#if for no other reason than to keep Jack from looking at me like I'm crazy when I tell him what I did while he was out of the house today

[sheliesshattered]

sewing the first ~5' long over-bust seam to attach the new center front panel to the existing dress: smooth, stress-free, perfect result, required a mildly obnoxious number of pins but otherwise a dream

re-sewing the ~1/2" I accidentally unpicked between one of the center back panels and a side back panel: I have given up after trying to sew it no less than five times, after the fabric managed to misbehave in at least five completely different ways

[pomefioredove]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ad perpetuam memoriam

summary: what comes after? type of post: fic. maybe a series, someday includes: ace, deuce, riddle, azul, silver, sebek, epel, jack, and jamil additional info: platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not yuu, this is all AU, not making predictions for how twst will end

You wake in a void.

Cold as winter, dark as midnight, but not quiet, nor empty. Such a place should only be shrouded in reverent whispers, if not in monastic silence, but here, there are cheers, chatter, merry laughter, the sound of bells and smiles.

You feel stiff and achey.

You haven't been here before.

Thrust your hands outward, and the infinite darkness will prove finite. You touch something solid, cool and smooth. You push. You're only half-conscious, only half-sure of what you're doing, but even then, your mind has decided that you're in a place with walls, and, hopefully, a door, too.

Sometimes, hope is all you have.

This time, you also have a door.

It falls off its hinges and onto the floor beyond with a heavy, imposing, thud. The distant merriment dies, and shrouds itself in quiet.

You feel dizzy. Your head hurts.

"YOU!" someone cries out. You? Me?

Something warm and almost rough takes your wrist and pulls you into the light, warm and sickly, yellow and green.

You're suddenly in a tight hug, your face pressed into the shoulder of a voice you don't recognize. Are you dreaming? Surely, you must be. When was the last time someone hugged you like this?

"Ace," this voice is new, coming from behind the shoulder you're pressed against.

"That's not You."

The arms that had so soon swept you up now push you back, and you're met with the wide eyes of a boy. Ace, as his darker-haired friend had called him.

"Oh... wait, what?"

You look between the two. "I'm not me?" for some reason, this is all you can think to say.

And they look between each other.

"Man. They're speaking in riddles," one whispers.

"Yes? What is it?" another boy comes, red-haired and shorter than the first two. "Might I remind you we have a schedule to keep? I won't be held by useless questions like last year's orientation. Spade, as new vice housewarden, you should have already gathered the new first years. Who is this?"

He's suddenly looking right at you, curiosity and impatience in the gray of his eyes.

"Riddle- H-Housewarden, I mean," Ace says. "We... uh... we don't know, they..."

Riddle smiles. "Heh, don't tell me. A magicless student from another dimension just fell out of a coffin?"

The two taller boys don't answer.

Riddle is no longer smiling.

"Ahem. Deuce, please see to the first-years. Ace... please let go of them,"

Ace's eyes widen again as he realize his hands are still tight on your shoulders, and he quickly withdraws them, as if you were something repulsive.

The dark-haired one, Deuce, reluctantly leaves, Ace not far behind. Riddle turns to you with a scrutinizing look, hand on his hip.

"I suggest you find your assigned dorm before they depart. This is a large school, it would be unbecoming to lose yourself on the first day,"

Dorm? School?

You tell yourself you must be dreaming, and you say nothing, staring blankly at "Housewarden" Riddle, waiting to wake.

You don't.

He sighs. "Very well. Tell me the name of your dorm, I will bring you to your housewarden,"

You still don't wake.

"...My what?"

"Your dorm," Riddle says. His cheeks tint pink, and he looks away for a moment, taking deep breaths in and out. "Were you paying no attention during the ceremony? I know you are no student of Heartslabyul, so what is it? Ignihyde, perhaps? Scarabia? Diasomnia?"

"...I don't know what any of those words mean," you admit. "...Where am I?"

Riddle's face goes from rosy pink to ghostly white, his eyes widening.

"...Just one moment, if you please," he says to you, turning and walking to the head of his group, where Deuce Spade is gathering even more teenage boys. Riddle whispers something, and the "vice housewarden" (whatever that means) nods. The raging sea of hormones ebbs, leaving the dark, stone room.

The red-haired one, the one who thought he had recognized you, Ace, gives you a lasting look before they're gone.

Riddle then approaches another ensemble, this one headed by a white-haired boy. The Housewarden whispers something, and he nods, pushing his glasses up his nose.

That ensemble, too, leaves, and suddenly, the two boys are at your sides, and you're walking.

"Perhaps we should take them to someone sensible, first," Riddle says, speaking to the other as if you weren't there. "Perhaps Professor Trein?"

"I don't see why we should. We'll only be wasting time,"

"I'm not sure I'd like to bring this to the Headmage, Azul,"

"My, my," he (Azul?) smirks. "Look who's bending the rules now."

Riddle glares. "I'm doing nothing of the sort. I am simply being logical. You do realize this must be a practical joke, yes? Royal Sword Academy-"

"RSA wouldn't do this," Azul interrupts. "Their idea of a prank isn't reenacting the strangest thing to ever..."

He pauses, looking away for a moment. And then: "But, yes. The odds of this are quite low,"

"Perhaps Shroud should look at them,"

"Perhaps so. But whatever we do, we mustn't tell-"

"Understood,"

They stop, and you stop with them, in front of a pair of tall wooden doors.

Riddle sighs. "I must return to my dorm. It's tradition that I see to the celebration,"

Some anxious creature that had made a home for itself within you claws at your chest and cries, no, don't go, I don't know what I'm doing!

"Then, by all means," Azul says. "I don't exactly trust Jade and Floyd with the first-years, but I find this is a dire matter."

"Yes,"

"Yes, indeed,"

Still, Riddle seems reluctant to leave, lingering at your side for a few seconds longer before parting, the sound of heels clicking against stone.

Azul turns to you. "What's your name?"

You tell him. He smiles brightly. "Oh, a pleasure. I am Azul Ashengrotto. Welcome to Night Raven College,"

"I see,"

That's all he says. After your explanation, your name, your country of origin, your age, your gender, and your complete recount of the events that led you here, that's all the Headmage has to say.

"If I may, Headmage," Azul says, still at your side. "This is certainly not the strangest thing to happen at this school."

"Yes, yes, I'm well aware of that, thank you," the man says, waving a clawed hand at the boy. "But twice in two years... now, how will I ever explain this? Especially after last year's... er... incidents, our prestigious academy has suffered! Its reputation, wounded!"

Azul's bright smile seems to fade a little. "Do you truly think that's the most important thing to be considering right now?"

The Headmage, who you still had not been introduced to, scowls. "Of course not. There is the matter of lodging, food, clothing- I shudder to imagine the burden on the school's budget!"

Azul sighs. The Headmage's words of woe sit on your shoulders. Twice in two years?

"Ahem. Where will they be staying, then?" the boy asks. "I doubt if... er, the spare dorm is a wise choice. So suddenly..."

"Ah... I hadn't even considered... ahem," he drums his clawed fingers against the desk. "...Yes, yes. Ashengrotto, would it disagree with you to speak with Housewarden Vanrouge and Vice Housewarden Zigvolt? They may be more... er, sympathetic to the cause."

Azul hums. "Not a terrible idea. Of course, I would offer Octavinelle for the night, but I doubt they have anything to offer me in return... yes. I'll be back in a moment's time,"

He leaves you in the office, darkened by night and consumed by dread and the sound of claws on wood.

The Headmage is still, studying you from the depths of his mask. He says nothing.

Then: "Well... I certainly hope you won't be as much of a troublemaker as the last one,"

The doors are suddenly thrown open, slamming against the walls and making the room shudder with their weight. You can't help but jolt, eyes wide.

"WHERE!?"

"Sebek, please, volume. You're scaring them,"

The two strangers standing in the gaping maw of the doorway both look winded, but in different manners: the first, the taller, broader one, is nearly red with exertion, and the second, silver-haired and quieter, is panting.

Azul comes after them. "My apologies. They insisted on coming themselves,"

"Vanrouge, you left your dorm unattended?" the Headmage asks.

"Forgive me, but I thought this was more important," he says. "Is it really...?"

The tall, broad, loud one, Sebek, storms over. He doesn't touch you, but his stare is scrutinizing enough to make you uncomfortable where you stand.

"No," he gives his verdict, and the other's shoulders slump. "It's just as Ashengrotto said. Another one."

Another one of what, you wonder.

He sighs. "Sebek, it-it's alright. It wasn't going to be You,"

There it is again- you. Why does everyone keep saying that?

"Nonetheless, Silver..." Sebek mumbles, an unusually soft and quiet intonation.

"Nonetheless, we have been asked to host them, and so we shall. Our dorm prides itself on hospitality," Silver says. "The Thorn Fairy-"

Azul scoffs, stopping him before he can start. "Welllll, it seems all is well, now. I'll be going. Oh... one more thing. You, stranger-" he smiles right at you. "If you ever need anything... just let me know."

Silver shakes his head, and Sebek huffs. The Headmage only smiles.

"Let's go,"

You've seen a hundred strange things since yesterday, and you're sure to see a hundred more.

You had woken in a coffin, in a dark room, apparently of a college.

You had slept in a medieval castle, which you walked through a mirror to get to.

Oh, and magic is real. So are mermaids, fairies, and happily ever afters... or something like that.

And now you're here. Sitting on a picnic bench, touched by sunlight and a gentle breeze. It's almost too normal. Or so says the uneasy feeling in your stomach.

"I still don't get it," Deuce sighs. "So, they're from the same world as You, but they're not You."

The two others- Epel and Jack, their respective names almost representative of the strange and unstrange middle ground of this world- look at you.

"Maybe the same thing happened to 'em," Jack offers. "But that still doesn't explain how neither of 'em remembered getting here."

"Neither of who?" you ask, for what feels like the millionth time. And for the millionth time, no one answers.

They exchange awkward glances. They murmur under their breath. But they don't answer.

"...Anyway," Deuce mutters. "Ace has been all weird about it. He won't leave his room. And Riddle's just letting him..."

"Eh, Riddle understands. We all do,"

You drum your fingers against your knee. The uniform that had been fitted for you- made of spare parts, discolored, torn, too short in some places and too long in others- is surprisingly warm.

Epel, smaller but meaner than the others, sits at the end of the bench, arms crossed.

"Everything okay?" Deuce asks. Obviously not. Epel scowls.

"...Listen..." the Heartslabyul vicewarden starts, "This is strange for all of us. But we shouldn't be mean to them just because they're not You."

"Eh?" Epel asks, sitting up straight. "I ain't give an apple-licking hoot 'bout 'em! I'm 'talkin about my new housewarden!"

Deuce and Jack exchange glances, the latter muttering, "can't understand a thing he says since Vil left..."

"Oh... yeah, I forgot about that. Is he really that bad?"

Epel snorts. "Damn freshman waltzes in, brews one fancy poison, and now he thinks he owns the place! Vil woulda never let his attitude get by, I can tell 'ya that much!"

You tilt your head to the side, relieved to have the attention on someone else, for once. Since the oddball group of second-years had adopted you, you hadn't had a moment of peace.

"You sure you're not just bitter about losing out on the position?" Jack asks. "I get that you were Vil's first choice and all, but you lost, fair and square."

"It ain't about the poison! S'about the principle of the thing! Why should I haveta take orders from a first-year!"

Deuce shrugs. "You could still transfer to Savanaclaw, you know,"

"...Maybe not," Jack mutters. "Ever since Ruggie turned down replacing Leona as housewarden, we've been a little... er, unorderly."

"You guys still don't have a housewarden? Didn't you talk about this last year?"

"They don't, and they didn't. It made the first housewarden meeting of the semester a pain for Kalim," a cool, calm voice says from behind you. You jolt. Why does everyone in this school love coming out of nowhere?

Deuce sighs. "Oh, Jamil..." his gaze lowers to the paper bags in hand. "Doing some shopping?"

Jamil hums. "Sparingly. I only wanted to see them,"

His eyes, sharp and cautious, narrow at you. You're really tired of being stared at. Picked apart, dissected, studied, as if everyone is trying to decide if you're real or not...

"It ain't 'nothin to gawk at," Epel says. "They ain't You, can we get back to 'talking about my housewarden? He's running the dorm like it's his own personal palace! His face is all over the place!"

You find yourself strangely thankful for Epel's ire, as Jamil's sharp, critical gaze turns on him.

"You mean Quya? He seems fine. Not much different from Vil,"

"YOU TAKE THAT BACK!"

Jack rolls his eyes as the two bicker. Deuce tries to step between them, and speak "vice housewarden-to-vice housewarden" with Jamil, which only seems to annoy him more.

"This place is so weird..." you mutter, and Jack snorts. "Huh? What's funny?"

Nothing," he says, almost smiling.

"You just... man, you really sound just like them."

You don't even try to ask what he means by that. You've had enough questions for one day.

You feel uneasy walking back to Diasomnia.

It makes your stomach twist and turn. You've only been here a day, and you already remember the way back to your temporary home.

"Ahem. If we- I- fail to send you home by the end of the week, we will... er, see about moving you into the spare dorm,"

That's what he- Crowley, the Headmage- had said.

You stop, on your way to the mirror chamber, to look over the grassy hills, the beaten down paths, the dead trees and jagged rocks that decorate the lawn of the aforementioned dorm.

It's old. Decrepit. Falling apart, although you can see different planks of wood boarded over holes in the roof and walls, as if someone had been desperately trying to hold it together.

You can't fathom why anyone, Headmage and students alike, would be so protective over such a building.

There's a light in one of the windows. Soft and yellow and inviting, it's almost calling to you, luring you with its warmth.

Someone lives there already. Is that it?

You have to answer all of your own questions.

You continue walking. This place is strange, and yet familiar, somehow, too. It's as if you'd bookmarked the story at its middle rather than starting at its beginning.

In some ways, you think, this is good.

The students here talk of incidents, injuries, pain and fear that had come and gone before you. You were fortunate enough not to be caught in the storm.

And yet, still, something tells you this is only the eye of the hurricane.

Soon, rain and thunder will be at your door.

[cheapshrimpysheep]

my tiktom for some reason has been showing me kiss cam videos all the time, and i just thought about how cute it would be to have a kiss cam in NRC, so i came here to make a request of kiss cam w the first years and/or the housewardens (ill leave for u to choose since ur the writer 🤭🤭)

COMMENTS: I'm not American, so all I know about Kiss Cams is what I can find on the internet and have seen in movies or something. I think the freshmen are more likely to go to a game like this than the Housewardens, which is why I chose them. And I thought it would be more fun with them.

This also doesn't takes place in NRC, but somewhere in the stands of a game.

I hope you and all enjoy 💋

CHARACTERS: Freshmen (Ace Trappola / Deuce Spade / Jack Howl / Epel Felmier / Sebek Zigvolt)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Kiss (duh)

WORD COUNT: An average of 390 words per character

In case you don't know what this is and according to Wikipedia: “The kiss cam is a social pastime that takes place during arena, stadium and court sporting events in the United States and Canada. A 'kiss cam' camera scans the crowd, and selects a couple, their images being shown on the jumbotron screens in the arena.”

CONTEXT: All five of them would have some kind of interest in watching a game live, and of course, they really wanted you to go with them. Obviously you sit next to the guy you like the most and it seems like the Kiss Cam loves seeing the two of you together.

The break arrived and the Kiss Cam was announced. Having the Kiss Cam choose the two of you was kind of something Ace already wanted to happen. They started choosing couples and showing them on the giant screen in the middle of the stadium when Sebek asked what that was and what kind of purpose it had. Ace and the others explained to him (and to you if you weren't familiar with it either) what it was.

You see the couples on the huge screen in the center of the stadium and you notice that the camera is quite fast and imagine the pressure that the people may feel when the camera is pointed at them.

You see that most of the chosen people kissed without any problems and were laughing, having fun with it. Those who weren't couples either made a negative gesture with their hand or found a funny way to get around it, like kissing the cup of drink they had instead.

And then it happened! Ace was distracted arguing with Sebek for being boring for only complaining about that cam when you nudged him to attention. You point at the screen, he looks and see the two of you.

He was immediately flustered and laughed awkwardly. It all happened very quickly. He looked at you with that same smile, but with an encouraging vibe. Understanding that you showed no signs of opposing the kiss, he put one of his arms around your shoulders, leaned in and kissed you. It was only two or three seconds, but you felt his lips pressing against yours with some intention. People applauded.

He'll keep his arm around you and watch your reaction. When he sees you smile and lean toward him, he'll lean back in his chair and let you lean against him however you want. He won't take his arm off you for the rest of the game.

“What? Jealous?” He smirks at the other four who are looking at you in disbelief. And he'll even kiss you on the cheek again to intensify their shock.

After the game he would receive a nosy call from his brother.

The break arrived and the Kiss Cam was announced. They started choosing couples and showing them on the giant screen in the middle of the stadium when Sebek asked what that was and what kind of purpose it had. Deuce and the others explained to him (and to you if you weren't familiar with it either) what it was.

You see the couples on the screen and notice that the camera is quite fast and imagine the pressure that the people may feel when the camera is pointed at them.

You see that most of the chosen people kissed without any problems and were laughing, having fun with it. Those who weren't couples either made a negative gesture with their hand or found a funny way to get around it, like kissing the cup of drink they had instead.

And then it happened! Deuce was distractedly agreeing with Sebek about it being a bit intrusive when you nudged him to attention. You point at the screen, he looks and see the two of you.

Deuce was immediately flustered and embarrassed! People around you encouraged you to kiss. Even Ace messed with Deuce, insinuating that he didn't have the courage, not even for a kiss on the cheek. It was then that you felt a quick and shy kiss on your cheek.

But people wanted more because they realized you liked each other and everything was happening very quickly. However, Deuce didn't want to move forward because he didn't know if you wanted too. He's not very good at understanding your signals. So you're the one who leans over and kisses him. People applauded.

This makes him petrify in surprise. He blinks several times until he finally looks at you. When he sees you smiling, he smiles back and can't stop himself from kissing you back. Not because of the camera, because they had already passed on to another couple, but for himself.

“OI! It's done! The camera is no longer on you.” Ace said in a 'get a room' kind of tone.

Deuce suddenly straightened up as if he had come back to reality and felt a little embarrassed, but he didn't regret it at all.

After the game he would receive an excited call from his mother.

The break arrived and the Kiss Cam was announced. They started choosing couples and showing them on the giant screen in the middle of the stadium when Sebek asked what that was and what kind of purpose it had. Jack and the others explained to him (and to you if you weren't familiar with it either) what it was.

You see the couples on the screen and notice that the camera is quite fast and imagine the pressure that the people may feel when the camera is pointed at them.

You see that most of the chosen people kissed without any problems and were laughing, having fun with it. Those who weren't couples either made a negative gesture with their hand or found a funny way to get around it, like kissing the cup of drink they had instead.

And then it happened! Jack was distractedly agreeing with Sebek about it being a bit intrusive when you nudged him to attention. You point at the screen, he looks and see the two of you.

Jack’s ears immediately lowered in surprise and flusteredness. He rubs the back of his neck when he sees you looking at him, waiting to see what he would do. With all that pressure mixed with your expectant gaze and his desire to do it, he placed one of his hands on the back of your neck and kissed you. People applauded.

It was a quick kiss, one or two seconds, but very affectionate. However he remained embarrassed, he was not a fan of public displays of affection. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, looking away from you and down at the floor.

Ace and Epel started messing with him until you leaned on his shoulder. Only then did Jack's tail start wagging. Now rest assured that the feelings were mutual he put an arm around you.

After the game he would most likely receive an excited and curious call from his parents.

The break arrived and the Kiss Cam was announced. They started choosing couples and showing them on the giant screen in the middle of the stadium when Sebek asked what that was and what kind of purpose it had. Epel himself knew little about it because he had never been to one of those stadiums and had only heard about it, so he was one of those who listened to the explanations of others.

You see the couples on the screen and notice that the camera is quite fast and imagine the pressure that the people may feel when the camera is pointed at them.

You see that most of the chosen people kissed without any problems and were laughing, having fun with it. Those who weren't couples either made a negative gesture with their hand or found a funny way to get around it, like kissing the cup of drink they had instead.

And then it happened! Epel was distractedly agreeing with Sebek that it was a stupid thing that served no purpose other than being embarrassing when you nudged him to attention. You pointed at the screen, he looked and saw the two of you. Epel practically jumped in his chair.

“WHAT IN TARNATION?! ARE YOU FREAKIN’ KIDDIN’ ME?!”

At first he is completely against it until you look at him and he realizes that the pair the camera chose for him was you. At that moment he fell silent and pondered, blushing. The people around were encouraging him and you were looking at him with an expectant look yourself. With all that adrenaline he simply leaned in and kissed you almost abruptly. People applauded.

It was a relatively quick kiss, a second or two, and then he straightened up again, all his muscles tense and his face flushed. You couldn't help but giggle, finding it cute. He sulked seeing you laugh at him.

“Hey! At least I didn't chicken-”

You shut him up and reassure him with a kiss of your own. When you broke the kiss he was still looking at you in surprise, but with a new confident glint in his eyes. He laughs and puts an arm around you to hug you.

After the game, two calls will clash to reach Epel's phone: one from his grandmother and the other from Rook.

The break arrived and the Kiss Cam was announced. They started choosing couples and showing them on the giant screen in the middle of the stadium when Sebek asked what that was and what kind of purpose it had. The others explained to him (and to you if you weren't familiar with it either) what it was.

You see the couples on the screen and notice that the camera is quite fast and imagine the pressure that the people may feel when the camera is pointed at them.

You see that most of the chosen people kissed without any problems and were laughing, having fun with it. Those who weren't couples either made a negative gesture with their hand or found a funny way to get around it, like kissing the cup of drink they had instead.

And then it happened! Sebek was distracted arguing, mainly with Ace, about it being just another stupid human custom with no purpose or sense when you nudged him to attention. You pointed at the screen, he looked and saw the two of you.

 Sebek almost jumped in his chair, but he was firm in putting his foot down (almost literally) and refusing. At first. He couldn't have been more sure that he didn't want to take part in that nonsense, until he saw the way you looked at him. Suddenly an indestructible pillar of certainty wavered, realizing that the pair the camera had chosen for him was you.

People were already booing sadly until they saw him hesitate and go back to trying to encourage him to kiss you. Only now had he begun to blush.

After that, everything happened very quickly. He looked at you with his arms crossed from before, now undecided whether to keep his decision or not, and the pressure from the people was joined by Ace and Epel, insinuating that he didn't even have the courage to give you a kiss on the cheek.

Seeing from your expression that you were not objecting, he said: “VERY WELL THEN!” Held your head by the chin with one hand and kissed you decisively. People applauded.

It was a relatively quick kiss, a second or two, but you could feel his passion on his lips. However, when he broke the kiss, he didn't take his face away from yours for a good while, letting you admire his piercingly navy green eyes for a moment.

He straightened up and crossed his arms again as he suddenly remembered he was in public. He looked away from yours and chose to close his eyes instead of simply looking down or ahead.

“There! I partook of your silly ritual.”

The others will tease him until you reach out to give him a kiss on the cheek and he widens his eyes in surprise. Despite this, he will continue to contain himself, but will allow you to lean on him however you want.

After the game he will receive an extremely curious call from Lilia.

If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[rowdydevs]

𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬? | 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐔 & 𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛

𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚛!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙰𝚌𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚌𝚂𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚛!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

✨💕 𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕜 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝟜𝕜! ���✨

c/w - swearing, smut, oral male receiving, cum play, jealousy, possessive!rafe, ownership kink, pet names

Reader’s POV:

"How much time do we have, Mr. Cameron?"

"Before next class, princess? Not a lot..." Rafe chuckles sinfully. “Fuck Jack. That kid’s gettin’ an F.”

“Stop,” you giggle.

“Make me,” he chuckles. “Literally give me a reason to stop thinkin’ about it. ‘Cause I'm this close—”

“To what?” You whisper against his lips.

“From killin’ someone, honestly.”

"Let me suck your cock, baby. You like that…” You smile innocently, your words contradicting your tone.

“Like it?” He chuckles as he pulls you in a little closer, smiling against your lip. “I love it.” You brush your fingers against his bulge, already growing hard in his slacks.

Rafe tugs at the buttons of your satin shirt, slipping it off your shoulders onto the floor as you work on his. He looks down at you hungrily as you stand before him in your pretty little bra and skirt. Rafe leans down for a kiss, nose nuzzling against yours.

“I love feeling you on my tongue—”

"Oh yeah? That's what you want?" The man hums against your lips.

"That's all I want."

"Fuck, baby. Please." He whispers between little kisses. Rafe wraps his big arms around you tighter, kissing you deeply. His tongue slips between your lips, swirling with yours. You claim his lips one last time, moving to his jaw, a little further to his neck, leaving a trail of sparkly pink lipgloss in your wake. Your professor’s beautiful blue eyes follow the markings, lowering with you, eyeing you as you drop to your knees, looking up at him through your lashes.

Slipping your fingers under the bra straps, you slide them off your shoulders, gazing at the beautiful man towering above you. You drift your hands up to your cleavage, delicately drawing them over the top. Reaching your nipples, you trace small circles over the fabric, teasing the man further. "So fucking perfect, baby… Holy shit," he mumbles. Taking his cock in your hand, you pump slowly, your other hand massaging your breast.

"You looked too good today, baby," Rafe breathes as you slide your fingers under the lace of your bra slowly, toying with your nipple. Rafe's mesmerized, watching you play with the both of you at the same time. His eyes float slowly between the two of you. "Drives me crazy how those boys in class look at you. Hate that they don't know you're mine.”

"I don't care about them, baby. You know that," you breathe against his dick as he shuts his eyes, focused more on your touch than the words coming from your lips.

"Sweetheart. Oh my god," he moans. "They can flirt all they want. You're mine-"

"I'm yours, baby.”

“If they only knew," he smiles as he throws his head back. “If they only knew what you were doin’ right now... Maybe they’d know who you belong to.”

“You think that would help, baby?” You ask coyly as you stroke his fat cock, looking up at the older man from your knees.

“God… No. Not with you lookin’ like this. Just more of a reason for them to want you all for themselves…”

Your hand retreats, moving to your back, unclasping your bra with a single hand. The lacey material falls to his feet, pulling his full focus to you again. You continue to touch your chest as you stroke his cock, pressing your cleavage together, twisting your nipple. His breathing increases with each passing second as he watches you. "This cock is mine too," you whisper against his hard flesh, making goosebumps flare across his tanned skin.

"My cock is all yours, baby. Shittt... N'this mouth is mine." His breath catches in his chest as you brush your tongue from side to side on his tip, Rafe, looking at you through half-lidded eyes, trying his best to keep them open.

"All yours, Daddy."

"Ugh, that's it," he breathes as you swirl your tongue around his tip, collecting his precum, showing him the mess before slapping his fat cock against your lips. "Goddamn..." A deep moan rumbles in Rafe's chest as you wrap your lips around his dick, taking him to the back of your throat, drawing off slowly, squeezing your lips, leaving little lip gloss rings behind. "Just beautiful, pretty," he sighs, eyeing the mess. "Been thinkin' about that for hours. Such a fuckin’ slut f'me, huh?”

“Mhmm… Mmm,” you moan around his dick, making him grip the edge of his desk, his toes curling in his dress shoes.

You bob back and forth slowly and sloppily, using your hand to stroke where your mouth can't reach. Your other hand gropes his skin, tracing up his body. Hollowing your cheeks causes his abs to flex under your hand as you increase your suction. You can tell he's about to lose control. Pulling off slowly, you wrap your fingers around his cock. You stroke quickly, breasts bouncing with each thrust of the hand.

"Fuck, baby. Mpfhh… You look so damn good. Shit. I'm gonna cum," he groans.

"Yeah?" You whisper. "You gonna cum for me, Daddy?"

"Shittt… Yeah, princess. I'm gonna cum all over you..." You return your lips to his cock, throating him like only you can, gagging when you take as much of him as you can get. Rafe's brows pinch together, thighs clenching. You feel his cock swell and twitch on your tongue. "Ugh... Fuck," He moans, huskily. You pull him out of your mouth fast, pumping rapidly. Rafe's mouth falls open, eyes rolling back.

He cums on your tits, ropes of pearlescent white landing on your breasts. He watches carefully as you milk the last bits of pleasure from him. He lets out a satisfied sigh—a wide smile settles on his lips as he tilts his head up to the ceiling again.

"God, I fucking love you," he groans.

"I love you too, baby."

Rafe helps you to your feet— his lips pressing against yours, kissing you breathlessly. "Come over tonight, yeah?" He hums, the satisfaction dripping in his tone. Rafe brushes your hair off your face, cupping your cheeks, giving you a sweet kiss on the lips.

His rough thumb brushes across your nipple, gathering some of his sticky spent before lifting it to your mouth. Rafe rubs your pillowy lips before stuffing it inside, urging you to suck him clean.

You release him from your mouth with a pop. “Still a little messy, baby,” Rafe mumbles through a smirk. “Too bad we’re not at home.” He reaches over, snagging out his pocket square from his plaid blazer, cleaning off the rest before helping you back into your button-down. “We could take a shower. Hell, I coulda licked that shit up… spit it in that perfect little mouth of yours,” he mumbles, lips ghosting over the top of yours while he pinches your cheeks in his big hand, pressing a kiss on your lips instead.

“Tonight, please,” you smile.

“All night.” Rafe reaches for his black button-down, glossy marks still littered on his chest and abs. His cock still a tad bit messy as well.

"Aren't you gonna clean up," you giggle breathily as you brush his toned skin with your manicured finger, thumbing over a sticky kiss mark.

"These?" He asks, as he follows the stains with a smile. "Not a chance."

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Bad Guy x Reader

I am currently in my Natural Born Killers nostalgia, and so I'm borrowing its vibes and bringing you this: a bad-to-the-bone, rock-and-roll attitude yandere who constantly makes you question your own morality. Featuring an old OC!

Content: gender neutral reader, violence, murder, male yandere

He fell in love with you at first sight. A goody two shoes, quiet and obedient. Shy. Oh, terribly shy. You couldn't even meet his eyes. He knew you were the kind others would step on, take advantage of. But there was more to it, much more to uncover.

Who was it? A relative, a friend, a coworker? You know, that person holding you back, keeping you in your place. The one who'd always make you feel small and insignificant. The one who would always find something to criticize. How did it feel when you found them on the ground, bashed in and bloodied up? He was standing above the lifeless body, catching his breath, a cocky smile plastered on his face. His way of courting you.

He looked so tall in that moment, towering above your hesitant self, his gaze of a confidence and intensity you'd never known before. "Well? What are you waiting for? Get in", he said, gesturing towards a convertible he most likely stole earlier that day. What possessed you in that moment to join him without delay? Was it his charisma? Or did you know in the depth of your soul that he wouldn't take no for an answer?

You see, he's known it from the beginning. Someone like you needs someone like him. You’re a sweet little lamb lost among the wolves. The world would eat you right up if you were left by yourself. But now you have him. And he won't let his precious prey get away. Oh, dear, no. If he wants something, he gets it. And he's never wanted anything more than you.

"You didn't...even tell me your name", you sheepishly spoke up from the passenger seat, trying to keep your mind away from the crime you'd just witnessed. "Just call me Tig", he said casually with a yawn, speeding away. "Won't you be in trouble, Tig? Why would you even kill-" you tried to reason. "What kinda question is that? They treated you like shit and it pissed me off." He glanced at you with a frown, taking another drag off his cigarette. "You're mine now, so whatever happens to you is my business. Got it?" You just stared. Was that his way of asking you out?

Tig lives by his own rules, as you quickly learned from becoming his companion. Always on the run, indifferent to the world. For the most part, to your surprise, he's well-behaved. If people don't mess with him, he doesn't mess with them. Simple as that.

Anything involving you, however, sets him off terribly. Like a rabid, ferocious guard dog, he's ready to pounce on whoever approaches you the wrong way. Last week you stopped at a highway diner for coffee, and on your way back to your table, you jokingly pulled a clumsy dance move to the song playing from the speakers. Tig observed you with an amused smile, sipping from his cup. A passerby joined you, resting his arm on your waist flirtatiously. Tig's smile dropped in an instant, and next thing you knew, the whole place was splattered in blood. No one made it out.

"I didn't even finish my coffee", you whined, already used to the occasional massacre. The man hopped behind the counter and threw on a bloodied cap. "What will it be, sir/ma'am?" he pretended, dangling a takeaway cup and starting the espresso machine. "I never told you, but I used to be a barista", he declared proudly. An entirely different person from the unhinged killer you witnessed minutes ago. "What? You said you were a mechanic", you questioned with raised brows. "That's also true. I'm a jack of all trades, I suppose. You know what I'm best at, though?" He lowered himself until his forehead touched yours. "Pleasing you."

The man is romantic in his own way. He twists the key, and the engine stops. You follow him out of the car in confusion. "Why did we stop here?" He briefly lifts himself up onto the tall fence securing the bridge, and inhales deeply. "Isn't it a nice view?" he says, nodding ahead. It is a scenic sight, sure. The river slithers along the lush valley, and the setting sun gives everything a dramatic tint. "Give me your hand", he suddenly demands as he goes to grab it himself. Before you can ask for an explanation, he quickly drags a blade across your palm, and you wince in pain. He repeats the gesture with his own hand, locking his fingers with yours over the rail. You watch as fresh blood trails along your skin, eventually falling into droplets and vanishing into the river. "Now we're going to be everywhere", he remarks playfully. "Okay, but what was the point?" you insist, a little baffled.

"Isn't it obvious? Maybe this will help", he continues, procuring a ring from his pocket. "I'm saying I want to marry you, (Y/N)."

You open your mouth to answer, but he already slides it up your finger, eyes glimmering in excitement.

"You're never getting away from me, love."

[hoe4hotchner]

hii! i had a really troll thought and was wondering how hotch would respond to the reader just casually referring to him as a dilf. maybe they're just talking to the other members of the team and he happens to walk by and is just like 🤨 what did you just call me?

Hear me out! I'm a gremlin so what if we make it bearded Hotch 🤤. (Also tbh Jack not liking the beard was my 13th reason, I'm gonna beat that kid up)

Like ughh look at him 😍

"Penny, Penny! Have you seen Hotch today?" You practically drooled on the floor as you burst into her little tech-filled cave. Penelope was the only person in the entire office who could match your level of unhinged thoughts when it came to men, and you knew she’d never tease you for it.

Penelope grinned knowingly, keeping her secret that Hotch was quietly standing in the doorway behind you, having come in just after you.

"He looks so scrumptious today. What a total DILF."

"Excuse me? What did you just call me?" A deep voice resonated from behind. You spun around, eyes wide in horror, only to find your boss standing there with his arms crossed, an amused but questioning expression on his face.

"I... I—" You stammered, completely frozen in shock that he’d overheard you. "I'm so sorry, sir."

Penelope, ever the quick thinker, jumped in to try and save you. "What (Y/N) is trying to say is: keep the beard. It really suits you."

Hotch chuckled, his stern demeanor softening. "Well, Jack’s not a fan, so it’s going."

"NOOOO!" you yelped, louder than you intended, immediately slapping a hand over your mouth as your eyes widened in embarrassment. To your surprise, Hotch winked at you, clearly in a rare, playful mood.

brb, I became a little too much of a feral gremlin in the process. I'm gonna go dump my head in a bucket of ice.

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

I'm curious about the if scenario of player who snuck away from platonic yandere Doey.

How would Doey or the three personalities react if player sneaks out of the safe haven but dies or gets badly hurt for some reason and Doey finds it?

If this makes you uncomfortable, it's okay to ignore

Oh, this is going to be sad. You have been warned!

If you like my work, please consider commissioning me or leaving a tip on Ko-fi (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Yandere Doey & badly injured Player

★ Doey was frustrated when he discovered you had snuck away. When he found you, his heart sank. You were slumped over in one of the interrogation rooms, badly hurt. But thankfully nobody else had found you, if someone had, you would've been eaten by now.

★ Matthew, the most "grown up" of the three, was the first to react in any meiningful way. "We need to help them. Now!" He can't help but blame himself for not keeping a closer watch on you. Doesn't help that Kevin shares his opinion.

★ Kevin's first reaction is to try and find someone or something to blame. "How could they do this?!?" He shouts at Mathew. Lashing out at him because he is the closest target. His rage, however, quickly fades as Doey begins to look you over.

★ Being the most emotional, Jack tries to let Mathew and Kevin take charge. But as he sobbed uncontrollably, his tears left through Doey's eyes. "Please don't be mad at me" he thinks. When you feel better, he will need some hugs.

★ He hadn't been able to protect you, and now you were suffering because of it. As the days passed, he barely left your side. Slightly paranoid that if he looks away, you'll try to leave again. And trust me, that won't be happening.

★ At night, when the others in the Safe Haven were resting, Doey stayed awake. The feeling of inadequacy loomed over them all. When you stirred in your sleep he was immediately by your side. Ready to comfort you if you woke up.

★ Whenever you speak about leavening, Jack's personality shines through. His eyes well up and tug at your heartstrings in a way that’s impossible to ignore. “Please don’t go. I don’t… I can’t see you hurt again.”

★ Matthew tries to balance Jack's emotions with logical arguments. "Do you remember what happened last time?" And "We can't protect you if you keep running off." He would say, his voice steady.

★ Being the last resort, Kevin will turn to fear in an effort to keep you safe. "Do you want to end up like last time?" he would ask, his voice lower and more threatening than usual. "We can't protect you if you keep running off." His tone was harsh, but there was an unmistakable fear in his words.

[mysteryshoptls]

SR Jamil Viper - New Year's Attire Voice Lines

New Year's Attire Jamil does not have a vignette.

Summon: This is the perfect day to welcome in the new year. Now, look around at our wares to your heart's content. If you need it, I can even give you a tour.

Groovification: ＴＡＫＯＡＧＥ requires the ability to read both the wind and the foe's movements. It can't be won just by using cheap tricks.

Home: Stylish, no?

Home Transition 1: Looks like it's time for me to take a break. I got a message from Kalim a short while ago, so I need to check what he sent... I sure hope it isn't anything dire.

Home Transition 2: It's much easier to move around in this outfit than I thought. With how black it is, it absorbs the sun's rays, keeping me warm outside, too.

Home Transition 3: Jack's not going to listen to anything the rival team says, huh? He's a little too stubborn, isn't he? I would have liked that he'd at least listen to any suggestions I had on how he could improve his conduce.

Home Transition - Login: A Happy New Year to you. This time of the year sure can get chilly... especially in the early morning and late evenings. We should keep moving to keep ourselves warm.

Home Transition - Groovy: It's a nice change of pace to do different work from my usual tasks. It's also given me a better know-how on working through busier moments.

Home Tap 1: A shopping list is great to have to cut back on any unnecessary purchases. However... You won't be needing one today. Here, you should buy as much as your little heart wants.

Home Tap 2: While I was attending the register, Malleus-senpai asked me how it was possible that it didn't break when I used it. Well, there's no known reason for that... wouldn't you say?

Home Tap 3: When we have any issues or complaints, no other staff member is better at handling them than Floyd. You think he goes overboard sometimes? Hmmm, I'm afraid I don't know what you mean.

Home Tap 4: When you pick something up, I'd like it if you'd put it back in its designated place. Small incidents like that can add up, making our work to clear it up more tedious.

Home Tap 5: While working here, I've found I'm always shocked whenever we have a polite customer come in. Especially since during a sale, most often you'd see a ton of over-the-top folks.

Home Tap - Groovy: You want to challenge me to a ＴＡＫＯＡＧＥ battle? Haha, you went out of your way to help me improve my sales numbers, huh. How nice of you.

Requested by @farfalla049.

[luveline]

idk if you would write for this I checked your guidelines and wasn’t sure but I would LOVE a pregnancy scare with Aaron (May be reader is younger than him?)! And she’s just panicked bc he’s older and already has a kid and etc and the test can be pos or neg totally up to you!

thank you for requesting! 1.3k, fem (possibly) pregnant!reader

cw reader's and hotch's attitude towards pregnancy is mostly positive

Your period is twelve days late. 

That is not a small amount of time. 

You don't notice it at first, and when you do you figure it's a few extra days without an irksome pain, a balm to soothe the ache of your absent boyfriend and a hard job, but when Aaron comes home from a case and you still haven't started your period, the panic begins to set in. 

You have a hard time keeping things from him for obvious reasons. His being a human lie detector felt fascinating when you first met, but now it's making things worse. You would've liked some time to yourself for denial, only he can always tell when something is wrong, though it's clear to you he's not sure exactly what it is. He'll realise eventually, you know. 

"Let's go to the store," he suggests, his hand flirting with the back of your neck. "You always feel better after a sweet treat." 

You've been to the store today, unbeknownst to him, for some emotional support chocolates and a small box you'd rather not think about. You'd hoped that he might get called away to give you time to open it, but without him you're not sure you have the strength. 

You hadn't expected to feel this way. You want desperately to tell him, but you're just so, so scared. 

"I don't feel like going anywhere." 

He hums as his hand moves to your shoulder, squeezing a loving path down to your hand. Jack bangs a toy down in his bedroom across the way, and the washing machine spinning from the utility closet sounds louder than it ever has before, like a rocket about to erupt. You don't know what it is that gets you, but suddenly you're overwhelmed, a confession stuck in the back of your throat as Aaron meets your panicked gaze. 

"What's wrong?" he asks. "Here, honey, sit down." 

He guides you to a kitchen chair. 

"What's wrong?" he asks again, bending at the waist. 

Your head rushes with white noise for a second. You wet your chapped lips with the tip of your tongue; you've missed your period, but it isn't that alone that scares you. Perhaps in an instance of a psychosomatic symptom, you feel weird, other. Something has changed. And you're starting to feel sick. 

"Aaron, I don't know what to do," you say. 

His eyes widen with an expression you don't often see. "Has something happened?" 

It's so, so hard to say. "I think I've messed up." 

"Not in any way I can't fix." 

"Maybe I have," you say miserably, panic hot behind your eyes. 

He shakes his head. "You haven't. I swear you haven't. Please, tell me what's wrong before I have a heart attack." 

You can't say it while he's looking at you, and when you do it's hardly audible. "I think I'm pregnant," you breathe. 

Aaron pauses. You can't even raise your head, anxiety its own heartbeat and nausea rising fast. You let out a gasp you'd held in and try to calm down, even while every little part of you worries about what he's going to say. 

You don't know if you want to be pregnant, or have a baby, but you know it would probably break your heart just a touch if Aaron didn't want to have one with you. You're not sure why. And Jack is a beautiful kid but he's growing up. Aaron isn't young. 

"How sure are you?" he asks, tone completely measured. 

"I… I feel it," you say. "I know that's stupid… 'N my period is really late, nearly two weeks now." 

"You feel it?" 

"I feel sick." Your elbows on your thighs and the backs of your hands pressed to your eyes, you curl in on yourself. "I'm so scared." 

"You're scared?" Hands on your forearms. Aaron gets down on his knees in front of your chair and rubs fondness into your skin, his voice a soothing, familiar comfort as he says, "Sweetheart, you have nothing to be scared of. Don't be scared. I'm right here." 

Tears like a shock, relief and horror mixed into one. "I'm so stupid, I haven't even taken the test yet, I don't know why I'm acting this way." 

"We all react differently to foreign situations than how we might imagine. What's important now is that you take a breath, because otherwise you'll panic." 

While you're afraid of what he's thinking, you trust him implicitly. "Okay." 

"Okay," he says, pulling your hands away from your face. "Just breathe, honey." 

He's more patient than you knew another person could be. He wipes your straggling tears with his hand without a word, his breath coming in even inhales and exhales for you to follow. The small spike of panic swiftly melds to plain old tears. You're embarrassed. You're unhappy. You and Aaron certainly weren't trying for this occasion. 

"What are you scared of?" he asks eventually. 

"Of you. Of what you're thinking, and– and what if I– I mean, what if I'm pregnant?" you ask, as though pregnant is a new word. When you said it at first, you'd meant, what if we end up having a baby together? But now you're more inclined to think about the process itself. What if you're physically pregnant? 

"Well, you have absolutely no reason to be scared of me. I love you." Aaron puts his hand just under your ear, his thumb to your cheek. "Whatever happens. Nothing else matters to me besides you." 

"Because you want a baby," you say unhappily. 

"Who says I don't?" He smiles at you softly. "I think we should've had this conversation a long time ago, but the long and short of it is that I love you. I love you and I'll do what you need me to." 

"I figured you'd be done having babies," you say, still hesitant. 

"Evidently not." He laughs, and you laugh back and he acts like you've hung the moon. "If you're scared of being pregnant, maybe you should take the test before you wind yourself up, hm?" 

"I guess I'm acting pretty silly, huh?" you ask, sniffling and wiping your eyes, the two of you caught in breathy laughter again. 

"Hormonal, maybe," he says. "Don't be scared. I don't want you to be scared." 

"What do you want?" you ask. 

"I just want you to stop crying. It's not right…" He strokes your damp cheek. "If I'm honest? If you take that test, and you aren't pregnant, or if you don't want to have a baby," —his face is calm, a small smile playing on his lips— "then I don't want you to, either." 

"But if I am?" you ask. 

"Then I will be so, so happy, because it's you." 

A missed period isn't necessarily indicative of pregnancy, and you could be freshly pregnant or four whole weeks and the test could still come out negative. Maybe your weird feeling is indigestion. Whatever happens, you really believe that the man in front of you is here for whatever answer you find. 

"I love you."

"I love you, too," he says, bone deep sincerity turned to something lighter, fondly teasing as he lifts himself up and hugs you close. "You know that." 

You let him hold you for a little while, calming down, looking at the positives and all your options. "You think Jack would be happy?" 

"He'd love a brother or sister… eventually." 

You wipe your tears and runny nose in his shirt and he does you the generosity of pretending not to notice. If you are going to have anyone's baby, you'd want it to be his. 

[unlosts]

Hi! I love your work! I saw that you had requests open, so could I request something with Hotch and the reader having to share a room for a case? I'm a sucker for awkward moments and pining so could this be like pre-relationship? And maybe the reader has to ask for a shirt or sweatpants because their own pajamas aren't very appropriate.

Thank you! ❤️ (feel free to ignore it if you don't want to write it)

Thank you for the request!

Word count: Just slightly over 2k.

A/N: MDNI! not super anything but I would feel better lol. Also the ending is me chickening out, but I don't rule out a part 2 either.

“Overbooked?” You ask the concierge in disbelief. 

“I’m afraid so, it means that, unfortunately the hot-” He starts with an apologetic twist of his mouth, but you put a hand up to cut him off, already feeling a migraine beginning to form. 

“I know what it means” You say exasperated. In the short run from the car to the hotel the storm had soaked your clothes making them stick to you uncomfortably, the heat of the lobby doing absolutely nothing to fight back the chill seeping into your bones. 

Your soaking wet duffel bag hangs heavy on your shoulder forming a small ring of water on the red carpet. The people in line behind you huffing in impatience not helping matters at all. 

A drop of water running from the back of your neck through your spine made you shiver uncomfortably. 

The combined feeling of discomfort and exhaustion is making your patience run thin, and the realization that you had no place to sleep tonight was about to bring you to tears in front of the obnoxious family of four right behind you. 

“Don’t you guys have like another hotel or something nearby?” You ask, already knowing the answer by the look of pity the concierge shots you. 

“ma’am I’m sorry but -” 

Before you can cut him off once more you feel a warm palm softly touch your arm, and Hotch appears right by you. Your shoulders drop in relief knowing he’ll fix it. The thought feels silly, It’s not as if Hotch can build you another room but for some reason you’re sure that he’ll find a work around. 

“Is there an issue here?” He asks, his stature and still pristine, and somehow dry, suit more imposing than the drenched racoon look you ended up with. 

“As I was telling her there was a mix up with the reservations and, unfortunately, we don’t have an available room for her” The concierge - Paul - says probably feeling just as relieved as you are to be talking to Hotch. 

“Not here” Paul keeps going before Hotch can ask “nor in any of our other nearby branches. It’s the National Taxidermists Association Convention” He adds with an awkward smile. 

“Did you hear that? I may not have a room but the dead and stuffed deer certainly does” You add unhelpfully. 

“I understand” Hotch says before turning back to you and softly guiding you towards the side  “It’s alright, we’ll just rearrange the rooms” 

“It’s eleven PM, besides Pen said everyone got their own room tonight so it’s not like anyone will have the space” You say petulantly before looking back at him, already apologetic for snapping. 

“I'm sorry, my duffle got ruined because I bought this shitty one instead of my usual so everything's probably soaked, I feel like this shirt is painted on and I'm pretty sure one of the creepy taxidermists was checking me out so I'm honestly not having the greatest night.” 

You were all there for a negotiation seminar, which in hindsight made the fact that a dead squirrel got a room before you more humiliating. 

Hotch only looks at you patiently “it's alright” he repeated, briefly touching your shoulder “We can just share my room” 

Suddenly self conscious, the last thing you wanted was to put him out when all he probably wanted to do was talk to Jack and pass out, alone, in his own room. But he must have read it on your face because before you could make up an excuse he picks up your go bag and adds “It would make me feel better knowing you're near by and not in some motel, especially tonight.” 

As if to back him up, thunder suddenly struck, loud and impossible to ignore. 

“Okay,” you agree, going for the elevator “but you're not taking the couch” 

“Am I that transparent?” He asks as you both wait for the doors to open, along with some of the other guests and their suspiciously big suitcases. You try really hard not think of what's in them. 

“Sorry, it's the whole Connecticut WASPy manners thing, you’d probably rather get a creek on your neck sleeping on the floor just because it's more polite” You say with a shrug of your shoulder. 

Before he could reply the doors opening, everyone flooding in making you press your back against Hotch, his arm went to your waist to keep you steady after a man not much older than you almost rolled his suitcase over your feet. 

The heat of him behind you and his hand on your front made your stomach clench, it took all of your willpower not to lean back, the thought of him pressing up against you makes your eyes close briefly, his chest almost touching your back with every breath.

It feels like hours pass before you can step into the hallway keenly aware of Hotch just a step behind you. 

Stepping into the room the first thing you notice is the queen sized bed, the plush  hotel comforter drawing you in. You discard your shoes somewhere by the closet, uncaring of where they land.

“You can take the first shower” Hotch says, entering leaving both of your bags by the door “better warm up before you catch a cold” The thought feels entirely caring and entirely Hotch but the suggestion brings a more pressing issue to the front of your mind.

“um” you say, widening your eyes at the realization that you have nothing to wear “everything I have is soaked, like fresh out the washer before the dryer kind of soaked, you don't happen to have a spare set of pj's in there do you?” 

He doesn't reply, just goes over to his bag and hands you a small pile of clothing “you go ahead, I'll go down with your clothes and see if laundry service is still open, wouldn't want you showing up tomorrow in a hotel bathrobe” he says with a smile and before you can protest he's off with your duffle bag. Leaving you alone with this uncomfortable feeling in your chest. 

Once inside the bathroom you go through the clothing, the first thing you pick up from the pile is a threadbare dark blue GWU sweatshirt, soft in a way only a well loved item can be, and you can't help but take the collar up to your nose and taking in the fresh laundry smell and the remnants of his cologne still lingering in the fabric.

By the time you come out, swimming in his sweatshirt and a pair of too long sweatpants, toweling your hair, Hotch is back sans your bag, laying back in bed on the side closest to the door. Surfing through static after static channel on the TV, his head pillowed on the back of his arm. 

“There goes movie night, I guess” you joke walking over to the bed “which side of the bed do you want”

Without getting up he says “this one’s fine” 

At that you snort “that's such a guy thing” 

“Sorry?” 

“The whole sleeping next to the door in case someone comes in” 

“You say that now but by the time a guy in a deer mask comes through the door you'll be glad I picked it” 

“well how chivalrous of you” You smile at him leaning on the bathroom door. 

He smiles back lopsided and a little boyish, his dimples peeking through “It’s those pesky WASP manners rearing their head.”

Hotch looks back at you for a moment from his side of the bed “I hope the shirt is comfortable”

“It’s great, thanks” 

He clears his throat “It suits you”

Warmth spreads from the tips of your fingers all the way up your chest where a pleasant weight settles. 

You sit criss crossed next him to change the channel to something watchable before your mouth wins over your brain and you say something stupid. As you reach over him, fishing for the remote on the nightstand you miscalculate and your hand slips on the bed sheets, toppling you over on top of him, leaving you nose to nose. Close enough to count his eyelashes. 

You quickly sit back up but upon your haste you both move up at the same time, falling back into him as your hands find purchase in his chest. You feel the rise and fall of every breath he takes, the thrum of his heart matching yours. Your eyes lock again as his hands circle your waist to keep from falling from the bed and into the floor. 

“Shit” You whisper “I’m so sorry Hotch” But it’s hard to be when you’re encased in his arms, feeling the muscle of his chest underneath your fingertips as his big, calloused hands burn a mark on your back. 

“It’s alright” He says in a tone matching your own. 

With his help you sit back up and he hands you the remote you were looking for. Tucking an errand strand of hair behind your ear you put on a random channel. 

A black and white movie plays on in the background as you look at him, the faint glow from the TV casting moving shadows across his face, suddenly highlighting his strong brow or straight nose. 

Your breathing matches his, suddenly the low light of the bedside lamp reminds you of candlelight, a gossamer filter cast over you. 

As you’re about to speak, not really knowing what you were actually going to say he breaks the silence first  by standing up and heading to the bathroom to shower.  

It feels impossible to know Hotch, what he’s thinking or feeling, you want to unspool his thoughts, display them out like a film reel for your viewing pleasure. Know him as intimately as you sometimes feel he knows you. 

You’re  settled back in bed, still lost in thought, by the time the water cuts off he comes out in plaid blue pants and a white t-shirt smelling like soap  fresh laundry. His hair still damp and shirt collar askew like he dressed in a hurry. 

Hesitating for a few seconds before peeling back the covers and getting in, his body heat right next to you, a contrast against your cold skill, the cold never having left you. Immediately making you shiver despite the thicker sweatshirt. 

Hotch clears his throat again, more out of embarrassment from what he’s about to do, and it’s odd to see him like this. You’re used to seeing him be sure of himself, unflinching in the face of murderers, government officials and incensed police captains alike. 

It’s an alien feeling seeing him blush, or hesitate before speaking, it only serves to deepen your fondness for him, it makes you want to lean in and press a kiss against his heated cheek. 

He opens his arm in a silent invitation, you curl yourself sideways against him, your cold nose pressing against his neck as his warm hands trail up and down your back in what began an attempt to warm you back up. The lazy movement up and down meant to lull you to sleep, is instead sending shivers down your spine. 

“Better?” Hotch asks. 

“Much, thank you” You reply, resting your ear against his chest. 

You don’t say anything else but let your hand trail up his stomach, feel the muscles softly clench underneath your hand before letting it rest there and look up to see his eyes closed and his lips parted. As if he could feel your gaze on him he opens his eyes still panting. 

Hotch looks at you with a questioning gaze, the certainty in yours seeming like the only answer he needs. 

His hand is a gentle weight on the back of your neck draws you in until your nose to nose, lips a breath away from touching. His thumb caresses your cheekbone back and forth, clouding your senses until you have tunnel vision, the room fades away and all you can see is him. You nose trails his for a moment as your forehead presses together, your hand coming up to touch his jaw. 

“We shouldn’t ” He says, breath fanning against your lips while his eyes close briefly. 

“No, we should not” You reply, but neither make a move to part. 

“What should we do then?” 

“You should tell me goodnight” 

“Goodnight, then” He says and his deep voice reverberates under your hand still perched on his chest. You lean down and leave a kiss on the corner of his mouth as his breath stutters. 

Before you can pull off of him his hand draws you back in finally kissing you. Time stops existing right then, the kiss is hungry but unhurried, Hotch is patient and tender as he rolls you over resting your head against his forearm.

Your breathing's labored as you part “See now we really should go to sleep”  You say breathlessly, chest heaving up and down. 

“We absolutely should,” He says teasingly. 

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

/ book 7 spoilers

*politely grabs you by your shoulders* UEUEUEUJQKXNkxnsnnanzndnsmsmfmdmsmdm

hello... sorry... Leona rant... the guys theorizing that Kifaji stops Leona in his dream bc deeply he'd wish for someone to stop him... i think im going to cry. i wonder if him being such a bad king in his dream has to do with his own feelings- meaning he doesn't believe he'd be a good king? Idia explained that maybe Leona purposefully chose his dream to play out in a more realistic way, which would mean having consequences and such... even if it would be painful, he still went with it...

I think you had a post about this iirc, but this rlly pushes me to further believe that what Leona craves is valid recognition— people recognizing him for who he is and what he does, not idolizing him, just valuing him genuinely. I think there in reality he craves more that than the "king" title specifically— that's why the scene where Jack says that "he's not your (the shadows) king, he's our DORM LEADER" felt so special to me, bc Jack is doing exactly that. he's valuing him for being his dorm leader, a title Leona earned for himself. I think that ultimately that'd be more valuable for him than the king title itself, since one "is born" to fulfill that goal (and the whole reason he isn't king is because he was born second, again, things out of his control—) I think that's why this dream Leona isn't satisfied w having become king, bc at the end of the day he only got there bc Falena/Cheka died here. Some people theorize he pulled Scar tactics in the dream, but regardless of that, I don't think the "nature" of the position itself would satisfy his need to be seen, to be genuinely valued. BC WHAT HE CRAVES IS NOT *JUST* TO BE KING, IT'S TO BE RESPECTED FOR THE THINGS HE ACCOMPLISHED... also more proof that if he wants to help out in his country he needs to do it alongside Falena's ideals, bc apparently the only good thing his reign brought in his dream was... no more inflation 😭😭😭 which is good (guy who lives somewhere with too much inflation), but I mean... I think I'd prefer still having nature 😭😭😭

ALSO... and the way he SACRIFICES HIMSELF for Ruggie... AND THROWS HIMSELF TO THE DARKNESS... also his confrontation w his overblot feels much more... depressing? than the others'? ☹️ And and and... The line about him deciding the place he'll live in... ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️ I'm in tears. Pls help.

and at the end he DID know he was dreaming, and he also suspected it before being 100% sure. so I guess our prediction was kind of right 😭

also UHM. THE OUTFIT??? AHHH URNWKDNFKSNSKSKKDKjfjwnnzdn sorry it's. the least important thing of what I wanted to say but he lOOKS SO PERFECT AHHH

[My full thoughts on the book 7 part 11 Leona update here!]

*is grabbed out of nowhere* 🧍‍♂️

NO BECAUSE I WAS THINKING THE EXACT SAME THING... dream!Kifaji is the only NPC/darkness in the dreams that didn't aggro and attack us 😭 In fact, he actively protects us and begs Leona to "wake up", continuously acting as the voice of reason the entire time... AND THEN SMILING AT THE END AND PRAISING "HIS KING" WHEN LEONA FINALLY FULLY WAKES UP... I feel like that definitely is not a happy coincidence. Deep down... some part of Leona's subconscious might have realized something was wrong, and maybe that manifested as Kifaji, the one person in his memories that could stand up to him. Not just because Kifaji is a stubborn old guy (although he is), not because he seems to be a competent mage, but because he must have been Leona's one and only friend and guardian growing up in the palace where the servants always shit talked him and compared him to his older brother. He raised Leona. He played with Leona. He encouraged Leona when his prince didn't believe in himself. He tried so hard to keep Leona from straying. He sees the goodness in Leona. He knows how intelligent Leona can be and how this can save their country. It makes total sense that Kifaji would be the form Leona's conscience assumes.

I feel like dream!Kifaji could also represent... that last shred of hope that Leona has for himself 💀 As late as book 6 of the main story, Leona states that Jamil isn't like him, hinting that while he believes Jamil has the capacity to change and be a better person, he doesn't have that same faith for himself. AND MAN, THAT SHIT WAS HEARTBREAKING OTL Then, entering his dream in book 7, we see just how deep that despair truly runs. Malleus promised everyone happy dreams, didn't he? And Leona has theoretically been given everything he has supposedly ever wanted. The crown, his kingdom, the power to enact all of the policies and laws he believes would benefit his people, wealth for his country, etc. But that has bled the country of its resources, made the people resent him--and he's still left bitter and unfulfilled, alone in the palace. This isn't what happiness truly looks like, but it sadly might be what Leona believes Sunset Savanna is destined for if he's left in charge of it. (Idia likens the dream to a sandbox game, and Leona, being the owner of it, decided to play it "realistically".) He can only become king if the rest of his family dies or goes missing. (This is even more morbid if you believe the headcanon that Leona committed fratricide and murdered/convinced Cheka to run away.) He'll achieve his goals, but at the cost of isolating himself and making himself a pariah. He and his people will starve to death. Everything he touches will crumble into sand. That's all he and his unique magic are good for, anyway. Destroying things, never creating or building them. AND HE STILL CONTINUES TO EXIST IN THIS WASTELAND, ACTING LIKE HE'S IN THE RIGHT AND LIVING IN DENIAL THAT ANY OF THIS IS HIS FAULT... while Kifaji, his conscience, his hope, is right there trying to get him to see reason.

Leona's dream was such a shock to see right after Jack and Ruggie's. The contrast between how he views himself and his rule vs how his dorm members see him and his rule is like NIGHT AND DAY. You got Jack here thinking of Leona as an upstanding and honorable dorm leader and team captain and Ruggie who dreams of a Leona who graduates and betters the lives of the entire country and the less fortunate by building schools and establishing magift/spelldrive clubs (which enhance Sunset Savanna's soft power). Then you have... whatever hellscape Leona has conjured up 😭 It's so sad that Leona pictured RUGGIE as being one of his most devoted haters too. Yeah, Ruggie sometimes complains about Leona running him ragged and how rich people have it easy compared to him, but Ruggie has never expressed this level of vitriol towards Leona before... yet in his own darn dream, Leona believes Ruggie would HATE him and try to overthrow him when that couldn’t be further from the truth. In Ruggie’s dream, he hasn’t even MET Leona before but still looks up to him for what he has accomplished and done to help the poor and the downtrodded 😭

I have mentioned before that I don't believe Leona needs to become an actual king in order to be happy (that post here!), and I think this most recent update proved my point. Jack points it out to us (in case we didn't already put together) that Leona is still miserable in spite of being gifted the crown and kingdom. Leona is still not satisfied. Even if he becomes king, he won't be satisfied. Even if he obtains everything he wants, he won't feel fulfilled. Never, ever, ever. AND THAT MAKES SENSE, because what Leona REALLY wanted all along wasn't the crown but the acknowledgement of his skills and talents... "proof" of his worth as an individual. I feel like the word "king" is thrown around a lot in regards to Leona, both in fandom and within his own dorm (Ruggie, Jack, etc. refer to him as their "king" quite often). However, it's not "king" that holds weight to Leona... it's everything that comes associated with the title. Respect, validation, love. These are all the things Leona got so little of as a child, which is why he fixates on them now. He has even expressed that he doesn't value the title of king if you didn't earn that title to begin with, which just goes to show that he wants to be able to prove himself and be seen for it. AND THE SAVANACLAW STUDENTS DO, AAAAAAAHHHAAHAHHHHHHHHHHHHhHhhhHhhhhh OTL JUST LIKE JACK SAID, HE'S THEIR DORM LEADER...

As dark as Leona's dream was, I appreciate it a lot for its realistic depiction of... Leona's worse tendencies... along with a potential future under his command. I often see people claiming that Leona would be a far better ruler for Sunset Savanna than Falena is. And to that, well... I'd say look at Leona's dream and some of the points brought up in it. I don't think his rule would be as terrible as what we see in the dream, HOWEVER. The dream mentions many shortcomings of Leona as a ruler, such as disregarding traditions and refusing to listen to advisors and input from the people. This would naturally make him unpopular with the country he serves, and it certainly doesn't help that he is not amicable either. These are only a few points I brought up in my extensive post comparing Leona and Falena's ruling styles, which I would highly recommend reading. I want to stress that I am in no way saying Leona would be a bad ruler. I believe that he and Falena compensate for each other's weaknesses. This is why I feel that the best solution isn't a blanket "X brother would be better than Y brother!", but rather that they should work as a team and make the best use of each other's strengths.

adfaiifvifiaef efoubfia LEONA SACRIFICING HIMSELF FOR RUGGIE I PRETTY MUCH SAW COMING 😭 Bro had to do something to make up for almost sanding him in book 2...

I really glossed over Leona's big confrontation with his Phantom in my initial reaction post, so I'd like to take the time to comment more on it here. A lot of what Leona tells his Phantom I felt was also the kind of advice he gave Jamil in book 6 (which only further reinforces the idea that he had hope for Jamil but not for himself). He dislikes people who complain about their situation but do nothing to change the circumstances... ALL TRUE OF BOTH HIM AND JAMIL. I think what makes Leona’s confrontation so different from the others we’ve seen so far is that while the others are more triumphant/telling the Phantoms how they’ve grown… Leona’s is sort of resigned? Like he still sees his negative traits (his pride, his underhandedness, etc.) and talks about how he has changed as a person but he also admits that this is his fault, that this bitterness and desire to be king will always remain will him. That’s fine—because Leona tells that darkness within himself that he’ll accept it too. (Jack does the same; his senpai are pretty awful but he chooses to accept them as they are.) I really loved that Leona swore to himself he’ll find his own throne and country… “Someday, for sure…!” It feels so hopeful after all that depressing stuff 😢 Reclaiming bis autonomy… Weh…………

asdbihabidbasdsa I still wish they had done a little more with Leona “knowing” it was a dream... Maybe making that "Kifaji is that part of Leona" more obvious or clearly stated because I feel like it could sail over people's heads? It might have also been interesting to see the blot try to suppress him like he's a feral beast that has to be kept under control 😔

DB SDABILASFIADFIAF tHAT DFUCKIBG SJHFBLADAD KING!L*ONa OUTFIT OTL TRHIS SI WHAT A MAN IN A SUIT IWiTH A HLAF CAPE THING AND SLICKED BACK HAIR DOES TO MEDFSKNLABIDBFIABIPEAFFQEIPYIBEUOF8TQEVOpfSBPsnjg 26871t9mg9qepgpeqomp9qvda bipivpada iegi THE EyE LOOK TOO ASDBLABSDSFIAFDI IT'S SCO CUn T Y AKJFHLBADGLBIHAGEIHGABIADGILBHWHICH IS REALLY WEIR FOR ME TO SAY ECUASE I USUALYL THINK THESE KINDS O EYE LOOKS ARE WAY TOO MUCH... . . ..... . . ........ . . .. . AnD TGE ExPOSED fOREHEADvv???!?!!!!!? HELLO ???!!!!!’mmcnNCCCVvV,cvvv???!!!!’nxhVahahshjwhzttTyqhwiau iTm anBEHGinG TO BE k!ssrd TOYcHEDF 🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢

THIS RICH BITCH IS OVER HERE IN A FANCY SU i TS 4 GOLD NECKLACES AND 3 RINGS WHILE HIS PEOPLE STARVE??????? DAMN NO WONDER WHY THEY WANNA EAT TH E RICH.

Side note: a friend pointed out that Leona's coat is basically a reused Octavinelle dorm uniform asset and, after checking... yeah, it basically is 😭 NOT THAT THERE'S ANYHTING WRONG WIH THAT, I just find it ironic because (in my own pseudo-lore) it reads like him trying so hard to be like J word and get my attention 💀💀💀 I AM AFRAID HE ATE AND LEFT NOC RUBMSN....

[pomefioredove]

heyyy i saw the flirty prompts and i wondered if you can do one "you like me because im a scoundrel" with leona??? for some reason it just fits him hehe

ooooh I don't write leona that often... this might be fun

summary: "you like me because I'm a scoundrel" type of post: short fic characters: leona additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, cute and fluffy, probably ooc, cuddles implied a part of this event

"He won't get up,"

Everyone in the room lets out a collective groan. Not that it's surprising; just disappointing.

Ruggie shrugs, says "what can 'ya do?", and takes a seat across from Epel in the Savanaclaw lounge.

"Can't we just leave without him?" Epel asks. "If he changes his mind, he can catch up later."

Jack shakes his head. "Leaving without Leona would be disrespectful,"

"...And it was Leona who signed all the field trip paperwork with Crowley, so we can't leave unless he goes," Ruggie says.

Another unanimous groan.

"I was really looking forward to the stadium snacks at this tournament thing..." Grim sighs. "Well... anyone else got any ideas?"

The room falls silent. No one, neither Ramshackle, nor Pomefiore, nor Savanaclaw, wants to admit what they're all thinking; someone needs to get Leona up.

After a long, uncomfortable silence, Ruggie clears his throat.

"...maybe the Prefect could-"

"What?" you say, immediately. "Why me?"

"He might... actually have a point. Leona does seem to tolerate them more than any of us," Jack mumbles.

"Wait just a second-"

"That's what I'm saying! Leona'll be up in no time, right? Shishishi,"

"But I-"

"Well, no time to lose!" even Grim chimes in, ushering you towards the door. "Good luck!"

"I didn't agree to this!" you shout... but it's no use.

How do you keep ending up in this position?

You sigh and walk into Leona's room, letting the heavy door fall shut behind you. You have a feeling that you're going to be in here for a long time.

Leona is lying face-down in bed, still in pajamas, the closed blinds casting morning light over him in little slits.

"I told you to get lost," he mutters, his voice muffled by the sheets.

You roll your eyes. "I'm not Ruggie,"

A pause. Leona rolls onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow to meet your eyes. It's stuffy in here.

"I'm not in the mood," he finally says. "Now, get lost."

"You can't just not go," you say, walking around the room to pull up the blinds. He hisses at the light, turning over again. "Everyone is waiting for you."

"They'll live,"

"Are you sick?"

Silence.

"...No. I just don't feel like it,"

"Everyone's been looking forward to watching this spelldrive tournament for months," you say. "You can't just change your mind."

"I can, and I have. If you stop your whining, I might even let you join me in here,"

You roll your eyes. "You're a scoundrel,"

He pokes his head out of the sheets to grin. "You like me because I'm a scoundrel,"

That earns him another eye-roll, and you sit at the edge of his bed, giving him a gentle nudge with your fingertips.

"C'mon. What's it gonna take to get you up?"

Leona huffs, green eyes darting away as if he's actually considering answering you.

"...Ten more minutes,"

Ruggie and Jack may have been a little right. You smile, feeling somewhat proud of yourself, and begin heading for the door.

"Good. I'll tell the others to get ready-"

"Wait,"

You stop just shy of the door handle, and turn to look over your shoulder.

He's got that smile on again.

"I didn't say you could leave, did I?"

You smile back, rolling your eyes again so he knows you still disapprove, and you crawl into bed with him.

[elusivecagedmockingbird]

Untitled

[jungkook x reader]

"You wanna know about art? When the class president starts touching my face on darkened street corners, and talking about my eyes, there's a word for it. There's an entire movement in the 20's—it's called surreal."

Or THE popular fuckboy in your campus suddenly signs up as the figure model to one of your extracurricular activities and starts showing his interest in you.

A/N: I'm not sure where I went with this. Thus, untitled. I'm not even sure where this falls in the tags. But, enjoy!

-

Jungkook is at odds with himself.

Part of him wants to leave and forget about this stupid idea. He doesn't know what compelled him to listen to Jin. What exactly does the old man know about dating anyway? As far as he knows, he's never seen him with the same girl, so maybe he should have reached out to Namjoon instead. The other part is hyping himself up. In about a few minutes, you’ll be coming through those doors. It would be too late to back out now.

He chugs his bottled water as if he were thirsty. Jungkook thinks he'll pass out from anxiety. If not that, then from how warm it is inside this garage turned makeshift studio.

He feels the beads of sweat trickle down his back and pits.

This is not good.

The class is about to start and he'll be stripping down to his boxers and he's all sweaty. Thinking about that uneventful possibility makes him sweat more.

Fuck.

He notices someone walk towards the corner he has been hiding in. Judging by how good-looking his face is and the vintage clothing he wears, Jungkook surmises this must be the Senior organizing this art class. Taeyong? Taehyun?

Ah, Taehyung, he remembers just before the elder stands infront of him.

"You're Jungkook, right?"

Jungkook only nods as a response. His dry throat keeps him from speaking, afraid he squeaks out a reply and embarrasses himself more.

Thankfully, the other man is kind enough to not assume his silence as being standoffish.

"Nervous, huh?" Taehyung smirks, but Jungkook doesn't feel like he's being provoked. Rather, it actually calms him—at least the idea that it must be a common occurrence for models to exude this much anxiety that it's the first question people assume.

"That obvious?" He squeaks before clearing his throat. "Do all models get nervous on their first time?" Jungkook finally grounds his voice. Albeit, a bit meek for someone with a strong commanding aura and in a leather jacket.

Taehyung smiles and nods. "More than you expect. Which is understandable. Jin hyung told me you're doing this to learn more about art?"

No, he isn't, he internally protests. He doesn't know what Jin told Taehyung. The real reason he's here on a Sunday, as a supposed 'volunteer' model for a drawing class, is because of you.

The rest, he let Jin fill it out so Jungkook can secure the spot.

But of course, he wouldn't divulge those. So, Jungkook once again clears his throat before responding with a meek 'yes' as he shoots his empty water bottle in the can, making a clanging noise. He smiles sheepishly at the circled crowd whose attention he caught. He cringes at how much he's going out of his way to act cool. He's never this way, and yet, he wants to make sure you witness him with his best foot forward today.

Jungkook sways on the balls of his feet, taking in the space when he sees you—just as you were hooking your bag in your chair.

Goddamn, you're pretty. He's watching you laugh with another girl stationed near your table as you lay out your tools.

"Ready when you are." Taehyung breaks him out of his trance, and he replies with a sheepish nod—hoping he wasn't caught staring at you.

Jungkook starts by taking off his shoes, then his leather jacket. He unbuttons his pants with briefs in tow and the thought that you would be looking at his crotch makes him blush. He shamelessly imagines you and him as Jack and Rose in that sketching scene. But, before he can pull his jeans down, a booming baritone voice hollers at him.

Taehyung hurries towards him. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Jungkook freezes at the sudden aggression. His mouth puckers open and close like a fish coming up for air, as he struggles to come up with a reply.

Taehyung tilts his head and assesses the young man with a pout. "Did Seokjin not tell you this isn't a nude class? We just need you to strip to your shirt and jeans," Taehyung clarifies in a whisper.

Embarrassment floods Jungkook and he sputters out an apology. He silently curses himself between nervous laughs and incoherent words of what seemed to be apologies. Shy doe eyes peeps at you and the confused and scandalized look painted on your face makes him want to get swallowed by the ground and never reappear in front of you ever again.

You must think he’s some kind of a creep or worse, a flasher. With a big exhale, he tries to set aside the embarrassment and go through this. It's already bad enough that his nerves and recent embarrassment made a sweat stain on his shirt.

Not long after, Jungkook stands in the middle of the circle of easels. It actually isn't bad, he thinks. Most of the time, he's staring at wood stands and the occasional heads peeking out of the canvas.

You're on his side, so he can only see you through his peripheral vision. Even so, he can already visualize the vein popping on your forehead when you concentrate—just one of the things he adores on your face.

That afternoon, Jungkook finds out he likes the thought of you paying this much attention and focus on him, instead of the other way around.

He holds his growing smile at bay.

-

The hour-long class went quicker than Jungkook wanted. He takes his time picking up his jacket and pretends to search for something in his bag as he waits for you to pack up. However, you never rise from your seat.

It takes Taehyung tapping your shoulder to bring you out of your world. "You still get tomorrow, Y/N," he hears Taehyung remind you before walking around the room, checking progress.

Jungkook didn't mean to eavesdrop more, but when you stood up and followed Taehyung, he couldn't help but tune in to your conversation.

"I need a little more time to fix a few edges. Can I just extend for a while? I'll clean up the supplies room." You bargain, voice kept low as if you're making an illegal trade with Taehyung.

Jungkook hears the older man sigh and call your name softly. "You still have tomorrow to work on it, and the next few days. Plus, I can't suddenly ask the model to stay just for you."

You whine petulantly like a child and Jungkook wonders if he can make you whine under different situations. Perhaps, under hi—

"He can go. I just need—"

The moment he makes out your reply, Jungkook was quick to cut you off and offer his time. "I can stay for a while."

Both you and Taehyung turn your heads to face the man who looks like a deer caught in the headlights, but he might as well have been. Your glowered confused eyes stare into him. "I-if you want," he stutters, so he tries to salvage his image with an obviously feigned nonchalant shrug.

Taehyung holds back his laugh but the sudden expulsion of air from his nose wasn't amiss, earning a side eye from you.

"No need," you answer with finality. "You get paid by the hour, right? I can't pay you and—"

"You don't have to pay me. I'm offering for free." Jungkook internally winces at how quick he was in offering himself. But if he were being honest, he would stay in this shoddy garage all night, through the blazing summer heat, as long as it's time spent with you.

Is it a crime that he's quick to take an opportunity when it has presented itself?

He thinks abso-fucking-lutely not.

Your eyebrows furrow, the 'I wasn't done talking' death glare you directed at Jungkook has him shift awkwardly on his foot and look everywhere else but at you.

"Still, I'd get in trouble for requesting more time, anyway. Can't have other students think Taehyung here has favorites." You press and it chips a bit of his confidence. It was obvious you didn't want him to stay. If he keeps insisting, you might think he's creepy.

Jungkook didn't want to seem too pushy anyway, and so, lets out a defeated "Oh.." and nods. His round eyes making it easy to see his dismay as it curves downwards a little at the sides.

"I wouldn't worry about that," Taehyung intervenes. The older man was amused as he watched Jungkook flounder around you, he also knows how oblivious and dismissive you are of guys like Jungkook to a fault. And so, he helps.

Ah, young love, Taehyung muses. "Just make sure to clean up and lock up after, like you promised." He tosses the keys to you, but you make no movement of catching it, letting the keys hit your chest and fall to the ground.

Now your glare is directed towards your sunbaenim. "On second thought, I'm wrapping it up for tonight then." You head towards your easel to pack up your stuff.

Taehyung sighs.

He tells Jungkook to wait a bit and pick up the keys as he follows after you, calling your name.

“Just take the guy's offer to help. He’s trying to learn more about art, too,” he whispers, arms crossing across his chest. "Isn't this the piece you're submitting with your application? I know that head of yours will run nonstop if you don't finish what you intended to do tonight." Taehyung nudges you with a smile and softly jabs his pointer finger to your temple, making you chuckle with a pout. You shoo his hand away from your face and he knows he got you to stay.

This Jungkook kid owes him, Taehyung thinks.

However, from where Jungkook stands, he sees you breaking out the cutest smile at Taehyung. His eyes even going bigger at what he believes is an affectionate touch to your face when Taehyung boops your forehead.

Is that even ethical or something, he wonders irately. Taehyung isn't much older but given that he's your sunbaenim, Jungkook thinks he shouldn't be doing that. Or even be standing close to you. He's currently throwing imaginary lasers at Taehyung's back when you both turn to him and he immediately unsquints his eyes.

"Jungkook, do you still want to stay?" Taehyung shouts at the young man.

Yes.

A hundred times yes. He's a lovesick loyal puppy and if you ask him to bark, he'll bark for you.

Jungkook nods enthusiastically and rushes closer to where you stand, eager to wedge himself between you and Taehyung.

-

"Jungkook," you sigh his name tiredly. "I really need you to stop moving your head. Is there something more interesting behind me?" The question was rhetorical, but you're starting to wonder what he keeps on staring at behind you that you turn your head, only to be greeted with a wall filled with hanged canvases.

You hear him mumble out a you with a smirk, but was quick to cover it up with a sorry. This guy think he was slick.

Jungkook turns his head to assume his supposed pose. His eyes still filled with mirth. And he lasts about four minutes before his head starts turning towards you. Again.

You throw your head forward with an exhausted groan. This was a mistake. You're growing more frustrated by the minute. Maybe you should call it a night.

Looking back up at your model, you tell him he can leave.

Jungkook breaks his stance then quickly poses as he quickly persuades you. "No, I'll stay still. Look," he promises and follows through quickly by holding the pose.

"No, I'm just really too tired for tonight. Thank you for staying a bit longer." You busy yourself by grabbing at your stuff, cleaning pencil shards here and there to keep the lurking unease.

You can't have a breakdown here again, you admonish yourself. And it's going to feel worse after if Jungkook's here to see it happen. You keep your head down while your hands wipe the charcoal dust on the table.

You hear footsteps nearing you, and you pray to whoever listens that he's not actually coming closer. He calls your name, his voice close and soft. You hum in response, head still hung low, refusing to face him.

Jungkook sees you rubbing an eraser at a blank surface and purses his lips. He finally got the chance to spend time with you and he was hoping to break the ice and get closer to you, but he does this—he upset you and wasted your time. You're not gonna want to spend more time with him after this.

"I-I'm sorry. I really wanted to help. I can stay again tomorrow to make up for tonight," he offers. Everything about him screams eagerness and he must really be interested in art to be willing to stay in the garage-slash-studio during this Summer heat.

You feel the tingling pressure in your throat and your lips quiver. You clear your throat and will away the tears before it breaks through your paper wall.

"No. You did great, Jungkook. I'm just not feeling well tonight." Your voice was too soft, but at least it didn't break.

Jungkook walks around you and turns to face you, hands making contact with your shoulder. "Are you sick? I have some medicine in my bag," he offers. He retracts his hand and unzips his bag to take out whatever medicine he had stashed inside.

It's his genuine concern that does it for you. You suddenly sob and cover your face with your hands.

"Oh, Y/N, are you okay? Does something hurt?" He didn't expect this. Jungkook was taken aback and his worried eyes looked for signs of where you could have been hurt.

Your sobs turned to full-on bawling and Jungkook was quick to take you into his arms. He lets you cry and occasionally whispers assurances between your weeping despite not knowing why you suddenly burst into tears.

In that moment, you stood illuminated by harsh yellowish fluorescent lights like a Gustav Klimt painting on display. The A/C humming noise drowned out by your hiccups and his whispers.

You were the first to pull away. He didn't mean to, but the moment you separated from Jungkook and lowered your hands from your face, he laughed.

Offended at his reaction, you push him away and quickly gather your bag hanging on the chair.

"Wait," he calls for you as he fumbles to pick up the bag he let fall to the floor.

He calls your name but you decidedly ignore him, feet shuffling quickly to leave the garage.

Fucking ass, you think. You're mortified. You already dread tomorrow as your imagination runs wild. What if he tells his friends about your ugly crying? You think you don't care what frat guys think, but you still definitely don't want to be the talk of the campus. You've only transferred here last year and after being briefed by your friend on who to avoid, you made sure not to have a run in with guys like Jungkook.

This is exactly why you were holding everything in earlier. Every stereotype of frat guys being huge assholes behind the charming facade were true.

A flash of high school memories ambush you and you just want to get to your dorm and hide under your blankets. You'll just have to miss tomorrow's class, you plan.

You violently shrug when you feel a hand grip your wrist.

"Hey, will you wait," Jungkook pleads. You turn to face him and see him reach something in his pockets.

Fuck. He's not going to take a photo, isn't he?

You were ready to lunge at him, anything to prevent him from taking a snap at your post-bawl blotched face, when all of sudden, a soft cloth touched your face.

Jungkook chuckles at your startled face.

"You have charcoal smudged all over your face," he points out. His bunny teeth peeks through his curved lips and the sides of his eyes wrinkle from amusement.

"Oh." You visibly flinch when he uses his thumb to brush the apple of your cheeks.

"There," he smiles, eyes fixated on his finger caressing your skin.

"You know you really have pretty eyes."

If you were in a romantic movie, his line would have panned out well. But you're not, so cue the sound of glass breaking to signify a shattered moment.

To think, you bought his act. You thought, here's a deviant frat boy species. Maybe not all of them are only interested in girls and booze. You even thought this Jeon Jungkook isn't so bad.

Until he says that.

Breaking away and stepping back from him, you humorlessly laugh in disbelief.

"You're a fucking cliché, Jungkook. Does this babble usually work on chicks?" You take a look at him and he has the audacity to look unaware of how hokey the situation is.

"Wha—" Poor boy couldn't even finish his sentence, you thought.

"Y/N, I'm not following."

You were about to make a joke on flies flying straight to his agape mouth but you hold yourself back. Instead, you make a gesture of shaking your head as you force out another dry laugh. You look at him one last time and walk away from the frat boy once again.

You hear his footsteps follow you, along with calls of your name. "Did I say something wrong?"

You stop as you reach the threshold—you're almost out of the garage and out into the cold dark night, ready to rush into the safety of your dorm and away from sleazy college boys.

But something in you compels you to turn, and so you do. "Yes, Jungkook. You did." Your hands grip your bag tighter, feet taking a couple of steps back into the garage, to the shoddy light so he can see you.

"Did you really think this charming ‘oh-i’m-clueless act was going to drop panties? You wanna know about art?" You hurl the question; voice no longer shaky and unsure. "When the campus playboy starts touching my face on dimly lit spaces, and starts talking about my eyes, there's a word for it. There's an entire movement in the 20's—it's called surreal." You roll your eyes at him before making your exit.

It takes a minute for Jungkook to get his body to move. And when he does, you're already a distance away. Almost gone from his sight.

This is the second time today that you rendered him immobile and speechless. Just what the fuck did he do?

-

Meanwhile, you cursed at Jeon Jungkook on your entire walk home. Fuck him and his round innocent eyes for throwing the bees and butterflies in your stomach into chaos.

You tell yourself you dodged a bullet and that was just a ploy for him to get into your pants. You should actually congratulate yourself for turning away one of the notorious womanizers. Your roommate would be proud of you.

Still, you couldn't deny the jolt you felt in your chest when he touched your face and spewed those cheesy lines about your eyes.

You grunt as you slam the door to your dorm.

"Damn. Who pissed you off?" Jihyo, your roommate stares at you across her table.

You heave a sigh of exhaustion and plop yourself on the carpeted floor. "Had a run in with a frat guy," you spit with a scowl. "You remember the guy you were talking about last week? Jungkook? He's the model for this week."

"Seriously? That's..." Jihyo's head tilted sideways as she looked for the right word, brows furrowing. "Out of character for him."

You raise your head and prop your arms to face your roommate. "Right? That's what I thought, but Taehyung said he was interested in learning art."

At this, Jihyo pauses while eating and guffaws. "Is he for real?"

You roll your eyes at no one in particular and rest your head on your palms as your other hand plucks at the carpet. "Nah, I'm pretty sure he was just there to pick up girls."

Jihyo squints at you, suddenly alert as she senses something you haven't told her yet.

"He hit on me," you start. Already growing flustered at the recollection of the afternoon. "You know those cheesy lines from romcoms, he actually used them on me." You went on detail by detail about what happened and ended your story with a shudder. "This is the first time I might dread going to the class."

"Yep, I see why he thinks he could get away with the cheesiest line," Jihyo murmurs. Apparently, during your story, Jihyo picked up her phone and started to stalk Jungkook's profile. "I mean shame it wasn't nude because have you seen this body?" She flips her phone so you can see her screen.

"What? That's not Jungkook." You stand from your spot and walk closer to Jihyo and snatch the phone. "This isn't Jungkook."

"What are you talking about? That’s literally his profile,” Jihyo takes her phone back, wanting to take another look if you’re looking at the same thing. “See, Kim Jongkook. He’s the notorious fuck boy, probably in all departments. Good thing is, he’s graduating this year.”

Oh, fuck.

-

>> Still Untitled

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

personal confessions. [1/3] l Joel Miller

Summary:  you met to celebrate, but your conversation took a dangerous turn

Warnings:  (+18) smut, a little bit of angst and fluff, a few beers, a few unexpected confessions, some swearing, jealousy, lust, fingering, one ex-boyfriend, Sarah mentioned, Tommy is there too

A/N: I'm not sure how this will end, because I'll probably stumble along the way. But this idea has been on my mind for a while. We like a friends-to-lovers story, right? I hope I can find the words and put them together, create something nice. I'll give it a chance.

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

"Sweet Jesus!"

He turned and moved his gaze to where Tommy was staring. At first he didn't know what his brother was talking about, only when the crowd thinned out a bit he saw a familiar silhouette. At that moment Joel knew exactly what his brother meant.

You were walking towards them dressed in a pretty black silk skirt that beautifully accentuated your curves and a top that left little to the imagination. A few men clearly looked back at you as you approached their table giving them a wonderful smile.

"Hi. Sorry to keep you waiting." you said sitting down next to Joel.

Tommy grinned at you "Nothing to apologize for. Besides - wow - you look amazing!" he noticed you were a little embarrassed "Why don't you dress like that for work?"

"That's a good reason." you replied "But today we're celebrating so I thought it would be a good idea to wear something different, right?"

"Would you like something to drink? A beer or a cocktail?" the man stood up from the table.

"Beer sounds good. Thanks."

Tommy walked away towards the bar and you looked at Joel. He hadn't said a word to you yet and you felt a little awkward. He was wearing a nice shirt and looked really good.

"So..." you started, folding your hands on the table. "Lots of work ahead of you, huh? This is a new big deal."

"Yeah, I guess so." Joel scratched the back of his neck. "I'm glad we managed to work it out with the client. You're the one to thank for that too."

"Stop it!" you laughed, placing your hand on his forearm. "You're the boss. I just sit at the desk."

"If your job is just sitting around, then you're doing a great job." He smiled, affectionately patting your hand with his. "Jack didn't mind you coming with us? He didn't want to join?"

In one second, Joel noticed how the smile fell from your face and you stiffened. He immediately sensed that something was wrong and regretted asking the question at all.

"I guess I don't really care if he would mind since we haven't been together for over a week." You replied, trying to sound much more relaxed than what your body was saying.

"Does that mean... You broke up?" You nodded "Shit! Sorry, I didn't know."

You raised a reassuring hand and plastered a small smile to your lips "That's fine. It's not really something I want to brag about, is it? People break up all the time, we just filled in the statistics."

Joel swallowed a sip of beer to hide his confusion and surprise. However, you quickly forgot about your conversation as soon as Tommy placed a beer in front of you and you immersed yourself in a discussion about his last date.

The minutes of a pleasant Friday evening passed, filled with laughter, conversation and slow sipping of cold beer. Tommy talked you into dancing with him, twice, and then disappeared to the other end of the bar when he saw some really beautiful girl. You plopped down in the chair next to Joel, feeling how hot you were.

"I guess we can cross Tommy off the attendance list now." You stated, fanning yourself with your hand and watching as the girl giggled at some of his jokes.

"I think so." Joel mumbled, reluctantly tearing his gaze away from your cleavage.

Your chest heaved as you breathed deeply, your skin glistening with sweat, and the scent of your perfume became even more intense. You were beaming, single strands of wet hair stuck to your neck, and your body relaxed.

If it weren't for the fact that he had only just started his second beer, Joel could have blamed this strange feeling on the fact that he was drunk. But he didn't feel that way.

At that moment, Joel envied his brother the ease with which he approached women. You intimidated him a little, although he really liked you. 

You had been working together for some time and outside of work, you had also been on really friendly terms. Joel would be grateful for every bit of help he got from you with Sarah. 

It didn't matter if it was some weird project for school, buying some clothes or just talking to him as you tried to explain what was going on with a teenage girl. 

Joel loved Sarah more than life, and she adored him, but sometimes they needed a translator, and you were perfect for that.

"You should do the same thing he did." You said after a moment, and seeing Joel frowned, you laughed "What? You think you won't pick up any pretty girls here? Please!"

Joel shook his head in disbelief.

"I'm not cut out for this." He muttered, and seeing the surprise on your face, he added "I'm a single father, I work too much and I forgot how to flirt or pick up anyone. I'm out of business."

You rolled your eyes so dramatically that Joel couldn't stop laughing.

"Really?" You sneered "I've never looked at you like that."

"Because you work for me."

"But I'm also a woman, which may be hard for you to see." you were wrong, he knew that from the first moment he saw you "I always thought you were a really handsome guy, after all you just have to find someone nice. And don't hide behind "I'm a single father", because that's lame."

You both laughed. The beer you drank was pleasantly buzzing in your head, but you didn't feel drunk, just a little happier. Your nails were tapping quietly on the table top, and a smile was on your lips.

"What about you? Now that you're single again..."

You looked at him and Joel immediately noticed a shadow of sadness in your eyes.

"I'm sorry." he mumbled quickly looking down at the bottle he was turning in his hands "I don't know why I said that."

It was a lie, he knew, but he didn't want to admit it to himself yet. 

"I didn't know we were bidding on each other." You replied, smiling. "I'm in." You bit your lip, thinking for a moment, then recited. "I work a lot too and my phone is glued to my hand, I dressed in my best clothes to improve my low self-esteem after the breakup, and I haven't had a real orgasm with a guy in ‘who knows how long’."

Joel choked on the last sip of his beer. It took him a moment to stop coughing, and you giggled as tears welled up in his eyes.

"I guess I won." You said.

"What did you say?" he finally choked out, hitting his chest with his clenched hand and regaining his breath.

You shrugged. "That I work too much. I once got a call from a client during a visit to the gynecologist. He was a bit surprised because we were in the middle of an examination, but..."

"I meant..."

"Oh! Ooohhhhh!" now you understood, but you shrugged again "I think there's something wrong with me, I don't know."

"What about Jack?" he asked.

"He didn't really have problems with orgasm."

You watched each other carefully, until suddenly you both burst out laughing. You hid your face in your hands.

"I'm sorry!" you groaned "It's so embarrassing!"

"It's not embarrassing, it's just...sad." Joel gently grabbed your hands and moved them away to see your face "Just... Look at yourself! Have you talked to him about this?"

"I guess I was too nice, you know. I figured that since he's a nice guy and treats me well, I can take care of the rest myself, right? And that's how it worked."

"And he never... Fuck! I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

You smiled and looked at him with some strange tenderness. "Don't worry, Joel. It's totally fine. Let's blame it on the beer."

He tilted his head and mumbled a quiet "Sure." After that, you both fell silent for a moment. Tommy had long since disappeared from your field of vision, but that didn't worry you. Eventually, you announced that you were going to the toilet and would probably slowly get home afterward.

Joel watched you as you walked through the bar, your hips swaying freely, and he noticed again how your skirt beautifully emphasized your curves. He didn't know why he couldn't get your words out of his head.

How on earth had a woman like you never experienced an orgasm with a guy? Or at least hadn't for a long time. It was beyond his comprehension. You were a beautiful, smart, and funny woman. Joel never hit on you because you were in a relationship, but he was a guy, he had eyes. 

He couldn't imagine having you in his bed and never making you cum. Never to see your body tremble, to hear you moan his name, to see your chest heave as you catch your breath, your flushed cheeks. He would love to see the look in your eyes right after he brought you to climax, in every possible position. You would look so good with your legs on his shoulders or your ass in the air.

Fuck!

The twitch in his jeans meant his thoughts had wandered too far. Way too far. He shouldn't be thinking about you like that.

His eyes immediately caught the moment you appeared in range again. Some guy stopped you and you talked for a moment, smiling at him flirtatiously. A strange feeling filled Joel's chest. His body tensed, and when the guy put his hand on your shoulder, he was almost ready to go there and take you to his car.

However, you must have really wanted to go home, because soon you said goodbye and went back to the table. You didn't notice any change in Joel's behavior and he was happy about it.

"Do you need a ride?" he asked as you finished your beer.

"If it's not a problem for you, you'll save my life." you replied. "I don't like walking home alone at night."

You left the bar together, and Joel placed his hand on the lower back of yours, throwing a quick glance at the man who dared to stop you. In a strange way, he wanted to give a signal that he had nothing to count on.

The evening was pleasantly cool and it was nice to breathe in fresh air. When you reached his car, before he opened the door for you, he leaned against it, clearly struggling to say something to you. He was strangely silent the whole way and you were afraid that it was maybe because of your conversation.

"Listen..." he started, his voice low and pleasant "I don't want you to go home thinking that something is wrong with you. What you told me... It wasn't fair to you, you know."

You watched him carefully. You were silent, letting him blurt out what he wanted to say and he was grateful for it. It wasn't easy for him. 

You were friends, but you were also a man and a woman. The news that you broke up with Jack opened doors in Joel's head that he had pretended not to see before.

"I would never let you... I mean. Fuck!" he hissed, scratching his neck in embarrassment "You're wonderful and you deserve everything."

A small smile appeared on your lips and your hand stroked his arm.

"Thank you for saying that, Joel." You said. "That means a lot to me. And you know what? I think you were a little too hard on yourself, because you know exactly how to talk to women. You should give yourself a chance and find someone..."

"I don't want someone." He blurted out, his tone decisive. He looked at you completely differently than before, his eyes darkening. "I want you. For a long time."

You were surprised, but you didn't have time to respond when his warm hands grabbed your cheeks and Joel moved closer to place a tender but deep kiss on your lips. 

It was something that consumed you completely. The tart taste of beer and mint gum first made itself felt on your lips, and when you parted them, his tongue slipped deeper. The warmth of his body was transferred to yours. You hesitantly placed your hands on his waist, but he only deepened the kiss, extracting a muffled sigh from your throat.

Fuck! He could go crazy if he heard it more often. But he wanted to listen to it for hours. 

Your perfume, the way you clung to him, the way you kissed him back, your hands on his body... Joel had to stop so he wouldn't bend you over the hood of his car and take you in the parking lot.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered "I don't know what got into me."

"Don't apologize if you don't mean it." you replied "That was really...good."

He smiled the way you loved it, small wrinkles appearing around his eyes as they sparkled. "If you let me, I'll make you feel really good."

It was bold and unexpected. Joel immediately thought that this time he had gone too far. After all, you had recently broken up with your boyfriend, and he acted like he was just waiting to get into your panties and...

"I think that's an interesting offer." If he hadn't seen your lips moving, he would never have believed you had said that. 

He opened the car door and you got in, feeling like your muscles were giving up on you. Maybe it was stupid and unwise, but you didn't want to think about it. You left your common sense at the door and when you felt Joel's lips on you again, you just wanted to lose yourself in this guy.

He kissed you like his life depended on it, hard and insistent. His hands were everywhere, but you weren't shy either. When you slid your fingers into his hair and pulled them slightly, a muffled groan escaped from the depths of his chest.

"Sounds good." You giggled, breaking away from his lips that were thirsty for you for a moment.

"I want to hear what you have inside you, baby." He replied as he slid his hand under your skirt, then followed the inside of your thigh to your hot center.

Brown eyes looked at you carefully, ready to catch the slightest grimace that would indicate your discomfort. The last thing Joel wanted was for you to feel bad and uncomfortable with him. But he didn't see anything like that in your eyes as his fingers slid over your covered pussy.

"Will you let me?" You nodded slightly. 

At that moment, you would have let him do anything. Joel had stunned you. You couldn't think rationally, you just wanted to feel him by your side, on you, inside you. It didn't matter how or where. He was the only one that mattered to you. You didn't want to be rational anymore. You followed him and wanted what he promised to give you.

Besides, it was Joel. You knew him, you trusted him, you were friends and you really had a strange weakness for him.

His hand pressed tightly and slid over your pussy, your legs spread apart unconsciously. Joel's lips kissed your neck and you closed your eyes, tightening your fingers on his shoulder as he pulled your panties aside and you felt his fingers on your skin.

"So wet..." he whispered in your ear, his hot breath tickling your neck "You must be very thirsty, but don't worry, baby. I'll give you what you deserve."

He pressed his lips against yours, stifling your sigh as he pushed two fingers inside you. Your body tensed at the sudden feeling of stretching, but soon a pleasant feeling flooded your lower abdomen.

Joel's fingers were long and filled you perfectly, he moved steadily, but he slid them all the way to your knuckles, which made him reach your g-spot perfectly. You tightened your fingers around his wrist, but he didn't stop.

"I know, I know, baby. You take them so well." he whispered, kissing your temple and looking between your spread thighs.

His hand was already wet with your juices, and the thought of what it would be like to have his cock inside you made him even harder. Sweet moans escaped your throat. You were so close, and he hadn't seen anything more beautiful than you in that moment in a long time.

"Shush." he whispered as he added a third finger, and you moaned louder "You're so beautiful, you know that? You deserve it, so take it... Let it go, baby. I'm holding you."

"Joel..." you whispered.

Fuck! 

He already knew he'd never forget how his name sounded in your mouth when you reached your peak. But he had to help you. 

His fingers hit into you harder and faster, you found his lips and pressed yourself against them the moment it happened. Your body quivered hard, and Joel felt your walls almost swallow his fingers. You hid your face in his neck, moaning quietly and trying to catch your breath.

"God, if you only knew how beautiful you are when you cum..."

He didn't expect that he actually said those words, but he had to, because you stroked his cheek tenderly.

"Fuck, Joel..." you lifted your head and looked at him with such a dreamy gaze that he got lost in your eyes "You have talented hands."

You both burst out laughing. He leaned down and kissed you, this time much more gently, with tenderness.

"Maybe..." you started as his hand stroked your thigh. "Maybe we can go to my place and see how many more talents you have inside you, huh? The night is still young."

"Do you want that? I don't want you to think that..."

Suddenly your hand slid over his bulge and Joel closed his eyes at the friction.

"We both want that, don't we?"

Another kiss before the car engine started and you headed towards your house. It felt good. He had his hand on your thigh, smelled your scent on himself, your kisses still so fresh on his lips. He knew he was imagining too much, but he thought he could get used to it. To you in his life, so fully.

However, when you stopped in front of your house something changed.

"What the hell?" you hissed, leaning out and looking at the car standing by the curb.

"What’s wrong?"

"It's Jack's car." you mumbled, and when Joel parked you quickly got out.

At the same moment a man got out of the other car, the bouquet of roses in his hands looked impressive. Joel felt something heavy drop to his stomach.

Jack approached you, noticed Joel in the car and nodded to greet him, and then started to say something. Joel didn't hear him, but he saw how you wrap your arms around yourself, clearly surprised and tense. You looked in his direction a few times like a scared animal, until finally Joel was the one who made the decision.

He started the car and drove home, leaving you with Jack and the bouquet of roses.

[part 2]

☆☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[sansaorgana]

— CHRYSALIS (II)

PART ONE

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!half-Vala/half-Elf!Reader (Morgoth's Daughter)

SUMMARY — Mairon is scheming to take over the armies of Morgoth. With his old master's daughter by his side he considers his claims to be legitimised, although he has to admit that her mood swings scare him sometimes. Well, one thing is certain – his wife keeps him on his toes. And their enemies are many, even amongst their own Lieutenants.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — It's been some time since part one but I needed a short break and I'm not going to lie but I have been distracted... Those of you who follow me, know already that I have a massive crush on Jack Lowden now... 🤣 It is honestly funny to me because I've known about this guy for years (he was even in one of my favourite TV shows ever aka War & Peace) but it was this one scene of the loser Sauron that pushed me into having a crush??? Seriously?! Anyway, yeah... I've been watching movies with him and at the moment I am in the middle of Slow Horses. Just saying because I have a feeling it is going to end up with a fanfic... 💀 Big shoutout and thanks to @olchr-1 because their comments under my fics about Mairon and Morgoth always inspire me! 💚

WARNINGS — toxic relationship (they're mutually toxic to each other), mentions of Morgoth's abuse towards Sauron, Reader is kinda unhinged (she is Morgoth's daughter, ok? what did you expect?), murder (as in – she murders [an Orc] AND she gets murdered), she's some sort of a ghost in the end (idk if it's a trigger but I'm writing it down in case it is...)

WORD COUNT — 6,140

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

CHRYSALIS (II)

“I do. I can see inside your mind.”

Mairon felt a shiver travelling down his spine at those words. (Y/N) had a sweet smile on her face but it still felt somehow sinister and embarrassing after realising she could have felt all his scheming regarding her.

“Do not be scared!” She whined and giggled as she brushed his ginger hair to put it behind his pointy ear. “I like you the way you are.”

Mairon cracked a smile at her and put his hands on her waist to pull her closer and join their lips together. The kiss started softly but it quickly turned into a heated one. (Y/N) moaned into his mouth and he groaned, pushing aside all the things on the table behind her to pick her up and sit her up on top of it.

Her fingers tangled in his hair and he could hear her heartbeat fastening as his shaky hands travelled to her back where he started to tug onto the lacing of her gown.

But at that, (Y/N) flinched and Mairon broke the kiss, taking a step back and looking at her with a raised eyebrow. She refused to meet his gaze and looked over his shoulder at the still unfinished item behind him.

“I think you still have work to finish, my husband,” she pointed out sweetly and how could he ever be angry at her when she addressed him so beautifully?

Mairon nodded at her and leaned in to steal one more kiss from her but this time it was only a peck on the lips.

He walked away from her to go back to reforging her father’s crown to fit him and she took off her leather apron and folded it neatly before putting it on the desk and leaving the forge without a word.

Mairon wondered quietly what was the reason for her sudden shyness when it came to being physical. How much had she witnessed about her parents’ relationship? And what had it been like?

Or perhaps (Y/N) was simply shy because she had been sheltered for her whole life.

Either way, she had agreed to share her life with him and that was enough for him. To have her close, to show her off as his – Melkor’s daughter, the heiress of darkness. She had chosen him – Mairon – to be her husband. There was no better legitimation for his coronation than this.

He finished his work and the sun was slowly setting in the sky although it was barely visible in their land of snow and cold either way. Mairon took off his apron and fixed his hair before taking the newly reforged crown and taking it to his chambers because he would never leave it unsupervised. Proud of his creation, he walked past (Y/N)’s chambers but he did not bother to check on her. She clearly needed her space now and he decided to give it to her.

After entering his chambers, though, Mairon froze at the sight of (Y/N) laying in his bed and smiling at him gently. She was wearing nothing but a beautiful nightgown made out of a sheer fabric that left very little to his imagination. Mairon swallowed a lump in his throat at the sight.

“I… I have finished,” he told her and placed the crown on top of a dresser, scared of her opinion as he usually was when it came to his craft.

“I can see. It is beautiful, you are very talented with your hands, my Sauron,” she whispered, surprisingly sweet, and Mairon smiled nervously at the praise before turning around to face her.

“Where did you get a nightgown like this?” He asked. After all, all her clothes had been gifts from him and he would never dare to give her such a thing before.

“So… You like it?” She giggled and Mairon’s heart skipped a beat. She had no idea how much he did. Or maybe she did – after all, she could get inside his head. “I know you do, my husband,” she sighed, “but I would like you to say it.”

“I… I do,” Mairon nodded and cleared his throat before sitting on the edge of his bed and carefully reaching his hand out to caress her cheek. “I like it. Very much,” he assured her. 

Oh, how the tables turned. Who was shy now?

When Mairon’s hand lowered and briefly touched (Y/N)’s nightgown, it suddenly disappeared completely, dissolved into air and there she was, naked for him. He looked into her eyes and she chuckled.

“So, it worked,” she whispered, proud of herself. “I learnt from you how to do it,” she confessed and sat up to cling to him and join their lips together in a kiss but this time it was him who was mostly sitting there, petrified to witness her being like that. “I’m sorry, am I doing something wrong?” (Y/N) furrowed her brow and moved away a little, shyly, visibly feeling embarrassed of herself.

And when she was like this, he felt way more confident. Mairon straightened his back and shook his head gently.

“No, my love, not at all. It’s just that I…” He took a deep breath in.

“That you’re a Maia, you were born to serve and not to experience such carnal desires,” she nodded and he closed his mouth. “And yet you do and you are confused but I know the answer.”

“You do?” Mairon inquired.

“I need you,” she breathed out and once more she moved closer to him to kiss the corner of his mouth as her hands caressed his neck with her fingertips. “And you love me. You serve me, Sauron. Therefore, when I need you, your flesh answers to my calling.”

And now it was him flinching at her words and she moved back once more, looking at him with confusion written all over her terrifyingly beautiful features.

“I’m sorry, I…” He fixed his hair with trembling hands as he looked away.

How could he tell her that when she was like this she reminded him of her father and it was not in the way he wanted to remember him? How could he tell her that it nearly scared him and it surely was not helping his desire? 

Melkor had reforged him the same way Mairon reforged his crown – his old self had been melted and twisted in the most wicked ways. But admitting it to her now would be humiliating.

When she was a shy, innocent maiden – he felt confident enough to give in to his desires and to devour her. But when she was showing confidence and was becoming needy herself – greedy for him and his service like his master once had been… He was simply shutting down.

“I would never hurt you, Sauron,” she whispered and he turned his head around to look at her, a little frustrated with the fact that she had been inside his head again – especially at a moment like that. “I would never hurt you first, that is,” she added. “And you have no reason to be embarrassed in front of me. I am your wife and your Queen,” she added.

“I want to be worthy of you but I do not think I ever will be…” He confessed, finally voicing out the fear he had been having for centuries now – from the moment he had seen her for the first time.

“Oh, but my sweet Sauron, do you not know…?” (Y/N) chuckled lovingly and moved closer to him once more but very slowly and carefully this time. She cupped his face and caressed his cheeks with her thumbs before leaning in to rub her nose with his. “I know you will never be and I still like you,” she smiled, probably thinking her words cheered him up but they only broke his heart.

Because what was her love then? Did she love him because he was a good pet? The most loyal servant? Was her love as wicked as her father’s?

“I am my mother’s daughter, too,” she reminded him and kissed his forehead. “I can be sweet and gentle with you, kiss every part of your flesh, every part my father hurt and twisted… Let me heal it,” she breathed out.

He would certainly let her try.

The fortress was the most quiet during the day because the Orcs mostly slept at that time. Mairon and (Y/N) laid in his bed for hours now, facing each other with their limbs tangled and noses brushing as they exchanged sweet kisses and her fingers caressed his hair.

“You are the most extraordinary creature I have ever laid my eyes on,” he breathed out.

“I know,” she smirked. “When will we leave here? I want to see the world,” her eyes sparkled.

“Do you really want to see it or perhaps you can’t wait for the world to fall on its knees at the sight of you?” Mairon wondered teasingly and she chuckled.

“I am aware the realms you will take me to are far from perfect but I will shape them to fit my will and vision,” she said. “And for that, they will build me altars.”

“And if they don’t?”

“Then you will certainly make sure they do,” she smirked sweetly but her eyes filled with mischief.

Mairon moved his head up slightly to kiss her on the mouth instead of making a promise with his words. Then, he laid down on the pillow and sighed at the sight of the reforged crown of Morgoth on top of his dresser.

“I will forge you a crown, too. I have an idea for its design already,” he promised. “And then, we will coronate ourselves and marshal our legions out of here.”

“I am shutting myself out of your mind then,” (Y/N) giggled. “I want the design to be a surprise,” she explained and kissed his cheek.

He couldn’t help the feeling that he indeed was her pet but perhaps she would be a much kinder owner than her father had been.

Tasarë woke up and leaned on the barren, dry tree as she sighed at the sight of the huge fortress in the horizon. They would arrive there in the afternoon on that day but she had not seen it last night due to the darkness. Now, in the hazy morning she was able to see what was awaiting her – the dreadful place and even more dreadful master within its walls. 

“Why me?” She asked Mairon while he was watching her with a mix of pity and relief that his task would be done soon.

“He saw you in my memories,” he confessed. She deserved to know the truth now, at the very end of their road together.

“You were that huge werewolf watching me in the forest,” Tasarë chuckled and shook her head. “I sensed your eyes on me.”

“And that was your demise. You know what they say – curiosity killed the cat,” Mairon crossed his arms and stood by her side, looking at the fortress ahead of them with pride.

“Why were you staring at me?” Tasarë inquired and Mairon shrugged his arms. He truly did not know.

“Something drew me in. Perhaps it was your fate,” he explained cruelly.

Cruelly, because what could this young and innocent maiden possibly have done to deserve such punishment?

“Please,” she took off her humble ring with a ruby stone on it, “take it,” she offered it to him as her eyes filled with tears.

“What is the meaning behind this gesture?” Mairon raised his eyebrows, a little mockingly staring at the ring in her trembling hand.

“I want you to keep it, a memory of me,” she explained. “A memory of who I am now, before your master bends me to his will,” she added and Mairon swallowed thickly at her words. “Please,” she begged and he finally took the ring from her hand and caressed it with his fingers.

“Why are you giving this to me? It was me who brought this down upon you and it was me delivering you to him,” Mairon asked, confused.

“Who am I supposed to give it to?” She asked and laughed through the tears as she looked around. No one else was there. Then, her face became serious again. “I can still feel the light of Valinor deep within you,” she whispered, her voice nearly inaudible and a shiver went down his spine at her words. “You are a Maia. An emissary of the Valar.”

“I serve only one of them,” he explained.

“Whatever. You just do what you were made for – you serve,” she nodded and turned her head around, leaving his head a mess.

Her words were an explanation why she couldn’t hate him completely. But they also were an insulting reminder that he was nothing compared to his master – he was replaceable and meaningless.

“We should go,” he muttered and hid the ring inside one of his pockets.

Mairon played with Tasarë’s ring between his fingers for one last time before breaking it apart in his forge to extract the red ruby stone and put it in (Y/N)’s crown. Made of her father’s iron and decorated with her mother’s stone, it was pretty humble and smaller than Mairon’s but he made sure it looked as intimidating as his own.

He did not mean to insult his wife with its design – quite the contrary. Her power was of the raw kind and she did not need any further decorations. Unlike him, humbly Maia who was constantly trying to hide the fact he still felt like a nobody. And he knew he would not have to explain it to her because she would know – she could read his mind, after all.

When the crown was forged, he took it carefully into his hands and carried it back to the chambers he was sharing now with her. (Y/N) was standing by the window and staring outside, sighing at the only sight she had ever known – endless snow and cold.

“When will we leave here, Sauron?” She asked with a whine.

“Soon, my darling. Very soon. Look what I have for you,” she smiled gently and could feel his cheeks burning.

This, so far, was the most significant gift he had ever given her. Perhaps even while proposing to her he had not been so nervous.

She turned around and he held his breath, waiting for her opinion and he knew that she was a cruel judge of his presents and craft.

(Y/N)’s eyes widened and she froze for a moment before approaching him to take a better look.

“It surely holds lots of power,” she nodded as her fingertips caressed the ruby of the crown. She smiled to herself, sensing her mother as she looked at her husband’s face, finding his eyes. She searched his mind to look for the explanation and then she nodded at him. “Did you love my mother?” She asked, suddenly.

Mairon’s heart skipped a beat.

“She was not mine to love,” he only answered.

“And I am?” (Y/N)’s eyes sparkled cruelly. She could have promised him hundreds of times she would never hurt him but sometimes her father’s nature would overtake her in those little moments, keeping him on his toes. He did not believe her promises at all.

In fact, he was quite scared of his own wife. But that was the price he had to pay for binding himself to such a powerful creature just to be able to bask in her light and to use her power to increase his own influence.

“I understand that you do not like the crown,” he admitted his defeat, looking down.

“On the contrary. It is splendid. Your finest work so far, husband,” she explained and took the item gently from his hands as he laid his eyes on her once more – his needy, yearning gaze, desperate for her praise. “It is simple and humble and yet so powerful, detailed and exquisite. It takes real talent of the greatest craftsman to forge such a beauty,” she admitted and put it onto her head before turning around to look at herself in the mirror. She was smiling and Mairon took a deep breath out of relief.

“I shall inform Adar to gather his armies for our coronation,” Mairon bowed his head slightly.

“Do we need an official coronation? In front of these… creatures?” (Y/N) winced. “We can do whatever we want, can we not?”

“Yes, of course we can,” Mairon cleared his throat. What he really meant was that she could do whatever she wanted. But even that was not entirely true because her lack of experience would soon overshadow her natural inheritance. “It will just send a message to all the right people and look more significant in their eyes if we go through with the whole ceremony.”

“We did not have any ceremony for our wedding,” she pointed out. “You truly show your priorities now, dear husband.”

“Marriage is a sacred and intimate union, I do not care for the audience when it comes to it. My love and devotion are only for you to see,” he answered.

“I understand,” she nodded and turned her head around to look directly into his eyes instead of reading his face from the mirror’s reflection. “But on the next day after our coronation we are leaving this place. And we are never coming back here.”

“Yes, my Lady,” Mairon nodded.

“In fact, I have a perfect usage for the North,” she shrugged her arms and looked back into the mirror to adjust the crown on her head and admire herself.

“And that is…?” Mairon furrowed his brows, a little scared of her answer.

“It will be a perfect prison for our enemies, it is going to be where we will send those who refuse to follow us,” she smiled.

“Why would we not simply kill them?” Mairon wondered out loud. That seemed like a waste of resources.

“And where is the fun in that?” She huffed, reminding him of her father once more.

And then, she reminded him of Melkor even more because she added the line his old master had often been repeating:

“You are too stiff. One of the best things about holding power is that we set the rules and we can make them as enjoyable as we wish.”

They completed each other. His robes were red and heavily decorated with golden elements and details such as chains and embroidered words in black speech. Her robes were the same, only golden with red thread and red decorations. Together they presented themselves very regal but it was very clear which one of them held more power even though she was standing behind him with her hands clasped behind her back.

(Y/N) could feel Adar’s eyes on her, eyeing her up and down constantly but as much as she tried to get inside his mind, he was pushing her away. It was nearly embarrassing that she could not get through but there were things her husband did not know of – for example that her power was not as vast as he thought. 

With proper training, perhaps one day she could live up to the image he had of her inside his mind but the real reason why she could search through him so easily was because she shared a special bond with Mairon. Her father had left the door open within his servant’s broken and twisted mind and it was easy for her to sneak in now, especially when he was not really fighting her abilities back – trained like a good dog by Melkor to obey such infiltrating requests and just allow it to happen.

Adar was shaped by Melkor, too, but he was different. He held no love in his heart for his former master. And… simply – nearly embarrassingly simply – (Y/N) did not love him.

But she loved Mairon and he loved her. That was making the whole deal of reading his mind much easier.

She could only guess what Adar was thinking but she could sense some odd mix of pity and resentment upon his face whenever he looked at her. 

When the right time came, he nodded at her and she took a step ahead to touch her husband’s arm and squeeze it. He turned his head to glance at her with a soft smile.

“We can start now,” she whispered and he nodded.

“Are you sure you do not want to do this with me?” He asked.

“No, better not… I am not yet prepared to give speeches,” she took a few steps back again to hide a little in the shadows, as if it was possible while wearing such robes.

Mairon licked his lips and took a deep breath in before addressing the filthy creatures staring at him with widened eyes, curiously waiting for his words.

He nearly felt embarrassed that they were the army he was offering to his wife. She deserved real, powerful battalions. And she would have them very soon once they’d conquer more lands.

“Always, after a defeat… the shadow takes another shape and grows again,” he began, watching two Orcs carrying two crowns on black, velvet cushions. Once more, he winced a little at the realisation how humiliating it had to be for his wife to have her crown being carried to her by such a filthy creature. “Morgoth is gone,” he continued, “leaving us alone and disgraced. But today, a new age begins,” he added and fidgeted with his fingers, nervously. “Under me and my wife. Your new masters. Sauron and Lady (Y/N),” he introduced the woman the Orcs were the most curious about as he reached out his arm and she sighed, taking it and walking up to him to show herself although she had just asked him not to put her on display.

“What they say is true. My wife is a daughter of Morgoth,” Mairon announced, proudly and with a big grin on his face.

“And my husband – his most faithful and powerful Lieutenant,” (Y/N) announced, trying to legitimise his claims in the eyes of their army.

Perhaps she deserved it all more than him but the truth was that without his support she would not go far. He was far more experienced than her and he had been taking part in real battles for her father. 

“And with a new age, we bring you a new vision. A path to unconditional conquest,” Mairon promised, addressing the Orcs but squeezing his wife’s hand and she squeezed his back, sensing his nervousness. “For we seek a new kind of power,” he let go of her hand and raised his own as he spoke as if he was giving them all a lesson. (Y/N) clasped her hands on her abdomen, nearly humbly, but she remained right by his side this time without retreating to the shadows. “Not of the flesh, but over flesh. A power of the unseen world. One we shall use to enslave the peoples of Middle-earth to our very will,” Mairon explained.

The Orcs looked at each other and hummed to themselves, quite satisfied with such a promise. (Y/N) cracked a smile at her husband and he smiled back but his face went very serious again.

“Many Orcs will die,” he added and the atmosphere inside the room shifted immediately as the Orcs changed their humming into growling.

“But out of the chaos, we will forge a new and perfect order. No longer will we be hunted as the demons who broke Middle-earth, but rather worshipped as the saviours who finally healed it,” Mairon tried to show some excitement while explaining his plan to the Orcs, hoping they would share his enthusiasm. After all, they were not very intelligent beings. “By bringing its peoples together, to rule them all as one!” He raised his hands but the Orcs were not calmed down at all.

Malicious whispers in Black Speech echoed through the room – “Sauron lies”.

(Y/N) moved uncomfortably and glanced at her husband but he was too embarrassed to lay his eyes upon her as well. He was slowly starting to feel humiliated and to be humbled in front of her was nearly as dreadful as death. He was desperate to prove his worth to her, to make her see that he was truly a worthy successor of her father. But whatever he was proving now was the fact he was nothing but still his pathetic servant. A shadow of Melkor.

“Doubt me at your peril,” he continued but his voice slightly trembled out of nervousness and he clasped his hands in the same manner as his wife had clasped hers. However, he managed to lower his voice once more and make it sound dark again. “You have nowhere else to turn. The Valar will never forgive you. Elves will never accept you,” he pointed out. “Men… Men will never look upon you with anything but horror and disgust,” he added with a hint of satisfaction and contempt.

The Orcs’ growling did not stop. In fact it had gotten worse.

“A corrupted and ignoble race, worthy only to be haunted and slaughtered,” Mairon ignored their unhappy reaction as he went on.

From the corner of her eye, (Y/N) spotted one of the Orcs standing nearby – chosen to be one of their personal guards – shifting slightly and she spotted a dagger in his hands.

“Watch out!” She gasped at her husband and took a step back, watching him turn around quite elegantly and slitting the Orc’s throat swiftly in self-defence.

The audience went completely quiet and (Y/N) blinked a few times at the sight. She had never witnessed her husband like that and if he cared so much about proving his worth – perhaps at this very moment he just had.

The Orc fell down to his knees, choking on his own blood. (Y/N) approached Mairon, feeling Adar’s intense gaze on her back. Her husband pulled the Orc even closer to himself and watched the life leaving his victim with fascination and resentment. (Y/N) tilted her head and watched, too.

And after a while, she reached for her own dagger and finished the assassin off with a few systematic and rough thrusts. After the last one, the Orc’s body fell down lifeless and bleeding. (Y/N) looked up into her husband’s eyes. She could sense he was surprised and impressed but he chose not to show it.

Mairon turned around to run his hands through his ginger hair that had gotten ruffled in the fight. He wanted to always present himself neatly in front of his followers, therefore he smoothed them in a nonchalant manner that also betrayed his nervousness.

(Y/N) did not bother to fix anything about her appearance while she hid her blade away without even wiping it. Her anger rose as she looked at the filthy army of the Orcs below them.

“We are your only future and our path is your only path!” She yelled at them, feeling her face swelling up with thick, black blood she inherited from her father’s cursed flesh he had been bound to. Another long silence occurred at her outburst and she felt herself calming down a little at the sight of the Orcs tilting their heads. Perhaps only now they had truly realised whose daughter she really was and that it was not wise to raise her anger. “Who among you dare say otherwise?” She asked, calmly.

No one dared to say anything, therefore she stood by Adar’s side and he took Mairon’s crown from one of the velvet cushions. Her husband was supposed to be crowned first and she cracked a smile at him once he was kneeling down, presenting himself nearly humbly as he waited for Morgoth’s reforged crown to be put onto his head.

The Orcs were growling and snarling when Adar raised the crown to show it to them but now, when (Y/N) had tasted their blood, she was not afraid to taste more. She would fight each one of them if she had to. It was her right. Her father had created them and they had no right to question her or her husband.

She had chosen Mairon to be her companion. Perhaps he had been manipulating her into this choice but, in the end, it had been entirely her decision to choose him despite everything. The only person in the whole world who had any right to question him was she. Nobody else.

She was about to become the Queen of Middle-earth and only the Queen could question her King Consort. The one she had chosen for herself.

She got a little dreamy thinking all these thoughts and spotted Mairon looking up to meet her gaze. He was so uncertain at the moment, so humiliated and so humble… Her heart clenched inside her chest as she sent him an encouraging and loving smile. It visibly soothed him and he looked down once more.

Perhaps he would never be truly worthy of her but still – out of all the men in Middle-earth – he was the most worthy one.

“All Hail, Lord Sauron and Lady (Y/N)!” Adar exclaimed in the Black Speech. “The New Dark Lord and The Dark Queen.”

A shiver of anticipation travelled down her body. Perhaps her husband would never be truly worthy of her but the truth was – she would not have been there if it was not for him. He made it all possible. He was the one to take her back from her father’s cold realm created to protect her. Because, genuinely, she was not sure if she had been able to get out of there alone.

She owed him everything just like he owed everything to her.

“All hail!” The Orcs chanted hesitantly and Adar walked up to Mairon.

(Y/N) watched Adar carefully – something was not right about him, something was very off-putting and very worrying. She furrowed her brows and then she realised what he was about to do after raising the crown up and turning it around in a swift movement, directing the iron spikes at Mairon.

“No!” She yelled and jumped into the front but a sharp pain in the abdomen stopped her from continuing.

“No!” It was Mairon’s turn to scream now as she looked down and saw the spikes of her father’s crown buried deep into her stomach. She raised her eyes and furrowed her brows at Adar – her assassin. There was satisfaction written all over his face.

“I pitied you… But you are just like him,” he whispered before taking the spikes out of her body and turning around to attack Mairon with them now. (Y/N) reached her hands out weakly but she fell to her knees and grabbed her hurt stomach.

She should not die easily – after all she was half a Vala. But she was also half an Elf and the Vala who was her father had been bound to his flesh. Therefore, an item so powerful was able to defeat her – or at least to destroy her flesh.

She choked at the blurred sight of her husband being pierced through with Morgoth’s crown and then a bunch of Orcs came at him. He was trying to fight them back bravely and get to her, shouting her name but it was all for nothing. There were too many of the Orcs keeping them apart and tearing him to pieces.

(Y/N) sobbed and Adar crouched down next to her, holding her chin up so her dying eyes could still see her husband’s torment.

“The legacy of your father is gone now,” Adar whispered right before she lost consciousness.

When (Y/N) came back to reality, she felt her own presence but there was no shape nor flesh around it. She existed as a spirit and she found herself inside the very same hall she had been slain in but it was empty now. There were dark shadows where her body and her husband’s body had laid in the puddles of thick, black blood as anger filled her whole presence at the memory of betrayal.

She felt the cold wind coming inside through the doors and she was on her way outside, already trying to come up with what her next flesh would look like. She had lost the one she was given by birth – the one which actually looked like a mix of her mother and the body her father had been bound to. But now she would forge a new flesh for herself and she had to admit that was quite exciting. Perhaps without pointy ears this time – to blend in with the crowd.

Her plan was to leave the North and to go South. To join the humans and the Elves and all the other creatures living there – to meet them, to see how they lived, to learn their patterns and about the world she was supposed to rule one day.

Finally she would leave the land of the endless snow. Where once her father and then her husband had kept her as if she was their prisoner.

But as she moved closer and closer to the door, she felt a tugging presence within the walls of the abandoned fortress. Sauron.

He was still alive somehow – in a way – just like she was but much weaker and not as aware of his own self as she was. It was no surprise, after all he was only a Maia.

And if she left him now, perhaps he would never survive on his own.

(Y/N) froze right in front of the doors leading outside. She wanted to go, she really did. She had craved to see the world ever since she had been a little girl…

But she could not leave him. She could not leave Sauron. Her husband. 

She remembered his nervous smile, his fidgeting fingers, his ginger hair, his blushing cheeks. How he would steal delicate kisses from her, how they would lay in each other’s arms under the covers and whisper sweet things. How his eyelashes would brush the skin of her cheeks in the most intimate moments.

She could not leave him. He needed her.

Even though she was not sure if he would do the same thing for her.

And just like that, she retreated and went down to the dark, cold and damp corridors under the fortress. And even though she was capable of forging herself a new flesh much quicker than he was, she delayed it because she allowed his weak and pathetic form to feed off of her energy to keep him strong and alive. She was giving herself away to him – piece by piece, which was slowing down her own progress of forging new body but it was increasing the speed of his. And she nearly felt chained with her own devotion instead of the real chains – just like her mother remained chained to her father in some foreign realm where Melkor was being punished.

“You can heal, too,” Mairon assured (Y/N) and reached out to help the dying butterfly. “Look,” he focused on giving away some of his energy to make the butterfly regain its strength and the young woman’s eyes sparkled as she laughed.

“You fed him with your own spirit,” (Y/N) noticed. “Why do you think I would let any parasite feed off of me? Who would be ever worthy of sharing my power?” She asked and Mairon’s mouth opened slightly.

This conversation had taken place when they had first met. Apparently, she found out the answer to her question – who would ever be worthy of sharing her power? He was.

(Y/N) was half-Elf and Elves were mortal creatures in a way they could be slain or fatally injured. When Adar had killed her, he had killed the elven part of her. The light was gone from her body now and it was no longer a question of whether she would tilt into the light or the darkness. Oh, no… The decision was made.

“Once we get out of here, once we forge ourselves new flesh, my darling,” she cooed to the black, slimy creature that remained all left of her husband at the moment, “we will have our revenge. And do not even try to stop me from destroying anything or anyone,” she threatened as the black, weakly breathing substance whined. “You are right, my sweet, the world needs to be healed. But it is far too rotten. We have to start over. We have to rebuild it once more, from the ashes of the current one. The Dark Queen and her Dark Lord.”

She had been nothing but a chrysalis so far but – soon – she would bloom into a beautifully terrifying butterfly.

Into her father’s daughter.

MASTERLIST

[mskenway97]

I had this in mind for some time and some ideas made me think about this story. It takes place during the course of the 'Alpha/Omega' episode of transformers prime after Optimus lost the Star Saber.

Tfp Optimus Prime x Fem!human!reader

I will stay

Words: 1,576

Summary: You haven't heard from your guardian for days, when you got the news from Jack that a new weapon had been discovered. You decided to stop by to see why he wasn't talking to you like before to discover a side of him you didn't know.

Warning: angst, sorrow, g/t content, g/t confort fluff

You knew something wasn't right, ever since he came back with his memory restored. Something was keeping you upset, you felt that he had put up a wall that you couldn't get through. That didn't happen before. You met him by chance bad timing, a detour home several Vehicons and a big robot of almost 30 ft. Since then he had taken care of you, as Ratchet refused to be the guardian, plus you were older than the children on the base to your surprise. You befriended them, but you were always intrigued by Prime, and little by little you were able to talk about various things. Seeing what caught his attention… Apart from the popular culture books of Earth and what I was dedicated to. Partly little by little you began to fall in love with this metallic giant, his kindness, his concern, his dedication to the Earth. To feel safe among his servos, or to sit on his shoulder while he worked, little details that mattered a lot to you. But at the same time they made you feel helpless, helping Miko and Raf was easy. Engaging Ratchet in conversation was a challenge. Understanding Bumblebee was a challenge. But you tried because you wanted to get to know them better. Everything started to change since Unicron showed up, the day Optimus left… Those were the worst days for you, you didn't know how much you needed him… the sound of his voice, the touch of his finger when he stroked your hair…

He came back to you but interactions started to be more limited, he would pick you up from work: Arcee or Bulkhead. Only Ratchet stayed at the base…. That made you feel partly miserable, you knew he had great work, great responsibility but at the same time you wanted to help him. That he just didn't show that stoic side to all the people. But you were only a small human, between a war of enormous titans. You could only stand by and watch, you wished you could do more, could help more. But you were just an ant in comparison…. You wished at least to see him smile, at least just once… If only you could comfort him, do something. You would do anything. This was eating you up more and more. Until the deadline came when Jack started telling you about a new weapon the autobots had found: Star Saber, it seemed they had an advantage to win, at least something that looked like they would win the war once and for all. That day you left work late at night, but you knew Optimus would be at the base, so you called Ratchet for a groundbridge. You watched with all the joy in the world. Until you saw Ratchet's long faces, the others were patrolling. You didn't understand what was going on until you saw a weapon completely destroyed.

-Ratchet, what happened? - you asked as you climbed the stairs. Ratchet sighed as he looked at the command center - Star Saber was destroyed, Megatron found a way to create his own Star Saber with Dark Energon.

-How is this possible? Solus Prime's forge can only be used by one.

-Megatron found a way… Optimus fought against him, with some injury but he will be

-Damage?! - you said as Ratchet tried to calm you down.

-He's fine. You should go home… Something in you jumped, you were sick of having to leave, of having to be pulled back - No, not this time. I'm going to talk to him. Don't even think of stopping me - you said seriously as you walked down the hallway without listening to Ratchet's words to reason with you. You moved quickly down the long hallway to get to Optimus' room, you didn't think, you acted on pure instinct and emotion. You wanted to know how he was doing, he didn't care if he tried to kick you out, he wasn't going to back down too. you weren't going to leave him behind, you weren't going to give up anymore. You tried knocking on the huge door to see that it wasn't locked, which surprised you since Optimus was always careful with his room and his secrets. He hadn't let you in either due to various reasons that the autobot leader always made an excuse for. Then you walked in to see around a room that had a huge desk, next to a bed, what appeared to be a pile of datapads on the desk table. You stood admiring the place, as you looked like a little doll or toy as you walked around. The door behind you closed, you jumped in fright. Then you saw Optimus, he seemed to be leaning on his bed. At least you had a fix on him, the problem was how to get to him.

It was not easy for you to get to the bed but with a lot of patience you climbed up one of the bed spreads, you approached carefully so that he would not crush you when he moved, you were in front of his face about to wake him up but you noticed on his face in his optics rather, there was something blue liquid. Biologically, humans and cybetronians were not so different… He was crying… You approached him carefully as you touched his faceplate, it felt cold but at the same time you heard a small engine noise, you saw that he opened the optics slowly to see your face so close to him. You thought he was going to refuse or push you away, you were about to respond but contrary to what you thought, his servo grabbed you to pull you to his chest and place you close to his spark. He was stroking your back with his other servo, feeling a great warmth but you shook your head at what you initially came for. This bot had great skill in reading your mind, he already knew why you were here.

-You were worried about me… I am sorry for my absence these days, little one. Matters have led me into situations to keep you and the rest safe. You clenched your fist, a little clenched your jaw, I was doing it again….

-Don't do it… Optimus was confused to hear you - Pardon?

-Don't you dare hide how you feel in front of me, I know you're trying to protect me…. But what matters to me is how you feel, don't you dare say it's not important, war is important. You are distancing yourself from everyone…

-Little girl, I…

-Don't you dare do this alone… When Unicron arrived you disappeared. I thought you really left - you said trying to keep your tone of voice without tears - You walked away, I don't care if it's for my protection, I don't care how many times you try to push me away, I will stay… I will not leave here - you said determinedly as you looked at the optics. There was a deafening silence between the two of you, you looked at each other with determination that your words, then you felt his arms around you squeezing you a little you felt him leaning you to his chassis. You looked at his optics to see the tears coming back to him.

The burdens of a leader are something I must keep, I stayed away for your protection. I may win some battles others I may lose them with quite a few consequences: the Star Saber, Raf's life was close too…. If it hadn't been Raf… - he said as he lifted me up to look at you better - and if it had been you, I wouldn't have forgiven myself…. The words the giant had said had hit hard in your heart, as he wrapped his servos around you as if to protect you from the world -… I can't lose you like that - he said in a low voice. That made a little more of a dent in you, but you moved closer to his face, leaned gently to his cheek as you saw that his optics were focused on you.

-I know, that's how I've been feeling these days too…. I don't want to lose you like this either.

You gave her a soft kiss on her cheek, which had the effect of sounding her engines a little as she squeezed you a little closer in her servos, you felt her nuzzle to you. You had missed these interactions so much, you had missed her too much.

-Next time, try talking to me. I know I can't share your burden, but I'll listen to you as long as it takes - you said as she put you back closer to her chassis but closer to her spark.

-I will try for you. And I will never leave you alone again - he said as you felt a big pulse of sparkle warm you up a little. That was all you needed to hear, you stayed like that for a while longer as words were not needed at that moment. Maybe when things calmed down you would tell him how you really felt about him. Just feeling his company, though, was all you needed. Maybe one day you would manage to get a smile out of him. But little by little, you felt him close your eyes to fall asleep near his chassis. Feeling at peace at last… Next to him.