#fun fact: disappear came on as i wrote disappear

[pearlsinmyhair]

˖⋆˚₊⊹ his muse

hobie brown x fem!reader

this has been in my drafts for. forever. like it was summer when i wrote it on a whim. this initially started as a request for hobie with a reader that came from wealth. the vivienne westwood imagery picked up from there, and i just kinda had fun with it. and now im posting it- huzzah!

warnings: smoking (cigarettes). mentions of drinking. slight nsfw at the very end. meet-cute that leads to smut. hobie being a flirt. fem!reader.

hobie is in the midst of a creative rut that he can’t get out of, no matter how much he tries to. that is, until some inspiration walks through the door.

hobie was in a musical rut.

which never happened to him. never. if he needed a subject for a song, all he had to do was look outside for five minutes or watching the news for even less to have a subject.

that was the wonderful thing about hating the establishment: infinite cruelty, infinite song ideas.

but here he was, staring down at his guitar and picking at strings aimlessly. nothing came to him, no note or melody stuck out to him as song worthy.

he was sitting on the worn couch in his band’s makeshift studio, crosslegged and hunched over his guitar like a madman.

a soft knock came from the doorway, and he looked up to find one of his band mates hitting their knuckles against the doorway.

“you need to get out, man. you’re cooped up.” he said, stepping into the room to stand over hobie like a mother hen. “some fresh air will do you good.”

hobie scoffed, never one to take orders from anyone. but then he exhaled and leaned back, looking up at his friend with an exasperated expression.

“and where exactly do you intend for us to go?” he asked lowly, grumbling.

that’s exactly how he ended up here, in a music club full of bodies he didn’t want to touch and liquor he didn’t want to drink.

it wasn’t a traditional club scene by any means. It was a bit more artistic, leaning away from rave-style places that he’d gone to before. but it still wasn’t his preferred place.

he nursed a shirley temple, which his friend had shoved into his hand unceremoniously before disappearing into the crowd. hobie had decided that he would be the designated driver, and he understood that his band mates were going to take full advantage of that fact.

when they entered the place, his drummer had leaned over.

“maybe you’ll find a muse, hobes. i’m sure there’s plenty of pretty things in this place to give you ideas.” the boy wiggled his brows, and hobie promptly shoved him away with a chuckle.

now, he leaned against a counter and wondered what the hell he was doing. this wasn’t air. this was just distracting noise.

and said noise was becoming a little too much for his senses.

he made eye contact with one of his more sober mates, gesturing that he was going to go somewhere private. he sent a text to their group chat as well saying the same thing.

not a role model

-> heading to the back, text or call if you need me

little drummer boy

-> you’re no fun, man.

not a role model

-> 🖕🏿

he moved down a hallway, the sound of bass and electronic beats fading into a pleasant jazz sound that made its way through the speakers overhead.

the space behind the actual club was a kind of lounge, filled with warm ambiance and vinyl records and leather arm chairs. when his friends brought him here, he always inevitably retreated to this quieter space.

it was ironic really. the punk unable to handle crowds and noise. but this was a much different setting from his own shows, so he cut himself some slack.

he sunk into one of the armchairs in a side room, his head lolling back to look up at the ceiling. his head slightly throbbed, and he began to regret not drinking water.

he reached in his pocket to pull out a cigarette box.

he wasn’t a casual smoker, not by a long shot. it just helped to have something to drag on sometimes, something to burn his throat while he was thinking.

right as he put the cig to his lips, the door banged open and slammed shut once more, the lock sliding home.

his spider-senses told him to prepare, but when he looked up they stopped buzzing.

because a girl leaned against the wall across from him, her chest heaving and her eyes wide.

she looked afraid, scared. the way her fingers trembled alerted him to the sheer amount of adrenaline running through her veins currently.

and she hadn’t even noticed him yet. he took a moment to glance over her.

she wore a pretty little lace dress, black and short, with straps that barely cling to her shoulders. his eyes drifted down her bare legs to the black platform gogo boots on her feet, and he was impressed with the height she was balancing on. he knew from experience that those shits weren’t easy to master.

he had been a model once, and he knew enough to see that the girls clothes were expensive. like, wearing his rent expensive.

she took an anxious step, only to wobble like a baby deer, legs too long to stand properly.

maybe not so stable after all.

when she still didn’t notice him (too busy listening to the door), he opened his mouth to make himself known.

“runnin’ from something, little fawn?”

her eyes snapped to him, and she jumped slightly when she realized that someone else was in the room with her. her wide doe eyes did nothing to help disapprove the nickname. she opened and closed her mouth to speak, struggling to get the words out.

“i’m not running.”

he chuckled.

“no? do ya’ slam and lock doors at clubs often then?”

she scoffed at him, rolling her eyes. she took a step away from the door, though he could tell she was keeping track of any noise.

“i’m just…catching my breath.” she said, pulling at the necklace around her throat.

hobie’s eyes drifted down to it, surprised to find a string of pearls with an all too familiar saturn pendent.

his curiosity got the best of him. “real or fake?”

her eyes darted up to meet his, and she looked away in embarrassment as she said “real.”

he let out an impressed whistle. “that’s why you’re running.” he mumbled as the pieces clicked together.

she gave him an incredulous look, eyebrows furrowing in a way that he found adorable.

“my guess” he said as he stood from the chair, taking a step towards the girl. “is that you definitely aren’t supposed to be here. rich girl, pretty dress, innocent look. this place is practically forbidden for your like.”

her gaze hardened into a glare. “and what exactly is my like, hobie brown?”

he smirked. “you know my name.”

a statement. she deflated slightly.

“i’ve been to your shows.” she said, voice lowering. it was just enough to make him realize how close they were. he registered her body language quickly, noting how she didn’t shy away. so he didn’t either.

“interestin’, doll. does your daddy know?”

“don’t condescend me.”

he took a step back then, raising his hand in an ‘i come in peace’ gesture. “easy there. just askin.”

he went to grab a lighter to light his cigarette, reaching down into his jackets pocket. when he found nothing, he groaned softly.

a click made him look up, only to be met with the girl holding up a lighter of her own. he leaned forward to light his cigarette, and she held his gaze as the sizzling sound breiflu filled their silence.

“as you can see” she said softly. “i am not quite ‘my like’.”

he let out a puff of smoke, making sure to turn his head so that it didn’t flow into her pretty face. she coughed anyway.

he chucked. “what you doin’ with a light if you don’t smoke?”

she flipped the lighter in her hand, and it took a moment to notice that it was one of the silver heart ones that were popular.

“you like vivienne, huh?” he said, looking down at her with half lidded eyes as he took another drag.

“what can i say, i have a thing for punks.” she replied, looking up at him through her lashes.

oh, he was going to eat her.

“s’that so?” he asked, wanting to drag whatever admission she was holding in. he leaned close over her, and she stretched her neck to look right up at him. this close, he could smell whatever shampoo she used.

she was off limits. but he never really abided by rules, did he?

“what’re you runnin’ from, doll?” he asked, tapping his cigarette out as he waited for an answer.

“my father sent a body guard out to find me. i snuck out, and the man’s in the club right now.” she said, watching the way his lips curled around the cigarette.

the air kicked on, and the girl below him shivered. he shrugged off his jacket with a sigh, pulling it around her. she accepted it gratefully, practically nuzzling up against the collar.

fuck, he was a goner.

“better get you out of here, then.” he said, using the edges of his jacket to tug her closer. she smirked, allowing him to pull her against his body. “that would be great.”

he leaned down as he texted the chat, brushing his lips against the top of her ear as he typed.

not a role model

-> hey, i got someone i need to take home. anyone sober?

little drummer boy

-> the fuck are you on about, why would anyone be sober.

fresh meat

-> i am, go enjoy yourself hobes.

thank god for tyler, he thought as he pulled back the collar of his jacket to press his mouth to the girls jaw.

as she snuck him into her room later, the lyrics of a song began to write themselves in his head.

and as he thrust into her, her hands fumbling against her silk sheets and her moans in his ear, he realized that he had found his muse after all.

hobie’s masterlist

[lotus-n-l0ve]

𝐈 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

— Kyojuro Rengoku x Oiran!Reader

SYNOPSIS : Falling in love is a sin that you didn't want to commit but when he is Kyojuro Rengoku, what can you do?

WARNINGS : Historical au, prostitution, Tengen is not married, mention of sex, cursing, open ending, a little angst, 0.6k words.

LOTUS'S NOTE : I was reading a lot of Rengoku smut today and just couldn't stop myself but write this fic. The fic title is from the song 'Seven' by Jeon Jungkook. I'm so bad at writing notes. Reposting this for the seventeenth time and I am not exaggerating (⁠٥⁠↼⁠_⁠↼⁠).

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 // 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Falling in love was the worst sin you could have committed. Oirans were not allowed to fall in love, in fact they were not allowed to have any kind of feelings. They sell their body and that's their business. Having any kind of emotions other than hunger for money is an inconvenience. But you dared to commit the painful crime. You fell in love, that too with a customer and how could you not?

Between the mass of beautiful women and men, your eyes fell on a pair of blazing ones. He was easy to spot. Where everyone else was having fun, choosing who to disappear with, he looked like a lost soul there. Anyone who takes a look at him could tell that it was his first time and had no prior experience.

However the tall, white haired man beside him seemed to be a pro. How he talked to everyone, his attitude, his confidence was enough proof. The blazing eyes, as if feeling your stare, turned in your direction and fell on your sitting form. The eye contact raised a different kind of emotion in your heart. What is this feeling?

The man beside him followed his eyes' direction and saw you. With an encouraging and proud grin, the white haired man nudged him your way. And that's how it all started. "Kyojuro Rengoku" that's what he introduced himself as, with a smile that can give a competition to the sun.

As the night went deep, you escorted the man to your personal bedroom. Not to be cliche but he was different from the other men you had entertained before. One after another article of clothing came off, exposing yourself to each other.

Even if all you did was, as usual, have sex, his touch didn't make you feel dirty. He looked at you like you were the most beautiful woman to ever exist. His warm and rough hand traced every line on your body with passion while yours marked his back with scratches. His lips colour you in the most alluring colour. In the end you were so dazed that at the end you fell into slumber without any fight.

The next morning you woke up with a clean body, instead of the usual sticky one, tucked safely under the warm duvet. A note filled out with neat cursive words spelling the most beautiful words anyone had ever said. At the end he wrote, 'See you soon, till the goodbye.' beside it was a cartoon-ish drawing of a crow.

You burst out in laughter. Who writes this kind of things to an oiran? He said see you soon. Does that mean he will come again?

From that morning all you could think about was Rengoku. From the loud cheers of children outside to the orange hue of sunset, everything reminded you of him. You had entertained many customers after that day but everytime you unconsciously tried to find the Hashira in them.

He returned two weeks later, this time without that tall friend. The events repeated again. You escorted him to your room, helped each other out of the clothes and got lost in each other. This time, unlike the previous one, you were desperate to feel him against you, for him to make you feel like you are not worthless.

These events repeated again and again, and each time you were more eager to see the flame hashira. His visits were not constant. Sometimes he would come twice a week and sometimes he would disappear for months. Nights that you spent fucking turned into sharing about your days and passionate love making.

Even before you knew it you were in love. In love with the flame hashira. But it was not a luxury that you could afford. You were an oiran, a sex worker, a whore and on the other hand he was a well respected and well loved hashira, everyone's hero.

© 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐔𝐒-𝐍-𝐋𝟎𝐕𝐄 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑, 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 — all content rights belongs to LOTUS-N-L0VE. do not plagiarize any works and do not repost or translate onto any other sites.

All the rights and credits of the characters, gifs, songs and pictures used here belongs to their rightful owners.

[godlygreta]

god is fair | j. t. kiszka

title | god is fair

word count | 7.7k

warnings | swearing, mentions of alcohol - nothing too terrible... yet ;)

author's note | i've had this in the chamber for some time now, i just lost the inspo to write, which is why i haven't in a long time. this isn't a promise that i'll post more fics as they come to me, seeing as i'm a senior in college who has a fuck ton of other things to do. there will be a part 2 to this fic, but i couldn't tell you when it's coming :)

also, very much so listening to god is fair, sexy nasty by mac miller while writing this & starting the next part, so take that as you will ;)

unedited as hell so pls excuse any mistakes !

You always had this rivalry since the beginning of freshman year. This guy, Jake, would never show up to any of the classes the two of you had together, but always got the highest grades on every single goddamn exam that your Intro to Bio professor gave out. It infuriated you.

You figured that in the spring semester, you would be freed from the disappearing boy, but you weren’t. While the teacher called roll, everyone shouted out here. She landed upon his name, calling out to the class and looking through the rows of students. He had been there for orientation, sitting in one of the middle rows, slouched in his seat.

You planned to confront him the next day you had class together, on Wednesday, but Jake was nowhere to be found. Your roommate and your friends had heard your exhaustive theories as to why he was never in class. “Babe, you sound insane. Just let it go.”

But you couldn’t.

Competition lived deep within your roots, having an entire competition with the second top student in your graduating class in high school. Though the rage held between each other was never taken far outside of the academic realm, the two of you never thought to be friends and encourage one another. Thankfully, the two of you resolved the competition when the two of you realized you would be going into two very separate fields of study in college. 

Camren, who knew she was going to be a chemist from the time she first learned about chemistry, had told you she loved the competition – made it fun and kept things interesting. And there you were, going to school for Pre-Med with the same feeling. The two of you kept in contact, updating each other on the strive for greatness in college as well.

You kept a close relationship with a lot of your teachers, making sure to get on their good side before classes had really begun. You emailed most of them, especially your Anatomy and Physiology professor, Dr. Sahnya Heinz.

She was incredibly skilled in her field, leaving the active medical field to teach the new and future minds of medicine. It was a cliche line she delivered on the first day, but it encouraged that familiar competitive fire that dwelled within you.

You don’t quite remember how you came to figure out that Jake was ahead of you, but you had found out somehow from your professor, although it was an accident.

It made everything in you burn with anger and frustration. Anytime someone mentioned him, or mentioned the fact that you were second, you clenched your jaw and your teeth gritted together. Your friends had an inside joke that you were only mad because you had a huge crush on him.

“I barely even know what he looks like, Mel! I fucking hate the guy. Don’t start shit.” You’d plead, beer can in your hand in the lounge of some fraternity floor.

Over the next few semesters, you kept trying your hardest, spending most of your free time in the library, reading everything that you could to prepare for every exam. You wrote papers early, having them done at least three weeks in advance. As soon as you would be told about a new one, you’d immediately start finding sources.

You sauntered around campus, thinking that you would be way ahead of him. He still never showed up to any classes, aside from orientation and exam periods. You’d stare at him for a few moments while the teacher passed out the exam, looking over his face as much as you could.

His long hair would obscure your vision on occasion, making it hard to catch any of his features at all. From what you could see though, he had nice, full lips. His nose was something you could have stared at the entire exam period.

You watched him as he licked his lips, whispering a thank you to Heinz before grabbing his pencil from his desk and getting to work. You looked away from him as soon as Heinz put your exam on your desk, offering her a small smile and a quick thank you before getting to work.

It was almost spring break, meaning some of your assignments had been slowing, some of them had been increasing. A group of your friends from different majors told you about one of the lounge parties a fraternity on campus was throwing. “Sigma Tau has the worst lounge parties, Tamia. You know this.”

“They’re joining forces with the Delta’s though, so it’ll be better than normal! You have to come, you’ve always got your nose in a book. You haven’t drank with us in so long, I forget what you’re like when you’re drunk.”

“I don’t know… I need to work on this Midterm paper I have in Kainz’s class, it’s due next week.”

“Babe, it’s been done for weeks! You just keep editing it trying to find mistakes and there are none! I’ve literally read it five times. Please, go out with us, just tonight?”

You looked between Tamia and Mel, knowing in the end you would give into them anyways. “Ugh, fine! Tonight, and tonight only, just this once. If I don’t like it, though, I’m leaving and going to bed early.”

“You’ll have so much fun, I swear!” Mel and Tamia looked between each other, sharing expressions of excitement and happiness on their faces. You rolled your eyes, standing up from your chair.

You let them raid your closet, trying to throw something together quickly. Most of the time, Tamia and Mel never obeyed the dress code for the lounge parties, hating the idea of giving into the male gaze of the fraternity brothers. Tonight, however, was a bit different. The theme was Western, meaning it was cowboy hats and very tiny shorts.

You looked over the outfit that laid out in front of you, straw cowboy hat that Tamia had bought from Amazon (one for each of you), a pair of short shorts that may or may not show your ass a bit, and a red bandana top that Mel let you borrow last semester that you forgot to return. “I don’t know about this. I don’t even have the right shoes.”

“You forget we wear the same size, bitch, you’re going. No backing out.” They joked, tossing you a pair of white boots. “Just put that shit on while we heat up the curling iron, okay?”

“Fine, fine, okay.” You peel off your shirt, throwing on the one they picked out. Next to go were your pajama pants, which were replaced by the shorts. You kept the same socks on, knowing that nobody would see them anyways with the boots going up to the middle of your calf muscle. “I look fucking ridiculous.”

“You look fucking hot, now sit down while we do your hair and makeup,” Mel spoke, pulling out your desk chair while Tamia smiled wickedly with the curling wand in hand. You were nervous, looking at the both of them, but the good kind that settled under your skin and was left hidden behind the smallest smile.

You talked about upcoming exams with them while they did your hair and makeup, much to their dismay. They attempted to fill you in on the various drama situations going on around campus while you had been heavily plugged into your textbooks. You gasped often, finding shock and awe in some of the things they had been telling you about classmates.

They spoke about Jake, letting it slip that he had been planning on attending the party, joined at the hip with one of the girls he had been rumored to have been dating. One of the many. “Ugh, he just sounds like a douche. Gives me even more reason to hate him.”

“We’re not feeding into your delusion that he’s some douchebag. Dropping it.” Tamia spoke, putting her hands up in a surrender. Mel laughed, pulling away from you with an eyeliner pen in hand. “Maybe we’ll get you drunk enough to admit you like him.”

“I don’t like him, and I thought we were dropping the topic.” You looked at Tamia in the mirror, watching her face deadpan as she looked back at you.

“I have something hot in my hands, don’t be rude to me.” The three of you laughed, getting back into the rhythm of getting ready. You let them do their thing to you, curling the last bit of your hair and putting the finishing touches of highlighter on your brow bone.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, marveling at the job they did. You thanked them for getting you all dolled up, watching them change into their outfits. It was mostly just them taking off the sweats they were wearing, throwing them over the back of your desk chair. You took a few pictures with them in your mirror before finally deciding to head out.

The party had started a half an hour ago, walking into the party late like most people did. The three of you got in easily with matching the dress code, immediately looking for the drinks table. The boys in charge handed the three of you a free shot of anything you wanted. Mel chose for you, starting the night out roughly with a shot of Svedka.

You grabbed a Sprite from one of the boys in one hand, the shot of Svedka in the other. The three of you tapped your glasses together before downing the shot. The alcohol burned as it slipped down your throat, trying to soothe it with the taste and coolness of the Sprite. You shook a bit, throwing the cup away in a nearby trash can.

“That was fucking gross, I hate you so much for choosing Svedka.”

“I could’ve chosen something even more nasty, like Jack.” Mel laughed, leading the three of you over to a section in the lounge where you could stand a decent enough distance away from one another, instead of being piled on top of one another.

“I would have rather taken a shot of Jack, Mel.” You spoke, sipping more of your Sprite. Tamia pointed out a few of the people they had talked about earlier, letting you put names to faces.

In the midst, two of the Sigma brothers decided to start a dance battle, capturing the attention of those around them. Everyone joined in, gathering around the two guys. Mel and Tamia joined too, but you had slipped out of their grasp by telling them you had to use the bathroom.

You were happy to escape the party, sneaking out with a bottle of Smirnoff the boys had left unattended. You walked outside, taking a deep breath in. You were thankful to be met with the smell of fresh air, not smelling sweat and booze everywhere. Your peace and tranquility was ruined by someone’s voice, “Well, don’t you look adorable.”

Your head snapped towards the voice, seeing Jake sitting up against the bike rack with a cigarette between his fingers. “Shut up.”

“What? I can’t compliment you?”

“No,” you started, crossing your arms with the bottle still in your hand. “No, you can’t.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I hate you.” Jake looked at you, up and down, taking a drag of his cigarette. You screwed off the cap of the bottle, taking a pull. You tried your hardest to not make a face, looking away slightly when the familiar sting settled in your throat.

“Why do you hate me? I’ve never spoken to you before.”

“Do I have to have a reason?” You asked, walking closer to him.

“Suppose not. But if I knew why you hated me,” he tossed his cigarette butt on the ground, stomping on it with his boot. “Then maybe I could find a way to make you not hate me.”

“Unless you flunk your next exam, I guarantee that won’t happen.”

“Oh, I get it.” He chuckled, standing up from the bike rack he was leaning against. He grabbed his cigarette butt up from the ground, tossing it into the nearest garbage can. He turned towards you, staring at you with his brown eyes. “You’re just mad because I’m smarter than you.”

“You’re never in class. You shouldn’t be ahead of me.” You glared at him, lips moving into a frown.

“Just because I’m never there doesn’t mean I’m not getting the information. I work five, sometimes six days a week. We only have class three days a week. Typically, I gotta work those days. Heinz sends me the powerpoints and the assignment notes so I never miss anything.”

“Oh yeah? Where do you even work then?” You asked.

He chuckled, fingers brushing yours that were wrapped around the bottle. “Now if I told you that, it would ruin all the fun,” he looked you up and down once more, licking his lips slightly. “Well, maybe I’ll see you and your bottle inside.” 

You waited til the doors closed behind him to roll your eyes, and huff outwardly. You took the bottle of Smirnoff, turned on your heels and walked towards your dorm hall. You hated Jake. You really hated Jake.

—

Your midterms came and went. The stress decreased slightly, but only to be raised again as the end of the semester loomed around. Assignments started piling up, various papers and presentations due all around the same week. Since the end of Spring Break, you had been holed up in your room, left to your mountains of homework.

Your Microbio class had a presentation due that coincided with the research project you had been working on all semester long. Human Anatomy and Physiology (or affectionately known as BIO 312) had a major cumulative exam on the entire semester, which stressed you out more than any other homework assignment or exam you had.

Thankfully, your school held an all day event that attempted to boost the morale of the students on campus. Filled with a bunch of free things, you took advantage of everything offered.

Lined up on tables were various student organizations set up, with their own little games and prizes. A few of them had speakers that played the music they wanted to listen to, all speakers attempting to outman the other. However, the one that ended up winning was a tie dye station located in the lawn, handing out free t-shirts to dye.

One of the guys at the tie dye station had a wide smile on his face while his hands were dripping with dye. Setting your prizes down at a table where Tamia and Mel had put their things, you walked over to him. He welcomed you over with a smile, “Hey! Lookin’ to tie dye?”

“Yeah, I’m a medium.” You smiled at him, blocking the sun with your hand. He called over to Benny, asking him to pull a medium out for you. Benny handed you the shirt with a smile. “I’ve never dyed anything before.”

“Never?! That’s a crime against mankind, darlin’, let’s get this shirt dyed.” He spoke, talking you over the colors in each of the buckets. He explained to you some basic color theory, although you had remembered that from your high school painting class, you didn’t stop him; he was pretty when he spoke.

The curls on his head stuck out from the shaved sides, the gold of his earrings stood out underneath the blistering April sun. He licked his lips often, using the back of his hand to wipe sweat from his forehead. He helped you pick out the style you wanted, making sure the rubber bands were placed exactly where you wanted them. “I’ll dip them in the bucket for you so you don’t get your hands dirty.”

“Thank you. I could’ve managed on my own, but I definitely appreciate it.”

“Of course. What’s your name?” You offer up to him, before he lets out a chuckle. You question him with a pull of your eyebrows. “Jake talks about you.”

“You know Jake?”

“Yeah, he’s my twin.” As soon as the word left his mouth, you could see the resemblance; you almost scolded yourself for not realizing it sooner. They were similar, especially in their features and their eyes, although the two of them had very distinct color differences. Josh, as he told you after dropping the bomb on you, had warmer eyes, filled with caramel colored hues of brown in relation to Jake’s colder tones; his eyes were a darker shade of brown, with the occasional gleam of flirtation laced within the reflection.

He spoke quite differently from Jake, mostly just with the sound of his voice. It matched their eyes, their personalities. Josh’s bright, bubbly stature followed in his voice, almost theatrical as he spoke. “I guess that makes sense, you two do kind of look alike. Minus the hair, of course.”

“Well, of course. Mine’s better,” you liked that about him - how kind his tone was. You attempted to grill him about what Jake was saying about you, curiosity flowing violently through your bloodstream as if it lit your body on fire. “He just says that you’re second in the Bio class you have with him, and that it makes you mad.”

“It does, Jake’s never there. I’ve seen him three times, and two of those times were for exams.” Josh wrung out the part that had been soaking in the dye for a bit, watching the water fall back into the bucket.

“Yeah, it’s cause he’s working all the time, if I’m honest. Jake stays home during the week to work at the nursing home in our hometown. We don’t really have a large CNA population, most of the people who work there are highschool kids, so Jake’s really been their guy. Especially since high school, as soon as he graduated he moved to full time. All the old ladies love him.” He snorts, dipping your shirt into the blue dye.

“I didn’t know that.” You thought he was lying about where he was, which is why guilt started to eat away at you. You felt terrible for making assumptions, but you couldn’t take any of that back now.

“Jake doesn’t talk to a lot of people, but we love him anyway.” You chewed at your bottom lip, rethinking your opinion of Jake. “You goin’ to the concert later tonight?”

“Hadn’t decided. Mel and Tamia want to, so I’ll probably end up going. Are you?”

“Yeah, I think I’ll probably go.”

“Do you know who’s playing?”

“Some local band I think? I’ve heard a lot of the girls think the frontman’s pretty handsome.” He spoke with a smirk. You promised him you’d go, just to see if the girls had been right. He handed you your t-shirt to hold while he grabbed you a plastic bag. He also handed you a piece of paper with instructions on how to take care of your new tie dye.

“Make sure when you wash it, you wash it by itself. Otherwise, you’ll dye all of your other clothes and believe me, you don’t want that,” he chuckled, as if he was speaking from experience.

You thanked him with a warm smile, waving to him before returning to your room. As soon as you got back, you opened your window, allowing the air flow to travel inside. It kept you cool, allowing you to walk around comfortably with a t-shirt and shorts on. You put your plastic bag in the closet of your room, writing on your white board to remember to take it out and wash it tomorrow.

You texted Mel and Tamia, knowing that Mel would probably have some smart comeback about why you want to go to the concert. It wasn’t that you didn’t join them on nights out, you just had a lot riding on your academic success. Not only because you were the first one in your family to go to college, but also because of your mass of scholarships that only continued to flow if your GPA was at a suitable level. Anything below a 3.2, and you would lose almost all of them.

To: The 3 Dumb Sluts

Are we going to the concert tonight?

From: The 3 Dumb Sluts - Mel

Are you offering to come with us without us needing to beg and plead for you to join?

To: The 3 Dumb Sluts

Don’t make me take it back, Mel

From: The 3 Dumb Sluts - Tamia

We’re absolutely going. Come to mine whenever you want to get ready :)

To: The 3 Dumb Sluts

The doors open at 8 right? I’ll be over about 5:30-6ish. Gotta finish up this paper for Heinz real quick

You locked your phone before they could scold you for doing homework on a day that was designated for relaxation and recuperation. You pulled out your Anat and Physio binder, pulling out the sources you printed off in the library. You ran through the last one with a blue highlighter between your teeth. 

You set an alarm on your phone for five o’clock, saving enough time for you to shower.  You were about halfway through the last page when your timer went off. You silenced it, attempting to hurriedly finish highlighting the page. The article was placed onto your desk, highlighter returned to the cup on your desk filled with various writing utensils.

You pulled out your shower caddy, putting it on top of your dresser before pulling out your robe. You laid it over the edge of your bed, removing all of your clothes. You threw them into your hamper and put on your robe. You slipped on your slides, grabbed your caddy and traveled to the bathroom.

Underneath the uneven streams from the showerhead, you thought about Jake.

Maybe your first impressions of him were wrong. When Josh told you about the nursing home back in their hometown, you felt instantaneously bad for assuming that he just never showed up. You knew from what Jake had told you, that he had work, but you figured that was just an excuse.

You bit at the skin of your lips, hands on your shoulders as you soaked the warmth of the water in. You were pulled out of your thoughts very quickly as someone flushed the toilet, making the water fade in from super hot to super fucking cold. You hated the school’s water system.

You finished your shower quickly, drying off with the towel slightly before putting your robe on and throwing your hair up into your towel. You walked back into your room, locking it behind you. You set your caddy back where it originally was.

You threw on a pair of jean shorts that hadn’t seen the light of day since early October, pairing it with a long sleeve shirt that you had gotten back in high school for Christmas. It was plain, brown, but hugged your body well. The sweatshirt debate lasted a few seconds before you remembered how hot it was going to be outside. A record temperature for mid-April, almost 80 degrees outside.

When you checked your phone getting back from the shower, it was just barely five thirty. You texted the groupchat again, asking if it would be cool to come over a half an hour earlier than you had originally said. You knew it was a dumb question, you would always be welcome in their room. You chuckled at Mel’s response of, “Are you fucking dumb? Of course you can come over. Bring wine if you have any left! No carry-in’s allowed at the concert.”

You put your phone down for a second and slipped on a pair of shoes that were comfortable enough for you to stand in for a long time. They used to be white, but had gotten progressively dirty from the years of use. You shoved your phone in your back pocket and slid a few different bottles of wine into your backpack, separated by extra clothing so the bottles didn’t clink together.

You walked down the stairs, out the door and over to the other dorm building across the walkway. You scanned your keycard to get into the building, walking through the hallways waving to the RA on duty, McKenna. She had been in a few of your classes and was always incredibly nice.

Her room this year was actually a few down from where you were living. McKenna was a great RA, knowing exactly how to handle the rowdiness of the floor while still keeping the resident’s respect. She didn’t bother them unless she needed to, and they didn’t bother her unless needed. She kept it underwraps about the underage drinking that would inevitably happen, mostly by telling the floor they could do what they want, as long as they were quiet by quiet hours (which was around ten thirty on the weekdays, and one in the morning on the weekends).

You took the elevator to the second floor of East Sunderland, getting off as soon as the doors opened. The booths that had previously been up had begun to dissipate, bringing the plastic tables back into the buildings they belonged in. You took a last glance at the people cleaning before heading into Mel and Tamia’s dorm building.

You knocked on the door, coming as soon as you announced yourself to Mel and Tamia. The girls laughed as you walked in, looking at a picture of Mel from when they were a kid. The two of them showed it to you as you settled your bag onto Mel’s chair in the corner of their room. “Your buck teeth! Oh my God, you were adorable, Mel.”

“Oh shut up, I bet you didn’t look any better.” Mel spoke to Tamia, making the three of you laugh. “Anyways, what wine did you bring?”

“The Barefoot we didn’t finish the other weekend, and then I still had some Rose, so I brought those over too. I wasn’t sure what we were feeling.” Tamia pulled some glasses from her shelves, passing them out to the two of you. You filled their glasses with the Rose you brought.

The three of you talked specifics on the plans for tonight, hitting up another fraternity party as soon as the concert ended. There were two separate ones going on at the same time, so the two of you weighed your options over which one to go to. “The Sigs are throwing one, but I’d rather die. Delta’s throwing one, too, we’ll go to theirs instead. And maybe see if anyone’s at the Sig party that we like and stop there before heading back to the dorms.”

You walked down with them to the Athletic Department, hoping to have gotten there early enough to get a good spot. As soon as the doors opened, you were filtered through the doors, making sure that you were students with the college. The three of you half ran to the barricade, settling yourselves against it on the right side, although still somewhat in the middle.

The show wouldn’t start for quite some time yet, the three of you talked amongst yourselves about upcoming finals, what you had to do for various classes. You also found a few people around you to chat to while you waited, hearing laughter roaring through various parts of the crowd.

A few students from the Admissions Office had taken the stage, playing a random playlist of music that matched what the band was going to be playing. Rock thundered through the speakers, filling audience members with anticipation. Rochel addressed the student body, “Hello everyone!” welcomed by the sounds of cheers and screaming.

“We’ve got about fifteen minutes before the band comes on stage, so help us warm them up to the stage!” Everyone clapped, although some of the girls around you looked unenthused as they stared down at their phones. You checked yours for any text messages from any family members. You had nothing, so you put it back in your pocket.

Around four songs played before Rochel turned the microphone on again. Everyone shouted before she talked. “Well, it’s that time! Please, give a warm welcome to Greta Van Fleet!”

Rochel and the two other students walked off the stage, passing by what you had assumed to be one of the band members. He sat behind the drums, smiling and waving off into the crowd. You cheered for him along with Tamia and Mel, cheering just as loud when their bassist walked onto the stage. Both of their hair was longer, goofy smiles on their faces as they got situated with their instruments.

Your mouth hung open as you watched the last two boys walk on stage, seeing the twins. Jake’s eyes scanned the crowd as he slung his guitar over his shoulder. He found you after a moment, sending a smirk your way. You closed your mouth, glaring at him. Mel laughed at you, noticing your demeanor shift. “How we doin’ tonight everyone?”

Everyone cheered. “A lot of you might know me and Jake, seen us on campus and stuff. It’s wonderful to see all of you here, coming to support us as we celebrate the onslaught of spring! It’s been a particularly warm one today, so make sure to drink water! There’s plenty to go around.”

Jake started them off, pick between his fingers as he strummed the beginning chords to one of their songs. Some of the girls had begun to scream, shouting at Jake’s response to Josh’s little speech before he began playing. His signature smirk formed, watching the girls go crazy, eyes scanning the crowd before he found you again.

As Jake continued to play, he looked over to you any time he could. It was hard to tear your eyes away from him, enthralled by the way he looked on stage. You tried your hardest, truly, to look at any of the other boys on the stage aside from Jake but you just couldn’t. He fit the stage just right, bringing the attention away from Josh and demanding to be seen by the entirety of the crowd. He belonged up there.

Jake went to the center of the stage during his solo. Josh lingered around the drummer, keeping to himself, drinking whatever was in his cup. They kept on playing as Jake took the spotlight, everyone cheering and screaming for him. You kept silent, wanting to hear him play. His fingers worked against the frets of the guitar, not before sliding down and up it quickly. 

You tried to hide the awe you were in, but your friends knew. They saw it written all over your face. The frustration and annoyance you felt when you first spotted Jake on stage dissipated the second his guitar solo began. You swallowed thickly, watching as his attention turned from his guitar to you, pointing it in your direction. Your cheeks flushed, and your thighs pressed together.

This was going to be a long night.

The second the concert was over, Josh thanked everyone for coming. His smile was wide as he waved goodbye to everyone, walking off next to Jake who had his guitar by the neck before he passed it off to one of the stage hands. Josh put his hands on his shoulders as they walked off stage.

You stuck around mostly waiting for the crowd to die down before trying to leave the building. Mel and Tamia talked about the show, saying that it was fucking dope, commenting on how excellent Jake’s playing was. You didn’t speak about Jake’s playing, mostly praising Josh for his spectacular performance. “I never expected that voice to come out of him, how heavenly.”

“Talking about me?” Jake cuts through your conversation, walking over to you with Josh not far behind. You roll your eyes. Tamia and Mel congratulate him on such an amazing performance, gushing about how sweet his guitar looks. “Why thank you, ladies.”

“Mel! I didn’t think you were going to be able to come.” He gushed, wiping his hands on the sides of his khaki shorts he had changed into.

“Yeah, well, Miss Quiet over here wanted to see her archnemesis, didn’t you?”

“I-I–” You turned your head slightly towards Jake, who had an amused smirk written all over his face. “I did not, Mellie, stop lying.”

“By the redness of your cheeks, sweetheart, I’d say she was telling the truth.” You had barely noticed that Mel, Tamia and Josh had slipped away from the two of you, leaving you alone.

“I didn’t even know you were playing.” You admitted shyly, hiding underneath a guise of innocence.

“Even if you did, you looked pretty hot and bothered by my playing.” You held the back of your arms, trying hard to maintain eye contact with him. You looked into his eyes, they were staring straight at you.

“Yeah, sure. I actually came because Josh said he was going. He neglected to mention that he was going to be singing,” you looked at Josh who wore a smile that read ‘guilty as charged’ before patting you on the shoulder.

“Hey, you didn’t ask. You just asked if I was going.” You rolled your eyes and chuckled slightly. “Anyways, Sam and Danny are gonna spend the night in my room, so I’ll have to find somewhere else to be tonight. Are you guys going to either of the frat parties tonight?”

“We’re going to the Delta party. The Sigs’ reputation is not the best, and I don’t feel like seeing whether or not it’s right.”

“That is completely understandable. I shall see you ladies there then. You coming, Jake? We still have a lot to put away.”

“Yeah, in a second,” he turned towards Josh who had begun to walk away, waving him off before turning back to the three of you. “I hope you guys enjoyed the show, maybe I’ll catch up with you at the party.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah, actually, I would.” He smiled at you before joining the other boys cleaning up their amps and cords.

“Jesus Christ, the two of you just need to fuck or something. I don’t think I can handle another interaction like that,” Mel joked, making a gagging face when she finishes her sentence. You pushed at her arm, turning around and walking out of the gym.

Tamia and Mel giggled profusely about your and Jake’s rivalry. The two even started making bets on when the two of you would finally ‘get it on’, as Tamia put it. You just rolled your eyes at the conversation, changing the subject to something different.

—

The party, though filled with lots of fun and drinking, was a bust. While Josh had shown up with his younger brother and his brother’s friend, as you learned, in tow, Jake was nowhere to be found. You thought to ask Josh why he wasn’t there, but he was too busy dancing with Micah. Through the grapevine, you learned that Micah and Josh had been together since high school.

You stayed around the party for almost two hours before you wanted to go back. A small part of you had wished Jake had actually come. You wondered if maybe the two of you would get along if you put your competitive nature aside. You tried not to dwell on thoughts of Jake’s absence for too long, wanting to enjoy the rest of the night with your girls. But when you had enough of the party, you shouted in Mel’s ear to let her know you wanted to leave.

Mel and Tamia had made sure you got back alright about two hours into the party. Your legs were tired and your feet had begun to hurt. The two of them stumbled with you back to the door of your building, making sure you were inside before leaving to go back. They almost came in with you, until you insisted otherwise.

Laying on your bed with your head pointed towards the ceiling you started thinking about Jake again. What was his reason for not being at the party? Did he just make those comments beforehand just to rile you up? It seemed like the only valid reason your impaired mind could come up with.

You grabbed your phone, almost dropping it on the floor. You sluggishly opened Instagram, and searched for Jake’s profile. You scrolled through, looking at the few photos he did have on his page. Most of the pictures he had were of his guitar, or places he’s traveled. You were sent into a panic when you realized you had accidentally liked an older picture of Jake’s, one from freshman year of college. Hurriedly, you unliked it and immediately locked your phone.

That had been a few days ago.

Now it was Wednesday and your first final exam was here. It was for the class you shared with Jake, BIO 312.  It wasn’t exactly final exam time, but Professor Heinz was going to be away at a conference for a week starting Friday. You didn’t mind, though, since it spaced out your other finals enough to have a decent amount of time to study for them.

You sat at your desk, looking over your notecards one last time before the exam began. A frequent look around the room and you noticed Jake walking in, going to a random seat a couple rows in front of you. He set his bag down next to him, before bending down to grab his laptop. He noticed you watching him and sent a wink your way.

You looked away as you tried to hide the rush of rosy skin that fanned over your cheeks and heated up your ears. You tried to ignore him again until at least when the test started, embarrassed that you got caught looking at him. Your phone pinged and you pulled it out of your bag to look at it, as well as turn it on silent.

jacobtkiszka wants to send you a message.

You swallowed and hit the notification taking you straight to the message.

“Person who turns their test in last pays for coffee?”

Your lips curved into a small smile, feeling your fingers type the first thing that comes to your head.

“Hope you brought your wallet with you, Kiszka.”

You put your phone on Do Not Disturb and shoved it back into your bag. The professor walked through the door, setting her things down on the desk in the front of the room. Her coffee mug still had steam coming from it, freshly poured. A quick look of her watch after getting settled and it was time to start the exam. “Okay, everyone. It’s time for class. Take out your laptops and begin your exam. You may leave when you have finished. Thank you for a great semester, and good luck.”

The questions on the exam were all ones that you knew and had studied for for weeks. It was strenuous, trying to remember everything on the cumulative exam. You had hoped it would go quickly and you would answer them faster than Jake could. Occasionally, you turned to look at Jake, seeing if maybe he was trying to look at you too.

With one question left of your exam, you click the answer and press submit after a minute of debate. You had a bad habit of second guessing yourself occasionally; it was actually the bane of your testing experiences. You hated when you felt confident about an answer, until you really sat with the other possible answers it could be.

You put your laptop back into your bag, zipped it up and noticed that Jake had already left. You cursed to yourself, knowing that now you had to buy Jake a coffee. You waved goodbye to your professor with a smile and walked out the doors. Jake sat outside of the classroom at one of the tables they had throughout the building. “Whatcha reading?”

“Josh recommended it to me, but I’m going to be honest, I fucking hate this book.” He laughed, shoving it into his bag. “You know any good coffee shops around here? I’m kind of tired of Starbucks.”

“I just so happen to know the best coffee shop in town, but it is a bit of a walk, if you don’t mind that?” You asked, walking through the door that Jake was holding before muttering a thank you to him. 

“I could also drive, if you’re okay with that.”

“I’m more than okay with that,” you chuckle, letting him know that your dorm building had enough stairs; any chance you could get to use an elevator, or get driven somewhere, you would take that opportunity in a heartbeat.

The drive was short in comparison to the twenty minute walk it would have taken to get to the shop. Jake tried to offer the radio to you, but you let him play what he wanted to listen to. You didn’t know exactly who was playing, but the blues music that played through the speakers was a breath of fresh air.

Your typical shuffle had a plethora of music from differing genres, whether that be rap or old country. You hadn’t known much when it came to blues music, especially the difference between good blues music and bad. Eventually, you got the courage to ask who was playing and Jake answered, letting you know that the song was by Buddy Guy. “It’s called She Suits Me To A T. I tried for weeks to learn this song when I first started playing music more seriously.”

“This is the coffee shop, at the next corner.” You watched his hand as he made a right turn, noticing him steering with just the palm of his hand. Letting the leather steering wheel glide back to its original position in his hand, elbow propped on the door with the window rolled down.

It’s all you thought about on your way into the coffee shop, completely relying on autopilot. Your responses to Jake were almost textbook, one word sentences that could continue the conversation without much effort. “What’re you thinking of getting?”

“Oh, um, I’m not sure. I usually have them surprise me,” you admit, shoving your hands into your jacket. “Sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s not. That’s the gamble you take.”

“I like that a lot, actually. I think I’ll have them surprise me too, if you don’t mind.”

“No, not at all.” You smiled at Jake before he went to order for the two of you. You found a place to sit in the meantime, offering a spot towards the windows so you could watch people come and go, each on their own paths of life.

By the time Jake sat down, both of the coffees were in his hand. After a few questions, Jake set the iced drink down in front of you, and the hot drink in front of himself. “Yours is an iced chai, with brown sugar syrup and vanilla. Mine is some sort of tea, I wasn’t really paying attention to what she was saying. I just wanted to remember what she put in yours in case you liked it.”

“Oh,” you spoke, bringing the cup towards you. “Thank you, that’s really sweet. Do you like your drink?”

“You know, it’s really not bad. I wouldn’t have gotten it otherwise, but it’s really not bad.”

“You hate it.”

“I hate it. It’s not good.” The two of you chuckled before you offered him a sip of your drink. “Mhmm,” he moaned. “That’s good, oh my God.”

The two of you continued small talk, whether it was over the classes you had previously taken, memories of parties from past years – anything. You shared previous high school experiences, mostly about the ridiculous things that were considered parties in your teenage years.

Conversation with Jake was surprisingly a lot easier than you thought it would be. Especially since you’ve hated him pretty much your entire college career. You figured he’d be stuck up, aware of his academic achievements and ready to flaunt them in front of anyone who’d listen.

He was the opposite. His sentences were wrapped with kindness, and the reflection in his voice seemed nothing but positive. His voice was like silk, he could’ve talked you into damn near anything as long as his voice sounded like that. It hurt when the conversation slowed, spending a few moments to take in the scene around you two, as well as finally being able to drink more of your drink (which was very delicious, it was almost like crack).

“How long have you been playing guitar?” You asked after the silence became almost uncomfortable to sit with.

“Oh jeez. I’ve been playing since I was… like three? Yeah, three.” You stared at him with eyes slightly wide, mouth agape. “What?”

“N-Nothing, that’s just a really long time. You’re what, 21 now?” He clarified that he was only twenty, his birthday roughly a week away. You poked fun at him, mentioning how you were older, even if it was by less than a year.

“Josh is throwing us a birthday party, if you want to come. Since it’ll be our 21st, we’re having it at our parents cabin on Lake Michigan. You’re welcome to bring Mel and Tamia if you’d like. Sam and Danny are going to be there, even though they’re underage, but we’re gonna pretend like they’re older.” Jake spoke with one last sip of his drink, letting the empty cup echo on the table as he set it down.

“I will let Mel and Mia know. I can’t make any sure decisions without talking to them first, but I’m pretty damn sure that they’ll say they would love to go.”

“Yeah, I don’t think they’ll say no either. They seem pretty adamant that you have a little crush on me or something,” he said, putting your cups inside of a bus tub to be picked up and washed.

“I don’t have a crush on you,” you laughed, walking out of the coffee shop with Jake. “I actually hate you, remember?”

“You may say that you hate me, but you’re not really good at showing it.”

[dedfly]

Hi I have an idea in general

I give Shadow Milk cookie Yandere and HYPNOTISM.

Please 🙂

Yandere Shadow Milk Cookie x Reader

Tw: Use of hypnosis, forced relationship, manipulation, mind games(?) cursing

† Oh how he hate, hate what one thing, one cookie he love so deeply just out of his reach

†How can you not love HIM this is just ridiculous. It's not supposed to be that way

† Well lucky you, still plane and simple like all the other cookies

† He just uses his power on you here and there no biggie (*´﹀`*)

† ♪ Some little addition here, some little correct there ♪

† Oh how he want to just control your every step.

† Bleh it's not as fun.

† He wants you not some silly puppet

† So yeah basically he used his hypnosis occasionally. Especially then you get to "feisty"

† What do you mean "How dare he ruined the world and friends you love" ? No, no, no forget these stupid thoughts, this little vermins, he is your lover, your friend and your world

no one else matters

This threads wrapped around your body against, always trapping you. Not letting you wonder too far away. Despite the fact that it is useless, you still try to get out, just like a wild bird caught in a snare.

"Awww. Are you trying to escape from me again?" Shadow Milk Cookie cooed. The way his voice came everywhere and at the same time out of nowhere scared you more than the threads around your limbs.

"I just need to go for walk, I can't be here anymore! I need some air" You squeezed out, your voice breaking, your heart beating wildly in your chest, a lump stuck in your throat from this disgusting feeling. The way he took your freedom, your... Fuck. This bastard did something to your head, it's all foggy and messy. It's like some part are missing and the realization made it even worse. You felt the threads coil around your exhausted body even more tightly, pulling in his direction, an inexorable reminder of your helplessness. You didn't even notice what he is now here.

Oh how you wished that all this was just a bad dream. And instead of claws on your face, feel his soft fingers. Well, here we go again... Something deep down tells you that he wasn’t always like this, but your brain simply refuses-

"Oh what's wrong, blue bird?" he said as if mocking someone, you can't quite remember "Running away from me again~ Didn't I tell you not to be so cruel to me, my love?"

He slowly lifted your head making you look into his eyes before he kissed your lips briefly. All that while you heard in your mind "Y/N, Y/N you silly cookie you should be around your loved ones, never leave him behind." Soothingly like a breeze in your head, making you relax, feeling the same fog in your brain. You thoughts started to disappear, you don't want to fight anymore. It's so stupid to even think about it. Every thought of fighting for your autonomy just slide away from your head like this strings from your body. Leaving you in a hands of your loving boyfriend.

"♪ Good little cookie ♪ Now~ kiss me back. Kiss me back!"

____________________

I wrote it surprisingly smoothly ಠ_ಠ

[whoxeology]

⛧☾༺♰Restless♰༻☽⛧

WARNINGS: Mentions of past relationship with Luke, Spoilers for Ep 8 PJO, Angst, Cliffhanger, very much so not canonically accurate, not proofread

W.C: 0.7

A/N: I have not read the books only knowledge I have of PJO is from the movies, TV series, and multiple fics I have read. With that being said this is purely for fun. You are more than welcome to disagree and leave feedback.

A/N: I kinda fell out of my PJO phase after the last episode but I wrote like right after the last episode dropped and forgot to post it 🧍🏻......... its here now 🤗

Again. Again. Again. Again. You continue to hit the dummy over and over again. The wooden sword dug into your palm as it hit the stuffed mannequin. You had hoped that training would help take things off your mind but the events from last night played over and over in your head. It was like a broken record or a taunting little kid annoying and making you bubble with anger.

You weren't supposed to be there. You were supposed to be with Annabeth watching Clarrissa. Annabeth had disappeared and you were left alone with the target. She had made a snarky comment about if you wanted to make friendship bracelets with her since you seem to be glued to her ass. She and you weren’t friends mainly because of how rude she was to Percy. Her comment made you realize that she wasn't Percy's friend and that meant that the prophecy couldn't have been about her. 

You had rushed to find Percy and Luke. You couldn’t believe your thoughts you didn't want to think that Luke, amazing boyfriend Luke, your Luke could be the traitor. You had hidden in the treeline just a few feet from Percy and Luke. Everything seemed to be okay which made your chest loosen up a bit. Then you heard it. 

“I didn’t think you’d give ’em to Grover to wear.” 

“How long have they been doing that? '' Percy’s voice pulled you from your mind. The loud clank of the sword could be heard as it made contact with the dummy. Actually, dummy would be an overstatement at this point. This was just a bag of straw on a pole with a face on it. A face that awfully resembled Luke's. The hitting got harder the pole holding the bag of straw was shaking with every hit. 

“Since this morning, they couldn't sleep and as soon as the curfew was over they got up and immediately came here” Annabeth spoke. You knew it was her. She's been periodically checking in on you since you got here. 

“Have they eaten or drunk anything at all? It's nearly 100 degrees out here” When was the last time you ate or drank anything. The subtle grumble in your stomach reminded you that it had in fact been a while. You ignored it fueled by anger the hunger faded. 

The once loose feeling tightened by a lot. Your chest felt as if you had been hit full force by a bull. Your hands shook as you reached for your sword. The sword Luke had gifted you. Tears spilled from your eyes leaving wet trails down your face and a salt ting on your lips. It was Luke all along. How could your Luke do this? Everything you thought you knew about him. Gone. 

“I am your friend.” 

The loud crack of your sword drew you from your thoughts. You had broken the wooden sword in half. The large blade splinted jaggedly down the middle. Tossing it aside you hastily pulled out your sword. The beautiful golden glimmer on the handle reminds you of Luke. You swung at the dummy and you swung hard. The harsh bangs were heard throughout the camp. 

“She’s going to end up breaking the poor dummy”  Percy tried to joke to ease the tension in the air. You didn’t acknowledge the joke still hitting the dummy as if it was Luke all over again. 

“Better the dummy than us” Annabeth muttered barely loud enough for you to hear. You swear Luke had said the exact same thing to you when you had pissed off Clarrissa. The memory of you and him laughing turned sour in your mind. A loud almost thunder-sounding crack echoed throughout the camp. Everyone had stopped what they were doing to look at the source. The source was you. You had hit the dummy so hard you had cracked it in half.  

You were panting hard. Sweat covered your entire body as your shirt stuck to your back uncomfortably and your bare thighs stuck together the shorts you wore in hopes of keeping you cool failing. Your fingertips were white from how hard you had been gripping your sword. The blood-red gems leave imprints on your palms. 

You were still thinking of last night. 

“Are you okay you don’t look so good?” You could hear his voice. It was fuzzy and spun around in your head. You turned to face him. To tell him you were fine. You spun around fast only to be met with two Percy Jacksons. 

“Huh?” was all you said as your sword slipped from your grasp and you fell to the side. Head hitting the land before it all went black. 

 “Percy, none of this was meant to betray you”

[pancakes4two]

baby please come home

happy holidays everyone! i wanted to write something short for @watchmegetobsessed​‘s fanficmas to close out the year. i’ve had the best time writing a bunch of concepts these last few months so... here is an ode to the first harry i wrote this year & the most recent 💗 enjoy!

preview: Harry disappears from public view until January, wanting to close out the year in private. He does, however, decide to share a photo of the three of you sitting under the tree on Christmas. You’re grinning at the camera, leaning close to Harry. Beau is sitting in your lap, fuzzy antlers sitting atop his head. His entire body is turned towards Harry, big brown eyes glittering as he stares as his dad and reaches for him with tiny hands. Harry’s smiling so wide his eyes may as well be closed, his face flush with nothing but pure joy.

He captions the photo: Christmas Morning. Harry’s House. December, 2022. It gets 10 million likes in 24 hours.

MASTERLIST | TALK TO ME

1. christmas with dadrry (from this blurb!)

Harry is playing his last show of 2022 when he decides to have a little fun. He’s been in Brazil for the past couple of days, closing out the Latin American leg of Love on Tour. Three stops ago in Argentina, he’d sent you and your son off on a plane home to London. With the two of you now being 5,000 miles away, he can’t help but ache for home a little more than usual, despite the fact that he’ll be joining you at home soon. A sign at the barricade reminds him of this fact, as he prepares to give a speech to lead into his encore.

“So…” Harry says, popping out his hip dramatically, “Before we move on to our last couple of songs, there’s a sign up at the front here that I want to address.”

The arena explodes in chatter as a spotlight comes down from above, searching for the flashy poster board. Harry squints and twists his microphone cord between his fingers, (he mentally notes that next year will be the year he finally starts using a wireless mic) and points when he manages to spot the sign he had noticed earlier.

“Right, this sign says,” Harry pauses as a cameraman beside him zooms in on the sign, projecting it onto the large screens behind the stage. “We came here for Y/N and no-one else.”

The crowd bursts into collective laughter and hoots, and Harry sees a few phone shoot up in the front row, eager to capture the obvious fan interaction that’s about to take place. He walks closer to the edge of the stage, and kneels down directly in front of the two fans that had brought the sign.

“Let me just start by saying how could you,” Harry brings a hand to his chest, squeezing his fist and trying his best to school his expression into one of dramatic anguish. One of the fans belly-laughs, while the other takes his reaction more to heart, waving her hands in the air and trying to rationalize the statement that had been written on their sign. “Only joking! But I am a bit hurt. It’s my name that’s attached to the tour, the posters, the merch, after all...”

“Sadly, I do have to inform you that Y/N has left with our son to go back home,” Harry squints out at the audience. The crowd groans loudly at that, and the sound of Mitch’s laughter comes through his in-ear monitors.

“Soooo, you’ll have to deal with it just being me up here!” Harry points a thumb at himself, turning around to give Mitch the finger with his other hand. “It is, however, close to Christmas, and I must admit I’m missing my family too. So we’ll see if we can do something about that.”

Harry gestures for the production lead then, and the fans that make up the first couple of rows in the stadium look to each other curiously, wondering why Harry’s suddenly gone off-script. While they whisper amongst themselves, the production lead runs up on stage and hands Harry his phone. He wiggles it in the air, brandishing it in front of the crowd. They cheer in anticipation for what he’s about to do next. The screen on Harry’s phone turns on in response to all his movement, and the stadium unexpectedly gets a glimpse of his wallpaper. It’s a picture of you and Beau, taken not more than a month ago, posing in front of Foro Sol in Mexico City. Beau’s wearing a Love on Tour shirt that’s comically large on his tiny body, sucking on a pacifier as you hold him to your chest, pointing at the massive screen displaying Harry’s name behind you. The entire crowd coos upon seeing the image, and even more phones shoot up to record the moment. Harry smirks knowingly, as if to say: adorable, isn’t it?

He holds his phone to his chest then, hiding it from view as he types in his passcode and swipes through his apps. He opens up your contact card and presses the FaceTime button, shushing the crowd when the call goes through. It’s late enough at night back home in London that he’s sure Beau’s asleep already, but you’re still awake and will be able to pick up his calls without disturbing the sleeping baby. The screen takes a moment to load before your face pops up, slightly pixellated and makeup-less, but beautiful nonetheless. Harry turns his phone back towards the crowd, and they can’t hold in their excitement when they see your face projected onto the stadium screens.

“Say hi everyone!” Harry waves at his phone, grinning at how the crowd has welcomed you. “Y/N, everyone’s been missing you, and now that I’ve got you here, it only seems fitting that I sing something special tonight...”

You give Harry a confused look through the phone, and he says nothing in response, just smiles and cues Pauli in. Pauli twirls a set of mallets between their fingers and begins to play a xylophone in front of them. They count themself in, and the starting notes to Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas Is You sound through the stadium. 

Harry can’t hear you over the noise of the crowd, but he sees you shake your head at him and swears you yell out, “Shut the fuck up!!!” as he starts to sing.

“I don’t want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need. I don’t care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree. I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know, make my wish come true... all I want for Christmas is you!”

Harry prances around the stage with you on his phone, directing the lyrics to your smiling face on the screen. The crowd dances along and Sarah points and laughs when Harry passes by, fondly admiring just how much of a hopeless romantic he is. As the song continues, Harry decides to leap across the catwalk, determined to make this performance as extra as humanly possible. The crowd reaches for him, but in this moment he only has eyes for you. He brings his phone out in front of him as he shimmies in front of the camera, reminding you that, “Baby, all I want for Christmas is you.”

When Harry launches into the bridge, he points up at the sky. A loud pop sounds through the venue as cannons that had been rigged onto the stage release tiny pieces of confetti that had been shaped into snowflakes. The paper rains down onto the crowd, blanketing the entire stage and floor into a sea of white. The pretend-snowflakes continue to cascade through the sky, glistening under all the stage lights, and Harry ends the song by running back towards the main stage and collapsing backwards onto it. He moves his limbs up and down through the confetti that now covers the surface as if to make a snow angel. He looks up at your smiling face, still watching him sing through his phone, and it’s almost as if you’re there with him. It’s only been a few days and yet he still misses you like crazy. Harry gets lost in the moment for a second, before the crowd drags him back down into reality. He sits up, brushing the confetti out of his hair, and smiles at the sea of people looking at him adoringly.

“Hope you didn’t mind that little switch-up, there,” Harry beams, “just felt like singing a Christmas song tonight.”

“Now, we’re gonna say bye to Y/N,” he continues, placing his microphone behind his back so he can speak to you privately. The crowd boos in response, and you laugh. 

“Let me talk to your fans!” you say, wagging a disapproving finger at Harry.

“You’re a demanding bunch!” Harry jokes, putting his microphone back under his phone speaker. Your voice comes through over the venue speakers, a little tinny, but understandable. 

“Goodnight everyone! Hope you had lots of fun tonight, and thank you so much for the surprise. Take care of H for me so he comes back home all in one piece,” you blow a kiss to your phone and Harry catches it, keeping it in his back pocket.

“That was for the fans, you idiot!” You laugh, and Harry throws his hands up at the crowd when they start to laugh at him.

“Okay, no more listening privileges for you lot if you’re just going to make fun of me,” he sighs jokingly, hiding his mic behind his back again. He brings the speaker up to his mouth so you can hear him properly.

“Be home soon,” he says, “love you so much. Sleep well and text me when you’re up.”

“Love you too, goodnight, H,” you smile, hanging up the call. Harry turns back around and sees his crowd looking disappointed at the fact that they weren’t able to hear the last bit of your conversation.

“Don’t look at me like that! Some conversations are better left private,” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and Mitch throws a guitar pick at him, having heard the conversation and knowing that it had not gone at all like what Harry was implying. “Anyways, onto the encore...”

LONDON, A FEW DAYS LATER

Christmas morning arrives in a blur. Harry’s finally sufficiently rested after battling with jet lag, though he still finds himself waking up slightly earlier than usual. The sun is only starting to rise, and it had snowed the night before. He looks outside the window to see the landscape painted in a winter glow. The Christmas lights that you’d put up after coming home are wrapped around the trees and shrubs outside, providing some warmth to the otherwise blue atmosphere.

Harry makes his way into the living room, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He finds you awake already in the kitchen, with Beau on your side, heating up a pot of tea. Beau is looking determined, sucking on a baby bottle with force as he clings onto his mother. You both notice Harry at the same time—you look up at him and your features soften, while Beau drops his bottle on the counter and reaches for Harry, babbling for his dad.

“Alright, alright; there’s more than enough me to go around,” Harry laughs, taking Beau from you. “Good morning. Happy Christmas.”

“Mm,” you hum while Harry kisses you. You pour two cups of tea, putting milk in sugar in one mug for you and just milk in the other for Harry. You hand his mug to him, and the two of you head over to the tree. It’s placed right in front of the largest window in the living room so it catches the most light. In the early morning, the entire space fills with a cozy light, the ornaments shining softly under twinkling lights. Both of you had decided on not giving each other gifts this year, preferring to absolutely spoil Beau rotten instead.

“Let’s open your presents now, Beau-bear,” Harry coos, bouncing the infant gently in his arms. It’s crazy, how much his life has changed in the last year. He looks at Beau, who’s looking curiously at the box in Harry’s hand, and you, quietly sipping on your morning tea. Harry’s chest swells with a whole host of emotions that he doesn’t necessarily know what to do with—but he does know that this is exactly where he belongs. He’s spent the better half of the year away from home and written an entire record exploring the idea of home. But he knows now that this is it. This is home: Christmas morning spent with the love of his life and his child. The presents that fill the entire space underneath the tree, a Christmas album playing over the sound system in the living room, Beau in a reindeer onesie, you wrapped up in a wool scarf, the snow that’ll decorate your lashes later when the three of you go out in the snow.

Harry disappears from public view until January, wanting to close out the year in private. He does, however, decide to share a photo of the three of you sitting under the tree on Christmas. You’re grinning at the camera, leaning close to Harry. Beau is sitting in your lap, fuzzy antlers sitting atop his head. His entire body is turned towards Harry, big brown eyes glittering as he stares as his dad and reaches for him with tiny hands. Harry’s smiling so wide his eyes may as well be closed, his face flush with nothing but pure joy.

He captions the photo: Christmas Morning. Harry’s House. December, 2022. It gets 10 million likes in 24 hours.

2. christmas with young harry (from this blurb!)

“Y/N!” You hear someone call out distantly from your bedroom window. “Y/N!”

The voice gets closer, and you realize it belongs to Harry. Abandoning the notebook you were currently writing in, you cap your pen and run down the stairs. Once you’ve turned the corner into your living room, though, you see that your parents have already let him in. Harry waves at you from the front door, pulling off his shoes and dusting snow off of the knit beanie resting atop his head. He hands a tin of what could only be Christmas cookies to your mom, and she pulls him into a hug.

“Happy Christmas,” Harry grins, “Mum said she liked the cookies best plain, but I think they’re better with warm milk.”

“We’ll have to try them both ways, then,” your dad responds, clapping Harry on the back. “Happy Christmas, H. Did you bike here?”

“Yeah,” Harry responds a little breathlessly. You notice that his cheeks are more pink than usual due to the cold, and the parts of his hair that weren’t covered by his hat were curling in all different directions, blown out of place by the wind. “Wanted to give Y/N her present before dinner.”

“How lovely!” Your mom coos in response, “We’ll leave you to it. Don’t forget to keep your door open, Y/N!”

Harry laughs while you roll your eyes exasperatedly at your mom. The two of you head upstairs, him trailing slightly behind you with a careful hand on your waist. You hadn’t realized earlier, but he’s wearing a backpack. It looks rather full, like the zippers are about to burst from the size of whatever he’s stuffed inside it.

“What are you planning on giving me, a bomb?!” You joke, poking at the bag’s exterior.

“Shut up!” Harry groans, “of course not! I couldn’t bring a bigger bag with me on the bike, so like, I had to make do.”

“Only joking,” you giggle, opening the door to your bedroom. Harry takes off his jacket and hangs it on the back of your desk chair before flopping onto your bed. He’s wearing a navy-colored crewneck that’s too big for him, and the sleeves go past his hands. His skin is still flushed from the temperature outside, and you think he looks absolutely adorable like this, all cozy in your room. You sit across from him and tangle your legs together. The two of you have been together for almost four months now, thanks to your friends leaving you in a room alone and basically forcing you to confess your feelings to one another at the end of the summer, but you can’t help but still be a little awkward. Harry’s your first boyfriend, and you’re still trying to make sense of the magnitude of what you feel for him. It scares you a little, how much you’ve started to care for him and how you find yourself wanting to know more about him always, from the big things down to the tiny mundane details of his life. But it also brings you comfort, knowing that you can hold so much fondness for someone else, and have those same feelings be reciprocated.

The two of you have been looking forward to Christmas—you got together too late in the year for Harry to be able give you what he had called a proper, boyfriend birthday gift, and Harry has yet to celebrate his own in February. Both of you were excited to exchange gifts as a couple for the first time, somehow, they just meant so much more to you now that your relationship had evolved beyond just friendship. October had barely ended before you started thinking about his gift. You wanted it to be absolutely perfect.

“Were you doing homework before you came?” Harry asks incredulously. He must’ve caught a glimpse of your notebook when he set his backpack down. “How do you still have work left to do?”

“It’s for next term,” you reply sheepishly, “I got bored and wanted to plan out the classes I’m taking starting January... I figured I might as well get a head start while I’m home...”

“Ever the bookworm,” Harry looks at you fondly, reaching over to ruffle your hair. You loved that about him, the fact that he never made you feel badly about anything you did. Between the two of you, you were definitely the more academically-inclined one. While you sat diligently at the front of class taking notes, your boyfriend preferred to sit near the back, cracking jokes until your teacher got annoyed and focusing more on making the setlist for his band’s latest gig, instead of his assignments.

“Wonder if I can convince you to do my homework for a month as a gift,” Harry pulls you closer to him, cupping your face in his hands. He’s about to kiss you when you turn around suddenly, forcing his lips to meet only your cheek.

“No can do,” you smirk when he pouts at you, obviously disappointed that his act of affection didn’t go as originally planned. “We both know you’re meant for bigger things than school, H, but you just need to stick it through for a few more months and before you know it, you’ll be all done with GSCEs.”

“I suppose,” Harry huffs childishly, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning up at you. You kick at his arm with a socked foot, giggling at him. He reaches for your hand and unzips his backpack, pulling out a large, misshapen object that’s been tied together with ribbon. You’re not sure what the gift is meant to be—the Christmas tree-patterned wrapping paper is folded and bent in ways you didn’t know were physically possible, and there’s several pieces of tape stuck to the sides of it, patched on in an attempt to cover places where the gift wrap had ripped.

“I wanted to wrap it myself,” Harry explains, pulling at a non-existent thread on his sleeve, “but it obviously didn’t go too well.”

You laugh as he hands the gift to you, looking sufficiently deflated. “You get full marks for effort.”

“Before you open it,” Harry adds, watching you pull at one end of the ribbon. “I tried my best to get you something you really wanted, but I didn’t know if, like, someone else had already bought it for you, or anything... so there’s a receipt in there for you to exchange it for something else if you’d like.”

“Don’t be silly,” you reassure him, taking extra care to tear the paper carefully. The gift feels delicate in your hands, as if the item inside were made of something soft and pliable. You pause on opening the present for a moment to press a gentle kiss to your boyfriend’s knuckles: the last thing you’d want is to make him think you’d ever be disappointed in anything he gifted to you.

You finally manage to pull away at the gift wrap and tape, and your hands land on a cream-colored cardigan. You gasp and look at Harry, who’s looking between you and the object in your hands fondly, like he’d known exactly how you’d react all this time.

“There’s no way...” you say, turning the cardigan over in your hands, running your fingers along the careful stitches and admiring the tortoiseshell buttons. “But this is so... it costs so much... how?!”

Harry smiles at you, watching you unbutton the sweater carefully. “Well, I remember how much you liked it when you tried it on in the shop, so I worked some extra shifts at the bakery at the beginning of Christmas hols. I made Gem drive me down to the city yesterday and got it for you. It took a lot of convincing. She’s making me do her laundry for the next month.”

“It’s so perfect,” you say sincerely, enveloping Harry in a hug. You wish you could stay like this forever, safe in the embrace of a boy who makes you feel so massively, his arms locked behind your waist and his heartbeat steady against your chest. “I love it so much. You’re just the best.”

“Glad you love it,” Harry says softly, kissing your forehead and tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. He watches you intently as you reach under your bed and procure a holiday-themed bag. You hand it to him, tapping on his knee while he plays with the tissue paper inside.

“Your turn.”

“Did you gift me a bomb?” Harry jokes, weighing the bag in his hand and pretending to drop it because of how heavy it is.

“Like I’d kill you off after that incredible present you just got me,” you retort, kicking at him impatiently. “Enough stalling. Open it!”

Harry pulls away at the tissue paper and pulls out a large vinyl record, covered in plastic wrap. He shakes his head and looks at you with wide eyes. “Y/N. You didn’t.”

“I did,” you reply, grinning at him as he continues staring at you in amazement. Over the summer, Harry’s parents had accidentally donated his copy of Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours to a charity shop along with a box of his old clothes. You knew how much that record meant to him, so you’d gone to a small record shop the last time you were in the city and picked up a replacement.

“Y/NNNNN,” he drags out your name dramatically, peppering your face with chaste kisses.

“Come on, look at the bottom of the bag, there’s more,” you say, playing with his hair. Somehow, the two of you had ended up shifting closer and closer to each other in your excitement, and now you’re basically sitting on top of Harry, eagerly waiting for him to finish opening his gift.

“No way, two gifts?” Harry clutches his chest dramatically, “you must really like me.”

He pulls out a book from the bag, checking to make sure there’s nothing else inside that he’d accidentally overlooked. The cover is made of linen and bound together with ribbon. Stuck to the front is a polaroid of the two of you on Harry’s bike, you sitting behind him as he poses for the camera, both of you brandishing massive scoops of mint chocolate ice cream.

“What is this?” Harry whispers, flipping through the pages. Each page is covered in memories of the two of you, filled with pictures and tiny souvenirs from places you’d gone together.

A picture your mom had taken of the two of you asleep on the living room couch, your head enveloped in Harry’s chest. There’s a blanket covering the two of you, and in the distance, a TV is playing the ending of The Notebook--you’d obviously fallen asleep before getting to the best part.

A ticket stub from the first concert you’d gone to together. You still remember how you felt that night, colorful lights streaming down from above as music filled your ears, Harry dancing and singing loudly from right next to you.

A picture you took on your computer when the two of you were meant to be studying together in the school library, Harry sticking his tongue out at you while you flip him off playfully.

A picture your friends took of the two of you holding hands on the bus. The two of you dancing in Harry’s garden. The two of you running through a corn maze at the local farm. Harry waving at you from outside your bedroom window. A photobooth strip of the two of you: a vignette of him looking at you, a vignette of him turning your chin towards him, a vignette of your lips meeting.

“I figured, next year, when you’re off to the X-Factor and you get all big and famous, you can keep this with you when you’re away and it’ll remind you that I’m always thinking of you,” you say shyly. “You know, so you don’t forget me while you’re away.”

“How could I ever forget you?” Harry asks, and his voice is so sincere that it cuts straight to your heart. “I’d never get big or famous enough to forget about you. But this book, Y/N, it’s amazing. It means so much to me that you made this for me. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Mhm,” you respond, smiling at him.

“Of course, you’re going to feel silly when they send me home right after auditions, and it’s back to me being your average boyfriend.”

“That’s not going to happen,” you say, and you mean every word of it. “Whole country’s gonna know your name soon.”

“Well, then I couldn’t be more grateful that you were the first one to know,” Harry says, pulling his phone out from his pocket. “Let me take a picture of us and tweet it to my two fans.”

You laugh then, and run your fingers through your hair to tame it. You pull yourself into Harry’s chest and he brings his phone out in front of the two of you. He kisses the top of your head, smiling through the action, and the digital camera clicks. You watch as he attaches the photo to a tweet and begins to type up a caption.

Christmas with my number one fan. Lucky she doesn’t know I’m her biggest fan, too. 

Harry presses send on the tweet and locks his phone. For now, no one sees it except for his sister, and the four other friends who actually follow his Twitter account. But twelve years later, when the whole world knows his name, a fan will find the tweet on his account, buried under thousands of other messages, and tag him in it. He’ll open it in the morning, with you asleep still beside him, and smile to himself as he remembers your first Christmas together. He’ll pull you a little closer as snow falls silently outside, brush your hair aside and listen to you breath steadily in his arms. He’ll lean in and whisper, Told you I could never forget you, and count himself lucky for all the holidays he’ll get to spend for the rest of his life with you right there beside him.

TAGLIST: @crazygirlinthisworld​ @grapejuice-rry​ @b-reads-things​ @s8tellite @michellekstyles​ @vrittivsanghavi​ @alienorknight​ @flwrmuse 

[sunnynwanda]

Hi, sorry to bother!

I’ve had this idea lately but I wondered if you would like to write it, feel free to ignore it if it doesn’t convince you btw

Pet hero whumpee but not the docile type of pet, more like superhero/supervillain has conditioned/deshumanized them to be like some sort of rabid, aggresive pet that attacks anyone who isn’t their “owner”

Maybe they’ve been missing for some time already and when villain (or any other character you want to) finds them, they worry about the fact that hero is attacking them and doesn’t seem to recognize them at all

I hope you’re having a nice day✨✨✨

Master

Warning: dehumanisation, conditioning, pet whump and everything that comes with it, mentions of physical and psychological abuse, grafic injuries, suffocation, blood, gore, murder. I have no idea how I wrote this. Please do not interact if any of those might be triggering for you.

The door opens with a taunting creak, the sound reverberates off the empty walls. Villain takes a tentative step in, glancing around for any traps. The apartment looks perfect in its apparent abandonment - not a thing out of place, no sign of a fight or kidnapping. Hero had been gone for a little over three months. Just like that, no traces left behind, no warnings - nothing. It's like they vanished into thin air. Evaporated. Villain didn't know why or where they went. They had no idea who to contact or what to do about Hero's sudden disappearance. The only thing Villain did know was they missed their nemesis. 

Oh, they missed Hero like crazy. 

They still recalled the brawl they had the day before. Villain was attempting to cause a riot in the city stadium for the fun of it; Hero had been their ordinary cheeky self as well. Nothing new to the usual scheme of things. They took turns delivering the blows and tumbled around a bit; Villain ended up restrained against a wall and accepted temporary defeat despite being capable of obliterating the entire stadium - Hero included - with a flick of their wrist. Both were accustomed to the game plan and felt no need to deviate. The next day, Villain seized a bank and demanded Hero's presence - per standard procedure.

Except, Hero never came. 

They robbed the bank despite not needing the money and departed in a sour mood because nothing was supposed to be of more importance than their battles. Villain expected Hero to return the next day and intended to make them apologise relentlessly for such disrespect.

Needless to say, that wish never came true. 

After a week of waiting in vain, Villain started suspecting something was off. They spent the following weeks in search of any clues to decipher Hero's mysterious disappearance, any clues that could lead them to Hero's whereabouts - to no avail. 

That is, until today. Villain pulls the letter out of the envelope and unfolds it. An invitation to Superhero's estate. Villain hums, scrunching their nose. That's the last place they want to go to, but at this point, they'll resort to anything to find Hero.

Little did they know that finding Hero would be the least of their concerns.  

Villain exits the apartment, making their way outside the city right away. A deep-set sense of anxiety pushes them forward, a feeling of urgency and despair. They can't comprehend what it is yet, the idea building in their subconscious mind, but they can tell it's bad. They can tell it's entirely vile.

Villain doesn't bother announcing their arrival, instead sneaking over the high fences and past the numerous guards. They walk into the manor, darting past the hounds that roam the first floor, and climb to the second floor, where Superhero's study is. Their hands shake with dreadful anticipation. 

Villain pushes the door open, and in the same instant, something lunges at them. Their first guess is that it's another dog, but the assumption soon proves untrue. The creature withdraws at the sound of a whistle, skipping back to the leg of its master.  

"Good boy," Superhero smiles, brushing Hero's hair the wrong way. Villain watches in shock as Hero turns their head to the side, leaning into the touch and licking Superhero's palm like a dog. 

"What the-" Villain breathes out, too stunned to form a coherent thought. They stare with widening eyes at whatever is left of their Hero as they rub their head against their owner's leg, looking for praise. But when their gaze lands on Villain, Hero's expression shifts to pure rage. They snarl, aggressive and aggravated. Villain's voice is barely audible behind their growls. "What have you done?" 

"Me? Nothing much," Superhero grins, hooking their fingers into Hero's collar and pulling at it harshly until Hero starts to choke. "I've taught them what they really are. What they deserve to be."  

"But why?" Villain glances at them, seeing insanity in Superhero's eyes. They look back at Hero's dehumanised form on all fours. Their back is arched in what Villain assumes is a defensive stance. Their mind is reeling, running a hundred miles an hour. They cannot grasp the situation in full yet, refusing to believe that the creature in front of them is indeed Hero. Their Hero. "W-why?" 

"Why, you ask?" Superhero drawls, fisting Hero's hair and tugging with brute force. Hero falls onto their back, letting out a whimpering whine. Villain turns away, unable to take the sight of them in such a state. "You think I haven't noticed the little play you two have devised? Your little game of back and forth?"

"What are you..." Villain starts, getting up from the floor. Hero jumps up, preparing to attack. Superhero zaps them with a shocker, sending their body back down with another loud whimper. "Stop! Please... For the love of God, stop!" Villain yells, their lips and hands trembling in desperation. 

"Hero failed. Their purpose was to defeat you. They could have done it months ago," Superhero explains, using their foot to prompt Hero's chin up. "They chose not to. They betrayed their pack, so they needed to learn how to be a good dog." 

Villain shudders at the impassive tone of their voice. "You've conditioned them into submission. You've turned them into an animal, you monster!" They spit out, their eyes flaring up with newfound rage. Their fingers curl into fists as they look around the room, trying to find a solution. An escape.  

"No, I've made him my pet. I'm a patient master," Superhero caresses Hero's cheek and rubs their ear, their touch looking almost soothing until their fingers squeeze, digging into the skin on Hero's chin. "Now, attack."

Hero switches into a fight mode with a snarl, their teeth glimmering white in the dim-lit room. Villain dodges the attack by jumping to the side and reaching out to take hold of Hero's head, prompting them to meet their gaze. 

"Hero, it's me!" Hero's pupils are dilated and empty. They seem incomprehensive. "Please, Hero, it's me, me..." Villain pleads, tears brimming their eyes. For a short moment, something seems to flicker behind Hero's gaze. But, Superhero blows their whistle, and Hero loses all sense of self again, attacking Villain with renewed vigour.  

"No, no, no," Villain tries their best to hold Hero back without hurting them. Their voice is thick with emotion when they speak again, struggling to contain Hero.

"Look at me! Please, just look at me..." Their expression is nothing short of begging, but Hero remains unaffected. With no other choice left, Villain grasps Hero's collar, hooking their belt through it and securing it. 

Hero is rabid against their leash, thrashing on the ground as Villain stands, facing Superhero. 

"No matter how far you take them, they'll always be my pet," Superhero hisses, crossing their arms over their chest with an unmistakable sense of victory. They are so confident in their conviction that they don't bother to arm themself.

"You still don't get it, do you?" Villain lets out a dark chuckle, but there's no humour behind it. "It's not them that betrayed the pack by refusing to defeat me. They could never defeat me in the first place. It was me. I'm the variable you didn't take into account," Villain growls through gritted teeth, taking a step towards Superhero and wrapping a hand around their forearm. "And I will burn you to ashes." 

Before Superhero can register it, their skin starts melting off their body, the tangy smell of burnt flesh filling the room. In mere seconds, Superhero's body hits the floor, their moaning sounding like music to Villain's ears as fire washes over them. Hero howls, tagging at their impromptu leash, but Villain remains unyielding. They kneel next to them, ripping the whistle off Superhero's neck, then wrap the belt around their knuckles, forcing Hero to their feet. Villain cups their cheeks, their fingers tender on Hero's clammy skin, and looks into their eyes in hopes of finding recognition - all they see instead is fear.

Primal, animalistic fear.

They gulp down the lump in their throat and blow the whistle, watching Hero's eyes light up in recognition of their new master. 

Villain knows it's going to be one hell of a journey to get their Hero back. They know it will take weeks, if not months, of constant grind to heal what was so thoroughly broken and even then, Hero might never return to their former cheerful self. But they also know there is no one more worth fighting for. 

Villain misses Hero like crazy. And they will have them back. 

Masterlist

A/N: Hello, darling! Oh, it's not a bother in the slightest! I'm glad to have you here. I have to admit, for the longest time, I had no idea if I would be able to finish this story. It felt very raw, very painful and hit a little too deep. But at the same time, I felt the need to explore the theme, both as a writer and as a psychologist. So, thank you for this request. I hope it turned out how you imagined it. Love, xo Sunny

Taglist: @marvellousdaisy @alltimelowing@lateuplight @surplus-of-sarcasm@betwist@excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @enemies-to-idiots-to-lovers@miaowmelodie @thatonerandomauthor @hhabaddon@burningoutlikeicarus @daemonvatis @weepingcowboywolfbat @thelazywitchphotographer @kaiwewi @soul-of-a-local-bard @pigeonwhumps @aflyingsheepnamedrose @thatneptune @ohwellthatslifesstuff @worldsfromhoney@thiefofthecrowns @crow-with-a-typewriter @qualityrabbitsoup @stargeode@villain-life @villainsblood @whumpifi @glassthedumbass @silviathebard @misskowe @ayeshaturnedtoashes4444

[herecomethatboi]

Dbd killers x gn!reader pt. 3

Part 3 of mc getting slammed against the wall lol

Guys I need more, feel free to send me any kind of request (nsfw abc, sfw abc, more parts for this silly series etc)you have and i'll gladly write them all :D (when my final exams are finally over hahaha)

Also, I was drunk when I wrote this and I trust drunk-me with writing. He's better at writing than sober-me, so here's an unedited "masterpiece"!

ENJOYYYY 🩷🩷

The Mastermind:

At the start of the match you saw the gray metal box right next to you and knew exactly who you were up against.

You weren't thrilled at all, Wesker or "Mastermind" -as the Entity called him- was such a try hard with his skillful dashes, that you sometimes questioned if he actually was just doing it since "it's better strategy" and not for the fact he enjoys doing stunts like that.

You sighed as you rummaged around the other normal chest you found -since you forgot to equip an item- and found a flashlight, which was perfect.

Then, you heard his little chuckle Wesker does, before he dashes and was swept up immedietly and thrown quite far away.

You groaned at the impact, but got up and ran, the killer close on your tail.

Just in time, you found a pallet and smacked it on top of his head, flashed the flashlight into his face -which usually angers him a lot- and then ran more.

This back and forth between you two continued, and three gens already popped, which you were glad about.

But, alas, your confidence came back to bite you in the ass.

Wesker caught you again, slammed you against the shack, and just kept you there, while he grinned.

"Caught you now." The killer was so so close, your lips almost touched.

He was amused in his own twisted way. An ordinary human made him run so much, but in the end, was caught easily.

"Gonna hook me now?" You squeked out, your throat was held tight with the uwuburos, making breathing difficult.

Awh, you're adorable. A little mouse, if you will. Wesker knew the Entity's rules, but eventually, he will have his fun with you.

Another gen popped.

"Oh no, i'm keeping you here." He said, gave you a little peck on the lips, just to confuse you even further. Nootherreasonwhatareyoutalkingabout.

Then stepped away, but the virus stayed, locking you against the wall. "Your performance was above average. Congratulations." He bowed. "You gained the tiniest respect from me."

He left with a smirk. You tried to claw away the black thing that just didn't seem budge or tear away. So, you gave up. You looked up into the fake dark sky, thinking...

What the Hell did you get into.

The Nightmare (Freddy Krueger):

The dream realm was a tricky thing to navigate in. You sometimes were weirded out by the bloodpools that scared the living shit out of you, when you accidently stepped into them.

Today, there were no generators. Which made you uneasy. What the heck is going on?

You walked into the main building and tried to listen.

Then, the laugh. That annoying, weird, freaky laugh Freddy made, then you were in the dream realm. You looked around, like a deer in headlight. Trying to listen in on the killer.

"What the Hell is going on?" You asked out loud. You turned around and there he was, leaning against a generator that was NOT there a second ago.

"A new game." He simply amswered with a grin. Freddy seemed too happy. "A little gift from the Entity to me."

"Okay, but wha-"

"Shhh shhh shhh let me finish."

"Sorry."

"Khm. So, easy," he leaned away from the gen and stepped toward you, "you find the fake generator, and you win a price!" His grin told you there was a twist.

"If I don't?"

"... you'll know." He said with a childish innocence. "Good luck!" Then he disappeared.

Great.

After God knows how long, you finally found the fake generator. Which made it bleed, just like in normal trials, and Freddy appeared.

"Now, that wasn't that difficult, was it?"

"What the Hell is your game, Freddy?"

"Making out with you."

"What??" Before your shock truely registered, you were up against the bloody generator with him kissing you roughly.

You tried to push against him, but there was no use, of course there wasn't, you mentally rolled your eyes.

So, you just let it happen.

The kiss wasn't... Bad. You sadly had to admit.

Freddy held you surprisingly gently by the waist and neck. But his kiss was bruising and he did bite your lower lip more than once.

You started to actually kiss back and held his waist in one hand, while the other was on his shoulder.

Why were you kissing back? What the Hell is wrong with you? You don't know, but it feels... Right?

Then, you woke up wide eyed. You blinked a thousand times and just stared above you. The roof of your tent cleared up from the blurry image it was. Then you just... Licked you lip, feeling it was dry and had a smoky taste.

WHAT. THE. HELL????

[bidisasterevankinard]

Inspiration Saturday 🎸🎙️🎧

Tagged by my love @honestlydarkprincess who started it with really amazing Natalia/Lucy post💙💙💙💙

I was waiting months to find idea for enemies to lovers and FINALLY

Meet mood board for enemies to lovers singers buddie au + snippet

context Buck's ex outed him to public when Buck wasn't even thinking about coming out as bi

Drowning in sadness and in the feeling that his whole life is going downhill, Buck hears the doorbell ring and despite all his desires to fuck off the one who came, he still goes to the door. 

Maybe it's Bobby who came to say that Buck ruined his second chance and he doesn't want to see him on their label anymore. Buck will understand. Doesn't mean it won't finish him off now.

After open the door all the desire to say fuck off only increases exponentially when he sees who is standing behind the door. Meeting with brown eyes Buck wants to disappear underground

“Great. Like I need more problems now.”

Call him an asshole; he doesn't have any forces to be kind to Eddie despite their truce.

Eddie only raises his hands up in sight of surrender. In one hand he had a bottle. He has his trademark grin on his lips, which Buck wants to erase with his fist. Or his cock.

“I came with peace. And whiskey," Eddie shakes the bottle.

He is silent for a second, obviously choosing his words, and then his grin subsides and Buck sees in his eyes regret and something that can be described as sympathy and concern. 

"I'm sorry, Buck. Sincerely sorry. No one should have to go through this. You had to come out on your own terms when you were ready,” big browns look him right in the soul and Buck feels like he has new portions of tear ready to come. 

He refuses to cry in front of Eddie, so he clenches his fists so that his nails leave marks.

“Yeah, well, it's not like that anymore. And my career may be over.”

“Maybe yes, maybe no. Some people will certainly send negative messages, but I'm sure many will support you. I've already seen tweets that aren't very flattering about your ex. He may think he's done something cool, but he's just an asshole. And I have a suggestion.”

The smirk is back in big plush lips.

“Which one?” Buck frowns.

“Another song. About him. Where you lay out everything you think about this asshole. I'll add some. I already have a sketch. I wrote it when I saw the news," Eddie takes his notebook from jacket. "That's why I came late. I wanted to give you some time to cool down.”

“Hate song? Seriously?” 

Buck could expect many things from Eddie: came here to have fun about the fact that Buck's career is over, to point out that Buck always went to destroy himself, hell, Buck admits that he could even have expected real sympathy from Eddie, but not an offer to write a song about his ex.

“And why not? I'm sure you want to kick his ass, but shaming him for the whole world by telling your story and recording a song seems to me a worthy "reward" for him.”

For a second Buck lets himself imagine it and can't deny that the idea of using their talents and humiliating this asshole seems pleasant to him.

Remembering that they are still on the doorsteps, he lets Eddie come in and leads him into the living room.

“Let's have a drink and I'll think about it”

song which is inspired this scene and au

Tagging if they want to share :@911onabc @ebdaydreamer @alyxmastershipper @transbuck @cowboy-buddie @lover-of-mine @heartshapedvows @bekkachaos @panbuckley @rogerzsteven @the-likesofus @elvensorceress @shortsighted-owl @barbiediaz @buddierights @housewifebuck @thewolvesof1998 @wildlife4life @wikiangela @hippolotamus @transboybuckley @devirnis @heartbeatdiaz @spotsandsocks @monsterrae1 @spaceprincessem @userdisaster @caroandcats @mandzuking17 @sibylsleaves @translasso and anyone who wants to share

[avatarmerida]

I caved and I wrote a Paulina/William drabble. I don’t have context except that I HC Paulina would take longer to switch to the plant track and William meets the squad earlier in this version. Maybe I’ll explore this AU more lemme know if I should yo 💚💛

———

“Oh Lina, it’s absolutely stunning!” He marveled at the large colorful flower she was trying desperately to hide. But his praise only caused it to grow larger as a very flustered Paulina tried to control it.

“It’s nothing, I swear!” She insisted, but the vines has already made themselves comfortable. Summoning them had clearly taken skill, it would a challenge for anyone to make them disappear at a moment’s notice especially if they didn’t really want to.

“I have to disagree, I think it’s very much something.” William laughed. “It’s something wonderful!”

“No, it’s so embarrassing!” She said, brushing the flowers out of her hair. “I can’t control them anymore than I can control my other magic. You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”

“I promise you, I’m not lying!” He insisted, gently removing a white rose from behind her ear. “I would never! I could never!”

“No, William I promise it’s okay I won’t be angry at you for it.” She said. “I guess… I was just nervous to show you. I… haven’t really told anyone I’ve been practicing plant magic.”

“Well, if you ask me you should practice it more. It suits you.” He said with a smile, feeling she looked so natural surrounded by the flowers.

“You’re sweet,” she said with a smile, and her calmness spread to the plants who did not whither away but made a slow return to their pots. “You’re wrong, but sweet. I know it’s silly to try another type of magic when I can’t even get the basics of my track.”

“Paulina, I promise I would not lie to you. In fact I cannot lie.” William said, his normal vigor lacking. “Like… I’m unable to.”

“What do you mean?”

“A secret for a secret?” He said, raising his pinky which she took in hers (thankfully this time there was no goop incident). “It’s part of my curse,” he began to explain. “If I am to lie, I am overtaken with great pain. It feels as though my bones are shifting and trying to escape. It matters not how grand the lie is, any lie will trigger it.”

“How do you know?”

“I did lie once, to my uncle.” He said, shuddering at the memory. “I had snuck out of the castle and when he asked me where I’d gone, I denied having left. And suddenly it felt as though my heart was being ripped from my chest, the pain so severe I could hardly stand. He said ‘this is what happens when you lie to me, you’re only hurting yourself by doing so. I will always know.’”

“Woah,” Paulina whispered, often forgetting William was related to the Emperor. She always views him as cold and scary and William seemed just the opposite, despite his attempts to seem intimidating. She wondered where he had gone before it struck her. “Was this… the night you came to our conjuring?”

He nodded and Paulina felt her heat sink.

“Oh William, I’m so sorry if I had known I would have never-.”

“No, please don’t be sorry princess,” he insisted. “It was a lovely night, truly. It was the first time I felt… normal. I didn’t think about my curse or my duties I just had… fun. That night meant a great deal to me.”

He smiled at the memory of holding her hand beneath the light of the full moon, the sound of her laughter as the managed to navigate the Owl House before Eda found them out. The way her eyes shimmered when she walked him to the door and said how happy she was that he had come.

“Well, you probably would’ve been back sooner if I hadn’t messed up the spell.” Paulina said, her voice low.

“If I had arrived on time I could’ve left on time, don’t blame yourself for something beyond your control,” he said, remembering the time he had put into his outfit, trying to impress her. “I was bound to discover it sooner or later, and knowing the effect has made me more careful. You can take credit for that, but nothing more.”

She smiled, knowing he meant that. She believed even without the curse William valued honesty. But such great pain no matter the lie? Not even a harmless white lie?

“Wait, did he mean every time you lie or just when you lie to him?”

“Well I… don’t really know,” he admitted, furrowing his brow. “I haven’t tried since then. But royalty shouldn’t lie anyway, so it doesn’t really matter. I intend to be an honest and fair ruler.”

“But what if you need to?” Paulina inquired. “What if by lying, you can help someone? Like what if Boscha was looking for me and asked you where I was, it wouldn’t be wrong to lie to her.”

“I would gladly endure the pain to keep you safe.”

Paulina blushed. He didn’t even hesitate.

“But when you go on missions, what if your identity is supposed to remain a secret and someone asks you if you’re the prince? It would be okay then, wouldn’t it?”

“I suppose you’re right,” he said stroking his chin. “Hmm, we should investigate this. Paulina, may I lie to you?”

She giggled, always finding his formality endearing. “You may.” She replied, matching his regal tone.

“All right,” he straightened his spine and cleared his throat, searching for a lie to tell. “Okay um… you are not very beautiful.”

He closed his eyes and prepared for the impact his only lie had given him, but to his surprise he felt no pain. “Huh? I did it! I lied!

“Well, I don’t know if it’s a lie exactly,” blushed Paulina. “It’s kind of subjective.”

“Oh? Oh, yes I suppose you’re right, as usual.” He scrunched his face as he tried to summon a more probable truth. “Okay then, I do not think you are very beautiful.” He clarified for the powers that be. He waited a beat and again felt no pain and raised his arms in victory. “Huzzah!”

Paulina blushed once more. “I mean… I’m still not sure that’s the best example,” she said quietly. “I mean, because what if that’s-.”

“Oh, yes I see what you mean,” he said, reading her mind. “I know opinions and fact can differ, but I can only lie about what I know, correct? Even if it just a lie to me, because I do believe you’re very beautiful. See? Neither sentence triggered the curse. I promise you the truth is the latter, you can ask Luz I’ve said that well before I ever thought about trying to lie.”

“Oh, well okay.” She said with a smile as Willam did not falter from the sincerity of the compliment. He simply acted like her beauty was a universal truth. She wondered how often if came up that he instantly felt that way. But despite how nice the sentiment made her feel, something about the delivery troubled her. “So… if you only feel pain when you lie to your uncle does that mean…”

“Does that mean… what?”

“William… is he the one who cursed you?”

[cloudlessly-light]

Hii it's Anon again!

Yessssss I loved that fic bc of Em being in foreign territory and who can deny Hotch's dom energy in CM fr! I absolutely love reading fics playing with that side of him 😍💞

I'd love if you wrote another one where the story is more detailed about how Em starts daydreaming at work, having fantasies after Hotch raises his voice against a suspect/roughs them up physically with ease or disciplines the team like when Reid was about to insult someone at the phone and Hotch just stopped him just calling his name LOL (tbf there are a lot of CM moments where fans are like 'wow I'd love him to grab me like that/talk to me like that' that could be fun to insert these moments 😂)

But yeah, mostly abt Em being confused at her body's reaction and realising it is a very slippery slope she's on, with (the team and) Hotch thinking Em is just distracted until he realises she squirms or disappears after he behaves a certain way verbally or physically etc...

Cherry on top if you figure out a way to conclude that with smut, I wouldn't personally know how to write Hotch confronting her abt it since I imagined that mostly from Em's pov 😂

Anyway, that's my idea of it, I'm happy to know that you like writing this dynamic and I will be happy with ANYTHING you will write about dom Hotch in the end so no pressure, I'm excited for any idea you will work on 😁🩷

A/N: Hi Anon! I hope this is somewhat what you had in mind, it got way longer than I initially thought lol.

Title: To give to you Summary: Emily had never imagined fantasizing about her boss, had always thought she was a top. But then she joins the BAU and meets Aaron Hotchner and everything changes. Word count: 4,7k Rating: Explicit Warnings: Smut, oral, overstimulation, dom Aaron (kinda, it got softer than I thought) bisexual Emily Prentiss, switch Emily Prentiss, sub Emily, mentions of stabbing, mentions of restraints and paddles

Emily had known that she was bisexual early in life, realized quickly that she clearly had a preference for women. For a long time she only dated women, women were kind, smart, gorgeous, stunning beings and she absolutely relished in taking them apart. She spent her late teens and early 20’s exploring her sexuality and preferences. It was easy to figure out that she loved to be in control, loved to bring her partner to their knees, no matter what gender that was.

But there was no doubt that if she were to chose between a man and a woman, she always preferred a woman. There was something about hearing the gentle moan of her name, of feeling soft skin under the palm of her hands. She loved bringing them pleasure and sometimes that pleasure came with a side of pain.

Then she starts working at the BAU, a dream she’d had since joining the FBI. It doesn’t take long for her to throw herself into work all the while ignoring the fact that she barely has time to do anything else. She proves herself fast, knows that she’s impressing the team without really trying as they find out small pieces of her past, and her skills.

It sucks that Aaron Hotchner is one of the last to notice.

Her boss was an enigma to her, quickly stirring up feelings she shouldn’t feel towards her boss. The first time it happened she had tried to ignore it, tried to pretend that the feeling she felt and the flush when he raised his voice towards and unsub was because the interrogation room was stifling. It wasn’t him, it couldn’t be him.

It’s harder to ignore the second time it happens. He was frustrated, the case going awry quickly and Emily watched him instill fear in the entire police precinct as they were working with one single word, voice raised to be heard over the chatter. The tension on his face and the darkness of his eyes was enough to make goosebumps rise on her arms.

And she crashes into the realization that it was, in fact, him.

Then a year had gone by and Emily finds herself daydreaming about him at the most inappropriate times. It’s not like she hasn’t tried to stop, she’s gone out and found both men and women to take home during her time at the BAU. She has relished the feeling of power as she wrought pleasure from strangers in the dark. But then she goes to work the next day and for reasons unbeknown to her she can’t stop thinking about him. She’s smart enough to know that it isn’t just physical, that she felt more for him but just want, but she always forced those thoughts away.

“Prentiss?” Aaron interrupts her train of thought as she sits by her desk, seemingly lost in her own world.

“Yeah?” She looks up at him and bites her lip for a moment. Her cheeks heated from his stare as she realized she was caught zoning out. “Sorry, what do you need?” They were working from Quantico, helping out on a local case.

“They’re bringing in a suspect, I want you in there with me for questioning.” He gives her another pointed look, like he’s seeing into her mind and she has to force herself not to fidget in her seat.

“Of course.” She offers a smile that she hopes comes off as confident and he walks back into his office. Get it together Emily.

She misses the way his eyes linger on her from his office window.

*

She really doesn’t understand why she reacts the way she does to him. She had been around people trying to control her her entire life, had always hated it. It shouldn’t be different with Aaron. But it is.

She thinks it’s because he’s in control in a way that’s effortless, that he demands respect because he knows he’s earned it. And most importantly, she trusts him in a way she doesn’t really trust anyone. She loves him.

But that doesn’t stop her confusion. It doesn’t stop her brain from fantasizing about how his large hands would feel pinning her down and taking her. She could stand in a room full of people and one look from him made heat flame in her veins. She didn’t understand it, she didn’t want to feel the things she did. But she couldn’t stop it.

*

“Where is she?!” Aaron’s voice was raised, his anger palpable as Emily sat across from the slime of a human they were currently trying to get a confession out of.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The unsub, a frail man, skittish in his behavior whimpered and Emily could feel distain as she looked at him.

It’s the slam of Aaron’s hand against the metal table that makes the unsub jump and Emily clench her legs together under the table that gets them their confession.

As the unsub is being led out in handcuffs Emily remains seated at the table, trying to control her body’s reaction as Aaron starts to pack up the pictures and papers to be sorted into boxes later.

“Are you alright?” He asks and her eyes snap to his, wide and dark and she swallows.

“I’m good.” She nodded and stands too. Her hands tremble as she starts to help him pack up, hoping that he doesn’t notice the way her pulse beats wildly, or the flush on her cheeks. But he’s Aaron and he notices everything. His hand is searing as he wraps it around her wrist and Emily has to force herself not to let out a soft moan as she wonders what it would feel like if he grabbed her throat like that.

“Prentiss?” His voice is smooth as he looked at her with something she’d only call concern and something else.

“I’m alright, I think I’m just a little tired today.” She mumbles and pulls her arm out of his grasp. “I’m good, Hotch.”

If he didn’t believe her, he didn’t say anything.

*

It’s been a few months since they interrogated that unsub, had been months since his hand had wrapped around her wrist but she could still feel it, like the palm of his hand had branded her. She’s having more trouble now, because he’s divorced and it’s one obstacle that kept her away from him that’s gone.

They’re in California working a case and it’s hot to the point of unbearable outside. It has caused even Aaron to remove his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and Emily has to keep herself from staring at the muscle of his arms, from reaching out to drag a nail over the dark hair covering them. When his fingers flex and the muscle jumps with the movement she has to look away, cause all she can think about is how that muscle would tense if he was hovering above her.

“I think the unsub focuses on prostitutes because that’s what available to him.” Spencer’s voice forces her to focus. She feels ashamed for fantasizing about Aaron when women were literally being stabbed in the streets.

“We could force him out of the shadows, try and taunt him? He’s clearly a narcissist.” Derek adds and Aaron who’s remained standing as the rest of them are gathered around a table nods.

“Let’s do it. We can do a press conference.” He decides and looks at Emily, their eyes meeting. “You should do it, a woman would provoke him. Force his hand.”

“Of course.” She nods and she sees JJ doing the same in her peripheral, already getting ready to set up for the press conference.

“Did you bring a dress?” Derek asks and Emily turns to him. She knew why he asked, knew that if she was dressed bordering on inappropriately on camera that the unsub would feel like he didn’t have a choice except to reach out to them.

“I’ll run out and buy one.”

So that’s how she finds herself wearing a black dress that’s just bordering on too much cleavage, the fabric just a little too tight, her jacket over her shoulders that she removes just before she gets up on the podium. It goes by in a blur, she answers questions, goes through the main points that they knew would trigger the unsub, makes eye contact with the camera and gives a flirty smile. She plays her role well and when they’re done Aaron is ushering her out of the room, his hand grazing her back.

“You did well.” He tells her quietly when they stop so she can put her jacket back on, feeling too exposed. When she looks up at him, he’s looking at her with something dark, something different and she offers him a smile.

“Not the first time I’ve done that, won’t be the last.” She shrugs and they walk again, heading to the conference room they’ve spent the majority of the week in.

“You were great!” Derek grins and she rolls her eyes. “If he saw it he’ll call in anytime now.”

Like clockwork, the phone goes off and Aaron nods for her to answer it.

“Supervisory special agent Emily Prentiss speaking.”

During the duration of the phone call she can feel Aaron behind her, eyes zeroed in on her. When the call ends she turns to him and she’s sure she can see the flicker of want in his eyes. But it is probably her own imagination. It had to be.

*

After California she starts to struggle even more. She couldn’t get that look on his face out of her mind, dreamt about it at night, hoped to see it during the day.

She still goes out, still takes great pleasure in finding a partner for the night to take them over the edge over and over again until all that they can do is plead her name. Emily loved control, that hadn’t changed. And then she comes to work and one of the first things that happen one morning is Spencer, arguing with Aaron about something she doesn’t really catch. She walks into the conference room with JJ just as Aaron raises his voice just slightly.

“Reid, that is enough!”

“But I-”

“Reid.”

It’s one word and Emily feels the dull ache of arousal instantly. The tone of voice firm and she almost stumbles back. She’s not sure what happens after that, excuses herself quickly and heads to the bathroom where she stays leaning over a sink and watches her own reflection.

He’s your boss. He’s off limits. You’re not supposed to feel like this. The team would never forgive you.

She tries to think of every reason why she needs to stay away from him. Rinses cold water on a paper towel to press against her heated skin. When she emerges back into the bullpen Aaron is watching her curiously, a small smirk playing on his lips.

*

“Emily?”

His voice is quiet as he stands behind her. He doesn’t touch her but she can feel the heat of his body behind her.

They’re out, a team dinner ending up in a busy bar. She was standing outside, had needed some air, had needed to get away from the group, needed to clear her head. Aaron had just told off a man at the bar as he tried to flirt with JJ and his posture alone intimidating enough for the man to scurry off, and she knew that she needed a moment alone. She hadn’t realized that he had followed her, still didn’t turn around at the sound of her name.

“Yes?” She stares straight ahead and his heavy hand falls to her shoulder, making her inhale sharply as he turns her to face him. He’s looking at her with those damn eyes, dark and alluring and she swallows. “What?” She finally asks after he’s remained quiet.

“What did I do this time?” The amused tone caused her eyebrows to knit together.

“What do you mean?” She thinks she should back away, should move enough for his hand to fall to his side. But she doesn’t.

“You don’t think that I’ve noticed?” His head falls slightly to the side as he smiles at her, a confident leer that makes her cheeks flush. He takes a small step closer to her.

“Noticed what?” She stays put, tries to exude the same confidence that he does but her body betrays her, so does her mind and she feels herself cowering slightly.

“You’re not dumb, don’t pretend to be.” His voice is firm as his hand moves from her shoulder to gently grasp her chin. When he angles her face up to look at him she lets out a shaky breath. “What did I do to make you run away and hide this time?”

She stares up at him, the tension thick between them as she tries to think of all the reasons why she should walk away. She racks her brain but it’s empty, empty on anything besides how much she wants him. How much she needs him.

“You scared off that drunk with two words and a look. I liked that.” She finally admits, almost two years of yearning coming down to this.

He hums, tone dripping of satisfaction as he moves even closer, turns her until her back is pressed against the cold concrete wall and he presses his body against hers.

“You like when I’m assertive, don’t you?”

“Yes.” She breathes quietly and something flashes across his face, something she wants to see again.

“And what are we going to do about that?”

She should have realized that he knew, that he’s probably known exactly what she’s been thinking and feeling from the start. The amusement on his face almost taunting, his smirk teasing.

“I don’t know.” She whispers and she feels her breath mixing with his as he leans down, lips so close to hers. “I’ve never felt like this before.”

“And what do you feel, Emily?” His hands move to her waist and hers lands to his upper arms, lost in him.

“Like you’d take me apart and make me lose the control I’ve always craved. And that I’d enjoy it.”

“Hmm…” His grin turns dark, his body presses harder against hers. “That’s right. You’ve done a good job hiding it. And I’ve done a damn good job to pretend that I don’t want the exact same thing.” His thigh pushes between hers and she gasps. “But I think I’m done pretending. Are you?”

“Yes.”

*

She ends up in his car as he drives them to his apartment. It’s quiet, so quiet as the tension between them gets thicker, her heart beating wildly in her chest.

“I’ve wondered what you taste like since you first showed up in my office.” He says out of nowhere, eyes on the road and his face close to indifferent. But she catches the way he’s holding the steering wheel a little tighter, the slight clenching of his jaw.

“Who says you will get to know that now?” She challenges and he turns to look at her as they stop at a red light. His hand is heavy, fingers gripping when he grasps her thigh.

“Because we both know that the moment I have you in my bed that you’re giving yourself completely to me.” He gives her a knowing stare then let’s go of her thigh only to grab the back of her neck. He doesn’t squeeze, just holds it there and she licks her suddenly dry lips. “Because we both know how good you want to be for me, Emily.”

She’s pretty sure her underwear is already ruined and he hadn’t even kissed her yet.

He doesn’t let go of her until she nods mutely, smiles when she draws a shaky breath as he starts to drive again.

The rest of the drive goes by in a haze and when Emily walks in ahead of him into his apartment she can barely focus on anything else but him behind her. The lock clicks into place and then he’s pressed against her, slowly pushing her hair to the side.

“I’m going to ruin you.” He whispers and she shivers. “Tell me, when you’ve had your little fantasies at work, what do you think about?” His lips are heated as he kisses gently along her neck, down her shoulder.

“I-I fuck,” She couldn’t think straight, her fingers flexing with the need to touch him, but his hand stayed firm on her hips, keeping her planted. “I thought about you in every way I shouldn’t.” She finally says and he snickers against her skin.

“That’s not really an answer.” He turns her suddenly, the only reason why she doesn’t fall is his hands holding on to her the moment they’re face to face. “But I’ll let it go, for now.”

“Hotch-”

“No, I’m Aaron, in here I’m Aaron.” He interrupts her and she smiles.

“Aaron,” She corrects herself and lets one hand move to gently cradle his neck. “kiss me.”

It’s softer than she imagined it to be, his lips careful as he tastes her for the first time. His touch turns gentle for a moment, warm fingers stroking under her top as his tongue licks over her bottom lip, until she opens her mouth to him. She’s barely aware that he’s moving her through the apartment until her back ends up pressed against a wall and they break apart, breath slightly labored as they look at each other.

He raises an eyebrow, a wordless question that she nods into and it’s like flipping a switch. He kisses her again, this time harder, hands gripping at her as he moves her towards his bedroom. Her clothes land in piles across the floor, her own hands tearing at his. Then he pushes her down onto the bed, grinning when something resembling a yelp leaves her.

“You’re so pretty.” His voice is darker than she’s ever heard it, his eyes close to wild as he looks at her like she’s pray and he’s starving. The bed dips as he climbs after her, rips her underwear off her hips leaving her completely naked.

“You ruined them.” She mutters between kisses and he pushes her back enough to undo the last few buttons on his shirt.

“Sweetheart, they were already ruined.” He throws his shirt away and hovers above her. “Do you really think I can’t smell how ready you are for me already?”

The flush on her skin only increases and she looks away in embarrassment but he’s quick to guide her face towards his again.

“Don’t look away, don’t you think I love knowing how much you like it, how much you want me.” His forehead falls against hers for a moment. “You’re going to come until you can’t remember your own name.” She knows it’s a promise.

He swallows down her whimper with another kiss, then moves down her body. She knows her skin will be littered by bruises and hickeys, his mouth hot and wet on her skin until he’s between her legs and licking through her. She falls back against the bed with a strangled moan and he quickly wraps his legs around her thighs, keeping her still.

The groan that rumbles in his chest vibrates against her as he dips his tongue inside of her, pushes it as deep as possible and she gasps. Her hand grips his hair and he pulls back from her with a raised eyebrow.

“None of that.” He takes her wrist in his hand and pins it to the bed. “Unless you need to be tied up.” His eyes glint and she releases a breathless chuckle.

“Maybe next time.” At the mentioning of this happening again he grins widely and nods.

“Good girl.” He lays back down and sucks her clit before she truly has chance to process the way her body responds to his words. It’s the first time she’s been called a good girl, and she feels her body throb with the need to hear it again.

Aaron makes her fall apart in no time at all, has her screaming her pleasure into her own hand to keep the neighbors from hearing and he doesn’t stop. His eyes flicker up to watch as her body trembles, keeps his arms tightly around her thighs as he licks over her clit with the flat of his tongue.

“Oh my God…” She gasps as he continues to eat her out like a man starving. Her hands grip his headboard to keep from gripping at him. He makes a sound against her, whispers filth against her clit until she’s straining and moaning.

She comes for the second time with his name on her lips, breathless and low as her hips buckles against his face. His tongue is sure as he laps through her, lips wrapped around her clit until she’s oversensitive and tries to get away from the stimulation.

“Do not fucking move.” He warns, and she cries out as she stops squirming. “I’m not done.” He licks through her one final time before moving up her body. When he’s hovering above her she sees his face wet from her and that same wild look in his eye. He pins her hands above her head and then pushes two fingers inside of her quickly, thrusting them inside as his palm press against her clit.

“Fuck, Aaron-”

“I said, I’m not done. So that means that you’re not done.” He cuts her off, the firm tone making her shiver. “You love it, you’re clenching my fingers just from the sound of my voice.” He leers and she clenches around his fingers making him snicker as she proves his point.

She doesn’t get to respond, even if she could have thought of some snide remark, his lips were on hers, forcing the taste of herself onto her tongue as he continued to curl his fingers and grind the palm of his hand against her clit. Emily had never been the type to be able have multiple orgasms, but it somehow doesn’t surprise her that he drags a third orgasm out of her in only minutes. She bites down on his shoulder as her body trembles under his, his low words of encouragements the only thing she could hear through the ringing in her ears.

He watches her the entire time, want reflected in his eyes as he waits a moment for her to relax before moving his fingers again. Her arms jerk but his grip only tightens.

“Again.” He grunts and she whines through harsh breaths, the pleasure making her mind hazy. His fingers press against her spot, massages it with precise movements as he kisses along her jaw and neck, swallows down her moans until she’s grinding into his hand again.

“That’s it.” He whispers as her pussy clamps down on his fingers. She comes with a desperate moan, hands fisting above her head as her back arches and her eyes shut tightly. He continues until her muscles start to relax and she slumps, body sweaty and chest heaving when she comes down and Aaron carefully withdraws his fingers. He kneels between her spread legs, eyes on hers as he licks her of his fingers with a low groan.

“You look even prettier than I imagined when you come.” He mutters as he works on getting his pants and boxers off. He catches the way her eyes zeroes in on his cock. His fist wraps around it, pumps it slowly and Emily licks her bottom lip. “You want it?”

“Please.” She gasps, the word out without her even realizing. His eyes flash as she unknowingly begs for him and he fists his shaft harder.

“Maybe next time.” He growls, mimicking her earlier words as he crawls over her body again. Her legs wrap around his hips and he doesn’t waste any more time before pushing inside of her with a smooth thrust.

“You’re huge.” She knows her nails are breaking the skin of his arms as she grips him. He keeps still, gives her a moment to adjust as he grunts his own pleasure into her neck.

“I know, you’re taking me so well.” He pulls back slowly and she moans lowly. “My good girl.” He nips at her neck, licks over her fluttering pulse and she whimpers.

“Please, please fuck me.” She mumbles and he responds to the breathless plea immediately. He starts to fuck her the way she’s been dreaming of, pushes against her hard enough for her body to jolt, fucks her like no one has ever done before and Emily can’t believe how much she loves it.

It’s hard and rough and she knows that his fingers are leaving bruises on the outside of her thigh as he grabs her leg, can hear his pleasure being muttered against her skin as his forehead leans on her shoulder.

“Come for me again.” He grunts when she starts to tighten around him, his tone smug as he looks down at her blissed out face.

She comes so hard she’s afraid she’ll pass out, her body tensing and the corners of her eyes blackening out. But Aaron is right there, guiding her through it, slowing his movements and whispering her name until her eyelids flutter open to look at him with hazy eyes.

“There’s my girl.” He smiles softly. “Do you need a break?”

“No, fuck no.” She presses a kiss to his lips. “I’m good, I’m so so good.” She chuckles and he grins then turns her body around and pulls her onto her hands and knees.

When he pushes inside of her it’s almost with enough force to push her forward, but he’s quick to grip her hair in his fist, pulling her back and making her back arch.

“Beg for me again.” He growls and she mewls.

“Please fuck me, please don’t stop.”

And he doesn’t, he makes her fall apart two more times, every muscle in her body aching as she falls flat on the bed and he’s quick to follow her. He bites down on the back of her shoulder, his hips stuttering as he gets close to his own release.

“Where?” He grunts and Emily whines loudly.

“Inside.” She hears his growl, feels his hips snapping against hers and then he’s coming.

“Fuck, Emily.” It’s barely a grunt, the sound of her name breathless as he gives in to his own pleasure, hips jerking against hers. He gives himself a few seconds to catch his breath and then rolls off her, body covered in sweat as he waits for the feeling to return in his extremities. He looks at her, sees the flush on her cheeks and how she’s still quivering slightly. “Are you okay?”

“I might not be able to use my legs for a few hours.” She quips and he laughs and then pulls her into him. He presses a kiss to her forehead and then her lips.

“So,” He starts and brushes some hair behind her ear. “was it what you imagined?”

“To be honest, you were kind of soft.” She laughs when he pinches her side warningly.

“Brat.” He mutters and she hums happily. “Just you wait, sweet girl. There’s a paddle with your name on it in the closet if you aren’t careful.”

She laughs again but the goosebumps on her arms are hard to ignore and she knows he sees them and only gives her a knowing look, but doesn’t say anything. The room goes quiet for a moment and the next time she speaks it’s a little more careful, her eyes flitting over his face as she bites on her bottom lip.

“Are we doing this? Really?”

“Emily I’ve wanted this for so long. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t sure about this, us.” He smiles softly and she feels something warm in her chest.

“I wouldn’t either.”

[traumxrei-archive]

【 glittering desires 】

author's note: here we go, this is the homage to the fact that fairy gala leona actually came home :'))) look this card is pretty but it was also pretty expensive haha- also we don't talk abt how fast i wrote this after i got the inspo... anyways. i hope you have fun reading this bc i sure had fun writing it !

characters: gn! prefect, leona kingscholar

word count: 1.6k

tags: leona is a bully /lh, your honor this man is madly in love, no bc he's so mushy and for what ??, he's 100% whipped, bc he's leona there's banter, he sees the prefect and he's like "wow sparkly...i love them..." that's it, that's the fic.

[ or read it on ao3 | the fairy gala collection ]

When he woke up from his nap, it was to the sound of their voice. At first, he thought it was his mind playing tricks on him; giving him dreams that were too far out of his reach. Dreams spun of laughter that were far too sweet to ever be fully his. Mere fantasies that Leona couldn't even believe in, let alone grasp.

And it was annoying how often he found himself dreaming of them lately. Especially after this stupid, annoying task that the damn crow assigned them. So he grunted, pressing his eyes shut further; hoping that the image of them would finally disappear.

That was until he felt the tug on his leg,  "Leo~na? Are you still asleep? Geez, how did you even make it up there?"

Ah. That was the real them, wasn't it?

Weighted eyelids eased open, watching as they clambered up the tree to get to him. He made no attempt to move; keeping his tail as still as he could. Instead, he watched— thoroughly amused— as they huffed, finally managing to haul themself onto a nearby branch.

He chose that moment to finally speak, "Crewel's gonna flip if you get that dirty."

Their shoulders jolted, " Sevens– How long have you been awake for?"

"Just now," Leona yawned, giving his neck a stretch. "What're you doing here?" He watched with unease as they situated themself on the branch. He reached for his magic pen, just in case.

"I was looking for you," They chuckled lightly. "Vil-senpai was flipping his lid over you escaping while he wasn't looking. He asked me to look for you."

"And?" Leona had to thank Vil for this opportunity. It wasn't often that he got time alone with them. "Did he think a herbivore like you could take me back there?"

"Stop being childish," They tutted, and the decorations on their clothes clinked as they moved. "You know Vil-senpai's only being harsh because we don't have much time. And besides, you're the centerpiece of our show."

"Damn right I am," Leona said, infusing his words with arrogance as a ploy. "And this star needs some rest from that guy's tyranny."

"C'mon, I'll accompany you back and watch your practice," They bargained, holding out a hand. And Leona considered it for a moment. Having them there would be better than not having them there. But that kind of deal was too easy.

He raised a brow, "You think that's gonna work?"

"Mmm, Ruggie-senpai told me to try it out," There was a foolish smile on their face. It made Leona look away; frustrated from how unaware they were. "Guess he was wrong."

"'Course he was."

"So then how will I get this great and mighty Leona-sama back to the practice rooms?" A hand was placed exaggeratedly on their chin.

Leona jumped down before they could say another word. It was better to let them trip over themselves to think of how to repay him. After all, the person who wants something is always at a disadvantage. They just had more to lose.

He brushed off his pants, untangling the sash before sparing them a glance, "You coming?"

"Wh- it took me five minutes to get up here-! Hey, don't leave without me!" Leona paused. His sharp eyes didn't miss a glint in the grass, pocketing the item as he waited. His ears twitched slightly, making sure that they didn't just face-plant on the ground.

A moment later and they were next to him, complaining all the while, "Why are you suddenly...no, this is a good thing. But–"

"Just changed my mind," The corner of his lips twitched at their blatant disbelief. "What? Even stubborn lions can change their minds sometimes."

They made it into the hallways of Pomefiore before they spoke again, "I'm still trying to figure out your angle."

"There's no angle," Leona said, and their eyes narrowed at him like he was crazy.

"Ah wait," They stopped in their tracks, patting down their front. "I almost forgot about this." In their hands were the...weeds that Leona had in his hair. Crewel and Vil had called it an "avant-garde masterpiece of a hair accessory" but really, it looked like a weed to Leona.

"Go and sit," They tilted their head towards the throne in the center of the Pomefiore lounge.

He scoffed, "No way. There's literally a normal chair right there."

And him? Sitting on that shiny excuse of a throne? The very one Vil sat on? Definitely not. Even if a small part of him longed for a throne of his own, that...thing was no throne. It was a toy for make-believe at best.

They tugged at his arm, "Come on, I bet everyone wants to sit in that at least once." Their eyes met his; twinkling mischievously, "Are you scared someone will see? Everyone's at their clubs right now."

"Fucking– just...do it quick," He grumbled, settling onto the velvet plushness of the so-called throne.

His mouth pressed into a firm line as they drew closer, trepidation crawling under his skin. Their fingers brushed through his hair lightly at first. Then gaining confidence, till they were combing through the brown strands thoroughly.

As they leaned in closer, he watched as they eclipsed the brightness of the chandelier; basking him in their shadow. They were close enough that Leona could smell the scent of flowery perfume clinging onto their clothes; no doubt courtesy of Vil.

They weren't looking at him. No, they were far too focused on his hair. It was a good thing, really. Because if they were looking at him...well, Leona wouldn't know how they would react.

Emerald eyes traced over their features: the concentrated crease of their brows, the curve of their cheek, and the length of their nose. The slightest part of their lips, the slow rise and fall of their shoulders almost lulling him into a sense of calm. He clutched at the chair, trying to ward off his observations to no avail.

Sevens, he wanted to kiss them. So badly. But he couldn't. Not here, and definitely not now. And not when he knew there was a big chance that they would never see him the same.

Instead, he reached a hand up, brushing firmly at their shoulder. That caused them to flinch in surprise, their gaze finally meeting his. His lips parted; throat feeling oddly dry, "There was somethin' there."

"Oh," Their eyes darted to his hand and back. "I think that might be glitter. Grim spilled a whole bunch of it on me earlier."

"Glitter," He repeated. "That's why you're so...shiny." He tried to ignore the halo of light that wrapped around the crown of their head, making them a monarch in their own right. Even if all they ruled over was his heart.

"You say that like you aren't shining yourself, Mr. Centerpiece," There was one last touch to their hair before they finally pulled back. Leona breathed out a long sigh of relief. "And done. Now it doesn't look like you rolled around in the bushes."

"Hah. As if that guy won't grill me anyway for disappearing," He stood up, trying to get the feeling back in his fingers from how hard he was gripping the chair. "C'mon, lead the way."

"You say that like you haven't been going there every day for this past week." They say that. They say that and yet they still held his sleeve as they lead the way.

"'M not a kid, herbivore," Leona said, though he made no move to brush them off. Rather, he enjoyed the sight of them leading him for once.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm trying to make sure you don't decide to slip away again," They said as they reached the room. "Now go and accept your fate. Running away is futile at this point." He stepped in front of them, reluctant to enter the room.

"Hey," He waited till they were finally looking at him again. He wanted to say a simple 'thank you'. That was what you said to people who you wanted to thank, right?

But what came out instead was, "You almost lost this." He pulled out the thing he had pocketed earlier. One of their bracelets. He could hazard a guess as to how they dropped it; probably during their earlier tree climbing.

They searched their wrists, eyes wide, "That's...one of my bracelets."

"Good of you to notice," Leona slipped it onto his own wrist. "Come find me after my practice is over 'n I'll give it back. You owe me, alright herbivore?"

"So there was a catch," He heard them mutter to themself. "Bastard."

His tail was high in the air as he lumbered into the practice room from hell. Kalim was in the corner doing squats, for some reason. And Vil was focused on Jamil. Though he was sure that Vil didn't miss his entrance. Leona took his place near one of the windows, heaving a sigh as he cast a spell to fill the vases with water.

Well, he had to say it was worth the trouble this time. After he finished his laps and tuned in for a lecturing by Vil, he had a, mm, meeting with the herbivore. Their bracelet made a light clink as he started his first lap. Leona felt a smile slowly suffuse his usually-indifferent expression. Ah, he really couldn't wait after all.

thank you for reading Leona Being Painfully In Love the musical fic !! i hope you enjoyed :DD if you did, go check out my masterlist or the rest of the fairy gala collection !

[ladylooch]

After That Night in Ibiza with Timo Meier

A/N: So I was told, lovingly, that I ruined the angst salad from That Night in Ibiza 🤣. So a follower and I wrote this out in my DMs. Ultimately, I felt like it was too good not to share. So here is more angsty, smutty, yearning T and Em, from the summer of 2022.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: SMUT 18+ Content, ANGSTYYYYYYYY, Swearing, you'll wanna bang their heads together.

(Timo)

I know she is gone before my eyes even open, but I still let myself pretend.

I pretend I’ll roll over and kiss her face until her eyes squeeze tight, then pop open to look at me with simmering pools of chocolate.

We’ll start with light kisses, ignoring our morning breath, and working our way up to soft laps of our tongues.

Then I’ll disappear under the blankets, kissing along her thighs until they open for me. I’ll feast on my first meal of the day. I’ll savor every moan inducing lick, denying myself her wet heat until she comes pulsing against my lips. 

I’ll kiss back up her body, sliding in to the hilt again and again and again, soft and sweet just how I know she likes it in the morning. 

We’ll order the whole room service menu, pretend we don’t have other people to get back to in different rooms. She’ll trace different shapes or words along my back, trying to get me to guess until I get frustrated and flip her over, taking her for myself again before our breakfast arrives.

I’ll convince her to stay. She’ll nod, not able to say out loud how much she’s been missing me since June. And we’ll end the night wrapped together, brain storming out loud how to get away with leaving behind the two people we came here with.

None of these things happen though.

Because Emma is already gone.

_ _ _

 (Emma)

I cannot even express how much I do not want to go to this client meeting. Not just because it’s for a client of Julien’s, but also because he just texted me that he isn’t going to make the meeting. I drove across town, in evening traffic, to get to this stupid dinner and he doesn’t even have the decency to show up? He’s such chicken shit. Obviously, he can’t get over the fact that I broke things off with him. 

But business has been slow and I could use the event revenue from this proposed, pop up for a luxury watch brand. Supposedly, the person I am meeting is famous enough to get some high-profile attendees. It could help drum up more business and I need to take what I can get right now. 

I walk in, saying my name to the host. He gestures for me to follow behind him. And then there he is: Timo Meier in his unbothered, easy stature, watching my approach.

“Absolutely not.” I scoff, crossing my arms over my chest. “You’re Julian’s client?”

“Yes. And you owe me for leaving me in Ibiza.” Timo says nonchalantly, gesturing for me to sit in the chair across for him. If he’s angry about the empty bed he woke up in, he doesn’t let on. I straighten, then harshly pull the chair out, plopping down. “Heard you and Julian are done.”

“Can we please keep this professional?” I ask as I pull the folder out with my proposal.

“Em, it’s not like you need to pitch anything to me. I’m going to hire you.” 

“Well, I’d prefer to pitch. This is a luxury brand event and you shouldn’t pick just anyone.”

“I’m not picking anyone. I’m picking you. And you’re the best.” He shrugs, sitting up as the waitress comes to gather our drink order. Timo orders my favorite bottle of wine, unable to withhold a wink at me when he says the name. I stare blankly back at him. “Okay, pitch away.”

It takes twenty minutes for me to go through everything with him. By the end, he is adding in creative ideas for showcasing the watches and tailoring speciality drinks to the names of the styles. I’m scribbling, adding my own notes in the columns too. I look down at the book when I am finished, then grin excitedly at him.

“This is going to be really fun.” I say after a sip of my wine. “You should do more of this.”

“Maybe I will.” He muses. His fingers find mine. I drop the pen to lace them together. “Dessert at your place?”

I know I should say no. But I can’t. 

So, it’s me who wakes up alone the next morning instead.

- - -

The day of the event is hectic, but it doesn’t stop me from glancing at my phone to see if I’ve heard from Timo. It’s been three weeks since we were tangled up together. We’ve had a few calls about the event, but it’s been short and to the point. I’ve been executing the plan, only needing a few minutes here or there to clarify minor decisions with him. This morning, I texted him a final reminder of the timeline. All I received in response was a thumbs up. 

For some reason, it irked me. His avoidance, or ignorance, of me. I know this is how we do things, but I hate when he flips the table on me. Eventually, the ache in my heart will be eased by my friends or food or working out or a new man. The latter sounds more exhausting than anything else. I hate dating.

Rhea and I are setting out the name tags on the check-in table, making sure each one is visible and easily grabbed for the attendees. The wait staff bustles around, filling the tables with carafes of water and coffee. Bartenders clean the liquor bottles and pour more ice over the already chilled beer. I love this moment before the event. The last minute scramble for all the perfect details to collide into a magical night. 

“Isn’t that Alma Sturm?” Rhea whispers to me. I glance over my shoulder, excited to get a peek of the Olympic, Swiss gymnast. But then she’s on Timo’s arm and I wish I didn’t see. Surprise raises my eyebrows. Guess Irina is out of the picture.

“Ah.. looks like it.” I respond. Rhea, who knows about Timo and I, glances with concern at me.

“This okay?”

“Sure. We aren’t exclusive. He can do whatever he wants.” 

“Yeah.. but in front of you?” Her tone is appalled and I’m not sure if it has the right to be or not.

“I guess so.” I say, snapping my notebook shut. “He knew I was going to be here and he brought her.” I shrug. “Let’s go greet our client.” 

My heels are piercing against the wood floor as we head towards them. Timo looks around, obviously impressed with the space. I brought his vision perfectly to life. 

“Wow, Emma, this is amazing.” Timo says as he greets me. I grip his forearm, kissing the air next to his cheek in greeting. His praise warms my cheeks.

“It’s your vision.” I compliment him in return. 

“Amazing.” Alma murmurs. “I love that.” She points to a stand filled with glass shelves and intricate lighting showcasing the designer watches. Timo nods in agreement as Alma threads her arm through his again. My eyes focus on it; Timo catches me. 

“You should walk around. Make sure everything is in order before people start arriving.” I encourage them, slapping a smile on my lips.

“Will do. Thank you.” Timo walks by me, not offering another look as I breathe out a heavy sigh.

I can do this… I think I can do this. 

Two hours later, I know for sure I cannot do this.

I can’t stay in this room for any longer than I already have. Not when Timo and Alma walk around like the picturesque, host couple. Not with how she points out every detail of the event like she birthed it. Or how she tosses her hair back and tells people about how excited she is to move to California, closer to Timo. Who does she think she is? His girlfriend? And the biggest question of all, why do I care? Timo and I hook up. Fine. I don’t hold a claim over him, but does he have to parade her around in front of me like Ms. Universe? I didn’t do that with Julian. In fact, I dumped him after sleeping with Timo in Ibiza because I was bored of him.

Timo could at least have the decency to not be so damn smug about it.

What makes it worse is how he is treating me. Everything is polite. Professional. Above board. I’ve checked in with him several times tonight and he isn’t acting like himself. His eyes drift away when he’s speaking to me. His hands stay tightly clutching his glass or in his pocket. His smile is quaint, not quite reaching his blue eyes. 

But with Alma, he’s nothing like that. Eyes and hands drift over her body. Smiles are large. Laughs are electric. The knot in my stomach slides tighter with each affectionate motion towards her. Panic begins to engulf my skin. I have to get out of here. It’s so unprofessional to leave, but I’m afraid it will be worse if I stay.

“Rhea.” I say as I approach her. I must look as wild as I feel.

“What’s wrong?”

“I have to… go.” I expect her to want an explanation but she nods.

“I’ll take over.”

“We should go tell Timo.” Rhea agrees, following behind me as we weave through the guests. Timo’s hand is resting on Alma’s back, finger tips dipping to more inappropriate places. I mash my teeth harder together.

“Timo?” I say tightly, touching his arm with a poke.

“Hi?” He smiles turning towards me and Rhea.

“Hi, I am so sorry, but I am not feeling well.” Timo’s smile slides off his face. On instinct, he reaches for me, then drops his hand to his side. “And I am going to leave for the night.”

“No, Em.”

“No, it’s okay.” I hold my hands up at him, putting an easy smile on my face. “You are in great hands with Rhea. She is aware of everything for the night. It will be a smooth transition. You won’t even notice I’m gone.” His eyebrows scrunch together.

“Feel better, Emma.” Larissa murmurs, waving goodbye around her brother and his date. We had caught each other briefly by the front door before I had to check on the additional chairs I requested from the venue.

“Thank you, It was so great seeing you.” I don’t bother acknowledging Alma’s presence.

“Do you need a ride?” Nico wonders, concern tightening his lips. 

“No, I’m okay.” I insist. “Thank you for this opportunity, Timo.” I give his arm a squeeze, then turn, letting Rhea step into my place.

The quiet of my apartment is obnoxious. My heels practically shatter against the hard wood as I take them off. Soon, I will be moving out of here and into Nico’s new house. He wants someone there when he is in New Jersey and I offered to move in. It’s a nice arrangement. A house mostly to myself and Nico gets peace of mind that his dream home is taken care of.

I go to my room, scrubbing off my event make up and putting on leggings and a baggy t-shirt. I do my post-event routine of making popcorn on the stovetop and pouring a glass of red wine. I’m sitting down on the couch eating my first few kernels when I hear a knock at the door.

I know who it is. The whole building probably knows who it is with his aggressive stomping down the hall.

“Emma.” My name comes through the door in that tone.

“What?” I ask, flinging my door open. He looks at me, eyes searching my face as he urgently crowds my space to cup my cheeks.

“Are you okay?” His softness is a complete 180 from everything I experienced tonight. I find myself tearing up, overwhelmed by the emotions of what’s happened between us in the last few weeks. “Em.” He murmurs, stroking my cheeks. He thinks my tears are related to not feeling well. “Come here.” He walks in, shutting the door behind us and walking me to the couch. He takes in the wine and popcorn. “You need to eat something besides this. I didn’t see you eat at the event.” 

“I didn’t.”

“Is it your stomach?

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

“I… don’t know.” He frowns deeper, grabbing at my head to pull me close. I expect him to say something else, but he doesn’t. Instead, he puts his forehead on mine, closing his eyes. My eyes trace the long lashes feathering together as tears sting my nostrils. I don’t know why, but I start to cry. 

But I do know. And so does he. It’s because I’m hurt. He was hurt too in Ibiza, but now we are here in each other’s arms where that used to fix everything, and it isn’t quite melding it all back together like before. Because tonight, he was with someone else. A true option and I was the help.

“For tonight…” Timo begins. “Maybe you could stop running? And I’ll take care of you the way you deserve.” I nod and his hands rush down my body, pulling me by the backs of my thighs into his arms. He carries me to my bedroom as I bury my face into his neck. My wet tears coat his skin. He is gentle when he lays me down. He presses feathery kisses along my cheeks, collecting my tears on his lips. I should be embarrassed. Instead, I feel comfort from his sweet smooches. Each press soothes the ache inside of my chest from tonight.

We work on each other’s clothes. Not speaking, just feeling, until we are both naked. Timo reaches for my comforter, pulling it back for me to get under, then he joins me on the bed. I lay on my side, reaching for him. He sighs heavily as he engulfs me into his heat. His lips trail along my neck, sucking my collar bone as I wrap my legs around his hips. 

Our lips cling to each other. The heat from the blankets wraps us in a protective warmth. Our tongues collide in wet greed as our fingers dash into each other’s hair. Timo pulls one hand off of me to grip his shaft. He strokes his head through my folds then pauses at my entrance. I reach my hand down to his butt, forcing him inside of me. He gets an inch in and I realized why he paused. No condom. 

“I’m okay if you are?” I whisper.

“Yes.” Timo sighs against my mouth. “Only with you.” I close my eyes, feeling the tears bulk into my eyes again. I hate him with anyone else. I can’t think of that right now. Instead, I tighten my legs around him so he barely has enough space to thrust. He is slow, sensual, dragging himself in and out like we will be here all night. I savor each movement, letting him know my appreciation with soft little whines and praise. 

Timo rests our noses together, then pauses for a moment, leaning down to kiss me again. His teeth are nippy, tongue daring as he works his mouth against mine. 

“Wanna stay in you forever.” He murmurs. He presses his hips in deeper, smooshing his abdomen into mine. His finger tips stroke along my outer thigh. When he moves again, my slickness has him groaning. Our connection gets tighter. I widen my hips, thrusting down with his movements. I moan into his mouth, chasing his lips as he pulls away to focus on his deep pumps. He grabs my neck, stroking along the hollow of my throat with his thumb as his tongue laps against mine.

“Fuck, T.” I croak, heavy breaths pushing me deeper into the bed with his movements. “You feel so good.” His head falls to my shoulder and I grip him tightly to me there. Our bodies are completely pressed together. His palm comes to dash through my hair, weaving into the tangled strands until his fingerprints get to my scalp at the back of my skull.

That’s when I feel it for the first time. How much he loves me. How what we are doing is nothing even close to fucking. It’s too intimate, too powerful and consuming to be just sex. My finger nails dig into his broad shoulders as I surrender to the coil of pleasure in my core. I focus on his perfect pumps, turning to nibble his flesh. I moan quietly into his ear. He melts under my touch, fucking me deeper. His mouth frantically searches for mine again. Then we climax together, kissing desperately and endlessly until every last wave has left our body. 

As we fall back to Earth, Timo gently pulls back with little pecks. My lips chase his, not concerned with how desperate I look to stay connected to him. He looks down at where he is still buried inside of me. And I see it again. The love. The ache settles back into my chest.

How can something that feels so good, still hurt so much too?

Maybe we shouldn’t keep doing this.

Timo slides from me gently, giving me a final kiss as he walks to my bathroom.

“You good?” He asks me when he brings the towel over. I nod, pursing my lips as I clean myself off.

“I’m on the pill.” I remind him. He looks at me, opening his mouth to say more then opts for a nod instead. When I’m done, he gathers me back into his chest, laying us down into the pillows on top of the comforter. 

“So, Alma’s moving to California?”

“Yeah but L.A.” He stretches his neck a bit, then continues to glide his fingers along my bicep.

“Are you happy?”

“I really don’t care.” He shrugs. “Not sure I’ll be in California much longer anyway.”

“Why?” I question, tilting my face towards his. He looks distressed by the thought. The Sharks drafted him and he’s been an integral part of the team. I’m surprised he would leave there.

“Team can’t afford my next contract.”

“Well, that’s a good problem for you, no?” 

“It’s just…. Weird. I’ve never been traded.” I nod in understanding, then press my cheek back to his chest. He pulls me deeper into him so he can kiss my head. “I should go.”

Who’s running from who now?

We dress in silence. Before we walk from the bedroom, Timo wraps me into a tight hug.

“Thank you for tonight. This event wouldn’t have been anything special without you. You made me look good, Hischier.” 

“We make a good team.” I murmur back to him. He squeezes me tighter in acknowledgement. His hand falls to the small of my back then completely away as we walk to the door.

“So, do I get a discount on your rate since you left early?” He asks as he opens the front door. He tosses his suit jacket back over his shoulders, shrugging it on and buttoning one button on the front.

“Nope.” I wrap my arms briefly around his waist, then get on my tip toes to kiss him goodnight. He rolls his eyes teasingly, then puckers his lips for one more kiss. He watches as I do the full effort, blue gaze dragging over my face. Then he leans against the door frame, resting his temple on his propped arm as he looks down at me. 

“You know we could stop all of this. The chase. The late nights. The pretending.”

“Where is the fun in that?”

“You’re having fun with this?” He asks me quietly. Silence encloses us for four heartbeats.

“Goodnight, T.” I eventually respond.

We both know nothing about this is fun anymore.

[rileythelonelyalien]

Bittersweet Welcome (Arthur Morgan x Gender Neutral Reader)

Arthur After Guarma : (This was something that came and inspired me from an Ai bot conversation, credits to the bot will be the following, https://character.ai/chat/e5MWy8mTZGoLvFC5bJynA0ZdnwpNO4Va2z1ph3iVnuQ created by @addynot on Cai)

A/N: Hey ! its been ages since I last wrote, with sixth form nearly being over in the next month or so I've finally found some insparation back with this character! I hope you enjoy my work and have fun reading!

Fic is under the Cut :3

Probably spolilers for like Chapter 5, so please proceed with that in mind!! (Has not been proofread so proceed with caution!)

It had been a long month, a gruelling one at that. Dutch’s bank heist had gone all wrong, the Pinkertons had been tipped off about their whereabouts, news of Horsea’s and Lenny’s fates reached the papers and all of those within the area would be aware of what had happened that day.

Dutch’s plan had failed once more … It seems like most if not all of them have been failing horribly recently according to Arthur at least. Speaking of the man, your lover, he had been missing ever since the event happened. It was certainly strange, even if he were on the run with the gang, he would always reach out some way or another, some sort of contact with them in order to save them the worry and grief about his wellbeing whether that would be a letter or seeing them in person. Yet nothing… It was radio silence on his behalf, not even a small note or letter sent to confirm that he was even alive after the incident. It only spurred the worry within you, thoughts eating away at your mind as you tried with all your might to continue with your life without even knowing if the man who had captured your heart was safe, or even alive and well at all. It consumed their every thought. Meanwhile Arthur himself was having to fight for his life after escaping the Pinkertons, catching a boat and becoming stowaways that would eventually endure a storm and capsize. Washing up on an island off of Cuba barely living. All the while having to be chained up and beaten multiple times in the process to escape the damned Island. All within the span of a month, just to get back to his homeland, to get back to his camp, to the other gang members, and most importantly back to the one he held dear to his heart.

There he stood before them, his clothes all torn and tattered hanging off of his body helplessly reflecting the mentality of the man wearing them. His hair was overgrown and beard scruffily long, a large cry from his usual attempts to keep his face presentable despite his reputation. This man had evidently been worn down to his wits ends and it was so painfully obvious, the way he looked at you gave it all away without any words needing to be exchanged between you two. The way his eyes were glassy as soon as they met yours, his blue eyes collecting tears yet he refused to let them loose he couldn't afford to let his front be compromised he had kept it up for so long in fact he didn’t even know if he could ever really let it down enough for him to be vulnerable. To see them standing there, safe and sound as he had gone through hell and back just to see her again, he was grateful that he was able to live even one more day just to see the way their face lights up when they find him… he would never forget it, the face that would be one of the soul reasons that he would continue to live. 

As you see him standing there looking extremely worse for wear you blink in disbelief for a few moments, you had presumed he was dead with how the papers announced him and the remaining members of the gang missing and their bounties being printed within the paper. The whole month they had spent grieving his death and yet now he was standing there awkwardly as if he were afraid that you’d reject him if he got too close, as if you were going to berate him for disappearing for so long. In contrast to his worries, he would be met with you rushing to embrace him. Your arms slinging around his shoulders holding his large body close to yourself, terrified that he would once more just leave with no mention again and leave you to worry even more. Calloused hands come to grip you back almost desperately. If this man could, he would surely be sobbing by now, although something such as crying had been beaten out of him a long time ago… it was simply beyond such a hardened man such as him now… The silence between was broken as your voice rasps out quiet and afraid this was some dream that will be ripped away from you as soon as you have to wake up “Arthur… I thought you were dead I-...” your voice trailed off, not much more could be said really. What would you even ask? How would you ask it? There was simply too much to say and not nearly enough words or time to sit and talk about it all. 

His strong arms engulfed you, clinging onto the familiar shape of your body as he buried his face into the crown of your head taking in the sensation of having you near, having you in his arms once more, to be his again if only just for a short while. His vision was misty, fighting to keep the tears at bay as he gripped onto your body with desperation, he may not say it but it’s clear to you that he was just as if not more sacred than you were. He needed this just as badly, he needed to feel safe in your arms, to feel love and free … if only for a moment. Free from his duties, free from his bounty, free from the criminal life that he had been chained to for most of his life. He may be an intimidating and stoic man with his looks but there was no doubt that the man was as soft as butter when it came to the inside, his heart and soul would be pure if he had not been deal such a horrid starting hand when it came to his upbringing, and now just as many he has submitted to the idea that this life… this fate was his destiny, that this was his purpose to be some low life criminal scum doing anything to survive and get by, waiting for the next score that would let him escape this dirty and grimy life that ensnared him. You were aware of this, aware of his circumstances, his beginnings and witnessed how much more exhausted he became with each new score Dutch had planned. The way these crimes weighed on this man's conscience. He could act as tough as he wanted, he could pretend to be as hard as the purest diamond but in reality, he was more like a shard of glass, already so shattered, damaged, and vulnerable…

"I told you ... you shouldn't have gone to that stupid bank heist even if the money would be 'good' enough for us to run away..." your voice rang out, slightly muffled as your face pressed into his chest. As soon as you spoke those words you would feel his grip tighten on your body, rough skinned digits come up to rake through your hair in an affectionate manner, yet despite this it was oh so painfully obvious that he carried the weight of the world upon his shoulders. So many conflicting emotions and feelings that were all warring inside of his mind with no escape or outsource. It was slowly but surely building and building and it would only be a matter of time before he was due to burst. If things kept going the way that they, did you were sure that it was going to be sooner rather than later. You could see this, despite the front that he put on. She knew how men like him would put up a strong image for the people around them, even if he was on the verge of dying, he would still be keeping others around him safe and their hopes up. That was just the kind of man he was, so good to a fault, to a fault that he would be roped into this life after being orphaned. It wasn't easy but you were able to see the true him though, the one who wished to cry in the arms of the person he loved, if only that wasn't looked down upon so much. Looking up at him your eyes narrow, "Arthur, this life is going to kill you... I know that Dutch has done a lot for you but Arthur, times are changing the police, the Pinkertons, everything is changing. How many have they killed of your other gang members now? too many to count... you need to leave... get a better life, run away before it kills you..." you said in a voice laced with worry and concern as you spoke to him as you pleaded with him.

Arthur stared at you, the unshed tears still shimmering within his greyish blue eyes the sadness and helplessness held within them ever so clear to you as you stared back into them. Of course, you were right, he knew you were right. And deep down, he wished he could listen. "I know, I know…” he said, his tone of voice not convincing you or anyone that he genuinely meant what he said. But he knew he was in too deep to turn around now. He was indebted to Dutch whether he admitted it or not, the man had taken him in at his lowest point and raised him as if he were his own son. The man who along with Hosea had taught him how to read and write, educated him like a young man should be, and yet still they brought him into a life of crime. So deep and convoluted he would never truly become free from the shackles of bounty hunters and police that now would want his head dead or alive for a price. And he was just too tired of the fight. His eyes looked down as he broke eye contact with you, his shoulders slumping.

It was evident what he was thinking, you could see it in his eyes, the way his body slumped slightly yet still clung onto your body so desperately. "You know... I know... but you don't want to do anything do you?" you whispered hesitantly "... Arthur... if you keep going like this, I'm the one who is going to have to bury you, whether you die from being shot or getting sick from being in that gang..." you added grimly. It was ugly to think about but what made it worse was that it was the truth, an ugly unbearable truth. It wasn't something you wanted to have to bring up with him, but at this point there was nothing other to say than the truth even if it was a cruel and horrible thought, it was true. One way or another if he continued to go down this path there really would be the point of no return and then all you’ll be left with is a corpse of a man who suffered a fate he shouldn't have. It was a tough pill to swallow as the silence dragged on between them, it was thick and uncomfortable as they both had to come to terms with what will come, that things will not be good or great even that at one point on of them will be left alone to sleep alone, cold and grieving and looking at how things were going, it looked like it was going to be you… 

[clone-anon-after-dark]

A Little Closer (Captain Rex x GN Asexual Aromantic Reader)

Word Count: 2722

Warnings: minors DNI, frank discussions of sex but nothing more, some chaste kissing, reader is sex-repulsed aroace, angst in regards to Order 66 (I'm sorry okay! This was getting long and I didn't know how to also make it an Everyone Lives AU also)

A/N: I wrote these headcanons for clones with ace partners and basically now I want to write at least one fic for each clone with a partner who is somewhere on the aroace spectrum.  (I’m taking requests if you have any.)  Ultimately the relationship in this one is going to be a queerplatonic partnership with I love yous. There is some reverse comfort. No use of reader's pronouns.

I would be remiss if I didn't say thank you @starrrgazingbunny! Your reblog and comments on those headcanons helped shape the relationship in this story.

You sat near 79’s and wanted to cry.  All you could think about were those many nights with the 501st boys, laughing, eating, dancing, and sharing stories.  You didn’t jump on the dance floor immediately, but it was hard to be shy when Hardcase, Fives, and Jesse all shuffled you toward the center of the room.  They had no shame in their dance moves and brought out more of your fun side.  You smiled to yourself as you thought of all the times you talked and took their mind off the war.  You remember the night someone had pulled the fire alarm and you were all kicked out. You invited the boys home to hang out for a little while.  Rex chuckled watching Tup, Dogma, Kix, Fives, Jesse, and Hardcase all try to sit on your couch followed by Hardcase insisting there was room for everyone as long as you, Rex, and Echo sat on their laps. There was not, in fact, any more room and your poor sofa creaked beneath them.  You just grinned and got some extra chairs out and moved the table so everyone could sit somewhere. No one seemed to mind it being a little crowded.

It was the same night that the boys were discussing their futures. Not so much about the war, but Hardcase had met a woman he loved and disappeared to her every day he could when they were on Coruscant.  Jesse was in the process of getting to know someone and Dogma had a date lined up.  They had never been prepared for social relationships outside of the GAR, nevermind romantic relationships. They quickly turned to you for advice, as a nat-born.  

“Sorry to disappoint,” you said. “I’m aroace and will never have sex.”  Each man tilted his head and knitted his eyebrows slightly, mulling over this statement. You took the time to explain the spectrum of sexual and romantic attraction and that, yes, you still liked people and platonic relationships.  You even thought about having a committed relationship sometimes, but hadn’t found the right person for that.  You carefully waded into the topic of lost loves and unspoken wishes when you knew a friend would only remain a friend. You told them you dreamed more about building a home and sharing a life with someone, but that didn’t have to include the things romantic movies seemed to covet.  

“Are those things not important regardless of how you feel about sex, or even romance?”  The question came from Rex, who up until now, had been practically silent. You looked into his eyes, and felt a spark of hope.  It was quickly interrupted by a well-meaning Hardcase.

“Yeah, I love more than sex. I feel a connection when I’m with my girlfriend. She understands me. We spend time doing more than making out and getting naked.”

“Thank you for that information,” Tup said, rolling his eyes.

You smiled, getting his meaning.  “I think that strong, long-lasting relationships are built on closeness and understanding.  There are some people out there who have no interest in getting close to someone on an emotional level and only want the physical, sure. I think it’s pretty normal to figure out what you want and seek that out.”

“People tend to want to be understood and care for each other,” Rex added quietly.  The men all nodded their heads and you couldn’t help but find a smile tugging on the corner of your mouth.

You didn’t tell the boys some things. Like how you were sometimes up front about being sex-repulsed because you knew it would weed out some people.  It felt like a shield against future pain.  You knew not everyone would understand and you didn’t want to waste your time, but that night you felt like they were doing their best to understand.

You now felt a pang thinking back to that night.  All those men figuring themselves out in the way that nat-borns normally had years to do.  They grew up too fast to fight a war, but they had the same basic needs and desires as anyone.  Now that the Empire was in power, so much had changed.  You didn’t know where they all were, but you missed each one of them.  You especially missed Rex.  That night had been one filled with hope for you.  Hope that someone would understand what you wanted in a relationship and not demand you sacrifice your body and wishes for their own needs.  Now you were really alone, trying to figure out how to function with so much changed.

Your old job with the GAR had been terminated and you were left to trade parts and barter your skills as a mechanic.  It was in the process of trading parts that you met the Martez sisters.  One night you found yourself on their platform, agreeing to help fix a ship for a friend of theirs while they were off on a job. You weren’t given a name or anything, just a description that included blonde hair and a more thorough description of the ship. They neglected to tell you that he was a clone.  The ship landed and you stepped toward it as the door opened to reveal a familiar face.

“Rex?” You dropped the tool in your hand and tears came to your eyes. He was dressed more like a civilian, but that face was unmistakable.

His breath was nearly knocked out of him as he quickly covered the short space between you and pulled you into his arms.

“It’s so, so good to see you,” he said, breathing a sigh of relief.  “I wanted to find you. Find someone. After everything I couldn’t come back to the barracks. I couldn’t…” His voice was barely a whisper and he pulled you in for another hug.

As you worked on his ship, he helped, handing you tools and filling you in on what happened.  You thought of Hardcase, Tup, and Fives gone. You mourned for them during the war.  Now Jesse. Rex didn’t know what happened to Dogma or Kix, but at least Echo was okay. He sat, staring forward, and tears streamed down his face.  You stopped your work and sat next to him, pulling him close while he cried into your shoulder.

As he quieted he apologized.  “I’m so sorry. I think of them every day.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, Rex. I miss them. I missed you. I never thought I’d see you again.”

That day changed your life.  You did everything you could to help Rex and the network of clones.  When more were rescued, you were ready with food and clean clothes.  You fixed ships and saved credits.  Eventually, you started going on missions that weren’t so much on the dangerous side as the practical side. Helping rescued clones start new lives in a handful of places that were as far away from the Empire as possible, expanding the network.  You helped Rex find several places to lay low and a few escape routes through the galaxy.  While you had offered to come on all the missions, he insisted he didn’t want you put in the way of more danger, but then one day, Rex and Gregor barely made it back.  You and Wolffe were waiting after a supply run and were both practically tearing your hair out.  

“What happened?!” You both shouted once the door to the shuttle opened.  Gregor explained that there had been some mechanical trouble, lost comms, and they had to jump around that part of the galaxy for a while to find someone to assist. 

“It was beyond our expertise,” Rex added.

You rolled your eyes. “If only you knew someone who was a mechanic,” you replied.

“It’s too dangerous,” Rex insisted.

“I chose this, Rex.”  You looked between him, Wolffe, and Gregor. “Now I know Gregor and Wolffe have told me that they would appreciate the help, but you keep saying ‘no.’ Why? I’m with you. I want to do this!”

Gregor and Wolffe froze in place and silently looked between each other and Rex.  Rex just rolled his eyes and sighed.

“I don’t want you getting hurt,” he admitted.

“Then help me with my blaster aim.”

He couldn’t help but grin at that.  Joining the boys consistently changed a lot of things.  You became better on your feet in sticky situations and since you weren’t a clone, you blended into certain scenarios much easier.  It was an advantage.  You also got to know the boys much better.  Knowing someone you worked with and becoming friends that way was one thing.  Living on a ship with them, sometimes for months at a time, was another.  While you had become closer to all three of them, you started to feel something for Rex that couldn’t quite be put into words. It was some form of love, but you didn’t know what to make of it.

One evening Gregor and Wolffe turned in early so they could get some sleep before their watch.  You stayed sitting by the campfire with Rex.  You felt some discomfort from him, but waited as he formed his thoughts.  Your heart dropped at the thought he might have noticed you acting a bit differently around him. Were you acting different? You couldn’t quite tell.  You tried to play it cool, but that didn’t always work out.  You were brought out of your thoughts when he cleared his throat.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “How do I put this?”  You waited until he continued. “Many rotations ago, a few cycles ago now, we were at your place with some of the boys talking about relationships and you said you don’t feel romantic love or want to be, umm, intimate.  Is that still true?”

“Wha?” The partially-formed word left your lips before you could stop it. You weren’t expecting him to be so forward. “Yeah. Yeah I still feel that way.”

Rex continued. “But you do feel love. I mean, you show us all love in some form. And I was just wondering if you… if it’s okay that I love you.”

“If it’s okay that you love me? Of course it’s okay,” you answered, much to his relief.

“I just don’t know how to go about some of these things,” he said, “But I feel such love for you. Love unlike any I’ve known. I don’t know what to call it and in many ways I don’t care.”

“I do love you,” you told him. “I am happiest with you, even on the worst days when everything breaks down. I am most content with you. My footing is solid when you’re with me.”

Rex scooted a little closer to you. “How can I show you how I feel? What do we call this?”

You shrugged at the last part. “Let’s figure it out together. Maybe we could start with this.” You held out your hand to take his and he gladly intertwined his fingers with yours.  He wanted to kiss you, but asked first.  You didn’t want to say no, but simply said, “Give me time.”  He nodded and instead rested his forehead on yours. That felt pretty perfect.

It took time to figure out what did and didn’t work for you.  You always enjoyed the idea of cuddling and started there.  You invited him into your bed, first for afternoon cuddles and then to sleep.  You were both asleep almost instantly once you found a comfortable position in each other's arms. You started spending time snuggling against each other and one day while sitting in the cockpit he gently started to pull you onto his lap.

“This okay,” he asked. 

You nodded and sat.  You rested your forehead to his and put an arm around his shoulders, whispering “I love you.”

When your ship was barely worth anything for scarp, you sold it, and were surprised to find Rex already knew what ship you’d get next.  It wasn’t new, but it was still in excellent condition.  When you moved your belongings inside you found that there were only three bunks, but he then showed you how a fourth extended out from the wall, giving the two of you more room in bed together.

“I love this,” you said. “Is that the only reason you picked this ship?”  

He grinned and scratched the back of his head. “Well, not the only reason. There’s also more storage space.”

You looked into his deep brown eyes. He had put so much thought into it just to make sure you were comfortable and not squished too badly between him and the wall.  You realized that this was the nicest bed he’d probably ever slept in and your heart danced thinking about how you’d be the one sharing it with him.

When it came time to turn in, you found Wolffe and Gregor laying in the bed, hands behind their heads, looking up at you.

“What are you two doing?”

“Who says you and Rex get this bed,” Gregor playfully asked.

“Maybe we’d like to stretch out a bit sometimes,” Wolffe added.

“Well, finish your stretching and get going because I need to snuggle with my partner.”

They both looked at you with raised eyebrows. You hadn’t put a name to the relationship before, but your heart sang at the word. Partner. Rex was your partner and that made you very happy.  When he came to bed, Rex found you laying under the covers reading a holonovel.  The lights were low and he felt calm as he got in next to you.

“Partner, eh,” he asked with a soft smile.  You nodded with a shy smile, not realizing he overheard.

“I like that,” he said. “Feels pretty perfect.” 

He laid down and opened his arms up for you. You smiled as he pulled you.  You buried your face in his neck and gave him a little squeeze.  

“I love you, Rex.”

“I love you too.”  You both fell asleep feeling at total peace.

Life would not always be easy. Certainly hiding from the Empire was hard enough, but then there was dealing with the psychological aftermath of the war.  On the eve of Empire Day, you woke up to Rex shaking in his sleep. His mumbles got louder and you shook him, whispering his name to wake him.  When he woke up, his eyes searched yours in a frenzy as tears streamed down his cheeks.  He looked lost and utterly devastated. You knew he was dreaming about his chip activation.  You don’t know what came over you, but you kissed his forehead and caressed his face, wiping his tears away.  You’d never kissed before, but it was the best way you could express that everything was okay now, you were here with him, you loved him, and he didn’t have to be afraid.  The emotions overwhelmed him and he sobbed for a little while as you cradled him in your arms.

“It’s okay now,” you said quietly. “You’re here with me and I’m not going anywhere.”

As he calmed down he looked into your eyes. “Can I kiss you too?”

“Yes,” you said.  “I’m sorry I took so long to come around to it.”

“No, no, don’t be sorry for knowing what you need,” he replied.

“Maybe not on the lips,” you asked.

“I know. How about your beautiful cheeks?”

You nodded.  Rex cupped your face and kissed each cheek.  He nuzzled his nose against yours ever so gently.  Your body felt a little stiff, taking in the new sensation, but it was wonderful and you soon melted into his arms again.

“I like that,” you admitted.

“So do I.”

The next morning you woke up before Rex and while usually you’d get up and ready for the day, you decided to stay in bed with him.  As if he could sense you making this decision, he held you a little closer.  You smiled to yourself.  When you both eventually got up, you found Wolffe and Gregor around a fire, making a late breakfast.  You joined them, you sat right next to Rex, arm against arm as you ate.  You leaned your head against his shoulder and he instinctively put his head on yours.  It was the best place in the galaxy and you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Tagging: @dukeoftheblackstar @staycalmandhugaclone

[bbyquokka]

Fingers ⋆˙⟡♡

➥ pairing: Han Jisung x F!reader

➥ genre: smut. 18- DNI

➥ synopsis: Jisung's hands + painted nails equals you two having some fun 

➥ warnings: fingering, clit play, a little bit of nipple play

➥ words: 787

➥ a/n: ever since jisung got his nails painted, ive been obsessed so i wrote a little something. this and this just spurred me on even more. enjoy!

Feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated as they fuel me with motivation

➥ tag: @hanstan34

➥ m.list 

"A-Ah, Jisung."

"What's wrong baby?"

"More, I need more." You whimpered, withering in your spot. A small 'mhm' rippled from Jisung's chest to the back of his throat. You let out soft pants, his fingers making work on your sensitive bundle of nerves.

You were situated between Jisung's legs, your back against his chest as your head flopped to the side on his shoulder. His fingers rubbing painful slow circles on your clit, alternating between rubbing you clockwise and anticlockwise.

This all started when Jisung came home with his nails painted. Jisung's hands are your favourite part of his body, especially when his fingers are decorated with rings. You love the way his veins would protrude when he was doing the simplest of tasks. His long, nimble fingers wrapped around his phone or your neck.

It's safe to say that you find his hands very attractive, no matter what he was doing. Just one look at his hands made lust to pool at your core. So when he came home with painted nails, you couldn't help but throw yourself at him.

You wanted his fingers to be deep inside you. You wanted to watch his fingers appear and disappear as he made work on stroking your velvet walls but Jisung had other ideas

He knows you adore his hands, he can tell by the way you become hyper fixated on them when he is doing a simple task. He uses your weakness against you, purposefully sending you mirror selfies after the gym so you could see the veins protruding. Capture your face in his soft hands, making you whimper at his touch – he loves to tease you, it's his favourite thing to do.

"Jisung, I can't." You let out soft sobs. Jisung cooed at you. Tears pricked along your lower lash line as Jisung continued this painful torture on your clit. You need more, so much more that it burns.

Jisung's fingers rubbed up and down your slit, your slick coating his fingers. He used two fingers to widen your entrance, teasingly slipping the tip of his fingers inside before taking them out

You let a short puff of frustrated air out of your nose. Jisung's free hand came up from behind you, cupping your breasts. He squeezed and kneed the flesh before rolling your harden nipple between his fingers

He licked his lips as he looked at you. Your thighs shaking, threatening to close around Jisung's hand, your body coated in a thin layer of sweat as your cheeks were tainted a rosy pink.

You looked to the side, your eyes locking with one another's. You felt Jisung's cock twitch against your back as he looked in your glossy eyes, pleading with him to give you more. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips as he looked at your own.

He leaned in, locking your lips together in a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss. Teeth bashing against one another, tongues tangling together. Saliva spilling from the corner of your lips as moans ripped from the back of your throat.

You reached up, tangling your fingers in Jisung's hair. You tugged at the roots earning a delicious groan from him. His nimble fingers went back on working your sensitive bundle of nerves.

Soft whines left your lips as you pulled away from him. Tears falling from the corners of your eyes. Jisung smirked at you, loving your reactions – loving how you're slowly melting from his touch.

Deciding to end your torture, due to the fact that he was nearing his limit, he slipping two of his fingers inside you with ease. Your cunt welcomed him by clenching around his fingers, your slick coating them in an instant

Your walls felt soft and wet, ready and waiting to be penetrated. You sighed in contentment at the feeling of finally feeling full of something. Jisung's lips attached to your neck, sucking and kissing your delicate skin as his fingers thrusted at a steady pace

You let out soft hums, pleasure slowly making its way into your bloodstream. You felt like putty, melting at Jisung's touch. His fingers curled up against your walls, reaching the deepest parts of you.

You groaned, holding his wrist gently in your hand. Soft moans in the form of his name leaving your lips at speed. Jisung picked up the pace, your back arching off his chest at the sudden change as the sinful sounds of your wet pussy bounced off the walls.

Your eyes darted down at the space where you and Jisung were connected. You hummed, watching his fingers disappear and reappear with each thrust before closing your eyes, feeling the pleasure course through your veins.

"I always knew your fingers would look so good inside me."