, Merlin was king now! He might only have that title for a day or so, but in that time, he could certainly use it! (And he absolutely was not using this as a tactic to prolong this part of the ceremony so that he had a few more minutes of peace before the wedding began.)

Right, but how was he going to play this? He couldn't exactly just announce that he wanted those knights to leave because he wanted them gone before Arthur took over again.

Merlin narrowed his eyes at the group of treacherous knights and noted how they squirmed a bit under his gaze, with even some of the people around them shuddering. Right, he looked like a ruthless and powerful sorcerer to them now. He could use that to his advantage.

As the knights finished reciting their oaths, Merlin held up his hand, signaling for them to stay in place. The knights did so, but a confused and concerned murmuring started buzzing around at this strange departure from the normal ceremony. Slowly, Merlin lifted his hand and pointed at the assembled group of knights in the back.

"You lot. In the back."

The murmuring died down the instant Merlin opened his mouth and was instead replaced by an oppressive dread weighing down the ornately decorated hall. If Merlin wasn't trying so hard to keep a straight, intimidating face, he would have winced at causing such a wave of fear with nothing more than a few words.

Hesitantly, one of the called out knights stepped forward, addressing their new king.

"Yes, your majesty? Is there something you require of us?"

Merlin held back the urge to smirk as an idea, and a very satisfying one at that, formed in his head. He quietly cleared his throat and put on his most imperious "Emrys" voice that he could muster.

"I can sense insincerity in your hearts with my magic. Just as you abandoned the previous king, you would also turn your backs on me at the first opportunity to do so. Do not even attempt to deny it, you know just as well as I do that this true. I cannot trust any such men as knights of mine."

The group of knights went pale as Merlin called them out for their flimsy loyalty, and at once whispers began fly in the crowd. Perhaps they were intrigued by this show of his "powers"? Were they scandalized by this public shaming of a group of high-ranking knights?

Either way, the knights immediately began groveling, begging Merlin to let them keep their positions, their wealth, their power, but Merlin dismissed them with a wave of a hand and publicly revoked their knighthoods. The murmuring of the remaining people in the great hall grew louder as the disgraced former knights made their way out of the hall, no doubt intimidated and scandalized by how quickly their new ruler was purging his court of the disloyal.

However, with the loyal knights having taken their oaths and the untrustworthy ones having been cast out, the coronation ceremony was now officially complete, meaning that Merlin could no longer stall what would come next.

Merlin sat still on his stolen throne, trying his best not to fidget with nervousness as Geoffrey gave some traditional speech that had to be done before the doors of the great hall opened to let consort walk down the aisle to the throne.

After a couple minutes, Geoffrey's monotonous voice became nothing but a buzzing in Merlin's ears as he stared at the doors of the hall, desperately trying to imagine any scenario where those doors wouldn't open to an Arthur who was filled with nothing but rage and betrayal.

All too soon, Geoffrey's droning speech ended, and the trumpets in the hall announced the arrival of the soon-to-be-consort and signaled for everyone of lower rank to stand. Merlin's heart leapt to his throat as he jumped to his feet, even though he was the only person in the room who didn't need to. Ever so slowly, the doors to the hall swung open, revealing... Arthur.

Merlin damn near choked on his own saliva at the sight of him. He had seen Arthur in a wide range of states over the years as his manservant, ranging anywhere from sleep-rumbled to solemnly prepared for battle. But this... he had never seen anything like it.

Merlin couldn't decide if whoever had been in charge of dressing Arthur and preparing him for the ceremony ought to either be promoted to Arthur's personal tailor or immediately banished. In place of Arthur's usual surcoat and chainmail for official ceremonies, which was what Merlin had foolishly assumed the servants would dress Arthur in, there was... a monstrosity that would haunt Merlin's dreams for the rest of his life.

Merlin didn't even know how to begin to describe it. The garment that the servants had no doubt forced Arthur into, as Merlin knew that he would never wear such a thing of his own accord, was somewhere between a set of intricately intertwined robes and a dress, which hugged Arthur's shoulders, upper arms, and thighs, highlighting the muscles there. Most of the outfit appeared to be made out of a rich velvet, dyed in a majestic royal blue that both looked entirely out of place on Arthur and brought out his eyes like nothing Merlin had ever seen before. And dear gods, was that lace on there?! And why the hell did the outfit need elbow-length lace gloves?!

(The servants who had been in charge of dressing Arthur for the ceremony had assumed that their brutal new warlord would probably want his war prize to look as far from a warrior as possible, in order to further prove that he had beaten the previous rulers. So, they selected a delicate and elegant outfit for Arthur in the hopes of appeasing their new king.)

Merlin swallowed dryly as Arthur slowly began making his way down the aisle with measured footsteps. The movement snapped Merlin out of whatever temporary madness the outfit had sent him spiraling into, and Merlin finally locked eyes with Arthur.

Merlin winced at the sheer amount of rage that Arthur managed to fit into one glare as he took another step towards the throne that was rightfully his. Merlin tried to give Arthur his most reassuring smile, but he was almost certain it only came across as a nervous grimace.

Just go along with this, Merlin tried to beg of Arthur with only his eyes. Their bond had always been one that allowed them to communicate without words, and Merlin prayed that their connection would hold strong once more and get his message across to Arthur.

Neither Arthur's impressive glare nor his furious scowl let up though, but he kept his pace towards the throne steady, which Merlin decided to take as a good sign. After all, if Arthur truly did not any merit to this impromptu plan, why would he still be walking of his own accord towards the altar?

Still, as Arthur grew closer and closer to the altar prepared for the handfasting, his eyes became darker with rage as Merlin winced. Yes, this would certainly be harder than it needed to be, but this had to be done to get Arthur back on the throne! Surely Arthur would understand that!

After what must have been an eternity, Arthur finally reached the altar and, ever so slowly, walked around to stand at a fidgeting Merlin's side.

As Geoffrey began yet another speech that had to be done before the handfasting took place, Merlin quietly turned to Arthur and gave him a small smile, trying to a least let Arthur know that everything was alright, that everything would turn out fine.

That little smile, it seemed, turned out to be the final straw for Arthur. Merlin wasn't even entirely sure how it happened.

One moment, he was standing next to Arthur in front of the altar, with the only sound in the room being Geoffrey's boring voice. And in the next, there was a savage war cry coming from Arthur, who was now armed with a sword, and a decent amount of screaming coming from the crowd.

It spoke volumes about Merlin's state of mind that his first thought upon seeing Arthur run at him with a blade in hand wasn't get back, dodge! but was rather that dress is tight, where on earth did he hide that sword?

However, Merlin's sense of self-preservation wasn't nearly as terrible as Gaius accused it of being, as his second thought was I should probably try to avoid getting stabbed at my own wedding.

Reluctantly, Merlin gathered his magic, ready to disarm Arthur and hold him still if need be. Arthur could stab Merlin later if he really felt like it, but Merlin needed to at least officially make Arthur his consort and heir before Arthur did that!

However, to Merlin's surprise, rather than trying to run Merlin through, Arthur instead stabbed at the wooden handfasting altar, sinking his blade deep into it. Merlin carefully kept his eyes on Arthur as the other man viciously pulled off one of the dainty lace gloves and threw it on the ground at Merlin's feet.

Dumbfounded, Merlin stared at the thrown glove on the floor and then looked back up to stare at Arthur, not quite getting what Arthur was trying to tell him here. Did he just really hate the outfit? Or was it this whole marriage plan that he objected to?

"Pick it up."

"Huh?"

Arthur nearly started growling, his rage apparently rising with Merlin's confusion.

"It may not be a proper gauntlet, since you have denied me such a dignity, but it will suffice for this. Pick it up, King Emrys. I challenge you to a duel in single combat for the throne of Camelot. You may have defeated my sister, but you did not defeat me! I am no prize for you to claim!"

Merlin simply blinked, completely thrown off by this turn of events, while loud shouts started erupting from the crowd. By the time his mind caught up to what Arthur had said, Arthur had taken up his sword from where he had struck it into the altar and was pointing it threateningly at Merlin again.

As Merlin's shock wore off and he finally understood what exactly Arthur had just done, he had to fight back the urge to scream into the sky with frustration as yet another one of his plans to reinstate Arthur as king had just been ruined by the obstinate clotpole himself. Couldn't the prat just let Merlin help?!

With his frustration rising, Merlin glared down at the thrown glove. While a duel would certainly allow Arthur to retake the throne, Merlin wasn't entirely sure how his magic would react to such a fight. Merlin would never consciously hurt Arthur of course, but who knows if his magic would strike out in self-defense?!

And, besides, formally accepting and preparing the duel would take days. And, in Merlin's opinion, this whole farce has gone on for long enough.

"No. I will not accept your challenge."

Arthur's face went red with anger at Merlin's refusal.

"You are just as much of a coward as the rest of your kind, sorcerer! You would not even grant me the opportunity to take back what's mine!"

Merlin bit back a frustrated scream at that. Arthur would be getting his throne back if he just followed through with any of Merlin's plans instead of ruining threm!

Merlin took a deep breath and sighed on the exhale, trying the rein in his own anger. He just needed to go through with this ceremony, and then everything would be fine.

With a quick flash of gold in his eyes, which had Arthur flinching back (and didn't that just sting?), Merlin turned Arthur's blade into dust had Arthur's glove fly back onto his hand, setting everything right as it had been before Arthur had pulled out a sword and all hell had broken loose.

"That's enough! I've been trying to restore you to your rightful position as king this entire time, and yet you push back at every opportunity! I am not about to let you sabotage your own destiny! So, here's what's going to happen!"

Distantly, Merlin heard the wind outside whipping around, like his own frustration and stirred nature itself into a frenzy.

"You are going to stand here, complete this ceremony, be named my heir, and then retake your throne when I abdicate! Are we clear?"

Arthur, who still looked rather shaken at Merlin's display of magic, scowled, but still nodded his head. Merlin, satisfied by this, turned back around to face the shocked crowd.

"And do I make myself clear to all of you?! There will be no more interruptions of this ceremony, and Arthur will take back his throne!"

The frightened crowd went silent at Merlin's outburst, seemingly relenting to Merlin's demands.

Merlin then turned to Geoffrey, who was still standing in front of the handfasting altar with the rope in his hands.

"Now, Geoffrey, I would greatly appreciate it if you would get a move on here. I don't want to wear this stupid crown for any longer than I have to."

The only indication that Geoffrey gave that he was surprised by Merlin's outburst was a mere uptake of his eyebrows, rather reminiscent of Gaius's signature look. Without further ado, Geoffrey tied Merlin and Arthur's hands together, declaring them to be now married in the eyes of the gods of the Old Religion.

(Merlin tried to ignore the hurt and longing that built up in his heart in that moment. How many times had he dreamed of something like this? But he never wanted it to happen like this. This was Merlin's dream come true, but it was all wrong. In that moment, Merlin didn't dare look at Arthur, too afraid of what his dearest friend thought about this grievous overstep of boundaries.)

Immediately after Geoffrey untied the handfasting knot, Arthur's coronation as consort began. The ceremony itself went smoothly, but Merlin's heart broke both at the sight of Arthur kneeling before him, waiting to be crowned, and at the furious glare Arthur gave him as he gently put the consort's crown upon Arthur's head, officially naming Arthur as his heir.

As soon as Arthur stood from where he was kneeling, applause broke out from the crowd. Someone (Merlin heavily suspected Gwaine) started a chant of "long live the kings!", which caught on quickly. Merlin winced again at the chant, not daring to turn and look at Arthur's face.

Still, Merlin reminded himself as he took a deep, calming breath, everything was coming along. Arthur was now officially his consort and heir, and all that was left to do... was the copious amounts of paperwork finalizing his abdication.

Yeah, no. Merlin wasn't going through that process when he could just take care of it here and now.

"Citizens of Camelot, on this most joyous day, I, King Emrys, abdicate the throne!"

Even though he had made his intentions clear only a few minutes earlier, shocked whispers flew around the crowd, like they hadn't truly believed that he would go through with it.

Merlin couldn't help the grin that was forming on his face. Finally, everything would be set right again!

"I am no longer your king, and as per the laws of the kingdom, the throne now rightfully belongs to your true king, Arthur Pendragon!"

With that, Merlin reached up and yanked the crown off of his own head, marched over to a dumbfounded Arthur and, without any hesitation, replaced the consort's crown on Arthur's head with the true crown.

"There, that's much better," Merlin whispered to himself as he gazed upon Arthur, finally looking like himself again, but he was certain that Arthur must have heard it too, as Arthur's eyes went wide at his words.

But that was a conversation for another day, as Merlin was now done here. This entire calamity was over, and now Merlin was going to savor its end.

Merlin turned back to face the crowd once more with an undoubtedly crazed grin.

"Goodnight everyone! Be sure to obey your true king! In the meanwhile, I'm off to bed for my first full night's rest since this nightmare started!"

And with that, Merlin merrily skipped out of the great hall, made his way to his cramped room in Gaius's chambers, and slept soundly.

Bonus Scene!

THE NEXT DAY:

Arthur: Busts into Merlin's room

Merlin, unwillingly woken up from the best sleep he's gotten in years: Ugh, what do you want you prat?! You're king again, aren't you?! Don't you have kingly duty to be attending to?

Arthur: Merlin you idiot, you abdicated the throne.

Merlin: Yes, and now you're king again. You're welcome!

Arthur: But you never dissolved our union!

Merlin: Huh?

Arthur: A divorce can only be granted by the same ruler who authorized the marriage! You know what this means, right?!

Merlin: Yeah, that you can just declare us to be not married anymore and we can all be on our way.

Arthur: No, YOU were the ruler who authorized the marriage, and now that you've abdicated, you can't dissolve the marriage! Legally, no one can!

Merlin, turning pale: What?

Arthur, looking weary: Yes, apparently it's some legal technicality that Geoffrey cited from Bruta's code. I've spent all morning arguing with him, but there seems to be no way around it.

Merlin: So... what you're saying is that we're stuck being married to each other.

Arthur: Yes, you buffoon, that's exactly what I'm saying! Now, get up!

Merlin, feeling incredibly guilty over this entire situation: Arthur, I'm so sorry, I take full responsibility for this, I never should have forced you into-

Arthur, cutting him off: Let's go. We don't have much time before the rest of the castle is up and about, and I'd rather us not be seen here.

Merlin, confused but complying: Arthur, where are we going? Why don't you want us to be seen here?

Arthur, blushing: It would reflect poorly on the king if word got out that he let his consort sleep in this dirty broom closet on their wedding night, wouldn't it?

Merlin, blushing: Ah, I suppose it would.

And that's a wrap for this au for now! I hope you've all enjoyed this story!

A huge thank you for everyone who asked for this continuation! (and holy cow there were a lot of you!! Thank you all so much!)

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@merthurogies @justaz

And, as always, thank you all for reading through my ramblings! :D

I'll see you all next time!

[raitonsfw]

𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜 | 𝚎𝚍𝚘𝚐𝚊𝚠𝚊 𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚙𝚘 ꨄ

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: Ranpo wasn’t supposed to raid the ADA’s lockers for snacks, but he does anyway. When he opens your locker and spots an enclosed box of Valentine's Day chocolate, he immediately snatched it. Of course, why would he bother to read the ingredients? Cocoa butter, milk, sugar, an aphrodisiac supplement... What could go wrong? Obviously everything; you didn’t know Ranpo was such a whiny bitch when he was horny.

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, fem!reader, horny!ranpo, slight switch!ranpo (subby then dom), accidental aphrodisiac/drug usage, banter, begging, whining & whimpering, humiliation (ranpo has to ask reader to help him), masturbation, blowjob, ranpo’s a fucking head pusher, teasing, fingering (if you squint), implied sexual intercourse, pet names (good girl), he’s like a dog in heat frfr (or rut, whatever floats your boat), ranpo’s a bit manipulative at the very end, reader works at the ADA, reader has a crush on ranpo & kinda simps for him silently, dazai mention (typical suicide mention & he’s the idiot that started this shit lol)

a/n: hello helloo, my queue posted early but imma keep it up anyways. my lil valentine’s day event starts now (albeit early), with ranpo edogawa leading it with some sexy v-day drug consumption! my first valentine to you until thursday, feb 1st! 💌 wc: 3k. v-day m.list | m.list

divider credit: @hitobaby & @firefly-graphics

“Ranpo, what are you eating?” This was a common phrase that the Armed Detective Agency yelled, much like when you yell at a puppy when they have something in their mouth that they’re not supposed to have. Ranpo’s cheeks poked out slightly as he turned towards you, his head tilting in confusion. He was sitting on top of one of the desks, lounging about like normal but with something noticeably different in his hands; instead of the usual candy he munched on, it was a tiny red hearted box of… chocolate?

You had already started walking towards him with a bit of a rush calculated into your step, eyeing the familiar box of chocolates that were abandoned now on his lap as he leaned back. He popped another piece of chocolate into his mouth as you recognized the wretched package. He had stolen your aphrodisiac chocolate Dazai had jokingly gifted you for Valentine’s Day. “Ranpo!”

“What? You shouldn’t leave chocolate lying around when I’m here.” He said in a matter of factly tone, reaching for another one. You grabbed his wrist quickly to prevent him from eating another, throwing the near empty box in the trash. “What’d you do that for?!”

“Ranpo, those weren’t yours! And they weren’t lying around, they were in my locker!” You pulled him off of the desk by his hand and he stumbled into you slightly as he gained his footing on the floor. “You didn’t even look at the ingredients.”

“You didn’t have to trash ‘em!” He pouted at you, looking back at the trash can with an overexaggerated whine. “Why would I have to look at the ingredients? It’s chocolate.” 

“Because– they were drugged.” You barged into the restroom with him, making sure it was unoccupied. You left him in the middle to wander and he immediately took a seat on the long counter adorned with sinks. The lengthy mirror stared towards the back of him and you could see out of the corner of your eye that he was swinging his feet as you locked the door. 

“Drugged? Drugged with what?” Ranpo asked, a bit too calm. It’s like this has happened and he’s not very surprised. You’ll ask about that later, right now your main priority was getting him water and a nice place to sweat it out for the next few hours– or day considering he ate almost the entire box.

“Aphrodisiacs.” 

“Isn’t that the drug that like… stimulates you?” Ranpo interrupted your thoughts, stretching his arms out with a yawn. How was this man tired in such a constrained situation? “I don’t feel anything.” 

Maybe you should go back and read the amount that’s housed in each chocolate, you could figure out the percentage exactly and then you'd be able to gauge just how much time he would need alone. If you could get him out of the door towards his dorm, of course; that was another issue as you don’t know how fast he consumed the hearts.

“Oh trust me, you will.” You huffed out, mentally checking off everything you needed to do in order to get him out of the office. You needed to collect your paperwork so you could do it while making sure Ranpo didn’t keel over from the dosage and acquire a water bottle in case it's too late to get him to the dorms. “I’m going to get you water, stay right here okay?” 

“Sure, bring me some more snacks while you’re at it.” He leaned back against the mirror with his hands tucked behind his head, crossing his leg over the other with a sly wink at you; perhaps the only time you’d see his green eyes bright before they darkened like a storm. “Don’t keep me waiting long.” 

Fucking idiot.

As you scampered about trying to find a water bottle for Ranpo, you gathered up your belongings and wrapped your head around the situation. You were going to thoroughly kill Dazai if he hasn’t done so already himself, the thought of poisoning your coworker with a shit ton of sexual stimulants weighing heavily on your mind. You knew Ranpo most likely wouldn’t care who you got it from or why you even had it, he would probably brush it off as some weird shit you’re into. Realization suddenly hit you like a million bricks; you didn’t know him sexually, so you had no idea how exactly the aphrodisiacs would affect him.

You were close with Ranpo, but not on this level. 

You also had a slight crush on him ever since you started working with him; he had bothered you for treats on the very first day as you sat down in your office chair. You haven’t even had the chance to set up your desk, trinkets filling the box in your arms as he wheeled over in his chair to you. You liked his personality and gave him a small piece of candy you had stashed in your pocket, which was the worst mistake of your life because now he toyed with you every chance he got; whether you had snacks, candy, or a sweet drink in your hand, it was a ‘can i have some?’ 

“Ranpo?” You knocked on the bathroom door as you returned from the depths of the office, relieved to hear quiet shuffling about the tiny room.

Your relief turned to dread though when you heard his voice answer you back in a tiny whimper. “D-Don’t come in.” 

Oh, you were too late…

“I have water for you.” You said through the door, trying to bask around the uncomfortable situation that’s handed itself to you. Of course it would hit him while you were trying to find things that could help him get through it; why couldn’t the drug have waited a few more minutes?

Ranpo didn’t answer and your mind wandered, what if that dosage was lethal? Dazai would have yet another crime on his fruitful list that he so explicitly told you about, but now you’re an accomplice because the twisted chocolates were in your fucking locker. You tried to open the door, but he had locked it behind you when you had left. You could hear faint breathing on the other side, but it was too hard to make out if he was saying anything. 

“Y/N…” Ranpo managed to speak up after a few moments, quiet desperation overtaking his voice. “Why’d you have that type of chocolate in your locker anyway?” 

Oh, so he does care. It must be serious then. You hung your head against the door, a quiet sigh escaping your lips as you contemplated whether to tell him why or not. 

“Here, let me in. I can help.” You offered, gathering up the things in your hands a bit more neatly as you tried to get him to open the door. You didn’t have a choice but to stay there with him and your paperwork was sitting stale in your hands, the time ticking away and your deadlines getting closer.

“Help with what? I-I got it under control.” Ranpo stammered at the idea and you realize it sounded like you meant something else.

“Not that. I have snacks, you idiot.” 

He opened the door a few seconds after, his cape had been pulled around him towards the front of his lap and he briskly walked back to where he was sitting on the sink’s counter. You could already see the hardened bulge of his cock within the mess of the fabric that covered it and his face had become increasingly red with a blush you’ve never seen on him before. His legs were pried open on the counter and he looked so so desperate, even as he tried not to show it, he failed miserably through the small pants that huffed out of him through every syllable he managed out.

You set the snacks near him on the counter, taking in the sight of his flushed skin peeking out from underneath his clothing. He glanced towards you and your eyes immediately met the mirror in front of you, a blush creeping up on your own face. “Do you want me to stay here with you?” 

“C-Can you sit outside the door and make sure no one comes in?” Ranpo stuttered, looking away from you as he squirmed against the counter. You felt the sudden rush of heat between your legs and you tried not to stumble in front of him as you walked back towards the door. God, what a dream it would be for him to ask for your help but you knew he didn’t like you like that; he would’ve shown interest by now or have been begging on his knees for you to touch him. What a sight that would’ve been…

As you sat amongst the door in the middle of the hallway, you didn’t hear him eating his snacks which was dreadfully odd. He didn’t talk to you through the door either, the man was quiet for once; not a word spoken since you left the bathroom. It must’ve hit him really hard and all you could think about is what if he actually touched himself? What if he was pumping his cock to the thought of who knows who right now, behind the thin door that separated you too? 

You so wished you could hear the potent whimpers that slipped from his mouth as he sucked his tie between his teeth, careful to not let you hear the wretched sounds. The way that his chest would rise with heavy breaths as he went ahead and pleasured himself to get rid of the ache, the strain of his cock from those damned aphrodisiacs he was so unfortunate enough to eat. You could barely sit straight, the door awfully cold against your back as the heat emanated from you, pleading for you to touch yourself with him.

You heard one of the stall doors in the bathroom slam shut or maybe open, you didn’t know but it spooked you out of the dirty thoughts that crossed your mind. Of course you would stray off track as you sat there, thinking about your coworker– your fucking coworker. Christ, get a grip.

“Please, please, please help me Y/N.” Ranpo called out and your heart skipped a beat, taking back everything you just preached to yourself. “I can’t take it anymore, I don’t know what to do.” 

“Help you? You must be out of your mind.” You mocked back, but in reality all you’ve been thinking about was that mental image engraved in your head; he must be dripping precum by now and you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together to keep your slick from pooling into the middle of your panties.

“Come here, please Y/N...” He whined out, a quiet moan bouncing off the walls of the bathroom and you’ve never moved so fast in your life. It felt like you yourself had eaten one of the aphrodisiacs, how fucking needy you were for him now just because he asked for you, no– whined for you.

You opened the door, your eyes meeting the empty spot of where he was previously sitting. Then you noticed the last stall’s door open and you rounded the corner to peek inside. When you did so, you did not expect to see Ranpo fisting his cock over, his back leaning against the wall of the stall with his knees nearly buckling underneath him. 

“This is so fucking embarrassing…” Ranpo muttered out as he noticed your presence, but his hand didn’t stop pumping his cock and he let out a quiet whimper. “Y/N, help me? Shit, please–”

“Are you su–” You started to say but you were cut off by some more of his obnoxious rambling, albeit it was slightly hot as his voice knocked up a higher pitch with desperation seeping through.

“Yes, please– fuck, I just need someone to–” Ranpo gasped out, his head nearly slamming back against the wall as he bucked up into his hand. White spurts of cum painted the floor as he came (probably again), his face screwed up in pleasure with a lengthy moan. “Ah–! I need you.”

He needed you… What did you do to deserve this? Not that you were complaining, everything went according to fate in your eyes as you realized he entrusted you to take care of him during this uncomfortable situation. 

“I’m not going to get on my knees inside this tiny stall, go sit back on the counter.” You said in an even tone, trying your best to not lose your cool. You followed behind him as he hopped onto the sink, his cock still leaking with more precum as it stood proudly against the pudge of his clothed tummy.

On top of admiring that, you finally noticed his outfit; or the lack of it anyway. Ranpo’s black vest was nowhere to be seen, his light tie had come undone, and the top buttons of his white collared shirt were ripped from their threads, some hanging off loosely. He looked absolutely mangled, sweat gleaming on every inch of his skin and you knew you’d both probably never talk about this again– best to enjoy it for the time being.

“Shouldn’t have eaten those chocolates, huh?” You tutted, pushing his legs open a bit more so you fit snugly in between them. You crouched down with your knees closed, eye level with his cock and you nearly choked when you saw it twitch.

“S-Shut up and help me.” Ranpo whined out and you silently grabbed at his cock, running your hand up it. He openly groaned at the sensation, thrusting up into your hand with defeated relief. His head had tipped back, his hat nearly slipping off and you took the courtesy to reach up and place it on the counter. 

“Want me to suck it?” You looked at him through your eyelashes, teasing him lightly as your breath fanned over his cock. “Or you wanna fuck me?” 

“Both… God, please Y/N, put your mouth on it already…” One of Ranpo’s hands threaded into your hair and pushed you towards his cock and you immediately shut up, taking him into the warmth of your mouth. He was bitter and slick against your tongue, the precum dissolving against it as you lapped at it. A heady moan escaped him as you swallowed him down, his thighs trembling underneath your palm and you felt his fingers grip your hair. 

“Feels so good, shit, please keep going–” Ranpo groaned, his eyes slinking down to where your mouth hollowed out around him and he couldn’t help but push you down a bit and you gagged around him– he was thick and it was hard to breathe as he started to thrust up shallowly into your wet mouth. You braced yourself on both of his thighs now, letting him fuck up into your mouth and with watery eyes, you glanced up at him again. 

Ranpo’s entire body was on fire as you complied to his thrusts, your throat slack for his cock and he couldn’t help it– as he saw one of your hands start to unbutton the top of your dress pants and disappear into the lace of your panties, his hips jutted still and he came instantly into your mouth without a warning. 

“Fuck, atta girl…” He drew out in a long moan as he watched you swallow everything he had to give, pleasure shooting through him and his vision went a little hazy as you pulled off of him with a wet slurp. Ranpo’s eyes were still glassy with lust when he opened them, the aphrodisiac wearing down slightly but not by much. As he caught his breath, he wiped the excess that dribbled out of your mouth when you swallowed, his fingers caressing the side of your cheek. “Should’ve asked for your help sooner…”

“You came so fast…” Your voice was raw and you coughed a bit afterwards, a quiet chuckle answering you.

“Thanks to the sexy chocolate you had on hand.” Ranpo mentioned with a smirk and you pressed down on his thighs as you stood up, your legs nearly giving out from the position you were in. You fell against him, his hands coming to catch you by your waist and you realized you were close to his face now. He looked considerably better, he wasn’t nearly panting as hard now but there was still a prominent flush to his cheeks. 

“Which you shouldn’t of fucking eaten in the first place.” You retorted, pouting at him with puffed out cheeks and he laughed, his hands dragging down to the plump of your ass. You let out a surprised sound as he squeezed gently, looking you dead in the eyes still.

“Oh, boo hoo. Look where it got you.” He teased, his fingers hooking through the loops of your dress pants. “Aren’t you happy you finally got your hands on me?” 

Ranpo pulled them down in one swift motion and you blushed profusely, looking away from him quickly as his fingers swiped through the mess of your cunt. He grabbed you curtly by your chin, making you look at him again and you shook with pleasure as one of his fingers curled up into you. You moaned around your words as they spilled out of your mouth in a rushed tone. “W-What are you talking about? Ranpo…” 

“It doesn’t take my deduction skills to know you like me~ Now, why don’t you ride me like a good girl? You’d like that, huh?” He breathed out against your lips as he pressed them against yours, slipping his tongue inside swiftly whilst adding another finger to the swell of your cunt and earning a wanton moan from you.

Ranpo’s other hand made you grip his cock again, which was still rock hard against the soft cotton of his shirt. His bigger hand practically covered yours in one fell swoop as he made you start to pump him again, quiet whimpering falling against the frame of your lips. “It’s your fault, y’know… you should take care of me.”

This was going to be a long work day.

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

[moonpascal]

VOODOO DOLL II T.N

summary: theo can’t get you out of his head. which could only mean you put a spell on him. or loosely based on a song

warnings: mean theo, language, hurt/comfort l WC 3.4k

authors note: fourth time trying to post this so let’s see how that goes

“She’s not going to magically appear if you keep staring at her table,” Mattheo muttered, irritation clear in his tone. Theo scoffed but kept his gaze fixed on the empty spot at the Gryffindor table.

Theo couldn’t stand you. That’s what he told anyone who would listen—you were too nice, too annoying, and every little thing you did got on his nerves.

The way you helped anyone in need, no matter if they treated you unfairly in the past. How you smiled at everyone and everything. Always in a good mood, when Theo couldn’t fathom why.

“Good morning, guys! Did you finish the Arithmancy homework from yesterday?” Your cheerful voice cut through his thoughts, nearly making him jump. Speak of the devil, he thought bitterly.

Theo rolled his eyes at your question. “Forgot again, or just getting lazier?” he sneered.

But your smile didn’t waver; if anything, it grew brighter. “Actually, I just need help with sections 6 and 8. I stayed up all night and still couldn’t figure them out!”

He couldn’t understand why you always talked to them—why you always acted so friendly with the rivals of your house. Maybe that was another reason he couldn’t stand you; it felt like you were deliberately trying to get under their skin.

“Sucks to be—” Mattheo began, but Theo jabbed his elbow into his side, cutting him off with a sharp look.

“Just here, take my paper,” he grumbled, pulling out his parchment and thrusting it toward you. Your fingers brushed his briefly, and Theo jerked his hand back as a tingling sensation shot through him.

“Thanks, Theodore!” you beamed, practically skipping back to your table, which only irritated Theo more.

“What the hell was that?” Mattheo demanded.

“Fuck if I know. I couldn’t stop myself,” Theo muttered. “I wanted to tell her to piss off and figure it out on her own.” He scowled, shoving his food away, his appetite suddenly gone.

“Maybe she’s got you under some spell, Nott,” Draco chuckled. “Drink anything suspicious lately?”

“Shut up, Malfoy,” Theo snapped, the idea unsettling him. The thought of you having that kind of influence over him was ridiculous.

He could still feel the ghost of your touch, as if you were still caressing his hand, even though you were now back at your table, tongue out in concentration as you scribbled down the answers.

“Don’t get why she didn’t just ask Granger for help,” Lorenzo chimed in, mouth full of food.

“Because Hermione wouldn’t just give her the answers. She’d explain it step by step—which she doesn’t have time for—since it’s her next class,” Theo replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

The boys exchanged knowing smirks. “And how exactly do you know that?” Blaise teased.

Theo realized how that sounded, but before he could defend himself, you reappeared to hand him his paper back.

“You’re a lifesaver, Theodore! I owe you one,” you said, squeezing his bicep in appreciation before heading off to class early as ever.

“Yeah, whatever,” Theo muttered, trying to ignore the lingering warmth of your touch, the burning sensation in his chest, and the rapid beat of his heart whenever you were near.

Once you were out of sight, his heart began to slow, but a different ache settled in. It was almost like he missed you—which was ridiculous. He shook the thought from his mind immediately.

Maybe someone did slip him something; whether it was a prank or an accidental slip-up, he had to get rid of it, and fast.

———

Days passed, and Theo only felt worse. He constantly thought you were nearby, even when he knew you were in a different class on the other side of the school. Your touch was ingrained in his mind, as if he could still feel you. Some days, it felt like you were right next to him, invading his personal space, only for him to see you across the field, chatting with your friends.

His friends were no help when he mentioned it. They just teased him endlessly on having a crush on a Gryffindor, which he quickly shot down.

You were an annoyance. Someone who bugged the hell out of him, and that was it—nothing more.

To make matters worse, you both got paired up in Muggle Studies. A class he took just to piss off his dad was now backfiring spectacularly.

The assignment was to write an essay about what Muggles believed to be ‘witchcraft,’ which seemed simple enough—if only he didn’t have to work with you.

“Okay so I was thinking of voodoo dolls, because I think others are gonna pick psychics or magicians,” you started, flipping through some pages of your textbook, “and I think we could get extra points if we somehow have a physical doll!”

He could feel your excitement radiating off of you and it was nauseating but he nodded and agreed. You went on and said you would send an owl to your mother to see if she could buy one from the shops in your hometown.

Theo barely paid attention as you rambled on about your plans for the essay. The way you spoke with so much enthusiasm, your eyes bright with excitement—it was almost unbearable. Not because it annoyed him, but because it made his chest tighten in a way he wasn’t ready to confront.

“Do you even care about this project?” you asked suddenly, snapping him out of his thoughts. You were watching him with a hint of concern in your eyes, which only made him feel more unsettled.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I care about passing,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze. “But I don’t see why you’re so invested in it.”

You shrugged, the usual brightness in your expression dimming a little. “I just think it’s interesting, that’s all. And maybe…” You hesitated, then added, “I thought it’d be nice to work with you.”

Theo blinked, caught off guard by your honesty. His initial reaction was to snap back with a sarcastic comment, to push you away as he always did. But something stopped him.

“Why?” The question slipped out before he could stop himself.

You looked down, fiddling with your quill. “I don’t know. You’re different from most people, Theodore. You’re not afraid to be yourself, even if that means being a little rough around the edges.”

He stared at you, stunned into silence. Was that how you saw him? And why did it make his heart skip a beat? He could feel his defenses cracking, the walls he’d built so carefully starting to crumble.

“Anyway,” you said quickly, as if embarrassed by your admission, “I’ll let you know if my mom finds a voodoo doll. We can meet up later to go over the details?”

“Yeah… sure,” he replied, his voice sounding far away. He watched as you gathered your things, flashing him another bright smile before leaving the classroom.

Once you were gone, Theo let out a frustrated groan, slumping back in his chair. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d never let anyone get under his skin like this before. Yet, with you, it was like he had no control over his own emotions. There was something wrong with him.

The thought of you saying he was “different” kept replaying in his mind. It wasn’t an insult, but it wasn’t exactly comforting either. He hated the idea that you could have this effect on him.

As the days went on, he found himself increasingly distracted by you. The way you laughed with your friends, the way you focused on your studies, the way you went out of your way to be kind to everyone—even to him, despite how he treated you.

The next time you met to work on the project, Theo couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering to your hands as you gestured animatedly, explaining some new idea you had. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have those hands touch him again—whether by accident or design.

When you handed him a book, he purposely brushed his fingers against yours and once more, he felt that now-familiar jolt of electricity. But this time, he didn’t pull away. Instead, he let the contact linger for just a moment longer, savoring the warmth that spread through him.

But as soon as the moment passed, he cursed himself silently. He couldn’t let this happen. You were a Gryffindor, and you represented everything he claimed to hate—yet, here he was, drawn to you like a moth to a flame.

“Is something wrong?” you asked, noticing his distant expression.

“No,” he said quickly, forcing a smirk. “Just thinking about how ridiculous this project is. Muggles and their superstitions.”

You laughed, and the sound sent another pang through his chest. “It is pretty silly, isn’t it? But it’s kind of fascinating too, don’t you think?”

Theo shrugged, playing it cool. “Sure, if you’re into that sort of thing.”

“I am,” you said with a grin. “But maybe by the end of this, you will be too.”

He rolled his eyes, but there was no real malice behind it. “Don’t count on it.”

As you continued working, Theo found himself glancing at you more often, watching the way your lips moved as you spoke, the way your eyes lit up when you got excited about something.

After the study session, Theo left with an unfamiliar smile tugging at his lips, lost in thoughts of you. He was so preoccupied that he didn’t notice Mattheo approaching from behind in the hallway.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Mattheo said, his voice laced with curiosity. “What’s with the grin? Did you win a fight?”

Theo scoffed, quickly wiping the smile from his face and replacing it with his usual scowl. “Salazar’s sake, no, I wasn’t in a fight.”

“Then why are you so happy? Snog someone? Wait—don’t tell me, did you snog Bug?” Mattheo teased, his tone dripping with mockery, fully aware of how much Theo loathed that nickname recently.

“Stop calling her that,” Theo snapped, shaking Mattheo’s arm off and feeling his good mood souring by the second.

“Oh, since when do you come to her defense? Especially when you’re the one who started calling her that,” Mattheo retorted, raising an eyebrow. The nickname had been an impulsive jab, something Theo came up with in a moment of annoyance. Now, it felt like a cruel joke.

Ignoring Mattheo, Theo continued down the hallway toward the Slytherin dorms, determined to work on his portion of the essay. But Mattheo wasn’t ready to let it go.

Once they reached the Slytherin common room, Mattheo seized the opportunity to stir the pot. “Hey, guys, doesn’t Theo seem a little… different lately?” he announced, adopting an exaggerated infomercial voice. “We barely see him, and when we do, he’s actually smiling.”

Theo halted in his tracks, irritation bubbling up inside him.

“I noticed that too,” Pansy chimed in, her tone dripping with curiosity. “He’s been sneaking off a lot.”

“Yeah, what’s the deal, Nott?” Blaise added, his voice teasing. “Too good for us now?”

Theo rolled his eyes, adjusting the stack of books you had recommended in his arms. “I’ve just been busy, you know—actually doing schoolwork.”

“Sure, and by ‘schoolwork,’ you mean hanging out with Bug,” Draco chimed in, his grin widening. “I thought you couldn’t stand her?”

“You lot are a bunch of tossers,” Theo shot back, his patience wearing thin. “Yes, I’ve been working with her because we got paired up for a project. That’s all.”

They exchanged skeptical glances, sensing there was more to the story.

“What’s the project about?” Pansy asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Theo let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s an essay on Voodoo dolls for Muggle Studies.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Mattheo’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Voodoo dolls? Are you serious, Theo? You’re supposed to be the smart one here!”

Theo frowned, confused by Mattheo’s sudden outburst. “What the hell are you on about now?”

“Voodoo dolls, you daft git!” Mattheo exclaimed, practically jumping out of his seat. “They’re Muggles’ way of trying to control people! Haven’t you been paying attention? She might have one of you—that’s probably why you’ve been acting so strange!”

Theo stared at Mattheo, a mix of annoyance and unease settling in. The idea was absurd—yet the possibility gnawed at him. Was that really what was happening? It would make a lot of sense.

Theo dropped everything and bolted out of the common room, his mind racing as he stormed through the castle. The further he went, the angrier he became. How could you do this to him? He thought he was finally feeling something other than disdain toward you—only to find out you were messing with his head.

As he rounded the final corner near the Gryffindor common room, he spotted you. But you weren’t alone. You were talking to another Gryffindor, laughing that same laugh you shared with him. The sight made his blood boil, his fists clenching so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

“Was messing with my head not enough for you?” Theo shouted, his voice filled with fury. “Did you need more attention, so you found another tosser to add to your list?”

You flinched at his sudden outburst but didn’t immediately turn to face him. You quietly excused yourself from the conversation with your housemate before turning to glare at Theo.

The look you gave him was like nothing he’d ever seen on your face before—cold, angry, and so unlike the usual warmth you radiated. It unnerved him to be on the receiving end of such a glare.

“Can I help you, Nott?” you asked, your voice eerily calm. If Theo had been less blinded by his own anger, he might have noticed the tension in your jaw and the way your fists clenched at your sides.

“Yes, you can start by telling me what the hell you did to me!” Theo took a step closer, looming over you in an attempt to intimidate, but you stood your ground, unfazed.

“I haven’t done anything—”

“Don’t lie to me!” Theo interrupted, his hands gripping your shoulders as if shaking you might jog your memory. “You came up with that stupid voodoo doll project, and ever since then, you’ve been in my head day in and day out! So don’t act like you don’t know what’s going on!”

You shoved him off you, your scoff laced with disbelief and hurt. “You’re so full of yourself, Nott. Do you really think I’d waste my time controlling you? What kind of person do you think I am? Do you honestly believe I’m that desperate for attention?”

Tears of frustration welled up in your eyes, but you fought to keep them at bay. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much his accusation hurt. “Fuck you, Nott. Maybe you should take a hard look at yourself instead of blaming me for the fact that you’re finally feeling something—anything—other than that cold, emotionless shell you’ve built around yourself.”

Theo stood there, speechless, as you turned and disappeared behind the Fat Lady’s portrait. Every word you said hit him like a punch to the gut. He knew you were right—he’d been pushing people away for so long that he didn’t know how to deal with real emotions. But hearing it from you, someone he had started to care about, hurt more than he could admit. He knew he owed you an apology, but he had no idea where to start.

The walk back to the Slytherin common room was humiliating. When he entered, his friends were in the same spots, waiting with anticipation.

“Well?” Mattheo asked impatiently, a smug grin on his face like he knew he was right all along.

“You lot are absolute wankers,” Theo muttered, snatching up the books he had dropped earlier without sparing them a second glance. He stormed up to his dorm room, ignoring their confused looks.

He had to find a way to make things right with you. The ache in his chest wasn’t just the usual discomfort he felt around you—it was something deeper, something he couldn’t ignore.

———

Theo spent the entire night poring over the books you had lent him. As he read, he realized Mattheo’s theory was complete nonsense. None of the feelings he had for you had anything to do with “voodoo” or any other magical influence. They were real, and they terrified him.

Determined to fix the mess he had made, Theo stayed up to finish the entire essay by himself, lightening your workload. He even turned it in first thing in the morning, two days before the assignment was due.

He spent the rest of the day trying to find you to let you know you didn’t have to worry about the project and to apologize, but you were nowhere to be found. He searched the Great Hall, the library, and even, with great reluctance, asked Potter if he had seen you. No luck.

By the time dinner rolled around, Theo was too distracted to eat. His fork aimlessly pushed food around his plate while his head rested on his palm. Enzo jabbed him in the side, snapping him out of his daze. Theo shot him a glare but followed Enzo’s gaze to see you walking past their table without so much as a glance in their direction. When you sat down at your table, your eyes instinctively met Theo’s, and for a brief moment, he thought he saw a flicker of something softer. He offered a small smile, but you rolled your eyes and turned back to your friends.

“Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her anything but cheerful. She must be pissed that we figured her out, huh?” Enzo commented, eliciting a few laughs from the group.

Theo’s fork clattered onto his plate, the loud noise silencing them immediately. They had seen Theo angry before, but never like this, never directed at them.

“Do you ever think about anyone other than yourselves?” Theo snapped. “She didn’t do anything wrong. What’s wrong is that I listened to you lot and screwed everything up.”

He abruptly stood and made his way over to you. You furrowed your brows in confusion, aware that Slytherins didn’t usually venture to the Gryffindor side of the Great Hall. The hushed whispers that followed Theo didn’t faze him; he only cared about setting things right.

He leaned down and whispered in your ear, asking you to follow him. Despite your better judgment, curiosity got the better of you, and you found yourself following him out of the Great Hall.

Theo led you to a secluded hallway, casting a quick Muffliato charm to ensure privacy. He took a shaky breath, closing his eyes for a moment before finally speaking.

“I’m sorry,” he began, his voice heavy with regret. “I was an absolute tosser. You were right—I’ve never felt anything like this before, and it scared me. I tried to find every excuse to deny it, and in the process, I lashed out at you. I shouldn’t have accused you of something so ridiculous.”

You stared at him, your silence unnerving him. He continued, desperation creeping into his tone. “I know there’s no excuse for what I said, and I understand if you want nothing to do with me anymore. But if there’s any chance, I’d like to start over. I’ll do anything to make it right.”

Maybe it was because you had started liking Theo too, or maybe it was the sincerity in his apology, but it wasn’t hard to forgive him.

“Although getting accused wasn’t ideal and did hurt, I accept your apology, Theodore,” you said, offering him a small smile—the smile he didn’t realize how much he’d missed until now.

Theo’s heart lifted at your words. “If I’m not pushing my luck… could I take you to Hogsmeade this weekend?”

Theo held his breath, anxiously awaiting your response. You hesitated for a moment, the silence stretching between you, before finally stepping closer. With a gentle smile, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering just a second longer than necessary. As you pulled back, your eyes met his, filled with a warmth that made his heart race.

“I’d like that,” you whispered, your voice tender and genuine.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Theo felt the tight knot in his chest begin to loosen.

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