#That had to be at least 9 attempts at writing one word

[call-me-chips]

Very rough light sketches I did of Tubbo and Quackity I did a while back

[incognit0slut]

Much Ado About Nothing (Act II, Scene II: The Crazy Idea)

After being cornered by your friends, you find yourself in an even more complicated position due to your impulsive decision.

Part warning: none, just my bad attempt at crack humor Words: 2.6k A/n: If you paid attention, I've been using his gifs from season 9 so the timeline is somewhere along there. And while writing half of this, I realized Emily wasn't even on that season, but for the sake of fanfiction and pure imagination, let's ignore the human error of this stupid author. Thank you. Let me know what you think!!

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

It took you exactly seven hours and fifteen minutes to finally gather the courage to head to Penelope's lair. The morning had been a blur of paperwork and reports, leaving you mentally drained and chained to your desk. But no matter how much work you plowed through, your mind kept drifting back to last night's disaster and how your friends had planned the whole thing.

Frustration wasn’t enough to describe how you felt. You found yourself gripping your pen so tightly it threatened to snap in your hand, and your fingers pounded the keyboard harder than necessary as you typed out reports.

Eventually, you found yourself daydreaming about ways to get back at them. You imagined a dozen different ways to plot your revenge, each more elaborate than the last, and although it provided a temporary sense of satisfaction, it wasn't enough. 

By the time you wrapped up your last report, your frustration had reached its peak. You decided you couldn't wait any longer. You headed to JJ's desk first, hoping to catch her and get some answers, but it was empty. With no sign of her anywhere and your patience wearing thin, there was only one other person who might have the answers you needed.

You made a beeline for Penelope’s office. The moment her door came into view, you knocked sharply and then entered without waiting for a response. You weren’t surprised when you found Penelope and JJ huddled over a monitor, their heads snapping up in sync at your abrupt entrance.

“There she is!” Penelope exclaimed, turning around in her chair. “We were just talking about you.”

“Oh, really?” you replied, crossing your arms. “I wonder what could possibly be so interesting about me.”

Penelope and JJ exchanged a quick look, barely suppressing their chuckles. 

“How did it go last night?”

You groaned at the memory. “I can’t believe you guys tricked me!”

JJ laughed and turned to you, her expression almost apologetic. “Look, we’re sorry, okay? We just thought it would be…” she looked over at Penelope, trying to come up for a word before settling with, “Fun.”

“Fun?” You exclaimed. “Manipulating your friends into awkward situations is your idea of fun?“

Penelope waved her hand dismissively. “It couldn't have been that bad. Did you guys talk it out?”

You stared at her pointedly as if the idea of you having that conversation with him was absurd.

“No.”

“Did he apologize for anything?”

“No.”

“Come on, there had to be some deep, meaningful conversation,” JJ chimed in, trying to hold back a grin.

You scoffed. “No.”

“Did he walk you home?”

“No—wait, yes, he did,” you admitted, recalling the memory. “But he complained the whole time about how inefficient my route was and how there were, and I quote, statistically shorter paths to my apartment.”

“How sweet of him,” Penelope observed, deciding to ignore the last part of your rant. Then she wiggled her eyebrows. “Did he lean in for a goodnight kiss?”

“What? No!” You sat on the only empty chair in the room, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “Nothing happened.”

“Did he at least say something sweet when he walked you home?” Penelope prodded, trying to dig deeper.

You shook your head, a resigned sigh escaping you. “No, because it was nothing like that. We talked, we ate, he walked me home. That’s it.”

“Sounds like the start of something to me.”

“Totally the start of something,” Penelope nodded enthusiastically.

You rolled your eyes. “There’s nothing to start because we can’t even stand each other.”

“Well you know what they say,” Penelope sang. “There’s a thin line between love and hate.”

You narrowed your eyes at her, trying not to show how unnerving her assumptions were. "That's ridiculous."

“But he walked you home,” she pointed out.

“So?”

“So that’s got to be something,” JJ joined in. “Spencer’s not exactly known for going out of his way unless he wants to.”

“He was just being polite,” you insisted, feeling cornered. “He walked me home because my apartment was on the way to his place.”

Penelope tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, on his way, or making a way?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling a headache brewing. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Maybe he’s being subtle about it,” JJ suggested, trying to sound reasonable. “He’s not that forward when it comes to expressing his feelings.”

“No, guys, it wasn’t anything like that,” you insisted, your voice rising slightly in frustration as your eyes moved between the two of them. The room felt smaller with each passing second, the walls closing in as they stared at you expectantly. They were enjoying this way too much.

“Oh, but it could be,” Penelope persisted. “You’re both single, smart, attractive people who spend a lot of time together.”

“You two are unbelievable.”

“It’s okay, you can tell us,” she continued, her voice softer now as she reached out to pat your hand. “We’re your friends, and if there’s something more, we’d love to support you.”

“Or if you prefer to keep it a secret, we won’t tell anyone.”

“Exactly. You can trust us. We’re really good at keeping secrets.”

“So good.”

“So good.”

Your patience snapped, frustration and pressure boiling over. “Fine! Yes! We’re going on another date!” You blurted out, the lie spilling out in a moment of desperation before you could stop. “Happy now?”

Silence fell over the room as Penelope and JJ stared at you, stunned. Then slowly, realization dawned on their faces, and a chorus of excited squeals filled the air.

“Oh, I knew it!” Penelope exclaimed, clapping her hands in delight.

JJ grinned at you. “Really?”

The weight of your words hit you like a cold splash of water.

What had you just done?

“This is so exciting!” Penelope gushed, her enthusiasm mounting. Then she turned to you. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

You suddenly felt a wave of panic. You scanned their faces, seeing only genuine excitement and curiosity, no hint of doubt and discomfort swelling inside you. How could you explain that there was nothing to tell because there was no second date? That it was just a knee-jerk reaction to their relentless teasing? You couldn't possibly confess now, not without making everything infinitely worse.

But how were supposed to tell him? The idea of deceiving not just your friends but also involving Spencer in this lie made you feel sick. The room seemed to spin as you tried to come up with some way to ease the damage.

“I... I wanted it to be a surprise?” You managed to say, although the words sounded more like a question. Your lie felt hollow even to your own ears, but Penelope and JJ seemed to buy it, nodding and exchanging excited glances.

“This is going to be amazing,” Penelope said, practically bouncing in her chair. “So when’s the next date?”

Your mind raced. For there to be a next date, even a pretend one, you needed to talk to him. The realization hit you hard, the full weight of the lie you'd just created sinking in. You'd have to involve him in this deception and the thought made you feel queasy. You imagined the awkward conversation, the look of confusion—and likely frustration—on his face. This was going to be a mess.

You opened your mouth, then closed it, scrambling for a response. “Uh, soon. I-I’ve got to go talk to him about it, actually.”

Penelope’s eyes lit up even more. “Oh, planning it together! That’s so sweet!”

You forced a smile, slowly rising from your seat. “Yeah, super sweet,” you mumbled, your voice barely steady. You could feel your cheeks burning as you stumbled over your lies. “I, uh, better go find him now.”

Without waiting for a response, you bolted out of the room, your heart pounding in your chest. You mentally kicked yourself with every step. You had let them get to you, allowing their teasing to push you into this mess. You couldn’t believe you had let yourself get caught up in this lie.

You paused in the hallway, briefly considering turning back and telling them the truth. The thought lingered for a moment, the idea of ending this charade before it spiraled further out of control. But you quickly shook your head, knowing that backtracking now would only make things worse. You could already imagine how unbearable the teasing and explanations would be.

No, you’ve gone too far to back out now.

Continuing down the hallway, your steps quickened as you searched for him. You finally spotted him by the pantry, absentmindedly pouring too much sugar into his coffee. You walked up to him and leaned against the counter, watching him stir his coffee with more force than necessary.

“I did something stupid,” you blurted out, catching his attention. He looked up before glancing back down at his cup.

“Why am I not surprised?”

“No, listen.” You leaned in closer, lowering your voice. “It’s about last night.”

He finally looked at you, eyebrows raised, clearly surprised as to why you would bring up anything from last night.

“What about last night?” He asked, bringing his cup to his lips.

The words tumbled out in a rush. “I was with JJ and Garcia, and they were teasing me about us, how we supposedly have this… thing going on now. I couldn’t take it anymore. So…” You watched him take a sip of his coffee. “…I told them we’re going on another date.”

He choked, the drink catching in his throat. Coughing, he set the cup down with a sharp clatter, his eyes watering slightly as he regained his composure.

“You told them what?”

“I didn’t know what else to do!” You rushed to explain. “They wouldn’t stop pushing and I just wanted them to shut up. I thought if I said something like that, they’d just leave me alone. But now they expect details, and I… I need your help.”

He took a deep breath, trying to process what you were asking of him. “Let me get this straight. You, of all people, told them we’re going on another date, knowing full well how we—” He paused, searching for the right words. “How we don’t get along. And now you want me to help you keep up this lie?”

You nodded, and he called out your name in frustration.

"Last night wasn't even a date!”

“I know! The words just… came out.” When you saw him shake his head disapprovingly, you let out a groan. “I’m not thrilled about it either, okay? But I’m kind of… desperate here.”

Spencer took another sip of his coffee, his eyes never leaving yours. After a moment, he set the cup down, gripping it in his hand.

“No.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “No?”

“No,” he confirmed before turning around, walking back to his desk. “I’m not going to help you.”

You shuffled along, trying to match his pace. “Why not? This could actually get them to stop.”

“Do you even hear yourself? This is crazy. You can’t just spin lies and drag me into them because you want to avoid a little teasing,” he retorted, sitting down and starting to shuffle through some papers on his desk, clearly trying to end the conversation.

“It’s not a little teasing! They’re relentless,” You pressed, leaning against his desk. “Come on, don’t you ever get tired of them trying to set us up?”

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to pretend to date you. What’s next? A fake wedding?”

“Don’t be dramatic. We just need to show up together a couple of times, act mildly interested in each other, and then we can break up. We fake it, we tell them it didn’t work out, and we move on. It’s simple.”

“Of course, because nothing says ‘simple’ like faking an entire relationship.”

You crossed your arms and took a deep, calming breath. “Look, I know it’s not the greatest plan, but can you think of a better way to get them off our backs?”

Spencer stared at you, his eyes narrowing as he considered your words. “You realize you’re trying to deceive a team of profilers, right?”

He had a point, but you weren’t about to back down. “Wasn’t this your whole idea in the first place?”

“My idea was for us to act like we get along, not pretend that we’re in love.”

“It doesn’t even have to be convincing,” you argued, leaning in slightly. “Just enough to make them back off for a while. Besides, if you start laying it on too thick, they’ll never believe it. They know you don’t have much experience to begin with.”

Spencer looked offended, his brows knitting together. “I have experience,” he countered. “Just because I’m not flaunting it doesn’t mean I’m completely clueless.”

“Oh, yeah? When was the last time you were in a relationship?”

The words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, and when you noticed the sudden change in his demeanor, you realized what you had just implied. There was a tensed pause as you both stared at each other. You both knew the answer to that question, and you both knew you were treading dangerous territory.

But before either of you could break the silence, a voice cut through the tension. “What are you two lovebirds fighting about now?”

You turned to see Derek standing by his own desk, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. And then you saw it, an opportunity. If Spencer wasn’t going to agree to help willingly, you were going to take matters into your own hands.

You straightened your shoulders and faced Derek. “We need to tell you something.”

Spencer sensed what you were about to do and quickly stood up. “Wait—“

“Reid and I are dating.”

You heard Spencer take a sharp inhale. There was no turning back. The nerves in your stomach tightened, but you decided to ignore it and focus your attention on Derek instead. His eyes widened in surprise, looking between the two of you.

“You’re serious?”

“Yes,” you said firmly, crossing your arms and standing your ground, while Spencer remained silent beside you, his expression unreadable. “We decided to give it a shot.”

“At dating? As in romantically?”

“I don’t think there’s another way to describe it.”

Derek stared at you both for a moment longer, then his shock gave way to a broad grin. “Finally.” He let out an amused laugh “Took you two long enough.”

He approached with a playful swagger, clapping Spencer on the shoulder and ruffling your hair, which you quickly swatted away. “Can’t say that I’m surprised, but congratulations.”

Spencer looked at you, and you glanced back at him. Derek, oblivious to the tension between you two, grinned widely.

“I guess all that tension was just unresolved passion, huh?”

Your eyes snapped at him. “Morgan!”

“Alright, alright.” He raised his hands in mock surrender, still wearing a broad smile. “I’m just happy for you both. Seriously.”

You stared at him, bracing yourself for more teasing, perhaps a joke about what supposedly happened last night, or worse, something embarrassingly inappropriate. But to your surprise, Derek didn’t press further. Instead, he simply nodded with a genuine smile and returned to his desk, resuming his work.

You and Spencer stood there, dumbfounded, not quite sure how to process the sudden shift. You both were so used to his relentless teasing that his quick exit left you momentarily speechless.

You slightly leaned towards him as you continued to stare at Derek hunched over his desk.

“Do you hear that noise?” You whispered.

“What noise?”

“Exactly. This is the sound of peace,” you replied with a slight grin, turning back to Spencer. “See? This is already working. If we keep this up, we can finally get them off our backs.”

“I still think this is a bad idea,” he muttered, giving you a pointed look.

“Do you have a better plan?” you challenged, raising an eyebrow. “Because I’m all ears if you do.”

Spencer sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. He studied you for a moment, his eyes searching your face as if weighing the pros and cons. “I can’t believe I’m even considering this…” He trailed off, looking genuinely conflicted. “This is going to backfire, you know that, right?”

Sure, he could be right, but at the same time, you believed this plan was harmless. It seemed like a simple solution: a fake relationship played out convincingly enough to appease your friends. It was supposed to be straightforward—an act, a performance without real consequences. Nothing could go wrong if you controlled the narrative.

You finally looked up at him. “Don’t worry,” you said, trying to sound confident. “It won’t.”

But as the words left your mouth, you realized, you weren't entirely convinced.

[jenosbigtoe]

na jaemin x catgirl!reader (M)

minors dni

summary: jaemin finds a stray catgirl and takes her under his wing.

warnings: hybrid au. lots of fluff :3, bratty!reader, dom!jaemin, big dick nana, loss of virginity, breeding, creampie, unprotected sex, mild squirting, kitty eating (lmao), fingering, fellatio, praise kink

word count: 6.0k

a/n: jaemin is the biggest cat person i know (besides me duh) so why wouldn’t i write a fic about him being down bad for his lil catgirl?

jesus fuck this was long and took forever 😪 sorry it's posted later than promised but at least it's longer than my last two fics combined! lmk if you want to see more of jaem and his catgirl bc im really liking this au

“fuck this shit man.” jaemin was so sick of his boring ass 9-5 office job. every single day he deals with incompetent coworkers (how did they even graduate high school), entitled clients, and a shitty boss that wanted to put all the work on him because he knew jaemin was a good employee.

jaemin took out a pack of newports and lit a cigarette, leaning his head back against the alleyway wall and sighing in frustration. the cold winter air bit at his nose but he didn’t care. this was his one time to really relax right after work. as he was taking a long drag, a rustle from the dark alley caught his attention.

he paused. “who’s there?” jaemin squinted his eyes against the pitch black darkness. this was a shady part of town and jaemin knew better than to be hiding out in the back alleyway of a sketchy convenience store but he also had a reputation to hold up. couldn’t have anyone from his work or person life finding out the social butterfly nana was a chainsmoker and hated his life.

against his better judgement, he put out the lit cigarette and moved closer to the rustling noise. turning his phone flashlight on, he didn’t know what he’d expect to see. maybe a raccoon or a stray dog.

he certainly didn’t expect to see the sweetest little thing hiding and shivering under a dirty cardboard box. there you were, hair matted, skin covered in grime, thin clothes in tatters, brown ears pressed flat against your head. and despite your disheveled appearance, jaemin thought you were just the cutest thing he’s ever seen. as his phone flash shined directly on you, you jumped in fright, body immediately tensing up in alarm. you bared your teeth at him and hissed, claws extended.

“woah hey i’m not gonna hurt you,” jaemin back away slowly, putting his hands up.

“fuck off,” you gritted at him, sharp teeth still showing.

“what are you doing out here like this? it’s freezing and you don’t have any clothes. where’s your owner?” jaemin crouched to the ground, trying to inch closer to you but you tucked yourself smaller into the corner.

“don’t have an owner. don’t need one. m perfectly fine by myself. now leave me alone, human,” you growled at him.

jaemin attempted to reach a hand out to you but you swatted at him and hissed, leaving a small gash on his hand.

“do you have a name, kitty?” jaemin asked softly.

you continued to glare at him. “leave me alone.”

jaemin knew it would be really difficult to get you to open up but he had such a soft spot for animals, especially strays. and he couldn’t just leave you alone looking like this in the winter cold.

“kitty, it’s way too cold out for you to be here without any proper clothes.” jaemin stated. “my name is na jaemin and i only want to help you, okay?”

your body was still tensed in suspension of this stranger but as he continued to get closer to you, you got a whiff of his scent. nose scrunched up cutely, you sniffed up at the air, needing more of that delicious scent. god he smelled so so good. despite the bitter cold of the winter air, the scent of this stranger left your body feeling warm and fuzzy inside, slowly melting your tough exterior. but he was still a stranger, one you had no idea the intentions of, and you didn’t want to take any risks.

“stop patronizing me and just leave me alone, stupid human.” the longer you were around him, the less alarmed your body felt, but you still kept your guard up around this delicious smelling stranger. and jaemin didn’t miss how your body language slowly got less tense the longer you were around him.

jaemin got up slowly, deep in thought. “i’ll be right back, kitty.”

he disappeared around the corner of the alley again, leaving you feeling slightly empty. stupid, you thought. he’s just a stranger. of course he’d leave like everyone else. you knew that rationally but your body was acting so weird around this stranger.

you continued to sit there, huddled beneath the cardboard and desperately seeking warm, when the stranger came back, this time with a steaming cup and a hotdog.

“here, baby,” jaemin cooed at you, handing you the cup of hot chocolate and hotdog. for some reason, your belly felt so warm at his calling you baby. “you must be so hungry.”

you eyed the food suspiciously. “why are you being so nice to me, human? you don’t even know me. you don’t even know my name.”

“doesn’t matter to me. nobody, hybrid or human or animal, deserves to be shivering in the winter cold like this,” jaemin stated with a serious look on his face.

you cautiously grabbed the food and drink from his hand before scarfing down the hotdog in record time and chugging the hot chocolate, some cutely dripping down your chin. your brown ears twitched in happiness. god jaemin thought you were just the cutest thing.

“y/n. it’s y/n,” you mumbled at him. “thank you for the food.”

“y/n, such a cute name for the cutest kitty,” jaemin smiled brightly.

he reached one hand out slowly to brush your hair out of your face. you just about jumped at the contact, but as he scratched that sweet spot behind your ears, your tail swished in happiness and you started to pur in delight. you closed your eyes in bliss and leaned slightly into the contact.

“good girl. such a sweet girl. i know you were so frightened, all alone in this winter cold. but nana’s got you now, m’kay?” jaemin cooed at you.

your body and brain were melting. his touch felt so so good, it’s been so long since you’ve been pet like this. and his smell, god you’ve never smelled anything so delicious before.

“y/n, i know we just met and i know you must so scared right now. but i can’t just leave you like this in the cold. please, let me just take you back to my apartment and you can stay there for a couple nights. i have an extra room so don’t worry about needing to sleep with me. i’ll give you a fresh set of clothes and feed you while you’re there. but i can’t just leave you here in good faith.” jaemin gave you a sincere look, practically pleading for you to come back with him.

your tail stop swishing and you scrunched your little nose in heavy thought. on one hand, you knew next to nothing about this man and he wanted you to stay at his place? but a warm bed and a fresh set of clothes and hot meals sounded so so good… and how much harm could this good smelling stranger even do to you… the rational part of your brain was telling you no, this stranger couldn’t be trusted. who knows what he’d do to you once you were in his territory? but your body was saying otherwise, he made you feel so good inside and he could take care of you even for just a few days.

you gave a long hard stare before replying. “okay. just for a little bit,” you whispered softly, still scared out of your mind.

jaemin used his beefy arms to support your weight as he helped you stand up on shaky legs. he wrapped his winter coat around your shivering body, cooing sweet reassuring words into your ear. his scent was absolutely intoxicating to you, leaving your mind fuzzy and full of him.

as soon as you stepped into his apartment, you were greeted with three balls of white fur bombarding your legs. one licked and nibbled on your toes, another purred and rubbed itself against your legs, and the other circled around your legs, tail swishing happily. you squealed at the sight, such cute kitties!

“ah ah lucy, luke, and luna, let’s not scare our guest, okay babies?” he spoke to them in such a gentle tone, it had your heart melting.

“n-no, s’okay, nana. i love kittens,” you reached down to pet them and give them chin rubs. all three kittens cuddled close to your body and let out loud purs. jaemin’s heart fluttered at your usage of his nickname.

“what are their names?” you asked.

“this one is lucy, this one is luke, and this one is luna. i got them a few months ago. i didn’t want to separate these three siblings so i just adopted all three. aren’t they just the sweetest things?”

you nodded, letting out purs alongside the kittens. you would never tell him this now but you also thought jaemin was so sweet.

he crouched down to pet the kitties alongside you. “they must really like you. they’re not usually this sweet and welcoming to guests. guess they recognize a kitten just as cute as them too.”

you pretended to not notice his last comment but your red face and happily swishing tail gave away your happiness.

“y/n, let’s get you into the bath and some clean clothes, hm? i know you must be dying to get this grime off you,” jaemin gently whispered, still petting the three purring kitties on the floor alongside you.

you paused, ears twitching. “bath?”

“yeah, a bath,” jaemin replied, looking up at you to gauge how you felt. your nose was scrunched up cutely in disgust at the mere idea of a bath.

“don’t need one. can lick myself clean,” you grumbled, pouting slightly.

you stopped petting the kitties, who seemed very displeased at the lack of attention you were giving them, and finally took a look around his apartment. the unfamiliar environment made you slightly uneasy but somehow you knew you were going to be safe. everything just smelled so strongly of him, it made your head dizzy and belly warm.

“kitty, you need to take a bath. i’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable now but you will feel so much better after,” jaemin gently reassured you.

you shook your head, cheeks puffed and ears pinned back. “no. don’t want.”

jaemin sighed, rising to his feet. “c’mon baby. let me run a warm bath for you. i promise it will feel so good.”

he tried taking your hand but you hissed and swatted at him. “no. away.” you backed yourself into a corner.

jaemin gave you a defeated look before disappearing around a corner. you sat back down to cuddle and play with the kittens.

jaemin came back to see you playing with the kittens so happily. it seemed they really helped make you feel comfortable in this foreign environment and his cats liked you so much already.

“kitty, come with me,” he prodded at your arm.

you narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. “where are you taking me?”

“you’ll see.” jaemin decided to take it upon himself to carry you in his arms bridal style. his strength had you flinging around like a ragdoll, making you very angry.

you started clawing and biting at his arms, kicking your legs and screaming wildly. “let me go! let me go! hey!”

he brought you into a steamy bathroom and sat you on the ledge of the bubbly bathtub. he used his strength to pin your hips in place as he kneeled and situated himself between your legs.

“baby, i know you don’t want to take a bath but you need to wash this dirt off yourself. just listen to nana, hm?” he stared deep into your eyes with a serious look on his face, causing you to shift around in unease.

you broke eye contact and looked away, pouting deeply. “fine. you’ve literally given me no choice anyway. i’ll get in the stupid bath.”

you practically ripped your tattered clothes off your body and jumped straight into the water, splashing water and bubbles every where. you thrashed around wildly in the water, slipping and sliding all over the place. god, how long ago was it since you’ve had a bath like this?

jaemin reached into the water and held you firmly upright, using his thumb to rub you reassuringly. “woah, kitty. be careful, it’s dangerous to be so careless in the water. you can hurt yourself.”

“too long since i’ve had a bath like this,” you moaned, slipping under the water til your nose was just sticking out.

jaemin rolled up his sleeves and started rinsing your hair, massaging circles of shampoo into your scalp. you purred contentedly, tail swishing and splashing in the water.

“such a good kitty, doing so good for nana,” he murmured lowly as he washed and rinsed your hair and body affectionately.

you stayed in the tub, splashing around happily, until the warm water began to run cold. jaemin allowed you to step out before drying your body with a fluffy white towel. he dressed you in a pair of his grey sweatpants and a fuzzy black hoodie that smelled oh so deliciously of him. you inhaled the neckline of the hoodie deeply, his smell making your limbs dizzy and head fuzzy.

“all better now, kitty?” he smiled teasingly at you.

you gave a sheepish smile back. “thank you, nana.”

“it’s getting late, baby. let me get you a little snack. stay here on the couch,” he gave you a small peck to your head and walked to the kitchen.

his kittens strutted up to you, meowing and begging to be held. you grabbed all three in your arms and snuggled them close to your chest, pressing kisses to their fluffy fur.

jaemin walked into the living room, holding a glass of warm milk and a plate of cookies, to see you with his babies. his heart fluttered at the sight, so freaking adorable.

“this is for you, y/n,” he walked over and handed you the milk and cookies.

you smiled appreciatively at him before furrowing your eyebrows cutely. “why are you being so kind to me? we just met a few hours ago.”

jaemin shrugged his shoulders and sat next to you, grabbing lucy into his lap and stroking her fur. “i’ve always been a cat person, as you can see.”

you munched on the cookies happily and let the kittens snuggle up to you. luke and lucy fell asleep on your lap, purring contentedly. you let out a soft yawn and fluttered your eyelids. jaemin chuckled. you were just so stinking cute.

“getting sleepy, baby? i’ll take you to the guess bedroom,” he grabbed your arm, sleepy kittens still in hand, before leading you to the room right across from his bedroom.

“can i sleep with the kittens tonight?” you whispered softly.

“of course, baby,” he replied.

before he could turn to walk back to his room, you grabbed his sleeve and gave a quick peck to his cheek before scurrying to hide underneath the covers. your face was hot and red.

so freaking cute, jaemin though to himself, grinning widely.

it was the middle of the night. you didn’t even know what time it was but you couldn’t fall asleep. your mind was running a million thoughts all at once. what were you going to do when jaemin eventually got tired of you freeloading and kicked you out? how were you supposed to live back on the street now that you know what kindness feels like? you liked jaemin so much you didn’t want to leave him.

before you could think it over, you slowly got out of bed and knocked on jaemin’s door. a sleepy jaemin with a raspy voice and half-lidded eyes opened the door.

“yes, baby?” his sleepy voice was so sexy to you.

you stared hard at the ground. “m sorry for waking you, nana. i couldn’t sleep. would it be okay if i slept in here? just for tonight. you smell so good and comforting i thought maybe-“

he stopped you, lifting your chin to look you deep in your eyes. “kitty, don’t be so nervous around me. of course you can sleep in my bed, c’mon.”

he beckoned you over and lifted the comforter up, allowing you to slip in under the covers. he tried to lay a respectable foot away from you but you started whining and pawing at his arms to come closer. he scooted an inch closer but you grabbed his arms and wrapped them around you, snuggling your face into his thick chest and purring happily. your ears twitched cutely and tickled his face. jaemin was shocked at your boldness but molded his body to yours and cuddled you tightly.

“much better,” you sighed happily. you inhaled deeply, his smell flooding your senses. he was so warm and so comfy, you were in heaven. who would've guessed you'd be in this position when you were just swatting and hissing at him earlier in the night?

you fell asleep quickly, letting out soft sighs as you snoozed away. but now jaemin couldn’t fall back asleep. how could he? he had the sweetest little catgirl snuggling so cutely in his arms. he felt so guilty for it but he could feel his erection growing. he cursed at himself. stop being such a horny fuck. she may be cute but she trusts you to not be a freak around her, he thought.

somehow, jaemin ended up falling asleep and he woke up to you staring up at his sleeping face. your wide doe eyes were so cute just watching him adorably, he could wake up like this every day.

“morning, nana,” you whispered softly. during the night, your legs got tangled with his as you rest your hands on his chest. you could feel how thick and built he was underneath the thin material of his shirt, making your rub your thighs together unintentionally.

“good morning, baby. did you sleep well?” his deep morning voice sent shivers down your spine. his half lidded eyes and sleepy smile made him look so sexy.

you gave him a toothy smile, ears twitching and tail slapping against the bed. “yes i did. best sleep in a long time.”

he gave you a deep kiss to the top of your head, inhaling against your scalp. now that you’ve had a bath, you smelled so sweet and soft and milky. “glad to hear that. let me make breakfast before i have to leave for work.”

he slowly got up from underneath the covers, making you whine and reach for his arms to cuddle you once more.

“baby, i need to make you breakfast. can’t have my sweet kitty starve, now can i? look lucy, luna, and luke are here and they look like they want cuddles too.” he gave you a wink as the three kittens jumped on the bed and walked over to you.

jaemin returned with a plate of fresh fruit, eggs, pancakes, and some bacon. your ears perked up and you sniffed the air excitedly.

jaemin chuckled at your excitement. “hungry are we, kitty?”

you nodded excitedly. “i love pancakes. it’s been so long since i’ve had them.”

you scarfed down the breakfast jaemin made for you. bits of egg gathered at the corner of your mouth and jaemin wiped them away for you.

shyly, you told him, “thank you. for the breakfast and for everything, nana. i’ve never been treated this kindly before.”

jaemin scooted closer to you and wrapped his arm around you, giving you a sweet peck on the cheek. “anything for my kitty.”

he checked his watch and jumped up suddenly. “shit! i’m gonna be late for work.” he rushed into his closet to grab clothes to change into.

you sat on the bed as he stripped to his underwear and put on black slacks and a white button-down. you blushed at the sight of his bare body, thinking he was so sexy but you’d die before telling him that.

rushing to put his shoes on, he gave you one final kiss on the cheek before heading out the door. “i’ll be back tonight for dinner, okay kitty? i’ll leave a 50 on the counter so you can buy whatever you want for yourself. see you this evening, baby.”

your heart sunk. you didn’t want him to leave you again. not when you just met. you knew he was going to come back home (he had to) but that didn’t fill the empty hole in your heart. your eyes welled up with a few tears before you wiped them away with your sleeve. jaemin has been so kind to you so it was time for you to stop looking like a bum and fix yourself up cutely for him.

later that evening, jaemin returned home to not just 3 kitties running up to him to give him some love but also you rushing up to give him a big bear hug. your little body crushing him with a tight squeeze as you nuzzled your face in his chest made his heart melt. he felt you purring against his chest as his arms wrapped around your body.

“missed me, huh kitty?” he teased.

you loosened your grip to look into his eyes. “yes i did,” you pouted seriously.

“i missed you too, baby. let me take these work clothes off so i can make dinner for you,” he replied, giving your head a sweet kiss and inhaling your milky scent.

you reluctantly let go as jaemin’s eyes widened at the sight. you were wearing the cutest little outfit he had no idea where you got it from. a short white mini skirt with a tight lacy pink crop top that showed off your plump tits that were practically spilling out of your shirt. you even had baby pink thigh highs with little bows on them.

“like it?” you smiled up at him, giving a little swirl. he caught sight of little white panties underneath your skirt.

jaemin was breathless. “where did you get this little outfit, baby?”

you smiled even wider. “used the money you left me to go shopping for this. i told the lady to help me find something to impress you and she showed me this.”

jaemin eyed your body hungrily, making you squirm and rub your thighs together. “so, nana? do you like it?”

jaemin gave you a tight hug, pressing his body against yours. you could feel his bulge against your pelvis, making your panties so wet. “i love it, baby. you’re so cute.”

your tail swished happily as you purred against him. “yayyy,” you said excitedly.

“baby, let me go make dinner for us, kay? just wait for me and we can cuddle after.” he hummed against your head.

for dinner, you sat in his lap on the couch, eating your steaming bowls of soup and happily cuddling with the three kitties. your little skirt rode up your thighs, causing your panties to peak out. you wiggled your ass around on jaemin’s lap, sighing contentedly as jaemin shifted around so you wouldn’t feel his hardening bulge.

“thank you again, nana. i appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” you purred.

jaemin gave you a wink. “of course, my baby. you can stay with me for as long as you need. i’m not just gonna throw you out.”

you sat up excitedly, tail swishing, as you turned to face him. “really? you really mean it?”

jaemin nodded. “of course. stay with me as long as you need. my home is always open to you.”

you set your bowl down and gave him a tight hug. “yay yay yayy!! thank you, nana!”

you leaned back to look him in his eyes when you slowly looked down to stare at his lips. slowly, you inched forward and planted a sweet kiss on his lips, sucking and licking gently. jaemin was shocked at your boldness but reciprocated your kiss with a renewed fervor. you wrapped your arms around his neck and sat there on his lap as you made out with him intensely.

“fuck, baby,” he groaned against your lips, rubbing circles on your back and lightly bucking his hips against yours. you let out soft whimpers and moans.

you pulled away from him and rested your foregead against his to gaze deep into his eyes. you looked so fucking hot in that moment jaemin was about to lose it. puffy lips, wild hair, lidded eyes staring at him seductively, ears twitching so cutely. you stared at each other, air tingling with tension and need.

jaemin broke the silence. “baby, i don’t have work tomorrow. let’s go shopping and buy you some cute clothes to wear, kay?”

you nodded and sunk your face into his neck, sniffing at his sexy scent. “yes, i would like that a lot, nana.”

for the next few weeks, you would drive jaemin crazy. always prancing around wearing the cutest little outfits that would leave nothing to the imagination. snuggling and cuddling him so cutely whenever he had the tiniest bit of freetime to lounge around. sleeping in his bed and tangled up in his arms while rubbing yourself against his body. kissing him and making out with him at every possible moment but never going further than that. you were so so clingy with him, always whining and pouting when he had to go anywhere without you. and when he got back, you’d cling to him like a little koala. you were just his sweetest, cutest little kitten and he wanted to gobble you up.

“nana, don’t leave me. how long will you be gone this time?” you pouted and pawed at his chest, pressing your body against his.

“baby,” he sighed. “i need to go drop this off at the post office. i’ll be back in 20 minutes, okay? then i’ll give you your cuddles.”

you sniffled. “meanie.”

when he came back as promised, 19 minutes later, you ran and jumped up into his arms. “you came back, nana! missed you so much.” you pressed a sweet kiss against his lips.

“you’re so precious, kitty. my sweet kitty always so good to nana,” he hummed against your lips.

you pulled away. “nana, i have a problem.”

jaemin started to press soft kisses up and down your jawline. “hm?”

“i’ve been feeling weird lately. i don’t know how to explain it.”

he paused, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “what do you mean, baby?”

“everytime you touch me like that, i get all tingly.” you pointed to your privates. “i get all warm and hot down there. and my panties get a little wet. is there something wrong with me?”

jaemin’s jaw dropped in realization. oh. oh.

“oh, baby. uh,” he started, setting you down on the ground gently. “how do i explain this?”

you tilted your head expectantly at him.

“it means you need me.” he said simply.

you looked confused. “need you? of course i need you. you’re my nana and i’m your kitty.”

“no baby. it means you need me to touch you right there.”

you had a look of realization on your face. “oh.”

“baby, i can help you. i can make you feel really good. but only if you tell me, okay? i won’t do anything you don’t want.” he said slowly, gauging your reaction.

you had a sure look on your face. “nana, i trust you. please touch me.”

jaemin growled and smashed his lips against yours, gripping your ass with one hand and running his hand through your hair in another. you purred needily, rubbing your legs together and feeling that warmth between your legs again.

“baby, can i take this to the bedroom?” he sighed breathlessly against your lips.

you nodded excitedly and chased his lips with yours once more. he hoisted you up by your waist and wrapped your legs around his waist. you lightly grinded against his abdomen, causing him to groan and curse against your lips.

he threw you onto the bed, knocking you breathless, and climbed on top of you to kiss you deeply once more. you whined and bucked your hips up against him in need.

“need more, nana,” you whimpered.

“m getting there, baby,” he said as he started to take your skirt, top, bra, and finally panties off your body, never disconnecting his lips from yours.

he reached his hand down to lightly tease your leaking pussy. you felt so warm and hot down there, you needed more. “more! more!” you cried out.

he took one finger and lightly went around your sopping hole. “fuck, this pussy is so wet for me, huh? you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this. the perfect kitty.”

he plunged one finger in, which had you whining and bucking against his hand. as he pumped his finger in and out of your drooling cunt, he slowly added another finger, then another. he alternated between pumping your cunt and taking his fingers out to play with your clit.

you moaned and cried out. “fuck yes! yes, more, please oh god more!”

he planted a deep kiss on your lips. “my kitty is doing so good for me.”

suddenly, he ripped his hand from your cunt, which had you whining and pouting. then he crawled down to face your beautiful pussy. you were so wet and leaky, all for him. he groaned and shoved his face right into your cunt, tonguing at your hole before licking a strip up to your clit. you screamed and cried out, gripping at his hair and shoving his face further into your crying pussy. he started sucking and licking at your clit before shoving three of his fingers back into your hole, pumping up and hitting your G-spot. tears rolled down your face from all the pleasure.

you felt your core get tight. “nana! nana! feel funny down there… my pussy keeps leaking more!” you cried out.

he looked up from your cunt. he looked so fucking sexy, eyes lidded and face dripping with your arousal. “baby, don’t worry. just relax and feel good, kay?”

he dove back into fingering your dripping cunt and sucking and licking at your clit when you felt a wave of pleasure burst from your core. your cunt squirted out wetness as you screamed in pleasure.

“oh god! nanaaa!!” you sobbed, covering your face with your arm from the intense pleasure.

he grinned, licking his lips and fingers clean, and gently pulled your arm from your face. “let look at you, gorgeous. that felt good, right?”

you nodded vigorously. “nana, need more. felt so good.”

you pulled at his belt loop and started unbuckling his jeans. he let you pull his pants down as he took his shirt off, exposing his sexy toned body. you were drooling at the sight.

“nana, you are so sexy,” you whispered, staring directly at his chiseled abs.

he winked at you before finally pulling his boxers down and letting his rock hard cock spring free. your eyes got as wide as saucers. he was massive. so red and veiny, thick from base to tip, and a slight curve upwards. a bead of pearly white liquid gathered at the tip. his balls looked so big and heavy too. your mouth watered.

“wow,” you whispered to yourself.

jaemin smirked, giving himself a few pumps. “like it, baby?”

you nodded slowly. “i’ve never done this before. can i put it in my mouth?”

jaemin groaned. “fuck baby, you’re gonna be the death of me. so cute and so fucking hot.”

you leaned down and started licking the shaft, started at the base. you sucked his balls softly, letting the weight of them rest on your tongue as you moaned softly.

“just like that baby, fuck. sure you’ve never done this before?” he groaned and snaked his hands into gripping your hair.

you shook your head before licking his cock from base to tip. you gave his cock a small kiss and gulped. how were you going to fit this in your mouth. he was huge. slowly, you sucked on the tip before taking more and more into your mouth. you bobbed your head up and down on his cock as jaemin let out the sexiest groans. you let your tongue lick at the veins on the underside of his cock as you went faster and faster.

“oh, baby. fuck, you suck dick like a pro,” he moaned out. “you’re so gorgeous and perfect, you know that? i love you, my sweet kitty.”

all of sudden, you bottomed out on his cock, sticking it all in your mouth at once. you gave a few licks to his balls.

“oh fuck, fuck, fuck, m gonna cum,” jaemin cursed.

he ripped your head off his cock with a lewd pop. leaving you whining and chasing his cock for more. he threw you back against the bed and pinned you down, cock bouncing angrily against his stomach. you rubbed your legs together as your pussy leaked and drooled in need.

“as good as you suck dick, baby, i need to finish inside you,” he growled, giving you a deep kiss.

he reached into his nightstand to pull out a condom.

“what’s that?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows and tilting your head.

he ripped the packet open and started rolling it on his cock. “it’s called a condom, baby. you put it on before having sex to prevent pregnancy.”

you shook your head slowly. “do you have to wear it? don’t want you to. wanna feel your cock in my pussy raw.”

jaemin paused. “you sure, baby?”

you nodded. “very sure.”

he groaned and cursed to himself. something about “fuck, she’s so sexy and she doesn’t even know it.” he ripped the condom off and threw it off the bed somewhere. then he climbed back on top of you and propped your legs up against his shoulders and lined his cock with your entrance. he gave himself a few punps and teased your soaking hole with the tip of his leaking cock. “ready, baby?”

you nodded vigorously and whined, bucking your hips up to meet his cock. he bottomed out inside you with one thrust, causing you to scream out.

“oh, nana! fuck!” you cried deliciously. your ears twitched so cutely it had jaemin wanting to pound you hard and fast immediately.

he paused his hips to let you against to his size. “are you okay, baby?”

you kissed him. “if you don’t move i might lose my mind.”

with that, he pounded your little pussy with his big cock hard and deep. you cried and screamed at the intense pleasure, claws scratching at his back. the lewd sounds of his balls slapping against your ass had you leaking all around. you squirmed and wriggled underneath him, causing him to use his strength to pin your hips to the mattress.

“fuck baby, you feel so good. real thing is much better than what i’ve imagined,” he growled against your neck.

“oh jaemin,” you called out.

his hips went faster and harder. “say it again. say my name, baby.”

“j-jaemin,” you cried. “jaemin jaemin jaemin! yes oh fuck yes!” in the deep mating press he had you in, you felt the tip of his cock kiss your cervix sweetly.

“oh baby, i love you so much. love my sweet kitty so much. so precious and so sweet to me.” he groaned into your neck.

you were losing your mind in pleasure. “oh jaemin, gonna cum again. more please more!!”

his hips rutted into you impossibly fast, god you were losing your mind. you felt your core tighten and burst with pleasure once again, waves of orgasm washing over your body. your pussy squirted all over his abdomen and spasmed around his cock. his hips continued to fuck you through your orgasm, leaving you feeling overstimulated with pleasure. fat tears rolled down your face as you sobbed and clawed at jaemin’s back.

“m gonna cum too baby,” he gave you a sweet kiss on your lips. “doing so good for me. so good for nana.”

with a final deep thrust, he bottomed out inside your pussy and let out hot white spurts of cum, so much that some dripped and leaked out even as he was still balls deep inside. he collapsed on top of you with a groan, inhaling your hair deeply. you laid there panting and covered in sweat.

“love you, kitty,” he whispered softly into your ear.

“love you too, nana.”

[shanastoryteller]

Happy Holidays Shana!! I really love your prompts about Greek mythology. Could you write a continuation of Hades or God's and Monsters?

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

Zagreus is mid word when he stills, eyes going distant. "Huh. I'll be right back."

"You're joking," Megaera says flatly. "You can't just drop this on me and-"

"Technically, Than did that." He would really prefer if Zagreus didn't pull him into this. "I'll be quick. She's calling me, it can't be anything good."

"Who's she?" Megaera demands but Zagreus is already gone. She scowls and turns to the others. "Who's she?"

"Eliana, maybe," Sisyphus offers, completely unruffled at Megaera's ire. "At least take a look out the balcony. This is the highest point in the court and the view is really spectacular."

It is. Thanatos hadn't known the underworld could be beautiful before he'd seen what Zagreus had built.

Her eyes narrow. "How long has this been going on?"

"Oh, I can't say for sure," Sisyphus shrugs, his lips almost curling into a smile. "I wasn't really there for the beginning."

"I was."

They both turn to Patroclus. Eurydice is the only one of them that's suitably wary of either him or Megaera.

"He grew poms in my clearing first," he continues. "It's where we grew things until it became too full and then he created this. Zagreus has woven protections around it, to keep others from stumbling upon it accidentally, but I'm sure you could find it if you looked."

Megaera crosses her arms. "I'm not leaving."

Patroclus shrugs. Eurydice looks longingly towards the door and Sisyphus seems to actually be enjoying himself.

Thanatos stiffens, pain with no physical cause blooming from his chest. "He's died."

"Really?" Eurydice asks, taking a step closer. "He doesn't really do that anymore."

"Except for show," Sisyphus adds, frowning. "But you're both here."

Before Thanatos can decide how he feels about that, Zagreus is slipping back through the mirror, flicking off blood from his arms. "Sorry about that, Artemis wanted a favor."

Thanatos cannot have heard what he thinks he did.

"Artemis?" Megaera repeats dangerously.

"Oh, she told Aphrodite by the way," he adds casually, then pauses. "Actually, she was pretty surprised to see me, so I guess Artemis just called me and let her figure it out herself. Cold."

"Well, this is all unraveling," Patroclus says, but he doesn't seem that worried about it. Not nearly worried about it as Thanatos thinks he should be.

Zagreus shrugs. "They can keep a secret. Also it's been almost fifty years already, this can't go on forever. I suppose I could just challenge Demeter outright?"

"Do not do that," Eurydice says.

Thanatos wants to sit down.

"Have you LOST YOUR MIND?" Megaera screeches, grabbing Zagreus's shoulders. Her nails dig into him, but he doesn't bleed. "You can't do this! You can't - have you - this is crazy!"

Zagreus shrugs, pressing her nails deeper into him. "What's she going to do? Kill me?"

"There will be war," Thanatos says quietly while Megaera seems lost for words.

"Long overdue, if you as me," he says casually. "She's killing a lot of people, Than. She's undermining the other gods and making things worse for everyone all because she lost her daughter. She's turning against her own domain because her grief is more important than her duty. I can't make my mother talk to Demeter. But I have the power to stop her, to put an end to this winter. So I have to stop her."

"This isn't your responsibility, Zag," Thanatos says quietly.

"No," he agrees, expression souring. "It's my mother's. But if the goddess of spring won't do her duty and put an end to winter, then I will."

"Why?" Megaera asks, something small and scared in her that Thanatos hasn't seen since the first time she heard of Zagreus attempting to escape. "Why does it have to be you?

"I am a son of life's beginning and of life's ending." Zagreus says gently. "I know there is balance. I exist because of that balance. When I was born, I had too much of my father, and Nyx filled me with my mother's blood, because I can only exist when there is both." Thanatos hadn't known that, hadn't known how exactly his mother managed to save a stillborn Zagreus. "Who else, Meg?"

She doesn't have an answer.

There isn't one.

[velvetm00light]

Damsel

gif: pinterest banner: @benkeibear, @mariariley, @haerinism

Chapter One of Save Me

Word count: 4.6k

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: You've managed to keep your feelings for your coworker, the one and only Dr. Spencer Reid, completely in the back of your mind. But, when an unsub attacks close to home, you quickly realize you're on your way to becoming a victim. As you fight the panic coursing inside you, you are also left fighting the emotions that arise when Spencer tries to comfort and protect you.

Warnings: Mentions sexual assault, murder, serial killer, domxsub, degradation, torture, stalking. In future parts, will mention vivid torture, PinV, oral, domxsub situations, grief, bondage, physical harm, kidnapping, etc.

A/N: My first attempt at Tumblr and writing on here! This one is going to be a bit of a dark one so read at your own risk. I'm mostly writing for fun but this one will have at least a few parts to it. :)

Your knees begin to ache as you continue to kneel on the hardwood floor in your bedroom. Strong, nimble hands grip your head, lacing fingers into your hair and yank it backwards. A silk blindfold covers your eyes, heightening the rest of your senes. You feel his hot breath mere inches away from your mouth as he speaks to you in a growl.

"Look at you, on your knees, begging for me like a slut." You let out a small whimper at this, rubbing your thighs together in an attempt to get any kind of friction between your legs. All you need is to release this pent up heat at your core, but he is hell bent on taking his sweet time with you.

"Beg." You flinch at the demand in his voice but you do as you're commanded. "Please, Sir...I need it so bad," you cry out. Your wrists struggle in the cold handcuffs that keep your hands bound together behind your back. You just want to touch him so badly, want him to touch you so badly.

He hums and loosens his grip on your hair. You're roughly lifted up from your arm and thrown on the bed. "On your back."

You quickly do as your told, unable to waste another moment wanting instead of getting. "Are you ready to take me like the good girl you are?" You groan your approval, bucking your hips greedily. towards him.

His hands gently reach behind your head to let the blindfold loose. You blink rapidly, your eyes straining to adjust to the bedroom light. You can feel his cock rubbing against your folds slowly.

Once your eyes adjust, you spot unruly, brown curls and a smirking face hovering over you. "Spencer, please.." you beg right before he-

Your phone is ringing ceaselessly on your nightstand as it breaks you out of your sleep. You sit up rapidly, dazed and confused after the intensity of your dream...your dream about your coworker. You rub your eyes with the palms of your hands and let out a sigh. You'll dive into the analysis of your dream eventually, just not right now or maybe you'll just try to forget about it and never think of it again.

You grab your phone and answer it without bothering to check who was calling in the first place. Ever since you began working for the BAU 2 years ago, the only friends you had, had the same demanding job as you. No matter what day or time your phone rang, 9 times out of 10, it was going to be work.

"Hello?" you answer sleepily.

"You sound worse than I did when Hotch called me," Penelope giggles on the other end. "I didn't bother trying to text you first because I knew I wouldn't get a response for approximately 3 business days and then I'd have to probably send a whole wellness check to your house to make sure-"

"I'm assuming we have a case?" You can't help but chuckle at Penelope's ramble.

"Yes, but prepare yourself for this one." Penelope's tone wakes you up more than your coffee normally does. Despite being at the BAU longer than you have, after just about every case you've brought Penelope a bottle of wine, some kind of home-baked sweet and sat on her couch the rest of the day or night in slippers and face masks.

At first, just about everything made you jumpy and queasy but now, there's not much you haven't seen. You've done a decent job at separating your personal and professional emotions - for the most part.

"Thanks for the heads-up, Pen. I'm sure I'll be okay." I reassure her, questioning what kind of case we could possibly have that would rattle me more than abducted children, kidnapped and beaten women, and just about every other sadistic thing you can think of.

You say your goodbyes to Penelope and prepare to head to the office.

You take your seat around the round table, JJ to your left and Morgan to your right, the 3 of you the only ones there so far. You lean towards JJ and lower your voice into a whisper.

"Have you heard anything about this case yet?" You ask.

"I'm pretty sure it's just some murders here in Quantico." She replies, her brows knitting together. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm not sure, I just...Pen called me this morning and told me to prepare. Did she say the same to you?"

"No, she didn't." You take your bottom lip between your teeth and sit back in your seat. Your mind began chasing itself in circles, making up different scenarios on why you would have to be the one to prepare.

Spencer is the next to come, taking a seat across from you. He gives you a friendly smile and he immediately jumps into conversation, asking you guys what you did this weekend and if you were interrupted when you got called. The memory of the dream you were interrupted from plays back in your mind and you feel the heat rising up your neck.

You play it safe and try to kill your heat with humor, per usual. "I was actually in the middle of a very great date with sleep," you groaned.

Morgan laughs next to you in that charming way of his that drives just about every human, no matter what's between their legs, crazy. "Me and Savannah finally got time together because she had a day off from the hospital. We had some dinner, a little wine, we got into bed and boom, phone rang."

We all laugh at Morgan's bad luck and JJ tells a similar story about her and Will, "We had just gotten the kids down too."

Suddenly, Hotch and Rossi enter the room, Garcia trailing behind with her computer in hand. "Sorry to keep you waiting everyone, you can begin, Garcia."

She gives a curt nod and wastes no time jumping into her spiel, providing pictures as always.

"Unfortunately, in our little home of Quantico, 4 bodies of young women have been found bound, brutally tortured, with evidence of..sexual assault." As she continues to add more pictures to the screen, you begin to realize something. You weren't the only one to realize it though when Emily blurts, "Well he's got a type, that's for sure."

"Yup, all women have the same hair color, eye color, even height." Garcia continues.

"You know, these women look kind of familiar..." Rossi begins, and as he begins to put the pieces together as you do, wide eyes begin to fall onto you.

"How tall are you, (y/n)?" Spencer asks matter-of-factly, as if he refuses to believe it's not just some extremely odd coincidence.

"5 foot 4." You reply, wringing your hands in your lap. The gazes of all your team members burn holes into you and you fight against the urge to sink into your chair.

"And each of these women were 5 foot 4?" Morgan asks, setting his gaze on the case file instead of you. "Yes, they were." Garcia confirms.

A nervous chuckle escapes your throat, "I mean, that's a coincidence, right?" No one immediately answers you which does nothing to help you feel any better.

"Until we know for sure, we need to be careful." Hotchner stated bluntly. "We know that with these kinds of unsubs their primary target is normally their worst, and their last."

You know he is right, but it seems almost ridiculous. You barely leave the house except to go to work, go to Penelope's, or get groceries. Why in the world would you be a serial killer's target?

"JJ, Morgan, I want you to talk to the families of these woman and see what you can find out. Their lifestyles, last contacts, places they were seen a few days leading up to their disappearances." JJ and Morgan nod, rising to action and disappearing out of the room.

"Prentiss and Rossi, check out the dump sites." Once Emily and Rossi leave the room to complete their duties, the room feels even more suffocating even though there's less people in it.

There is absolutely no way you can focus on finding a serial killer that has a preference for women just like you while working with Spencer, but it leaves Spencer and Hotch left as possible partners for this case.

"(Y/n), until we get more information, I want to be safe rather than sorry. This team has suffered enough so for now you will work with Spencer on the geographical profile."

With that, he stands and leaves me and Spencer in the room, alone.

It's almost too hard to bear so you immediately begin. "I'm going to print out a map so we can see his hunting and dumping zones," you explain quickly, leaving the room like a fire was just lit up your ass.

You enter an internal conflict of not wanting to waste time and therefore, endangering another women's life, but you also aren't sure if you're going to be able to handle being alone in close proximity with the coworker you had a literal wet dream about just a few hours ago.

You decide that a woman's life is more important than your own feelings and quickly make work printing and bringing back a map.

Once it's taped to the board, you and Spencer immediately get to work putting pointer tabs on the map, red for dumpsites, blue for abduction sites.

You both step back to allow yourselves the bigger picture. You can feel the heat radiate off of Spencer and you dare a quick glance towards him. His button-down sleeves are rolled up the elbows, his arms crossed against his chest, his finger running across his jaw. You can almost see the beautifully brilliant cogs in his head at work as you stare.

You're broken out of your trance when he suddenly moves closer to the map and draws a circle. "Most of the dump sites are within a mile radius of each other just outside of FBI territory, but the abduction sites are more scattered." His fingers lightly trace the map, pointing to each abduction site.

"Grocery store parking lot, park, apartment building.."

Your eyes widen as realization begins to sink in, this one being even more damning than just looking like the victims.

"Spence.." you breathe out. You move closer to get a better look at the map, ensuring you're not just creating something out of nothing.

"I've been to all these places before.." You say this so low, for a moment think he didn't even hear you.

"Actually, all of those sites are some of the most common places people go on a day-to-day basis. For example, 8.642 million people live in the state of Virginia and if you take the area of Quantico and surrounding areas -"

"Spencer, what days did these women get abducted?" You ask, your lip begins to quiver slightly as you push the panic down that is threatening to rise up inside you. You're hoping that this is all just some sick coincidence and you're not right about the theory you're about to put to the test.

"The first victim, Abby Reynolds, got abducted from the Walmart parking lot off 610 on the second. Laney Parker from Smith Lake Park on the fifth. Delaney Litz from Aquia Fifteen Apartments -" Your entire body freezes in absolute terror and Spence pauses. "What is it?"

"Spencer, I went to all of the places on those days and that apartment building...I live there."

His eyes widen as he stars at you in shock. "You're sure you went to those places at the same time?"

"Yes..I- I went to Walmart right after we got done our case on the second to get wine for me and Penelope, then on the fifth I took my nephew to Smith Lake Park because we had the day off and I felt guilty for being a terrible sister and never talking to my sister..." Tears threaten to spill across your cheeks but you internally chastise yourself to get a grip. This could all still just simply be a coincidence. A sick fucking coincidence.

Spencer immediately grabs his phone out of his pocket and calls Hotch. Spencer puts Hotch on speaker phone as the rest of the team is conferenced in.

"JJ, what did you guys learn from the families?"

"All 4 women were extremely work orientated, barely even found the time to buy themselves groceries and lived low-risk lifestyles."

You practically throw yourself into a chair at the round table, unable to control the trembling of your hands and the threat of your knees buckling beneath you. Spencer sets his phone down on the table and takes the chair in front of you. As the team speaks to one another, Spencer gently reaches for your hands and squeezes them, running his thumbs over the back of your hands in an attempt to comfort you.

He lets go of one hand and reaches over the table to mute the phone. "Do you want me to tell them, or do you want to do it?"

You honestly aren't even sure your brain is working correctly at this point. All you know is that you are in the safest place you can be, and you know your team wouldn't let anything happen to you. Spencer wouldn't let anything happen to you.

"You, please." You whisper. He nods and unmutes the phone.

"Guys, we found out something interesting while working on the geographical profile." He begins.

"Go on," Hotch urges.

"Well, first, all the dumping sites are within a 1 mile radius of each other right outside the FBI territory. I think he wants the bodies displayed and found, particularly by us." He slides his chair close to yours and stills your shaky hands with his. "Also, each woman was abducted from places (y/n) went to on those same days."

The line goes silent and it's almost enough to push you over the edge. Not only do you have to manage your own panic and fear, you have a whole team you brought this upon who now has to worry for a friends life and you can't help but feel guilty for it. "Prentiss, head back to the office. (Y/n), are you up for a cognitive?"

You gaze up at Spencer who gives you a comforting nod. "Y-yes. I can do that."

"I'll be there in 5," Prentiss calls out and the phone conference ends.

"Will you please stay with me? During the interview?" You manage to choke out. You try to fight the onslaught of emotions this situation suddenly thrust upon you.

"Of course. You're safe with me, with us. You know none of us would ever let anything happen to you. You're not alone." Spencer pulls you into a tight hug and you allow yourself to relax into him. It does nothing to ease the coursing emotions and terror you have within yourself. Seeming to sense that, he pulls away but keeps his hands on your shoulders. "You're safe," he coos, offering a small, comforting smile.

You attempt to return a smile of your own, but you can't help the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach that there is a bottom to this whole iceberg that you guys haven't seen yet.

You take a seat on an uncomfortable metal chair in one of the interviewing rooms. "Do we really have to do this in here?" You sigh. Spencer stayed true to his word and pulled up a chair next to you. He placed a hand over yours, despite Emily being just across the table.

You almost allowed yourself to relax at the contact, but it only made your life a bit more difficult. Not only were you possibly being stalked and hunted by a brutal serial killer, but you also had a school girl crush on the one coworker who would likely never feel the same, and you would probably not confess to, even with your life in danger.

Emily laces her fingers together and winces. "I'm sorry, but yeah. You're considered a possible target now. You're involved on the opposite end of this case." Her honesty sent a shiver down your spine. You weren't sure you could handle someone sugar coating the danger you were in or the seriousness of this case, but the blunt honesty didn't make it any better easier.

"I'm just going to ask you simple questions. You're safe here, always remember that, (y/n)." I nod and close my eyes. I take Spencer's hand and squeeze it lightly. He squeezes back, his confirmation that he's there.

"You just got off the jet from a long case in Florida. What does it feel like outside?"

"Hot. Like I wanted to rip my clothes off." You can feel Spencer next to you tense at your comment and you squeezed his hand in flirt-reply but you were sure he would most likely not understand it.

"What did you do next?"

"I...I talked to Penelope. I called her when we landed while I walked to my car and I offered to come over to watch Illegally Blonde and bring wine."

"Focus on the carpark. Was there anyone just standing around? Any abnormal cars you didn't recognize?"

You tried to imagine the carpark at the tarmac. There were multiple floors, all used by different departments of the FBI. You were only really sure of the kinds of cars your close coworkers drove but there were probably hundreds of cars around as you walked through. "There's a lot of cars I don't know. I parked further away because I was running late and all the spots were full."

"Keep walking towards your car. Is there anyone just standing around?"

As I walk to towards my car, I swivel my head around, going over each small detail of my surroundings.

"There's a man in a suit with a briefcase but he's on the phone, talking to someone. I don't think he even knew I was there."

"Once you get in your car, is there anything abnormal? Does your car start the same way it always does? What do you smell?"

You rack your brain for the memory. You allow yourself to picture sitting in the car. "I think it smelt normal. Like my air freshener which I always change when it runs out."

Your air freshener hung from your rearview mirror, your steering wheel was in the same position you left it, and when you turned the car on, your car purred like normal. "Wait," you whisper.

"What is it?"

You feel Spencer's hand squeeze yours. "Normally, my phone automatically connects when I start it. I always play my music through my bluetooth and no one else's phone is paired so there should've been no reason for it to not connect."

"What did you do when you noticed your phone didn't connect?"

"I umm..I went into my settings to try to connect but then I saw my settings were basically clear edout. Like it was reset to factory settings."

"What did you do then?"

You take your bottom lip into your mouth and begin to chew as you allow the memory to play on. Spencer's hand brings you to Earth slightly and you let out a deep breathe and continue.

"I'm pretty sure I just paired it again...I thought it was weird, definitely, but I don't think I really thought much of it. No one was in my car or under, I always check. There wasn't any kind of van or large vehicle parked next to me. There wasn't anything else that made me feel in danger so I guess I just played it off like my car malfunctioned or something."

"Okay, are you alright to keep going?"

As the memory continues to play in your mind you begin to feeling the rising panic again. You're normally extremely vigilant, sometimes too much. Every sound and detail is always analyzed, you always make sure there's no danger around. You can't help but feel idiotic for missing it. Of course, you would never completely factory reset your car and you haven't taken it to get serviced in months.

As your breathing quickens, you fling your eyes open and blink back the tears forming. "I-I'm not sure. I feel...stupid. I should have noticed."

"You noticed everything else, though. You're not stupid. You checked for every other danger you could possibly think of, don't berate yourself for not thinking you were in danger because of something as simple as your phone not connecting. Almost no one would read into it any further than a vehicle malfunction." Spencer's hands were on your shoulders as he speaks to you, forcing you to stare at him.

"I'm a profiler, it's my job to read into things no one else does."

"You're human, (y/n). An intelligent human at that. Don't call yourself stupid." Spencer's tone almost makes you flinch, it sounds almost just like the dream you had...you shake your head to get the thought out and avoid his flamed gaze.

"I'm proud of you for getting this far," Spencer spoke softer this time, dropping his hands from your shoulders and taking your hand again. "You're brave."

"I'm brave," I repeat, taking a deep breath. "Let's continue."

After a grueling, multiple hour long cognitive interview, you're mentally drained. Remembering every detail about every day for the past few weeks has taken a toll on you. As you exit the interview room, Prentiss pats your shoulder and gives you a comforting smile. She then heads off to discuss your interview with the team probably, but Spencer doesn't budge from your side.

You pause in the hallway and Spencer looks down at you, concern lacing his features. "You did great in there," he started. "You really helped us, a lot."

"I really hope so. I'm too scared to go home, I don't even want to leave the BAU just in case he hacked my car..." Tears well up in your eyes once again but this time, you decide to let them slip. You're too exhausted and confused and scared to care about what Spencer might think of you crying in front of him.

He gently brings a hand up to your cheek and wipes a fallen tear from it. His hand lingers on your face and he suddenly brings it down to his side as if realizing that he was prolonging his contact.

"Thank you for staying in there with me." You look at him with teary eyes and try to plaster on a smile.

He only frowns back at you. "Of course, I didn't want you to go through it alone. You know you don't need to put on a fake smile for me. I can see through it anyway."

You blink at his words and take a relieving breath. It was nice to not be expected to be okay right now. "Now that I'm considered a target, am I not allowed to know what you guys know?" It was almost too much to bear, the thought of being kept in the dark when you were the one in danger.

"As much as Hotch might say you should stay out of it, I don't think it's fair. Knowing the information we do could possibly save your life."

The tight knot in your stomach uncoils slightly. It helps to know that even if things are kept from you, there is someone who would fight for you and probably tell you anyway.

"There you guys are, Hotch needs us in the conference room." JJ states, popping her head around the corner and disappearing just as quickly as she came.

Spencer places a gentle hand on the small of my back and leads me to the round table. You're grateful for this because you don't think you'd be able to keep yourself up and moving on your own.

As soon as you sit down, Hotch doesn't give you a moment to catch your breath before he begins. "Based on everything so far, our profile suggests that you're his endgame, (y/n)."

Your eyes widen but you're unable to even open your mouth to ask why.

Garcia speaks next and you whip your gaze to her as she fidgets with the fluffy pen in her hand. "I did some internet sleuthing, as I do, and I found something...extremely creepy." She pushes a button on the remote next to her and a website appears on the screen. The tension in the room becomes taut like a wire as an entire blog about you comes up on the screen. "It's anonymous, of course. But not for long, I will not let him get away with this." Garcia states angrily, as the different blog entries are scrolled through.

"She will belong to me even if it's the last thing I do."

"Such a selfish whore, parading around for me, basically asking for my attention and then pretending like I don't exist."

"I think she gets it, guys." Spencer snarls.

"(Y/n), do you have any idea who this guy is?" Morgan asks.

"I-I don't know. I rarely even go anywhere! I don't understand why I'm the target. What is so special about me?" You cry out, exasperated.

"There must have been an interaction, even a super brief, normal one you had with him." JJ points out.

"I don't remember anyone out of the blue coming up to me..."

"He most likely wouldn't have. You might have had to talk to him for any kind of reason, a cashier, a waiter, even someone who held the door open for you." Prentiss sighs.

"I don't think he would have worked at any of the places the women were abducted from. He's obviously got a large house, land, or somewhere to hold these women. He tends to hold them for around 2 days before dumping them and if he's stalking (y/n) in his free time, he's probably got a flexible job or no job at all." Morgan explains.

"Garcia, get a list of everyone that lives with their parents or took over their parents residence after they passed, especially those with farms, or land." Hotch orders.

"Also check for men who's parents might have owned buildings he can keep women in that are now abandoned like factories, mills, schools." Rossi chimes in.

Garcia nods and races out of the room and to her office.

"We've got to find a way to get this guy to come out of his hiding spot.." JJ hums.

"(Y/n)?" Hotch asks, his gaze noticeably softer. You're almost too afraid to answer, internally begging to just stay here, away from danger. "Yes?" You answer quietly.

"I wouldn't ask this if I thought we had other leads or ways to narrow down suspects...but we might need you to draw him out."

"Absolutely not!" Spencer jumps from his seat. The entire table falls silent at his outburst.

"It might be the only way of making sure other women don't get hurt, Spencer." Hotch reasoned.

"I don't care! You're putting her in danger!" Spencer roared, shoving his chair from behind him and pacing around the room. "You can't Hotch."

"It's okay," you croak out. If it means saving another woman's life, you're willing to make the sacrifice. You don't allow yourself to think about Spencer's outburst and why he could've possibly been so upset. You're just friends. He just cares about you because you're his friend, you tell yourself.

Spencer sits back down in his seat, his gaze unable to meet mine. "I can handle it," you lift your chin and straighten your back, faking a confidence you sure as hell don't have.

"Everyone meet back here in an hour and we'll discuss the details." With this, Hotch rises out of his seat and leaves the room. The others do the same, leaving you and Spencer by yourselves, still seated at the round table.

"I'm brave, remember?" You say, giving him a sad smile. He gives you an even sadder smile back. "Yes, you are." You can see him battling an internal battle with himself, his body almost shaking. "You'll be there to protect me, right?"

"Of course."

[haveihitanerve]

Bruce & Jason centric in that they find a hobby they can do together and actually bond over.

Bruce helped Dick with his acrobatics when he was younger, acting as a spotter. Jason goes in drives with Dick.

Bruce plays minecraft with Tim and is concerningly good at it (Bruce is good with building, Tim is good at speed running). Jason and Tim are always getting into classic olderbrother-youngerbrother dynamic and feud about the smallest things, but they somehow end with a truce of "..Wanna get ice cream?" and it works 9 times outta 10.

Bruce and Damian spend time drawing together in the designated art room. Bruce, of course, does well with architectural designs, but he occasionally dabbles in portraits, and Damian does the opposite. Jason and Damian bond over their memories and time in the LOA.

But what do Bruce and Jason bond with? Sports? Games? TV Shows? Books? Ever since Jason came back as Red Hood, their relationship has been awkward at best and very strained at almost worst.

I feel like they have lots of things to bond over, idk really- for sure books, some other headcanons i have are boxing, it seems like something they both like to do, otherwise history because Bruce loves to know and jason loves literature :) but heres my attempt at writing this for you

Jason hadn't planned on being in the Manor. He was only here, quite honestly, because Tim really wanted his laptop but he really didn't want to come home because he was injured and he might run into Alfred, or worse, Bruce, and Jason could understand that so he had reluctantly agreed and left the kid at his safehouse, and was now at the Manor.

He prayed he didn't run into anyone. Dick and Babs were out on a date, he knew, which meant Batgirl would once again make an appearance tonight, and they wouldn't be home until around three, Alfred was in the kitchen and wasn't planned to leave it for at least another half hour, until he finished his late night cup of tea and chapter of his new book, and the rest of the kids were holed up at Jason's apartment. Unfortunately.

Jason sighed, pushing open Tim's bedroom door to snag his laptop. Duke had asked him to swing by his room too and grab some things if he was "going over there anyway" and Damian didn't even need to ask, Jason stopped by and grabbed Alfred the cat... except the cat wasn't in his room.

Jason fought a groan. If the cat wasn't in the demon brats room then he was anywhere else in the house, and the most likely case was that he was with one of the people in the house, because despite being a cat, the creature was like a goddamned dog, constantly seeking affection and running up to people for pets.

Jason cursed Bruce's nature for adopting children and Talia for ever forcing him to create his own, throwing all the stuff he'd collected into his duffel bag and heading deeper into the Manor. On the hunt. For a cat. What even was his life anymore.

Sure enough, light was streaming from the billiard room, because of course they had a billiard room, and Jason could hear the distinct sound of a cat meowing. He winced, pushing the door open slowly, and found Bruce hunched over the billiard table, Alfred the cat draped across his shoulders, fiddling with some things. Jason cleared his throat.

Bruce glanced up, and after a small frown of confusion at seeing who it was, lit up. "Jason! What are you doing here?" Bruce seemed to regret the words the second they came out of his mouth, judging them to be too harsh, but Jason came further into the room, lifting the duffel bag.

"Tim and the others asked me to grab some stuff." Bruce nodded thoughtfully, glancing at the clock. "Will they be home soon?" He asked carefully. Jason shrugged. "prolly not. They can crash, its fine." Bruce nodded. "Okay. Good." There was a beat of awkward silence.

"Oh uh, Damian wanted the cat." Jason coughed, gesturing to Alfred. "Oh!" Bruce nodded, slipping the cat off his shoulders and handing him to Jason. "Right... well." Jason coughed again. "What are... you doing?" Bruce blinked at him a few times, like he'd never expected Jason to show an interest in his work, which was crazy giving the way Jason had died

But quickly recovered, gesturing him closer. "Stamps. I collect them." "You collect stamps?" Jason asked dubiously. Bruce nodded emphatically. "Oh yes. They're so fascinating. They tell a story. Like this one, for instance, is from World War Two. Or this one, the Persian War. Despite everything, people still find time to write letters, to communicate with each other."

"Huh." Jason nodded, leaning over the table to look at the rest of the stamps. Bruce had quite the collection. "I can show you more, if you'd like." He offered uncertainly. Jason took a step back. "Right. Yeah. No, I- I'd like that." Bruce blinked. "You would?" The words were careful. Weighing. Jason nodded, swallowing.

"Y-yeah. I- uh, I gotta get back to the others," He lifted the duffel bag. "But uh, maybe some other time. This seems... really cool." Bruce smiled. "Truly? Well... good. Thats good. I- I'll uh. I'll leave them out then. For next time." Jason nodded in agreement. "Yeah. Next time."

The letter arrived a week later, an ancient stamp on the front, and a detailed description inside, a bit too detailed, but Jason appreciated it. He began searching, scouring everywhere he could with every piece of free time he had, and sent his own back, adding in pieces of information and evidence about Killer Croc that he'd been meaning to share later anyway.

It became their thing, a little bit of back and forth, and soon the letters grew longer, only a paragraph dedicated to actually explaining the origins or story, and more about their lives, their old life and their new. It became a game, leaving stamps out for the other to find, trying to guess what year the stamp was from without opening the letter, and randomly sticking stamps onto evidence to see if the other person would be able to guess it. A thing. Bruce smiled every time he thought about it. And if Jason showed up more at family functions, and allowed Bruce to wrap an arm around his shoulders to the surprise of everyone else... well, that was their little secret.

[queen-of-elves]

Spilled wine

Summary: These events were all the same, the same names, the same faces, at least that's what Aemond had always thought.

A/N: this is more of a crack fic but not really? Basically everyone is friends and happy haha but not really. Aemond still has the scar but it happened during some summer vacation and it was a complete accident + Aemond getting his walls knocked down by reader and being absolutely whipped for her

Btw this is probably the most ambitious fanfic I ever attempted to write when it comes to the word count, so I am sort of proud of myself

Fanarts for this fanfic: The snap screenshot, some sketches of outfits, kiss

Masterlist

Words: 8,7K

Warnings: english is not my first language, drinking, mention of dr*gs, alcohol consumption, minimum use of Y/N, male oc present at the table, swearing, +18 themes but not smut

Dividers by: @cafekitsune

Red and white

Aemond did not appreciate his mother pushing him into attending these kinds of events. Opulent and full of rich fellow friends of his sickly father. This was nothing more than a powertrip for their egos. Socialize, make connections and exploit them in the foreseeable future.

And this event was a definition of what he hated. Noone was there to actually enjoy themself, it was all an illusion. This was a competition: who can get more information while sipping on their drinks, who could manipulate another investor after doing lines in the dim bathrooms, who could win another connection to centuries old wealth. Aemond felt sick to his stomach over these thoughts even though he was born into this world. However, the worst part of this whole farce was that he needed none of that, except his grandfather did. His scheming got even more out of control since Aegon moved into Aemond's apartment, destroying his plans of him being the heir to their father’s company by being a reckless drunk out in the open.

And now he was standing next to him in a freshly pressed suit, dark green fabric turning black in the evening darkness. He once found suits and formal clothing as a second skin, armor he could hide underneath but they were now constricting him. Aemond’s younger self was always obsessed with this image of the perfect son. Well educated, polite, manners of the perfect gentlemen, perfect son, perfect in everything. PERFECT. The older he grew the more he started to resent the word, the more he started to fear it in some way. No matter how much he tried, it was never enough. While his brother was failing in everything he touched, Aemond was succeeding and it was all for nothing. 

His mother was giddy to introduce him to people, ready to make a match of him and some rich lady, probably at the instigation of his grandfather. Another face, another introduction. Aemond did not remember the new rich people introduced to him by his mother. And why should he, he did not expect to see them again. 

He already knew the proper aces in the field since he was 9 years old, he remembered well Lannisters who did business with his father through their banks or the Royce family, giants in the food industry and of course Hightowers, his grandfather’s and his mother’s name, his uncle Gwayne being one of the best lawyers. Aemond was meant to soon join him, after he finishes his studies.

When I finish college.

There were many more of these names, sewed into his brain since a young age but these names did not change, they were all playing the same game with the same moves with the same chess pieces since he was born. Generational wealth hiding from the new kind, gatekeeping their society from the rest, while they enjoyed parties with the best of the best.

“Oh, Aemond, do you remember Margaret Baeltigar?” Soft touch of his mother’s hand, almost as if burning him, woke him up from his thoughts. He had no recollection of such a lady, maybe she was one of Alicent’s so-called friends or maybe some wife of an investor in the family’s company.

The lady was slightly older than his mother, clad in a light blue gown, her boney hand clutching her glass of champagne. She was the kind of skinny only obtainable by starvation, unhealthy diet. The smile she gave him was forced, too much white pearly teeth showing for his liking and for it to be sincere. Her posture was rigid as if she was posing and maybe she was, to him, to his mother, to everyone.

“Of course.” The polite small smile fell unappreciated since her gaze had already turned away, wide eyes searching for something specific, someone specific in the crowd of empty faces.

“Here she is…” Those words seemed forced, like an unwanted gift you still have anticipated, so you keep smiling to please the donor. “Finally.” Her mouth was once again outstretched in that horrendous toothy smile, lips almost cracking under the strain of holding it all together. Boney arms holding out for a hug.

“Hello.” There was a polite voice behind him but he did not turn. Aemond already knew what this was about, this was not the first time he would get ambushed by his mother’s scheming mind into the web of being introduced to some bratty heiress. He did not even notice when his brother ran off, probably searching for another drink or a white powder to misuse, leaving Aemond to fend for himself. 

The young lady moved in a nonchalant manner, her attention solely on her mother and her outstretched arms. The hug was awkward, he could feel the deja vu pulsing through him. Image of Aemond and his mother enveloped in such a hug. A constant reminder of the chasm between them over unsaid things.

The stark contrast between the mother and her daughter was apparent. Boney corpse parading around the mirage of a living body dressed in light blue dress and young lady in red, bow tying it all around her neck, accompanying her.

“This is my daughter.” 

“It’s so lovely to meet you, dear.” The smile on his mother’s face was sincere, in some manner she was always excited to meet new young ladies, if it was ‘cause of her single sons or lonely daughter he did not know.

“Oh, thank you.” There was untypical shiness to her, voice not trembling but slightly fighting to be heard in the overabundance of loud talking. She seemed confident enough next to her own mother just like he was next to his. Her bright eyes had moved from Alicent to him and Aemond recognized the uneasiness in them. Used to the parties but not used to the contact with people at them.

“I am Y/N-” Her words just like her unstretched hand toward him were interrupted by her mother abruptly moving to the side. Attention of everyone in the conversation then shifted to the new face entering in. Another young woman, this time more similar to the mother in her face, same structure but much younger was now staring at him, grinning widely. The white dress shining in the light.

“Oh, you have to meet my oldest! She is such a delight!” This time Mrs. Baeltigar’s voice was high pitched, excitement radiating from the statement.  This was the second time Aemond felt deja vu struck him on this particular night. Oldest and delight, that’s how his mother used to talk about Aegon in front of everyone. Her most prized son, a son who did not care for his education and ended up on his younger brother’s coach, hiding from the rest of the family. 

The Baeltigar’s oldest daughter was marching right to them the moment she realized her mothers presence. Almost bumping into one of the waitresses' sides, overjoyed by the possible introduction, she clung to her mother’s thin left arm. 

“Margo Baeltigar, pleasure to meet you,” Margo’s voice was similar to her mother’s high pitch and sugary, leaving a sour taste in Aemond. The oldest was almost hyper focused on him and before he could even react to her introduction, she opened her mouth again but no words got to him. Because while this conversation took place the other sister carefully navigated her way around her sister’s body, moving into the background. Her figure slowly and unnoticed disappearing behind the two M named ladies, fighting for his and Alicent's attention.

There was a heavy stone set in his throat, his stomach fluttering at the same time and Aemond did not know what it meant, not yet. 

Aemond was thankful for not being seated at the same table as his mother or anyone from his family and while the company next to him was quite boring he knew it could have always been worse. Five seats out of six already occupied, he was not expecting any miracles from the last person yet to arrive. 

On his right was one of his father’s long term investors with his wife, a quiet old man with an already full belly even before the food had yet to arrive, his wife still yapping in her husband’s ear since they were seated, while on his left were two other men, one of them younger than the other. The younger one seemed like a total newcomer to this kind of event, to this kind of society too, his eyes constantly darted from one table to another, trying to identify everyone present. However, the man next to him was the opposite, comfortably sprawled in his seat, his hand leaning on the young man’s chair, black eyes observing his behavior, finding amusement in it. His smooth hair was graying just like his beard but there was pleasant handsomeness in his face. 

“I was almost afraid you would run off,” The silver fox at their table spoke up, gaze heading to someone behind his shoulder, the last person finally arrived at their table.  Aemond was only slightly interested in the person, another short distraction in a long night, he knew them all and quite frankly, they were all boring. 

The figure moved, he could feel the movement behind him, wind picking up, fabric rustling, heels clicking. A woman. Or a very short man, he had noticed several guys trying to hide their shortage, pun intended, by clapping heels hidden beneath longer suit pants. 

His hand gripped the champagne flute, glass slick with condensation, almost causing shivers down his spine. The liquid was bitter, bubbles fizzing on his tongue, and for a second it was an uncomfortable feeling before the drink slid down. In moments like these Aemond understood why his brother was always drinking, in the end there was nothing else to do. 

The new addiction to the table was finally at her seat, still chatting with the man. And just like the bubbles his boredom fizzled off. The bow was gone and she was no longer wearing the pretty red dress. Her current dress was snow white, like fresh cotton sheets, and on one shoulder. The fabric was dangling off her in an awkward manner, almost as if it was not meant for her. Her shoulders were hidden by black suit jacket, a decent and modest combo, however, it was apparent the outfit was not meant to be this way.

But white suits her.

“Don’t worry, I just went to save my sister.” The almost silver haired man moved the empty chair for her to sit in more comfortably, too eager for a new distraction at the table just like Aemond was. And once again Aemond felt something within him move, how did they know each other, were they close, he might be years older than her but even his mother was significantly younger than his father. 

“Oh, what has she done this time?” Laughter erupted from the man, cheeks blooming red. For a moment, Aemond thought she would take offense to such a statement, he probably would but only in the sense of feeling embarrassment for himself stemming from his brother’s failures. In some sense he loved his brother but on most days he was exploding in anger over Aegon’s public mistakes.

 However, she only sheepishly grinned before motioning to her side. “Spilled some wine on herself.” And truly there it was, ugly red stain on her hip, the jacket covering it just enough to not be prominent in the evening dim lighting, saving her from judging glares.

“Of course you did.” This time the man was the one with a sheepish smile hiding behind his glass, twinkle in his eyes indicating some kind of hidden joke. 

The Targaryen felt like he was the only one witnessing the conversation even though the full table’s attention was turned to two. His eyes were scanning her face, then the dress and then her face again. She acted as if she was so used to it and there was silent understanding on his part for such action. It wasn’t long before the two noticed his unmoving gaze, while the other occupants of the table turned to their own matters.

“I suppose our introduction was cut short. I am Y/-,” He did like her smile, it was soft, not quite reaching her eyes, not in a malicious kind of way. To an untrained eye it would only seem like a sincere reaction, to Aemond’s it was apparent her smile was the result of years of practice. 

“I know.” His voice cut through her sentence like a hot knife, stopping her completely. Aemond knew of his talent to be awfully cold to people but this time he had truly overdone himself. The smile he rewarded her with, trying to improve his reputation, only received by a puzzled look from her and her companion. 

This night can’t get worse.

Rough grimace struck his face, muscles twitching under the pressure of his failing. He was good at this, he was good at these events. So why was he fucking it all up today? Bitter feeling bit his throat and he wished he could swallow all the shame in the world, devour every mistake he ever made so no one could gaze upon them and he would be perfect again. Was it because she felt familiar to him? Because she had the same watchful eyes behind her every step, watching her to complain about her wrong doings? Or maybe he was completely wrong and playing himself entirely.

After the food arrived, most of the over the table conversation had died down, except for a few whispers here and there between some of them. He did not register any kind of taste, all was now in a fog to him, the illusion of a perfect man shattering with each glance turned to her. Only consolation prize to him were the few and far inbetween looks she rewarded him with. The plates with food were gone just as fast as they appeared, all in a flash moving forward. It was time to go out, social torture once again in progress. 

And at the end of the night, when most of the guests had already left and the rest were getting ready to leave, he saw a glimpse of her saying goodbye to the older man from their table. Aemond realized he never got to know his name but he knew he could turn the tables, he could make this right again. 

There was not much left of the courage in him on this grim night, but what was left had to be sufficient for now. His movement was rigid, he weaved between the people, tables and chairs, mind almost blank except for the command to move forward, to go to her.

“Hi.” Was his voice always so rough? He tried to swallow with no success, the lump in his throat winning.

“Hi.” Her eyes were wide, caught by surprise, she moved to fully face him. The light softly illuminated her face, giving her a certain glow he knew he would never forget. There just was something so familiar about her. Like a picture he has seen before but now had no recollection of. Have they already met? He couldn’t remember even though he really wanted to.

“Sorry about the…” His head moved to their table, indicating what he meant without having to say that. Aemond was sure he would spontaneously combust if he had to talk about his own rudeness caused by the unfamiliar uneasiness in his stomach more than this.

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Her answer was so casual, as if his rude behavior was long gone from her mind, while he wanted the opposite even if it were her remembering only the worst stuff about him. He needed her to remember him.

He could hear someone call her name, the shadow of her mother frantically waving her hand at them, signaling something to her. There was a drunk mess of a person even further behind her mother, hair everywhere, red dress tripping her on uneasy legs.

It was an image he was so used to by now, but this time, it was not his responsibility. It was someone else’s. And somehow it changed nothing, there was a bile rising up inside him, hands sweaty and heart beating too fast, such a familiar situation he saw her in. It was like looking in the mirror.

She was biting her lip anxiously, some part of her evidently annoyed at her sister and he wanted to tell her to never ever do that again. He wanted to take all her worries away, he wanted to do that for her.

“Sorry…” Her shoulders visibly slumped, one of her shoulders escaping from under the black jacket. “Have to go.” Her manicured thumb pointing behind her, at the mess she was meant to deal with. Her older sister was drunk off her mind, stumbling in the crowd, the man with her unable to hold her straight up, part of him found relief in the fact Aegon was not with her. One of her heels dangled off the man’s hand while the other wrestled to keep her on her feet.

“Have a great night!” Aemond thought these words might haunt him for the rest of his life, the rest of the night squished into few fragments of him saying bye to people and getting back to his apartment, while some part of him was still stuck in the moment with her.

Teal blue

This time she was wearing teal blue gown, satin complementing her skin like nothing he has ever seen. Her smile was wide and even though Aemond saw her only in passing, a warm feeling spread through his insides. Since their first encounter he had chastised himself for his behavior, praying for a chance to redeem himself to her.

However, they were not seated at the same table and for once he found himself disappointed for the lack of his mother's interference. And so after losing Aegon, in the crowd, even though he was meant to babysit him after his last drunk tirade at some club went public, he began mapping the whole place in hope to find the teal gown in the crowd. 

It was after the obnoxious dinner that he found her standing next to the bar, the silverfox by her side once again. Aemond could not hear them but it seemed as an interesting conversation by the way her arms flailed while explaining something. Wide grins spreaded over both of their faces before a round of giggles overcame them. Faced near each other in secretive closeness, they held on the other’s arms strongly while their bodies shook in held down laughter.

He wanted to know what they were to each other, how back they went and why they held each other so familiarly and he wanted to do the same with her. It was like a new emotion, jealousy he had never experienced. 

His pleading stares must have awoken some mercy in her. The young lady bid goodbye to her friend and gracefully walked over to him, still holding his gaze. And even though Aemond’s attention the whole night was fixated on the image of her, now that she was there, he was lost for words. 

“Evening.” The cheeky smile was back and if it was to disarm him it worked perfectly. Lost in his nervous thoughts, he chewed on his cheek, an anxiety filled bad habit he picked up as a kid. It took him a moment to realize she was patiently waiting for his reply. He completely forgot he was meant to give her his greeting too.

“Evening.” He could only mutter his reply. Needles of uneasiness prickling along his spine, giddy feeling spread through him now that he was once again near her. He needed to set it right, courage boiling his throat but no words came out, he was overwhelmed by all of it. His solace was found in a similar scene in front of him. 

She, like himself, was in a frozen state, mouth open, ready to speak and eyes moving all around the room, searching for something to say. Both of them desperately need to say something to the other, not only to fill the silence but for the simple reason to converse with the other one. 

The voices and music completely overwhelmed them and while they hoped it would soothe some of the anxiety over their failed meetings it only fueled their nerves more. Their eyes met again, corners of their mouths simultaneously lifted, smiling like idiots. And there was a silent understanding between them. The ballroom is too loud, let’s move it to the balcony.

The balcony itself was absolutely quiet, there was no one who would disturb them. Night cold breeze was slowly picking up but the heat from the inside was enough to keep them satisfied. He could not see the outside properly, lights blinding his vision of their surroundings and he liked it this way. 

Maybe this time he would not come off as a rude idiot to her, maybe this time it could all end well. Both of them stood with their backs to the lights of the ballroom, only darkness before them and cold railing underneath their hands. The silence between them was comfortable, for now at least.

Aemond was aware of the intense stare she was giving him, precisely his fake eye and the scar dividing the bad eye socket into two. It had been years since he gained the injury, the scar no longer dark reddish color but more of a white pink, it faded slowly, plus his mother begged his father to pay for laser treatment to help it fade out quicker. He also got gifted the new fake eye, his mother was absolutely ecstatic over it, her sweet son’s face finally appeared more normal. 

He knew she did not mean it that way but it still hurt, and the eye itself hurt or maybe it was the injury itself. If only he could wear his eyepatch to these kinds of events but according to his mother it was too eye-catching (pun not intended) compared to the fake eye even though if someone looked at him for too long they would probably notice not only the scar but the fact he could not fully open the eye or the lack of movement in it. And so fake eye it was.

“How did it happen?” Her eyes softly cascaded over his face before settling on his bad eye again.

“It was…,” Aemond felt like he couldn’t breathe, not this conversation again ,” an unfortunate accident.” Over the years he had dozens upon dozens of people asking him the same question and not stopping snooping even with his short answers cutting them off.

“Oh, sorry to hear that.” Her attention turned to the crowd behind them, they might have moved to one of the balconies but the noise of people was still present.

“It’s okay.” He hummed, never knowing what to say to those who pitied him over the injury. “It happened years ago.” Aemond hardly ever thought about it now, it worked as a bitter reminder of his own carelessness in the end. And while some responsibility laid with his cousins and brother he knew it was his decision, he couldn’t blame them for it even if he did at the start.

“It’s more purple.” Her attention was back on him, staring right at  the fake eye once again.

“What?”

“The other eye.” Her delicate hand pointed to his left side of face. “It’s more purple.” Aemond knew the prosthetic he got was not identical in the color to his other eye and while others claimed he was only imagining it, he knew. He knew it was not the exact shade of purple like his other eye.

People always saw the younger son of Alicent Hightower and Viserys Targaryen, second born son, the Targaryen boy, not Aemond. Not the young Baeltigar, she looked at him, not through him, not at his family, not at his very possibly, almost surely, shiny future thanks to his name.

He had never felt so seen in his life and being known by her became a carnal need to him.

This time it was his mother who called for a saving of an older sibling, in the middle of the night Aegon had sneaked away from Cole’s watchful eyes and ended up drunk as the dirty pig he was. They must have found him half asleep on some naked lady’s back in one of the private rooms of the manor the event was at, his hair was a complete mess, his earring already gone and tie let loose. Aemond expected him in a worse state than this, most of the time he was called to him half dead, this was nothing compared to those times. But his mother was red faced, completely embarrassed by his brother’s antics.

Light pink

It was weird, feeling this nauseating feeling within him. Aemond felt like a little boy again, excited for another gala where he could show how perfect of a son he is. When he was still a child he would parade himself around, maybe because his mother and father did not, while Aegon got all the attention. 

However, this time it was different, this time it was only because of one person, one person’s perception of him. He was excited to see her and for her to see him. Their last talk left him hopeful for more.

This time it was her who found him, dressed in light pink fabric that was easily floating around her in the soft breeze, she found him right after dinner. He was just thinking about the appetizer, perfectly composed plate with balanced flavors but he could not figure out what the sauce was made out of. It was a little game he liked to play with himself, so he wouldn’t lose his mind over the boredom. 

“Are our meetings destined to be cut short every single time?” With a champagne flute in hand, another occupied by a whole bottle of it, casually staring him down with a light smile gracing her face, she talked comfortably to him.

“Hope not.” He could feel corners of his mouth twitching and soon a similar smile appeared on his face. It warmed his heart that she was the one to find him, that he was not the only one searching for her and she herself was on a mission to find him. 

Just like the white dress, or any other actually, the light pink shade suited her. The thin fabric of the short sleeves hid her shoulders away from him but he was still fascinated by the soft skin of the inside of her arm.  He could feel the twitch of his fingertips over the thought of touching her there. 

Once again soft silence creeped on them while the both of them observed his older brother, balancing one glass of whiskey in his hand while trying to stay upright, his attention far away from the liquor spilling over the brim but on the young lady in front of him. If it was anyone else Aemond might have felt embarrassment bubbling up to the surface but since he had seen her own older sister in similar state, her presence left him unmoved by it. 

“I think some part of me hates him.” The words left him before he could fully comprehend what he was saying.

She hummed at that, it was a comforting sound he did not deserve, at least in his head. No proper brother could say something like this about his sibling. Regret was a bitter friend to his heart and to his mind. He should not have said that, not to her, she should not know how angry he was inside. 

“He is my brother.” He tried to convince her of his sins against his family, his kin. Part of him did not want to acknowledge fully what he said, he prayed to stay in her good grace, in everyone’s good grace by being the good son, the good Targaryen boy, polite, smart, sophisticated.

.

“I know.” She laughed with ease and Aemond knew the bitter feeling was not going to fade away, as always. He could not escape the regret of speaking out, he did not deserve any pity.

“It’s so hard to explain to anyone.” The words fell off his tongue so freely, Aemond thought someone else was using his mouth to voice out their concern. 

“Right?” Another comforting sound came out of her and maybe the bitterness could fade away from him, from both of them. He could feel it radiating from her skin, they were so similar and unaware of it until now.  “Everyone always tells me to just let it go-, you don’t own them anything and yadayada-, but I can’t-”

“Because she is your sister.” Before she could finish, he knew what she was going to say, he knew those words too well. Everyone said them to him, let it go, let your brother go, he will fuck up and he will have to solve it. However, he could not because in the end he was the one getting voicemails of his drunk brother’s voice, panicked calls from his mother, there was no escaping it, his blood, his family tree tied him to this whole mess. Just like her.

“Yeah…” she nodded, tired from the whole situation. “Exactly.” He did not like the line between her brows, frown caused by his voice, his words. He wished to never see that expression on her face ever again.

“We can’t save them.” The wind pushed the words away from the pair and neither of them knew who uttered them first or who regretted them before the other one.

Another sip of champagne turned into two and then a long gulp, they shared the alcohol so freely, Aemond felt like he could fly in the sky, happy butterflies flapping their wings on the inside of him. She soon downed her flute and instead of filling it back up her hand set the glass down with a clink. 

The light from the ballroom framed her perfectly, creating a vibrant halo around her silhouette. And again Aemond was lost at the vision of her. She was so comfortable in her skin, in her own struggles, in this situation. She felt comfortable even to him and he wanted her to remain comfortable for the rest of her life.

And so he nudged her shoulder with the champagne bottle, creating a moist trace below her armlet. For a moment he was hypnotized by the droplet and its slick path trailing down her arm. He envied it for even a longer moment, to trace her skin to him is to die of the fire inside him. 

Her hand gripped the bottle, tilting it slightly, another sip of the still cold liquor ended in her mouth. And with that he realized she drank alcohol like Aegon did, with no struggle, with no twitch in her face over the bitter taste, like she liked the feeling of it hitting her tongue. He missed the weight of the bottle in his hand and the empty feeling started to itch on his skin, before he realized.

It felt almost intimate, his cheeks aflame and the little boy in him was kicking his feet. An indirect kiss. He drank from the bottle himself before her, their lips touched the same surface.

He did not even notice how the evening turned into a night, only darkness now facing them on the balcony high above ground. Voices behind them have yet to tune down but he could feel the event slowly ending.

And the familiar man was back, simply nodding to her not daring to step even a bit to them, only glancing at them from the inside of the big hall. The smile on his face might have been in a friendly manner but his round glasses hide the glint in his black eyes.

“What are you two?” Throughout their conversations Aemond realized he liked how she enjoyed his forwardness, just like he did with her. There was no shame between them.

“Me and…” there was a slight twitch in her face and she tried to contain it, unsuccessfully in the end “Kim?” 

Kim. 

He did not mind the name, it went over his tongue and he swallowed it slowly. It was not a name he hated, it just felt unfamiliar. However, he was not afraid of it, not with her by his side. The fox be damned.

The laughter was soft, almost scaring him for a moment. Whispered giggles as if she tried to hold it in, turned into a full blown cackling. Her body bending forward with hand set on her stomach, she looked at him, shining once again. 

“He is my friend. Like an uncle… some sort of, I guess.” She giggled at these words. Quick glance and he saw Kim looking their way again, smirking in a conspicuous manner. 

“Oh.” Embarrassment reddened his cheeks, shattering any kind of thoughts left in his stupid thick skull, except for the two voices.

Of course.

They are just friends.

Calm down.

Thank god.

Tucking on his sleeve, he turned his full attention back to her. His body was so close to hers, he could almost distinguish the shape of the lights reflecting in her eyes. And her wide eyes only stared at him. Aemond could get used to this kind of attention, he loved it too much for his liking. It was intoxicating.

Her arms enveloped him, she folded him into her embrace like it was nothing, it was an instinct to her. Even Aemond could feel she needed him close, a secret message embedded into the touch but the meaning was evading him. Both of them knew though, this meant something to both of them and it calmed them.

She was holding him so close and so gently, he never ever experienced something like this. No one ever treated him this way, he almost thought he did not deserve it. It was foreign but not unpleasant but he still felt undeserving of this. To receive kindness was a different kind of punishment for him. Warm touch burning him to the bones, scarring him, it was an awful feeling like nothing else. However, this felt holy, as if gods decided to bless his horrible mind. His horrible mind that only thought of her, how he could keep himself in her presence. She was warm and kind, dark as a shadow and present in everything. No, there might be a holiness in her touch, that kind he might become slave to, but to her, there was nothing saint. She was rotten, broken and mend on the inside like him and still she decided to look at him as if complete, as if she accepted it. And Aemond knew he could never get enough of it.

At that moment it was apparent to him. Hell existed and for them it was their sacrifices for their families, expected of them and without reward. Hell for them was sewed into their blood and they couldn’t do anything about it just obey the law set upon them by the iron chain in their veins. 

Her movement unsettled him, afraid of losing her warmth, calmness now in disarray in his heart. She moved away, just slightly but enough that they could see into each other's eyes and there was uncommon indecision in her stare, and then she moved again.

The first touch of her lips was hesitant, almost shy and maybe it was all the alcohol playing with his brain, Aegon oftentimes blabbered with his drunk mouth about beautiful dreams of even more beautiful ladies before Aemond woke him up to get him home. But if it was a dream, he hoped it would last a lifetime before he himself had to be awoken.

It was soft, almost innocent. Her lips just gently touched his before courage overtook her and something hungry awoke in him. What was once a gentle embrace soon turned into a violent clash, their mouths fighting against each other, devouring more and more of the other person. There was no stopping now, any kind of will of holding themselves back was gone forever. They stepped over the line, now open for crossing.

Her hand gripped his forearm urging him closer, each kiss more hungry, igniting something within him. Soon a soft skin met his neck, gripping the hair at the base and tugging. In that moment his legs almost gave up on him, the overwhelming feeling consuming him completely, his mind, his body and his soul. 

That's how life should be, he thought, being drunk and kissing a pretty girl, kissing her.

Her warmth suddenly left him and the young Targaryen had no desire to open his eyes, too afraid of the dream ending. Maybe if he kept his eyes closed he would never wake up, she would never leave and her touch on his skin would be still present.

Another soft kiss tore him up from that fantasy, this time on his cheek and what he saw was a vision he never wished to forget. Her cheeks were red, hair a complete mess, absolutely breathless, trying to calm down but still the most beautiful person he has ever met. Pupils blown wide moving across his face, her smile reached her eyes and her whole face was bright.

“I have to go.” He did not like those words. No, there was no ending to it now, they were meant to kiss forever until both of them suffocated, unable to leave the presence of the other.

“No.” His voice was hoarse but the implication of his words seemed too stern for his fogged brain. 

“My taxi is here.” Her hand moved, pointing to the yellow car parked and waiting for the next passenger. The smile she gave him was reassuring, lulling him back to the foggy fantasy of kissing her again. 

“Oh.” 

He watched her wave goodbye to a few people, leaving in their own cars or by other taxis, he himself should get moving, find his brother and leave too. However, he could not move, his body rigidly straightened, neck craning to catch a few last more glimpses of the car she left in. 

And even with her once again gone, Aemond’s mind was dizzy and belly full of butterflies.

“Awww, you smooched the girl.” His brother giggled from the coach, his form morphing into the soft cushions, with one of his sweaty hands grasping for the bottle set on the coffee table. While his brother was occupying the coach, his oldest cousin took the armchair next to it, spreaded out just like Aegon. Luke, the younger cousin of his, was meanwhile seated next to his brother but on the ground with his back to the armchair, with one cushion stuffed under him, functioning like a seat.

All of them were in some state of disarray, of course his brother the most. Aegon’s tie was missing, just like his suit jacket and one of his shoes. If he knew one of his feet was bare, not counting the dirty sock still stuck on it, he did not let it be known by anyone. The white shirt he wore was sticking to his skin and some of the buttons were undone throughout the night, Aemond could see the tiny stain on his right wrist. White wine or whiskey, he wasn't sure. Compared to him both of Jace’s shoes were present, his hair a complete mess just like Aemond’s, and while he took off his own suit jacket it was apparent that tomorrow won’t be pleasant for his head. The most kept of them was young Luke presumably because Jace did not let him drink more than a flute of champagne through the dinner and a few sips of the wine served at the event.  

“You didn’t have to call them here.” Aemond waved his hand to their cousins. His older brother decided to end his night with a big sweet treat as a finale, Aemond’s humiliation. It took him one text, snap exactly, to their cousin Jace and they were all here, in Aemond’s apartment. At least Baela and her sister went out for more drinks and were not present, plus Heleana already left because she felt too tired, bless her heart.

“Oh, come on.” Aegon was enjoying it all, the panicked expression of his brother, the utter confusion of their cousins and most of all, the drink he was finishing. “Take this as a…,” his arms motioned into the open living room, searching for the correct words,“family bonding experience, eh?” His brother’s face was once again graced by a cheeky smirk. Once more Aemond felt like a joke, as a tired, drunk joke but he knew if he decided to go to bed, sleep would not overcome him, only panic would.

“So… How did it happen?” Young Luke piped up, his ears turning a light shade of pink. At least Aemond was not the only one embarrassed by the conversation.

“Well-, I-I kissed her?” Shrugging his shoulders, Aemond tried to act as if talking about it was not bothering him at all, as if it was another normal conversation.

“That sounded more like a question, mate.” This time it was Jace who spoke up, not giving Aemond even a glance, occupied by his phone, possibly texting Baela, while still part of the conversation.

“We… kissed…” He was at a loss of words, how does he describe it…. It wasn’t like this was Aemond’s first kiss, far from that. There were some girls in school when he was younger, few relationships, notably with Alys, that one had a nasty end. “And… so- like…,” The whole conversation was not only irritating his nerves and his brain but his eye, the old scar pulsing under the pressure of the talk and even the fake eye.

Fuck. I need to get it out.

Aemond was still uncomfortable with taking his fake eye out in front of… well basically anyone and while he could go search for the eyepatch he wore instead of the artificially created prosthetic, his nerves did not allow him to move.

His silence was not taken lightly by the men in his living room, each of them racking their brains as to why someone like him was unable to describe what happened.

“But it was like…” Jace nodded his head, trying to indicate the words without saying them,” y’know… consensual?” At this Aemond’s pacing stopped, it all happened too fast. Did HE kiss her first? He definitely didn’t have enough courage to kiss her first, did he? Maybe the alcohol, maybe she… 

“I… think so?” Memories in Aemond’s head started to swim, prompted by an anxious feeling setting in his chest, messing up his perception of the events or maybe it was the alcohol…

“Okay…” He did not like this reaction from his brother one bit, nerves one level higher and he might definitely explode. The whole room was slowly but surely getting influenced by his own nerves in the end not helping him ease his mind at all, more like provoking him to descend to madness more and more.

“So that kiss was like… alright, eh?” Aegon’s unsure face was also not helping his nervous mind.

“Eh…” He did not like this sound, he himself did not know where it came from but the tone prompted everyone to silently pounder for a few seconds before they arrived at their separate conclusions.

All eyes turned to his tall frame, mouths slowly opening. “Don’t.” He tried to shut them down promptly, hand raised at them once again, especially if their conclusion was that he was a bad kisser.

“But what if she actually doesn’t like you?” Aegon’s words cause them to think again while Aemond pointed his finger at him, fuming and ready to slap his brother over the head.

“Wait a second…” He tried to gain footing in the conversation but it was a losing battle. “I am just saying that-” This time Aemond was sure to swat his hand toward his brother, meters away, meant to not cause any harm but to at least scare him a bit.

“Hold on,-” Luke was unsuccessfully trying to defuse the situation, getting this conversation might have been going the wrong route.

“He did not mean it like that!” Jace too tried to intercede the whole ordeal but just like his younger brother completely unsuccessful.

“Yeah and how the FUCK did he mean it then!?” Aemond’s nerves finally gave up, letting out his fury. 

“Calm DOWN!” The armchair under Jace screeched after he pushed it in an attempt to stand up, ending up back in it after losing his balance.

“He WAS JUST SAYIN-” It was Luke’s turn to get up or it was simply prompted by his brother moving his back support. 

“I DON’T CARE!” His throat felt tight, scratched from the volume of his voice. He knew he was losing it but he could not stop.

The words took everyone by surprise. They were used to some mean and angry words from Aemond, he was antisocial on his better days and if pushed far enough he would get cruel in some fucked up way to hide himself from the world. However, to see him bubble over, to let himself scream so unapologetically… this was the first time for any of them to witness, even Aegon got quiet.

“What if she doesn’t like me?” It came out more like a whisper, an involuntary sound escaped him and Aemond was finally ready to collapse, to throw it all out of the window, lose it completely and most embarrassingly ready to cry in front of them.

“I mean, maybe she likes y-” Aegon’s voice piped from his right, still on the coach he was subtly hiding behind his now empty beer bottle.

“YOU said that MAYBE SHE DOESN’T LIKE ME!” 

“I am sure she likes you.”

“HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT?”

“WELL, I WAS NOT THERE!” 

But this time Aegon was down to yelling it out along with his brother, the alcohol or just his rude nature supporting him in the decision. The screaming match went on for quite some time, Luke and Jace slowly joining, the living room becoming louder and louder, Aemond’s downstairs neighbors were sure to call the police any minute now. At the end none of them knew how the screaming match started, who argued with what or what they were arguing about, the alcohol dulling their sense of reason.

“Why are you all yelling?!” Baela’s agitated voice sounded from the front door, she was still in her coat while Rhaena had her shoes already off.

And then inferno began once more, voices shouting over each other in a chaotic symphony.

“RHEANA!”

“BAELA! YOU WON’T BEL-!”

“WHAT IF SHE DOESN’T LIKE M-!”

“YO AEMOND KISSED -!”

For a moment they all quieted down, catching their breath, bodies heaving and faces reddened, fingers still pointed at each other. “What?” Rheana asked, turning her gaze to her sister in a confused manner. Baela instead looked unamused partly because she got used to such banter from the younger two men.

“DRINKS!”

All heads turned to Aegon whose attention was now preoccupied by the plastic bag dangling from Baela’s hand. She lifted her hand, dangling it in front of his face as some sort of bait. And while the girls lured Aegon into the kitchen with the bad set down on the kitchen counter, Aemond felt like crying. Crying like when he was a little kid, unable to escape his doom.

Bottles clicked against each other aggravating Aemond even more. His anxiety was spiking up, dizziness almost overcoming him. This could only result in another screaming match between all of them until he would give up and tell them to fuck out of his apartment, Aegon included, even if he had been sleeping on his coach for the last 2 months.

Speaking of which, his brother was once again attempting to open a new bottle of beer while the girls finally sat on the coach previously occupied solely by him. “Thanks for the keys.” Rheana’s outstretched arm was handing him his keys but Aemond felt drained of all energy. Instead of taking them he motioned for her to throw them, catching them with ease. The iron keys to his apartment comfortably cold from the outside night air, grounding him in his own body. He was fine, in his living room, in his apartment… and he was fine.

“So…,” Rheana could feel his uneasiness prompting her to tune down the volume of her voice to a soft mumble, almost whispering, “what was all of this about?” 

“He kissed the girl,” Aegon shared on the behalf of his brother. Aemond was not sure if it was for his own sakes or if he simply wanted to be the one to break the news once again.

“The girl?” Her eyebrows raised, Baela motioned with a light smirk to Jace to continue, to indulge her curiosity. And he would of course indulge her as always. “Yeah.” 

“Wait… what girl?” Her sister spoke up, this time louder while another cheeky smile played on Baela’s face, giggling like a schoolgirl ready to receive another juicy rumor.

So Aemond recounted the story one more time, this time properly with some actual details. They talked, shared some personal stuff, and when it came to saying goodbye she kissed him before leaving in a taxi. He made sure to leave out the details of his knees buckling every time she had touched him or the fact he could still smell her shampoo and was still thinking about her eyes, lips, everything.

“Well, she is the girl.” Baela whispered mischievously, her elbow assaulting her sister’s side before the mischief in her face turned into another loud laughter. Rheana giggles had continued to sound throughout the room, waking him up again.

“Yeah?” Confused grimace overtook Luke’s face, his whole face scrunched in confusion. “So?” With a nod Aemond tried to urge the girls to continue, almost not breathing over what might come out of their mouths. There was hope for his doing and where was hope was also disappointment.

“I can guarantee you she knows that she is THE girl” Rhaena laughed even more. “I mean SHE kissed him!” Aegon gave Aemond a pointed look which turned into a cheeky grin before a hysterical laughter overcame him, realizing they truly might have been overthinking the whole situation. The bottle of beer he was holding up to his mouth for a not sip shaking violently, spilling some of its content out on his shirt, adding to the mess of him.

 “Honestly, guys… I don’t know what you are all debating over” The sisters bumped their shoulders, giggling like little girls, excited over the information. “She obviously likes him.” And even more loud giggles followed, Aegon gradually joining in with his screeching laugh, not holding back.

“Shit.” Faint murmur left his lips. Realization setting in, he might have kissed her but she was definitely the first one to make a move.

This was one of the worst and best nights in his life.

[junrenjun]

Catharsis

omega!jeonghan x beta!reader (part of ot13 x reader understand series)

genre: angsty i guess? fluff too

wc: 1.2k (short and sweet)

warnings: fem reader, implied member x member, hannie is sad, mention of injuries

summary: sometimes jeonghan needs a little reminder that it's okay to take care of himself too.

a/n: i've been wanting to write a jeonghan installment forever. i feel like this really didn't do his and mc's relationship justice, but i hope it is enough for now. i did have an anon send me this idea, so shoutout to that anon.

Jeonghan was…apprehensive about you joining the pack. Not because he didn’t like you. No, you were everything he could possibly ask for. But he’s nothing if not an attention whore and he’s already sharing with 12 other packmates. Another one would surely do him in.

He stands corrected though. Especially right now, when you’re giving your best attempt at nesting for him. He’s fresh home from the hospital after his ankle surgery and everything hurts. Obviously his ankle but also his heart. All he wants right now is to make a nice big nest and share it with his pack. But they’re in Japan and he’s in Korea. And he can’t even walk. He couldn’t be more useless as a pack omega right now.

At least your nest making is a bit of a distraction in the meantime. It’s haphazard and rushed, but it’s clear you are trying your best. It makes Jeonghan laugh because it reminds him of the first nest he ever tried to make as a freshly presented omega. 

You might not have the omega nesting instinct to help you out, but you do have the beta calming instinct guiding you. It’s cute, the way you fuss over where to put each item, sniffing them lightly to test the scent.

Your cuteness doesn’t distract him for long though, because soon he’s reminded once again that he left the rest of his pack in a foreign country to finish out a tour without a pack alpha, beta, or omega. He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until he lets out a sniffle.

The sound has you whipping around, abandoning your nest building with Seungkwan’s jacket still in your hands. You urge him into the nest gently and he tries his best to not disturb your hard work. Once he’s settled, you raise a hand to wipe his tears away. 

“I abandoned my pack,” he cries into your shoulder. 

You attempt to shush him again, but it only makes the sobs worse. “No you didn't, Hannie. You had to come home for this surgery and they know that. They’ll be okay for now.”

While your words were meant to soothe, it only makes his mind race more. “But what if Vernon eats something with peanuts in it?” he asks.

“He has an epipen there,” you respond. You can tell he’s starting to spiral because he just keeps asking questions. You do your best to fend them off. 

“Who is going to watch him and Seungkwan when their cycles hit?”

“There’s literally 9 other pack members there to do that.”

“What if Jihoon has an episode?”

“We have FaceTime for a reason.” “What if taking care of everyone is too much for Joshua?”

“Wonwoo will help him.”

“What if…”

You cut him off. “Can you stop worrying about them for 5 seconds and worry about yourself for once?”

Jeonghan snaps his mouth shut. You regret your words instantly, because his scent goes infinitely sour. You scrunch your nose in response. “I don’t want to worry about myself,” he whispers. 

You take a deep breath. His scent is mixed with frustration and hurt and it makes your heart ache. At least he’s being vulnerable with you. It’s a start. 

“I’m sorry you have to be away from them right now Jeonghan. But you’ve taught them how to take care of themselves, just like any good pack omega,” you tell him.

You can see the distress in his eyes as he searches for his next words. “I just…feel like I’m letting them down.” You cuddle yourself further into his side, reaching to rub your wrist against his. 

“You aren’t,” you tell him firmly. “They want what’s best for you right?” 

He nods in response and you take it as a sign to continue. “Right now you’re injured, and what’s best for you is to be here with me and Cheol, okay? You’re not doing this alone.”

His tears have started to subside and you let him take a few minutes to compose himself. Once he does, you instinctively run your wrist over his neck, spreading your scent over his to neutralize the distressed smell. He sinks further into the nest and you take his relaxation as a sign that he’s okay. “Are you hungry?” you ask. “I told Cheol I would grab him some food once you were settled in.”

“A little bit,” he murmurs. It may not be an honest answer, but it’s better than a refusal. 

“Okay” you tell him. “I’m just going to be out for a few minutes. I should be back soon. Text Cheol if you need something.” You press a kiss to his forehead and try your best to not ruin the nest as you scoot out. 

He watches as you go and has a hard time tearing his eyes off the open doorway once you are out of sight. What did he do to deserve you? When he finally does look away, his gaze lands on the picture frame sitting on his bedside table. It’s a somewhat recent picture. One you made them take in a professional studio right before they left for tour. Matching clothes and everything. You had done it thinking you would be home without them most of the time, not knowing two of the boys would join you months later. 

He reaches for the picture, grabbing it to get a closer look. Wonwoo looks funny without his glasses. Seokmin’s smile is wide as usual, reaching all the way up to his eyes. Vernon has his arm slung over Seungkwan’s shoulder, unsurprisingly. Jun’s hair is parted unevenly and Jeonghan remembers his concerned reaction when the photographer showed them the final product. Everyone looks happy. Trying to cherish these memories for as long as possible, he pulls the frame to his chest, hugging it lightly. He doesn’t even realize how tired he is and, eventually, lets sleep take him. 

He wakes up a half hour later to you gently pulling the picture frame from his arms. “Don’t want this to break,” you whisper to him. He lets you grab it and pushes himself further up in the bed. That’s when he notices the bag on the table where you carefully put the photo back. 

“You got food from the cafe?” he asks, eyes already brimming with tears. 

You look up at him hesitantly. “Oh, yeah. Is that okay? It seems to be a comfort meal for most of us now.”

He’s immediately grabbing the bag from the table, answering your question without saying anything. When he looks inside, it’s full of only his favorites. “It’s weird that you know me better than I know myself,” he mumbles loud enough for you to hear. 

You smile fondly at him. “That’s because you take care of everyone else before you take care of yourself. Now eat.”

The first bite is heavenly. And while it doesn’t make him forget that half of his heart is all the way in Japan right now, it does remind him that he’s got a piece of it here with him.

[arazialotis]

Get Him to the Con - Part 10

Pairing: Jensen × Reader

Word Count: About 6520

Story Summary: The reader stumbles into Jensen at her favorite bar, a very drunk Jensen. She soon realizes Jensen was booked for a con this weekend and has to be eight hours from town in only two.

Chapter Summary: Y/n visits Vancouver to see Jensen and, more importantly, to try to win Jared over.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Warnings: Always language. Grumpy Jared. After dinner, well, it gets NSFW 🌶️🌶️, 18+ Only

Although this is an RPF, these are fabricated characters and should not reflect back IRL. I intend no hate or ill wishes to him or his family. This is purely just for writing and wasting my time as a coping skill. Maybe some of you will enjoy it too. I apologize in advance for any mistakes or grammatical/spelling errors. I appreciate any feedback or suggestions!

----

The black Escalade wove through the Vancouver traffic, the sun beating down, melting the piles of slushy remnants from the first snow. What should have been an eagerly anticipated moment for your arrival was tense. Behind the wheel, Jensen was trying to be the bridge between you and his best friend.

“Lighten up, man. Y/n’s really excited to be out here again and wants nothing more than to hang out and cook us a nice meal.” Jensen pleaded your case.

He, in fact, suggested pizza on the risk of jetlag, but you had insisted, falling back onto the age-old idiom ‘the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.’ You already had one of their hearts, and you were convinced you could make Jared warm up to you, too, if only he saw you as who you were and not as a clingy fangirl. Yet you felt that rift growing every time you saw him. And the last thing you wanted was for Jensen to be caught in the middle.

“Would you try to like her? For me? Please.” Jensen nearly begged when Jared didn’t respond.

At least he was in the car, though Jensen didn’t give him a choice, with this outing as a pretense of drinks after work.

Jensen tried one more time, fed up with Jared’s stubbornness. “At least act nice.”

That got his attention. “Act nice? I’ll play nice if she does.” The accusation hanging heaving.

Jensen furrowed his brow. “Y/n doesn’t have a mean bone in her body.” Okay, you had a bit of a temper, were known to hold a grudge, and had a smart mouth, but Jared didn’t need to know that.

Jared scoffed. “Last time she came out, she literally laughed and criticized me for overacting.”

Jensen’s confusion grew, trying to remember the last time you came out. Then, the realization hit him as the three of you watched the latest episode together in another futile attempt for Jensen to foster peace.

Despite the animosity, Jensen couldn’t help but chuckle. “No, she laughed at a scene and apologized immediately, saying it was hard to take the show seriously now that she knows us. And I said that wasn’t it; it’s probably because you took your acting lessons from Bruce Campbell." His tongue peeked out between his teeth as he attempted and failed to control another giggle, still quite proud of the slight.

“It was a serious scene. I was acting my heart out.” Jared stressed. “You had just gotten back from hell.”

Jensen lost the smile. “In her defense, it does lose its impactfulness after the 17th time.”

“Whatever, man.” Jared pouted, looking out the window.

Jensen rolled his eyes and prayed to any god that would listen. “Would it make you feel better if we watch Devour together after dinner? Then we’ll just laugh at me.”

Jared said nothing, not taking the bait. The clicking of the blinker filled the silence as Jensen waited to turn toward the arrival gates. Jared ran his fingers through his hair as Jensen pursed his lips together, trying to think of something, anything. The light turned green.

“I don’t even know why I am here. Y/n has, like, what, two full days out here? You should be spending it together without having to worry about me third-wheeling. I’m sure there are other things that you would prefer to occupy time you don’t get over Zoom.” Jared rambled out loud.

Jensen’s eyes tightly blinked shut momentarily as he began seeking out an open spot at the curb. Jared was right, of course, only on account of his last thought, but he wouldn’t be at peace until he had the blessing of his best friend. Jensen inhaled through his nose, held his breath, and released through his mouth.

“It is important to me that you and Y/n find some common ground. If you gave her even the slightest chance, I’m positive you would start to like her.” He said calmly as he put the car into park.

“Why does it matter so much to you if I like her?” Jared pushed. To him, you were still only a rebound after Elena.

And then it hit him. Maybe Jared’s denial of his true fear of being replaced had come true.

“Because she’s my best friend and I love her!” He declared and then laughed through the shock.

It was the first time he had admitted it out loud. The silence was palpable as both men processed the weight of the words. Jensen wasn’t one to open up lightly. He felt deeply, but he was always careful with those emotions, cautious even. It had taken nearly two years before he said the same to Elena. Another before they started looking at rings. Maybe because it was one of the first serious relationships he had since the start of his career. The depth and commitment he had felt with her made the falling out that much more disastrous. He had fortified his walls to be higher and more impenetrable. Then you came out of nowhere and shattered everything he thought he knew about himself. He felt like a caged bird learning for the first time how to spread its wings, to feel the breeze on its face, and the warmth of the sun. With you, he felt free.

Jared’s eyes darted back and forth as if reading his thoughts, finding the right response. Jensen squeezed the steering wheel and nodded his head. “I love her.” He said again, the realization hitting him, fully knowing it was true. But then the terror of the statement hit him. The car door shuttered open, and the catapult of a backpack rolling over the seatbench crashing at the other end pulled Jared from his thoughts as you entered the car.

“Hiya!” You squeaked.

You pulled the door close with a thud and clicked on your seatbelt. You cleared your throat, looking up, momentarily afraid you jumped in the wrong car. But it was Jensen and Jared, alright. Jensen stared directly ahead, his face as white as if seeing a ghost. Jared scrutinized his friend. You sank back in your seat. You had thrown yourself directly into something.

Jared turned in his seat, blinking rapidly and addressing you in the most amiable tone he had ever taken with you. “Hi Y/n. Um, would you mind giving us a minute?”

Oh, you had definitely walked into something. It took you a minute to process this, but then you began fumbling with the seatbelt, “Yeah. Yeah. Of course.” And vacated the Escalade as fast as possible.

Jared’s brow furrowed, and he leaned closer to a whisper as you aimlessly knocked your fists together outside on the sidewalk. “You love her?”

He chuckled again and ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah, I really do.”

Jared knew he should be happy for Jensen, knew they should be celebrating this, offering congratulations, but all he felt was dread.

“Have you told her?” Jared asked.

“Nah, you’re the first to know.” Jensen clapped Jared on the shoulder. “I want the moment to be right, you know. I want to be able to remember it for a long time.”

Jared thought about faking it, but he had to be real with Jensen. “You don’t know her.”

That set him off. “Why are you so set against her? Why can’t you be happy for me? I do know her. I’ve known her for seven months, been dating her for 4 of those, and talk to her almost daily.” His voice went up an octave higher. “I don’t know why I have to keep justifying my choices to you, man? When will it ever be good enough for you?”

Jared didn’t take the bait. “But you don’t know her. How can you truly? You haven’t met her friends or her family, and it sounds like her mom is a real piece of work. Are you ready to deal with that?”

Outside the car, airport security approached you. Both boys could tell from your over-exaggerated gestures that you were attempting to buy them more time.

Jared continued. “And no offense, but she isn’t spotlight material.”

“Fuck you.” Jensen's blood boiled over. He was about to leave the car to find another way to get back into the city. At that moment, he never wanted to see Jared again.

“Come on. Give me a break. You know I didn’t mean it like that.” Though he kind of did. “All I’m saying is that if you truly are that committed to her, that this isn’t some fling, you should think about preparing her for the kind of attention it will warrant. The good, the bad, and the ugly. That kind of stress and attention can ruin a person.”

Jensen didn’t respond but wrung his hands on the steering wheel. There was a knock on the window.

“Please, know I’m just trying to look out for you,” Jared whispered as he began rolling down the window.

“Nobody asked you to.” Jensen snipped back before the security guard started to chew them out.

As the boys were on the receiving end of a very stern lecture, you slipped as quietly as possible into the back seat to avoid further angering or endangering yourself with security. Yes, spending a night in jail was on your bucket list, but this is not what you had in mind.

“Sorry, officer,” Jensen ended a profuse apology before hightailing it out of there.

You weren’t sure exactly what you missed, but the air hung thick with tension. Nobody spoke. There was only the hum of tires on the road. It hit you that Jensen never even acknowledged you. You fiddled with a loose stitch on the seat in front of you.

After five minutes and starting to get out of airport traffic, you couldn’t handle it anymore. “So…” You drew the word out, unsure how to break into a conversation.

Jensen blinked, realizing you had no reason to be as upset as him and that it was unfair to suffer from their drama, especially when you were not privy to it.

He cleared his throat. “I got the groceries you requested delivered.” However, he didn’t know how the three of you would sit through a dinner together.

“Oh, good! I’m starving. Airport food never really hits the spot, but the Cajun snack mix does kinda slap.” You rambled, trying for anything to get them talking.

They both hmmed in response. You were about to ask them about their favorite airport snack, but thank the gods, it was Jared who surprisingly saved you.

“What’s for dinner then?” He was trying. He had fucked up. He knew it. This was how he could try to make amends with Jensen.

You beamed, having perfectly planned it out, trying to finally win Jared over to your side. “We’ll start with a strawberry, basil, and balsamic whipped burrata and roasted bone marrow. Then, a small lemon watercress-radicchio salad for a palate cleanser before moving on to a butter-basted ribeye accompanied by potatoes au gratin and crispy brussel sprouts with mustard seeds and pomegranate.”

Jared’s stomach rumbled. Goddammit, that sounded good.

“And, I was considering a dessert, but Jensen said I already had enough going on, and because baking isn’t my strong suit, I let him handle the rest.” You explained. “You did handle the rest, didn’t you?”

Jensen's anger melted a little. With a smirk, he said, “Yeah, a tub of vanilla ice cream.”

Your heart dropped. “Stop.” There was a glint of teasing in his eyes as he looked at you through the rearview mirror, but the rest of his face remained deadpan. You couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. “Okay, I guess I could repropose what I had in mind for the burrata, and if you have sugar on hand and something salty and crunchy, we could do a quick brittle. Oooh, maybe the cajun snack mix. Or perhaps…”

“Y/n! I’m messing with you. I have an assortment ordered from Thomas Haas.” He winked at you in the mirror.

Thomas Haas meant little to you, but anything would be better than a tub of ice cream. Okay, a tub of ice cream had its time and place, but not when you were working so hard to impress Jared. Still, you eyed Jensen skeptically, unsure if it would measure up.

“Some of the best in Vancouver,” Jared assured. “I’m sure it will compliment your dinner perfectly. I can’t wait. It all sounds very delicious.”

“Hmm.” You looked between the two of them.

There were still too many questions unanswered. What were they talking about before you arrived? Could you trust either of them to select a quality dessert or would you have to resort to brittle anyways? Were you now on a no-fly list due to the tiff with the security guard? When could you get Jensen alone (this stern look painted on his face was doing things you couldn’t control)? But most importantly, why was Jared acting so nice?

“I’ve had bone marrow before, but only in restaurants,” Jared continued. “I didn’t realize it could be done at home.”

“Oh yeah, it’s actually super simple if you can find a good butcher.” You explained.

Jensen interjected. “Don’t let her fool you. She’s been binging The Bear, and now her only goal is to become an Iron Chef.”

You smirked, impressed he even knew what an Iron Chef was. Aside from eating food, anything kitchen-related was the furthest on his interest list. You were rubbing off on him.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “It’s the easiest cheat code appetizer if you want to impress someone. You toast some bread, toss the marrow in the oven for twenty minutes, and add a few accouterments to a serving board. And bam, done.”

Jared laughed, actually laughed. “I’m sure you are underselling yourself. From what Jensen has told me, you are an excellent cook. I can’t wait to see it all come together.”

Jensen glared at Jared out of the side of his eye, the anger resurfacing. He was laying it on thick. Too thick.

You squinted, eyes darting back and forth between them. This wasn’t going to plan. You were supposed to cook the food and then become BFFs with Jared. This was happening too quickly. But perhaps you should take it for what it was. Maybe you had stuck around long enough for him to finally accept you. Or Jensen had talked you up enough. Whatever the reason, you had to stop ruminating on it. All you had to do was get through dinner. Perhaps after, you could corner Jensen into an explanation.

It wasn’t long until you pulled into the parking garage adjoined to the condos. Jensen popped the trunk, surprised to find it empty.

“Where’s your luggage?” He asked, oblivious as his conversation with Jared required most of his mental capacity.

You held up your backpack as a response, and his brow furrowed with confusion.

“What’s wrong? Are you ill?” He pestered, placing the back of his hand against your forehead.

“Shut up.” You snipped and then explained. “I’m practicing becoming a lighter packer.” You lowered your voice to a whisper. “Besides, I recall not needing much clothing last visit.”

Jensen raised his eyebrows, reminiscing, and then nuzzled his nose into your neck in anticipation of this weekend. Jared, having overheard, rolled his eyes and fought a gag. You laughed as Jensen pulled away, his eyelashes tickling your cheeks. And Jared plastered on his fake smile yet again.

“Let’s get upstairs,” He said. “I’m starving.”

-----

Dinner was coming along nicely. You were basting the last of the steaks in butter, and the boys were watching the end of a game in the living room. The thoroughly cleaned plates on the coffee table were the only lingering evidence that there had been appetizers. You snuck a bit here and there, but it was mostly to keep the two of them from sniffing around the kitchen.

With a final splash of liquid, the steak was done—perfect caramelization and crust. Now, the potatoes. You checked the timer—ten minutes, enough time for the steak to rest. And the Brussels? Shit. You scooped the last of them out of the oil in the nick of time. You generously salted them and would add the pomegranate molasses after plating. Satisfied with how it was all wrapping up, you whipped Jensen’s once pristinely white dish towel over your shoulder. There was a shuffling behind you as you began cleaning what you could.

“Need any help?” Jensen asked.

You were about to shoo him out when you heard the scrape of a knife. You snapped your head around to catch him red-handed. He stared at you like a deer in the headlights, the end of one steak pinched between his fingers and the knife hovering millimeters above. You scowled, and Jensen slowly set the knife down, held his hands in surrender, and backed up.

Your scowl melted into a smile. “A couple of minutes longer. If you’d like to help, you can set the table.”

He straightened. “Yes, chef.”

You playfully stuck out your tongue and whipped the dish towel in his direction, earning an exaggerated yelp.

Finally, after a few minutes passed, you brought the final plate to the table and scooched in. Jensen didn’t hesitate and dove in.

With a full mouth, he mumbled, “If this tastes as good as it…” Then it hit him, and his eyes rolled back in pure delight. “Oh god.”

Jared went in a little slower, cutting his steak and bringing it past his lips. He took several testing bites and paused, glaring at you. He was actually glaring at you. Dropping the act, he’d kept up all night, pissed at how good it tasted. He knew what tonight had been about. About you trying to butter him up, quite literally with butter braised steak. And god dammit. It was a good steak. And he was mad about it.

“Fuck.” Jared cursed aloud, snapping your and Jensen’s attention to him. “Fuck, that’s good.”

You smiled sheepishly, looking down at your plate. “I can’t say I’ve had that reaction before. Not quite as orgasmic as I was hoping for, maybe if I adjusted the…” Your face went pale, realizing the last part was out loud.

Jensen snorted, and Jared even cracked a smirk.

“So, um,” You attempted a recovery. “How was work this week?”

A few minutes of silence passed as Jensen gave Jared a chance to answer. When he didn't and caught him glaring again, Jensen kicked his shin under the table, prompting him further.

Jared grunted. “Well, hours weren't as shitty as usual.”

“Cause Collins hasn't been around.” Jensen teasingly interjected.

Jared chuckled. “Yeah, not as many retakes. Finally, it feels like we're making some progress this season.”

You nodded. The three of you looked back and forth, trying to gauge whether it was appropriate to continue the conversation or return to eating.

“What about you?” Jared coughed before going in for another bite.

“Same old.” You simply stated.

Silverware scraped against plates. A clock ticked in the living room. The sounds of the city rose from the streets. You dabbed the corner of your mouth with the black cloth napkin, then considered it. You’d be willing to bet good money this was the first time Jensen ever pulled them out.

Jensen tried again to spark the conversation again. “Should we talk Vegas?”

Your eyes lit up excitedly, ready to discuss a plan and details.

“So, about that,” Jared started. Jensen didn’t hide his scowl, but Jared's eyes widened, challenging him. “It’s not often we get that kind of time off work, and I’m going to meet Gen in Austin.”

Ah, so dinner wasn’t the wondrous miracle you hoped it would be. You cursed yourself for not trying a Wellington. Jensen reached under the table to graze your thigh, trying to communicate that this had nothing to do with you.

“Why doesn’t she join us?” Jensen shrewdly offered.

Jared’s lips formed a thin line before countering. “Actually, we are going to use the time to do some house hunting.” He hesitated for a minute. “We’ve started talking about, um, the next steps in starting our family.”

Kids? Oh god, Jensen was going to be an uncle. He was already an uncle to Harper’s clan, but this was Jared. All the tension momentarily evaporated as you both offered your excitement and congratulations.

“Yeah, our current setup isn’t going to cut it. We need more space, a yard.” Jared explained. “Y/n, are you interested in kids?”

Jensen choked on the last piece of steak, recovering with a swig of wine. The temporary peace was broken yet again.

“Oh, um.” You stammered, trying to think of a response. Every couple (that was serious, that is) had to come across this question. You just didn’t picture you were there yet with Jensen. And you didn’t picture the conversation would come about this way. “Well, I’ve recently only managed to keep a house plant alive, so maybe the next step is like a cat or something before moving onto a…” You gulped. “A child.”

“Hmm. So you haven’t given it much thought?” He clarified.

“I mean,” Heat was rising to your cheeks. “It might not be my first choice, looking after a little drooling, monstrous carbon copy. Don’t get me wrong, I love being Aunt Y/n to my niece but one of my own. It’s a lot of responsibility and sacrifice and time and money… I don’t know. There’s a lot of benefits, too, I’m sure. You and Gen will be fantastic parents!”

“Interesting.” Jared ignored your last comment. “Wasn’t it in Colorado that you said you’d have Jensen’s babies? Or maybe that’s changed after you got to know him more.” He chuckled a bit, trying to conceal it as a joke.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Jensen attempted to shut this down.

“No, I never actually said that.” You talked over him and defended yourself. “Casey, a fan, although more than well-meaning, took several liberties that day. A decision that big should require careful consideration rather than something silly like initial attraction or blind devotion, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Absolutely,” he responded sincerely. “Such as your partner’s thoughts on the issue. Gen and I knew immediately that growing our family was an intention for our relationship. Jensen, you’ve always wanted kids, haven’t you?”

If looks could kill, Jared would currently be en route to the nearest morgue. But then he caught a glance at your wide, curious eyes awaiting an answer. There’s no way he would lie about this. Yet, this was the first time the subject of the long-term future had been broached. He swallowed the lump in his throat with another dose of wine, then threw his napkin on his plate.

“I have always seen my future with one or two kiddos running around.” He spoke softly and slowly. “But if my partner wasn’t on board, there’s no way I’d force that upon them. The two of us would always come first.”

Jared raised his eyebrows and nodded, staying silent as he finished his last bite.

You filled the silence instead, unable to handle the pause in conversation. “Similarly, I would never want to deny my future partner if that was something that was really important to them.”

Jensen closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. This wasn’t a relationship-ending kind of conversation. You did share common ground. And it was each other.

“That seems like a lot of sacrifice.” Jared circled back to the earlier point.

“But what is love?” You asked back.

Jensen whined a high-pitched melody under his breath, “Baby, don’t hurt me,” so over this conversation.

But Jared and you were beyond dialed in.

“You want to define that here, tonight?” Jared pushed. “Scholars, philosophers, religions; they’ve been trying to do that since the dawn of humanity.”

“Many of which have brought it back to sacrifice.”

“And many of which have used that ideal to perpetuate cycles of horrendous abuse.”

You pushed your plate aside, needing the space to talk with your hands. “I’m not denying that. But if you are talking on an individual level about two people in love outside of an institution, there are many components, but sacrifice is usually one of them.”

“So you’re arguing you shouldn’t be happy for the sake of the other person?”

“I’m arguing,” You strained. “Both people in the relationship sacrifice for each other, and not only are they happy to do so, but it is a privilege. You lift each other up and balance the other, and there is a net gain rather than elevating one over the other, becoming nothing more than a mere doormat. Trust me, I’ve been around enough narcissists to understand that never ends well.”

“So that’s your conclusion: love is sacrifice?” Jared asked.

Was he trying to trap you? “Like I said, it’s a component. But at the end of the day, I’d say love is a choice. There’s those initial feelings of lust and excitement and newness that will eventually fade away. And you’ll get on each other’s nerves, and there’ll be tears and fighting, and hell, we all get old, and gravity always wins. There’ll be moments where you have to choose. In fact, there’ll probably be moments where you choose not to. At the end of the day, I’d like to end up with someone who is my best friend above all else because you’ll have that to fall back on when it's hard to love.”

Jared didn’t say it contradictory but as a compliment to your point. “Friendship is its own kind of love.” He looked to Jensen apologetically.

“Very true.” You agreed. “What do you think, Jensen?”

Jensen sighed and shook his head. He stood up to start clearing the table. “It’s a mystery. Sometimes love is just love.”

You began stacking the dishes, bringing them to the kitchen as well. “It defies explanation, logic even.” You added.

Jared grabbed the bottle of wine, refilled glasses, and brought the fresh pour to you. “And definition. It’s the ultimate expression of humanity, isn’t it? To wrestle with complex concepts.”

You chuckled, taking a sip. “I guess that’s based on how you define humanity.”

Jared leaned against the counter. “Well…”

Jensen snapped up from putting plates in the dishwasher. “How about a movie?”

Jared lost his train of thought. “I have kind of been in the mood for The Matrix.”

You beamed. Perhaps this disaster of a night wasn’t ruined after all. It would be the perfect opportunity to bring up simulation theory with Jared. From what Jensen told you, Jared loved debating and theorizing over abstract topics. It would be the perfect foot in. Maybe you could impress him after all.

Jensen caught the mischievous look in your eye. He shook his head. “Don’t…”

But you beat him to it. “That sounds perfect!”

---

Later that night, hours after discussing perceived reality, you hovered over the kitchen sink, scrubbing down the remaining mess. Jared was long gone but thanked you for a pleasant evening. Jensen came up behind you, stripped down to his undershirt and briefs. He pulled your waist to his, wrapping his grasp around your hips, and nuzzled closer.

“Come to bed.” He whispered into your neck.

You half-moaned, leaning into his touch. “I just have a few more.”

“That’s what the dishwasher is for.” He said.

You paused and stiffened. “And ruin the finish on this cast iron? You monster.” Jensen gave a light chuckle before closing his eyes against your skin as you continued. “How do you think tonight went?”

He sighed, chewing it over.

“I know.” You agreed. “I should have done the Wellington.” That earned you a pinch to the side. You yelped. “Not when I’m washing the knives!”

“Honestly,” Jensen started. “I don’t know what to think.”

You took a deep gulp and turned off the faucet before turning to face him. You searched his eyes and ran your pruned thumb against his cheek.

“I don’t want to come between you two.” You strained.

He took your hand and his and glided your knuckles across his lips.

“You’re not.” He whispered.

Your glare pierced him.

Jensen continued. “He’s coming around, albeit slowly.” He added as your gaze held, “I promise.”

Your breath released, and the tension left your body, too tired to challenge him further.

“Come on, off to bed.” He instructed.

But you turned around and yawned, “Only a few more.”

Suddenly, you were swooped up and being carried away from the kitchen. “The rest can wait.”

You hit the mattress, immediately sinking into the plush duvet and feathered pillows. Jensen followed, his warmth and weight wrapping around you. The day's weight full of travel, cooking, cleaning, debating, and worrying all hit you instantly. You closed your eyes, darkness quickly closing in. Yet you couldn’t ignore the lips peppering slow, soft kisses at the edge of your navel.

“Mmmm. Jensen, I’m tired.” You moaned over the response your body had to his touch. His fingers danced along the hem of your shirt, trailing higher. Between kisses, he breathed. “You won’t have to do a thing.”

You popped an eye open and raised an eyebrow, looking down at him through the darkness. The city lights illuminated his features. There was a feral glow in his eyes, waiting for that sweet, sweet permission he longed to hear.

“Are you proposing to use me?” You questioned, rubbing your thighs tighter, seeking pressure to alleviate the quickly growing need.

And he knew it, too. A smirk that would impress even the devil crossed his lips. “That depends,” He brought his hand from your ribs, prying your thighs apart, and you whined in response. “Would you like to be used?”

You nodded even though you could barely keep your eyes open, “Very much.”

He made quick work of your clothing, your lazy attempts to help only impeding the process. The cold air of the condo brushed over your skin, providing temporary alertness as your hair rose and you shivered in response. His hands roamed over you, chasing away the chill, replacing the sharpness with tenderness.

Even as you wrestled sleep from taking you, eyes fluttering close, you could feel his eyes on you. From day one, he made it his mission to study you; taking note of every sharp inhale, every squirm, every crease of the brow. He had been a quick and eager student. His hand gently encouraged your legs apart, his hand roving over your core, parting your very soul as he found his mark. Satisfied, his eyes closed, and his head rested against your chest as he let instinct take over.

Dancing on the edge of sleep yet pulled to the waking world by pleasure, your brain couldn’t comprehend thoughts. The worries of the day, the countless insecurities, the what-ifs, they all melted from your mind. The only thing you knew was touch. It was the only constant. The concept of time faded, and at some point unbeknownst to you, fingers had been replaced with lips.

Incoherent words praised his practiced tongue as thoughts attempted and failed to form meaning. Your hand wound through his hair, gripping to hold him in place as you rocked your hips forward. His arms hooked under your legs, lifting you higher, spreading you farther as he lost his need for air. His only purpose in consuming you.

“Jensen.” You mewled his name as a curse. “Please. God, please.”

Teeth scraped against soft flesh, sending you soaring off that endless cliff. You cried out, a slew of fractured speech. Jensen idly continued as you floated back down to reality. Only as breath returned, hungry for air, did he stop, attempting to catch some himself.

“Turn over,” He instructed through the shallow pants. “On your knees.”

You whined, rubbing your face with your palm. “You said I wouldn’t have to do anything.”

He nipped at your inner thigh. “Brat.”

You lazily smiled until he grabbed your sides and flipped you over himself. That woke you up, but only momentarily as he shuffled behind you, allowing you a minute to bury your head deeper into the pillow.

“Oh, I don’t think so, sweetheart.”

An arm snaked under your diaphragm, and you lost your breath as he pulled you up to a kneel, pinning you against his bare, hard flesh. His hands roamed your curves, already mapped in his mind, desperate to bring to fruition what he had imaged during the month apart. A hand came to your throat, gently squeezing, as he tilted it to the side.

“Color?” He cooed into your ear.

You only moaned, too tired for words, grinding your hips back into him, hoping it would prompt this process further along.

“Use your words.” He softly demanded.

“Green.” You placed a hand over his, encouraging him to squeeze harder. “So fucking green.”

He buried his mouth into the crook of your neck, claiming you, possessing you, undoing you. But two could play this game. With your free hand, you reached behind you, immediately claiming your prize. You stroked up and down his length, stopping at the apex and rolling your grasp.

“Fuck.” He indulged temporarily before taking your hand, guiding it to the top of the headboard.

Your other hand followed suit as he gripped your hips. You arched your back and swayed side to side, inviting him in or, at the very least, enticing him to hurry.

“Patience has never been your strong suit.” He playfully scolded.

As he knocked your knee with his own, spreading you apart further and lower, he bent down, planting long, deliberate kisses on the small of your back. Your eyes fluttered close yet again, your mind at war with your body, demanding sleep. He neared your entrance, testing at first, then surged forward, completely filling you. You cried out, sparks turning to flame as he flooded you. Over and over, he built pace, seeking his own high.

It was unlike anything you had ever known. Nothing existed outside of this claiming rhythm, outside of this mounting heat, outside of this ecstasy. Your mind was blank. Your mind was numb. He was the only thing you had ever known—the only thing you were created for.

His hand gripped your shoulder, arching you deeper, pulling you more flush against his hardness, hitting the deepest parts of you. Your curses and praise garbled together, moans became mute, and blinding pressure rose, threatening to break.

“Come on, Y/n,” Jensen said through ragged pants. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

“Jensen.” You cried, tears spilling over. “I can’t, I’m so tired.”

His grip left your shoulder and joined yours on the headboard, intertwining his fingers with yours as he drove into you over and over and over.

“Yes, you can.” He encouraged. “Tell me where.”

He adjusted, giving you time to assess the effectiveness.

And then, suddenly, “Ah, right there. Fuck, don’t fucking stop.” You squeezed your eyes shut.

He did as he was told, gritting his teeth together, fingers digging into your flesh as he held on. He waited and waited until he felt you close in around him, constricting, demanding he fall off that cliff with you into the deep pool of bright light. Your hands slid from the headboard as you collapsed back onto the mattress. Jensen fell with you, his weight trapping you.

It could have been minutes. It could have been hours. But eventually, you found your way to the surface again, taking a deep, shuttering breath. Jensen rolled off you onto his back. He stared up at the ceiling, breathing in and out, in and out. Sweat outlined his sculpted frame as he ran a hand through his tousled hair. When his heart finally settled, his eyes found yours, and he pulled you close.

You were no longer aware if you were sleeping or awake, but still, you said. “I think it is safe to say we can move ‘exhausted sex’ from the maybe category to any fucking time or day.”

He laughed and kissed your forehead. “Thank you.”

You groaned. “Oh please, let’s not start that again.”

“Fair.” He agreed and thought of something else to say. “You’ve ruined me.”

“I’ve ruined you?” You corrected. “Sir. You’ve gone and rendered the entirety of the male species inconsequential.”

“Okay,” He challenged, rubbing his eyes. “You can’t be that tired if you can spin that heap of bullcrap.”

You burrowed into the crook of his arm and closed your eyes before mumbling, “It's not bullcrap. You’ve ruined me too.”

His eyes darted back and forth in the darkness, contemplating everything you had said about love and god, even children. He looked back at you. Your breath had slowed and evened out. And he knew his epiphany remained true. His love for you was beyond his initial attraction, curiosity, or, frankly, his blue balls. He’d give it all up if you asked, find some office job, become a cat dad. And then it hit him why, and he chuckled, saving that thought for another day because now sleep was threatening him too, and he might not be thinking rationally.

He kissed your hair and whispered, testing it out loud. “I love you.” A cold, electric shiver ran throughout his being.

He froze as you stirred. “Hmm?”

He chuckled. “What would you think about going public?”

You shot up, fully conscious. Fully alert. Your brow furrowed, trying to comprehend.

“Aren’t we already public? You did ask me out at a convention?”

He also sat up, rubbing his hands through his hair to stir further energy.

“Well, kind of. People know I’m dating, but only a select few know who.” He explained trying to assess your emotions at the same time. “We’ve done a pretty good job keeping a wrap on your identity.”

“Probably ‘cause your ballcap and sunglasses are such a convincing disguise, Clark Kent.” You teased.

“Smartass,” he grumbled. “Probably more likely because I have a good manager and an even better team right now who locked down and scrubbed your social media.” He waited for you and added, “If you don’t want to…”

“No, that’s not it.” You stopped him. “I… Can I think it over?”

“Of course. Take all the time you need; there’s no rush.” He assured.

“I’ll have to talk to some people beforehand. Friends, coworkers, family.” You gritted your teeth. “My mom, she… Well, she might make things difficult.”

“Hey, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up so late. We can sleep on it and talk to the team tomorrow. They’ll answer any questions you have and maybe provide some guidance on the hard things.” He bent down to look into your eyes. “Okay?”

You nodded in response.

“Let’s get some rest, yeah?” He encouraged again and pulled you down against him.

But how the fuck were you supposed to sleep now? Your whole world could change overnight. And you weren’t sure you were ready for it.

---

TAGS:

Everything Jackles: @akshi8278

GHTTC: @maggiegirl17 @foxyjwls007 @djs8891 @deans-spinster-witch @tmb510 @ghostofjoharvelle @ellen-reincarnated1967 @deansgirl79 @chriszgirl92

(Always feel free to ask to be added or removed (I won't be offended))

[frownyalfred]

20 Questions for Writers

I was tagged by @lurkinglurkerwholurks

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 146! It would be a larger number if I hadn't deleted all of my Supernatural fics back in the day. There were at least 30 of those, maybe more...

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

913,163 - I'm hoping to hit a million soon!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Batman, Superman, Justice League, Star Wars, Marvel

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Take Care of Business Everybody Wants You It Was Always You a sky of honey Anything Like Me

5. Do you respond to comments?

Not anymore :/ I have a really hard time keeping up with writing if I'm responding to comments. I hope my readers understand.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hmm. Probably lonely town? Dick is getting de-fibbed in the alley by Bruce, and it's not clear if he's going to survive or not.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

here as I am is hilarious if you're into jealous!Clark. otherwise the weight (salmon ladder fic) always gets me.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Yep. Mostly on borderline, but on other fics too. I love how, as I've gotten better at writing, it's changed from "wow this sucks, your writing is awful" to "you suck because you chose to have [character] do this." Luckily I think most of the hate filters over here to Tumblr, where I can happily block and forget. These days, I mostly get people commenting about how I'm wrong about something. Wrong about something I researched and triple checked before posting...

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yep! All of them, I think? At least, I haven't balked at much yet. I'm not really into the excrement related ones, so I think that would be one of my no-go's.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Yep! bloodletting (Mandalorian/Star Wars and DC Crossover) and a few Marvel/DC crossovers.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yep, a few times. What I'm more pissed about is all of my textposts being monetized over on TikTok and IG. I could be making bank off of those, considering the reach. And several of them are basically mini-fics.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! Tons. Check them out here. There's also some podfics and related works there.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not really. I've made attempts but I'm really bad at it. I tend to write spur of the moment and follow my gut on where the conversation/action goes. Planning out a fic with a partner would do them a disservice, I think.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

I really love Superbat, but Codywan is right up there with it. Something about Cody being a loyal BAMF soldier and long-suffering big brother gets me.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

My vampire AU. Not because I don't want to continue but I cannot decipher my notes as to what should happen next.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I'm very quick, I can type up a full draft in a few hours. I like natural, snappy dialogue and I think I'm good at it. I don't shy away from weird or uncomfortable situations. I'm comfortable with writing a lot of sex/etc.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I write too quickly, sometimes I get ahead of my plot. My dialogue and descriptions can sometimes be a little too bare, or I overcorrect and become too flowery. My fics take on the tone of whatever I'm thinking about at that time.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

If you're confident in your language abilities, go for it. If you're just plugging it into google translate, consider why you're doing that first. Is the addition of this new language actually something someone would say in that moment? Or are we just using it to signal to the audience that they speak another language? Is there a way to show this without telling? That being said, I love using Mando'a in my Star Wars fic, and I've studied it for a while now to be able to do so.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Supernatural

20. Favourite fic you've written?

Probably borderline or a sky of honey. Both took a ton out of me and I'm proud they're whole and standing on their own right now.

---

I'll tag anyone who wants to play! Go wild.

[incognit0slut]

Right Kind of Wrong (3)

She never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation. She also never thought she’d encounter her one-night-stand again—the awkward stranger who isn’t exactly that good in bed… Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong. But the more he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, the more he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: she gets involved in a murder case she least expected as a familiar face greets her. wc: 3,7k

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, blood, graphic details of murder

A/n: this part is kind of slow but it’s very important for the plot

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

Y/N WAS GOING TO QUIT. She was sure of it. Her mind was constantly trying to plan how she would execute the idea without making a scene because she considered slamming her resignation letter on Jamison's desk, dramatically claiming him as a disgusting, chauvinistic bitter old man who only got laid because his wife took pity on him.

She was walking back to her desk after bearing another one of his, "I don't think you can do the job, L/n. Let the men go out to the field and cover the story."

She was also a journalist, for god's sake. And a good one at that. What made that old man think she wasn't as capable as any other male peers around her? Was she too much of a woman to go out on the field and cover stories that were judged as too dangerous for her?

She let out a scoff. The Jamison Lynch worried about her safety? That sounded even more absurd.

"He did it again, didn't he?" Y/n found Sandy, the closest friend she had in this male-dominated agency, peering over her cubicle. She was from the finance department and would often come to entertain her whenever she needed an ear to cry out her frustration. "What is it this time?"

She cleared her throat and made an attempt of lowering her voice into a deeper pitch. "L/n, I don't think you understand how dangerous it is for you to be out there. Let the men do the job."

Sandy laughed. "That's actually a good impression. What work was he talking about?"

"Kevin Marshall's case." Y/n sat back in her chair and frowned. "The ironic thing is, I was the one who found out about this case. I told him about doing a story of it before he snitched this opportunity and gave it to Eric."

"So Eric's covering the story now?"

"Yeah." She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "They're still talking about it in his office."

Sandy blew a low whistle. "That sucks."

She felt beyond frustrated. It seemed so unfair how she always got the bad end of the stick just because she wasn't born with a penis. She told Sandy exactly that which she cackled in return.

"On a serious note," Sandy muttered after her fits of laughter died down and leaned closer. "What happened to Mr. Marshall was terrible."

"You didn't hear this from me, but the police found him stabbed to death and..." she looked around their surroundings, motioning her friend to inch closer. "...there was some writing carved on his body."

Sandy's eyes went wide. "No way."

She nodded. "A friend of a friend of a friend of mine heard it from the forensic team."

"What were the words?"

"Well, if I were to be the one assigned to this case, we would've found out." She shook her head and let out another frustrated cry. "I'm going to quit this job."

"You said that last month," Sandy reminded her. "And the month before that, also, the month before that. Oh, did I mention you also said that several months ago—"

She held out her hand. "Alright, I got it." She glanced over the closed door at the end of the hallway, her mind drifting towards the two men discussing her supposedly case behind it. "I really mean it this time."

"Sure," Sandy absentmindedly agreed. "Wait, didn't you know Mr. Marshall?"

"Not really. I only met him once for work." She winced as her thought traveled to the time she encountered the man who was brutally murdered two days ago. "Let's just say he wasn’t exactly the greatest person to interview."

"No kidding."

She dismissed the topic by waving her hand. "It happened a long time ago, let's not bring that up. I'd feel terrible bad-mouthing him after what happened." She then let out a sigh. "It would be quite a story to cover though."

"Yeah, well, screw Jamison for taking it away for you." Sandy's eyes suddenly gleamed as they narrowed towards the automatic door at the corner of the room. "At least your boyfriend is here."

Y/n spotted the young man walking their way and laughed. "He's not my boyfriend."

"I don't think he got the memo," Sandy whispered before straightening herself, giving the man a huge grin as he stopped at her desk. "Hey, Oliver."

"Hi, Sandy." He greeted slowly. "How are you?"

"Better now that I've seen your pretty face."

Oliver Walsh was indeed an absolutely stunning man. He was tall and lean with broad shoulders and a very defined face. He was a little mysterious and reserved, but underneath that veneer was someone who was kind and caring.

He might not be the most outgoing person, but he had a genuine sweetness that made him attractive and likable. He also happened to have the hugest crush on Y/n the moment he first stepped foot inside this building.

Oliver gave Sandy a smile. "You look beautiful yourself."

Sandy rolled her eyes playfully. "We know I'm not the one you should be sweeping off her feet." She then gave Y/n a pointed look. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"What? You're going home already?"

"Got a hot date tonight!" Sandy overly shared before sauntering out of their sight. Y/n shook her head at her friend's antics before glancing up to see Oliver staring at her with the same look he had been giving her ever since the moment he had introduced himself.

His clear affection didn't go unnoticed. It somehow managed to be a public assumption that he was head over heels for her, something that was often discussed between their peers. As much as she wanted to reciprocate his feelings because she understood how difficult it was to be on the other side of unrequited love, she merely saw him as a guy she often worked with.

"Can I help you, Oliver?" She asked, already weary of the grin plastered on his face.

"No, I just wanted to see how you were doing."

Her face fell at his words. "How I'm doing?"

"I heard Jamison snatched a very important job from you."

"Wow," she gasped, not understanding how he knew this information already. But then again, people had the tendency to share things they overheard. "News really does travel fast around here."

"There's no such thing as secrets in this place. But seriously, how are you holding up?"

She simply shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. Angry? Frustrated? Like I want to strangle Jamison myself?"

"Y/n, there's no such thing as a bad bone in your body."

"What? You don't think I'm capable of hurting him?"

"Nope. You're the sweetest person I know."

She snorted. "That's because you keep seeing me through rose-tinted glass."

"Maybe." Oliver crossed his arms and leaned his hips over her desk. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

She shook her head. He raised his brows. "Really? You can't think of anything?" She shook her head again. "Perhaps something to appease your frustration? Chocolate? You do love chocolate."

"I do, but I don't think anything sweet can even calm me down."

"Then how about a drink? Coffee? Beer? You and me? Together? Tonight?"

She let out a disbelief laugh as she stood up, making an attempt to gather her things. "Don't be so sly, Oliver."

He merely gave her a bashful smile. "Can't blame a guy for trying."

"It's never going to work between us." She paused dramatically. "Do you want to know why?"

He slowly nodded, eying her with earnest interest.

"Because you see, Oliver," she drawled as she closed the distance between them. She peered up at him through her lashes and threw him a grin. "I never mix business with pleasure."

She gave him a playful wink before turning around, leaving him dumbfounded and speechless as he stood there where she had left him. He let out an amused laugh before calling out, "I'm going to make you change your mind!”

She lifted her hand and waved at him without looking back. "Goodnight, Walsh."

His laughter was the last thing she heard before she turned around the corner, heading towards the parking area.

Turning him down was the right thing to do. She was not in the right place to be emotionally involved with other people right now. After going through so many heartbreaks and disappointments in the past, she couldn't take any more of the dating scene. It was just a bunch of awkward interactions and unmet expectations while feeling worn down by the whole process. She couldn't even remember the last time she was involved with a man.

A sudden mock laughter rang at the back of her head. You were involved with a complete stranger two nights ago!

Romantically, she corrected. She couldn't remember the last time she was involved with a man romantically.

Oh, great. Now she was fighting with herself upon what had happened that night. That... overwhelming and embarrassing night which she did not want to speak of. Overwhelming because of how much she wanted to see him again, embarrassing because she knew he did not feel the same.

She groaned as her mind somehow drifted to memory, her mind reminiscing that intoxicating feeling of his tongue inside her mouth for the first time. Or that moment before he settled above her, sinking between her legs as the tip of his hard, throbbing length squeezed into her warm entrance—

No! Don't even go there!

She stopped her pace and stood by the entryway of the parking lot, trying to calm her erratic heartbeat. She needed a moment to breathe. Between her frustration toward her boss, the constant interest from her fellow colleague, and the rush of sexual heat at that core memory, her head was starting to spin.

It wasn't until a sudden weight shoved her from the back that she woke from her trance. She jolted forward from the impact before her bag fell onto the ground, the remnants of her things spilling out, and scattered along her feet. "What the hell?"

She looked up to see the back side of a man moving forward in a hurry, not even sparing her a glance.

"Hey!" She shouted, clearly annoyed by the fact an unidentified man wearing a dark hoodie covering his face didn't have the decency to apologize. When he turned around the corner and escaped her line of vision, she realized she wasn't going to get the apology she desired.

She picked up her belongings while muttering curses under her breath. Her phone which lay a few inches away from her feet suddenly vibrated, the loud sound of an incoming call echoing throughout the open space of the lot. She peered over towards the screen and groaned.

She shoved the phone inside her bag and went on her way as she spotted her car. "Now's not the time, Jamison," she mumbled to herself, already irritated by how the night had turned out.

Her phone went silent again. It wasn't until she was a few feet away from her car that it began its chime a second time. The sound felt heavy in her ears and she finally got to her car, leaned against it, and reluctantly dug into her bag to retrieve the device.

She clutched onto it with disdain because Jamison was known to be persistent while also being inconsiderate and thoughtless. If she ignored him he would find another way to get under her skin. She slumped against the cool material of her car and slowly took a deep, aggravating breath before receiving the call. "Yes, Jamison—"

There was heavy breathing at the end of the line. A static sound greeted her before a loud crash echoed in the background. She looked over her phone screen before pressing it back against her ear. "Jamison?"

"...help..."

His croaked voice shot shivers down her spine. She straightened herself as panic washed over her body. Her boss was known for being very loud as he loved being the center of attention. But his voice sounded so quiet now. It didn't have that hint of self-centered confidence he liked to portray. It even sounded as if he were... in pain?

"Jamison?" She gulped and without thinking of her actions, her feet somehow moved on their own, navigating her back to where she had left. "Jamison, what's wrong? Are you hurt? Can you hear me?"

"...Y/n..." Crash. Cough. Gasp. "...help—"

The line went dead.

Y/n wasn't exactly a fit person. Her only form of physical activity would be the number of stairs she climbed up and down in her apartment building. But her feet were moving very fast on its own right now. She didn't care how running in a pair of flats wasn't the best idea, the mortification of something awful happening to someone asking for her assistance was gnawing into her consciousness.

The moment she was on her office floor, she took notice of how nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. The place was exactly how she had left minus all the people hanging by their respective desks. Because it was very, very quiet and the silence felt oddly eerie to her. Half of the lights were off and her steps halted for a moment as she entered her cubicle space, suddenly self-aware of the possibility of how something dangerous might occur.

Then she heard a scream. A deep, dreadful scream followed by a train of curses came from what she assumed was Jamison's office. Her feet moved again and her frightened demeanor was replaced by concern as she increased her pace, turning to the hallway towards his office.

Her movement faltered when she realized she wasn't alone. A very frightened-looking Eric Adler stood by Jamison's door before he turned around at the sound of her footsteps.

"Eric?"

His voice was etched with panic and horror as he rushed forward and held her by the arms. "No, Y/n."

"...what?" Her eyes shot behind him, noticing Jamison's door jarred open. She tried to escape his grip. "You don't understand. He called me—"

"No. Please. You don't want to see him in there—"

"Let go of me! He called—"

"Y/n." His grip tightened. "He's—he's... gone."

She looked up to see her coworker, the same man who simply stood in silence this evening as he took the job she had wanted. The confused look in his eyes from the sudden responsibility he had to take on that particular moment was now replaced by terror; a look of sheer horror, one which conveyed utter fear and panic. It was a look of complete devastation and utter helplessness, a look that made his soul seem to have been just sucked out of his body. It was the kind of look that conveyed the deepest despair one could possibly feel.

He's gone.

Gone could mean a lot of things. It could mean disappearance. It could mean an emotional state of feeling disconnected from the world. But this gone... she understood what it meant. She understood the weight of the word the moment her eyes spotted the surge of blood coming from Jamison's office.

There was so much blood that she should've felt disgusted by the amount of it, but her mind was too busy trying to convince herself that it was real. It wasn't until her eyes spotted a hand sprawled lifelessly across the floor that her stomach started to churn. The stone rings circling around the fingers were the exact rings she often saw on her boss.

The realization on her face had Eric pulling her away. But before he could drag her, she saw a glimpse of the lifeless body, and what she caught had her completely stunned. More than feeling mortified by the scene, a sense of bewilderment settled in. The disbelief of such a coincidence happening etched her mind as she peered over the body one last time.

Because something was carved along his arm.

There was a lot of waiting. Feeling impatient was one of the most frustrating things to ever exist, it made her feel anxious and restless about the lack of progress after Eric had called the authorities. He had guided her to the front area of the receptionist, given her a blanket he had found somewhere in the office—which she wasn't sure who it even belonged to—and given her a cup of warm tea as he made some calls.

She sat there, watching her coworker pace back and forth along the marble floor. She could tell Eric's mind was secretly all over the place with his disheveled hair and dark circles underneath his eyes, but somehow he managed to keep his calm.

He was steady, still a little fazed with the whole ordeal, but managed to keep checking up on her every five minutes. He even had the time to apologize for taking her job before she merely shook it off. It wasn't his decision to snatch away the opportunity. Though it felt inappropriate to point fingers at the person who actually did decide on the matter when he was lying in the other room covered in his own blood.

She shuddered again. There were so many questions running through her mind. What kind of person would do a terrible, gruesome thing to another human being? It was always the same question she had whenever she encountered such devastating news. She once read in an article that there were roughly 300,000 people who were killed by murder each year worldwide, and to think that one of them happened to somebody she knew felt so surreal.

The authorities finally came an hour later followed by a group of people wearing protective suits. The waiting for their arrival was very long, but everything happened so fast the moment they introduced themselves. A detective in an oversized suit talked to her and Eric separately, asking what happened prior to finding the body.

She suddenly felt nauseous as she recalled Jamison's phone call, how pained and desperate his voice sounded. It wasn't until she heard herself say it out loud that she realized the possibility of the killer being in the same room on that phone call. Or even in the same room as her as she entered the vicinity of their office.

"Ms. L/n?" Y/n looked up to see the detective watching her with worry. "Are you alright?"

No, she wasn't. But she merely nodded and gave him a smile. "I will be."

He returned the smile with a genuine one of his own and glanced at his watch. "You should get some sleep, Ms. L/n. If you have any more information please don't hesitate to contact us."

Then he left her standing there alone, watching people bustling around her with different equipment. She could hear the faint sound of the ambulance from the distance, smell the intoxicating scent of chemicals coming from the medics, and sense her fatigue creeping along her body as her eyes noted the time showed on the massive clock plastered on the wall.

"Ms. L/n?"

Y/n turned to see a man standing close, his dark eyes watching her cautiously. There was a sense of confidence in his posture that she couldn't help but notice. "Yes?"

"Mr. Adler told me where to find you." She frowned at the mention of Eric before her confusion deepened at the badge presented in front of her. "I'm SSA Derek Morgan from the FBI."

"FBI?"

"Yes," he confirmed, shoving his badge back into his pocket. "I'd like to ask you a few questions regarding this past event."

She crossed her arms. "I don't think my boss being brutally killed should be called an event." She steadied her gaze on him. "And I've already talked to the detective."

"My apologies, and I'm terribly sorry for your loss." He gave her an apologetic smile. "Although I would appreciate it if you can spare a few minutes of your time."

She observed him, watching him hesitantly before letting out a heavy sigh. "I guess so."

"Is there anywhere private we can talk?"

His attempt at keeping their conversation confidential from all the people swarming by had her quirking an eyebrow. She nodded and guided him toward the closest space that could provide them some privacy. "Sure... We can use the conference room down here."

"Thank you. My partner will also be present with us if you don't mind."

She looked him up and down. "There's two of you?"

"There's two of us," Agent Morgan confirmed, slightly smiling at the condescending tone of her voice. "Dr. Reid will shortly join us."

The silence after that statement was very, very palpable. The sudden stillness was one that typically left her feeling completely baffled, a state of total shock and disbelief over a familiar name unexpectedly mentioned. The uncertainty of her ability to hear left her frozen in her tracks, waiting for her brain to catch up with the sudden information. "Doctor... Reid?"

"Dr. Spencer Reid. He was talking to Mr. Adler a while ago—wait, there he is." Agent Morgan's voice grew louder as his eyes focused on the man behind them. "Reid! Over here!"

He surely couldn't be...?

She shook her head. The world wasn't that small, was it? Even though she was very bad at remembering names, how could she forget the exact same one she wrongly called as a result of her pettiness? And besides, there must be a lot of people possessing the same name, surely it was a different person.

Though the deafening lack of sound was jarring as if every other sound had been sucked out of the room. It almost felt like everything was frozen in time as her eyes settled on the man standing a few feet away from her. Because there he was, the same man who awkwardly flirted with her two days ago.

The same man who grabbed her by the waist the moment she looked up at him with need. The same man who leaned in closer, the tension charged with anticipation and desire before it lead to an explosion of passion that couldn't be quelled.

But the desperate longing in his eyes from that night was changed into mortification, and when she thought her night couldn’t go more terrible than it already was, it had gotten even worse.

>> NEXT PART

[fleckficgirl]

Heartthrob | Arthur Fleck x reader 💗 CHAPTER 12

Summary: Attempting to conceal her checkered past, a young dancer in Gotham (Y/N) lands a job at Ha-Ha’s and finds herself increasingly drawn to a shy, lonely clown named Arthur Fleck.

Warnings: sex, age gap, language, violence, mental illness, assault

Word Count: 2093

Chapter List: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11

Arthur's Note (see what I did there?): Thanks every so so much for the kind words and encouragement. I didn't realize the new trailer was coming out today but I started writing this fic again about a week ago and I think I'm on a roll! I <3 Arthur Fleck so much and hope you enjoy!

Arthur had insisted on walking you home, had kissed you again at the front door of your apartment building and promised to call you the next morning; you both had the next day off and planned to see each other.

When he pressed his body into you. You could feel he was hard, but restraining himself. Arthur was nothing if not a gentleman. It only made you love him more.

“I'll call you in the morning,” he hummed into your ear.

“First thing in the morning,” you corrected him with a sly grin.

Arthur smiled, blushing. “First thing in the morning.”

You hated to pull yourself away from him. It was crazy: You'd never cared that much about sex, but for the first time in your life, you understood what it felt like to want to ask someone upstairs, what it felt like to actually want someone to spend the night in your bed. But of course, you had your parents to think about and they'd never go for it in a million years.

Arthur watched you get into the elevator. When the doors closed, you felt like you might cry. Reminding yourself you were gonna see him again in twelve hours was the only thing that put your longing heart at ease.

***

It was almost midnight, and your parents usually went to bed around ten, so you were surprised to find them both sitting up on the sofa in the living room, watching what had to be the last half hour of The Murray Franklin Show. They never watched Murray. They never even stayed up this late.

“What’s going on?” you asked as you locked the front door and hung your coat up.

“We’ve been worried sick!” your mother cried as your dad muted the television.

Oh boy. This was already off to a great start.

“Why?” you asked, cocking your head to one side. “I mean, I know it’s almost midnight, but-”

“There’s been another killing on the subways,” she continued. “They think it’s related to what happened to those three Wayne boys a few days ago.”

“You’re kidding,” you sat down on the sofa to face them. “Who’d they kill?”

“A man,” your father answered. “But they don’t know anything else yet. You were out all night and didn’t hear anything about this?”

You shook your head. “No. But it’s getting crazier out there.”

“What exactly did you do tonight?” your father raised an eyebrow.

“Met up with friends,” you answered breezily. Technically you weren’t lying. Arthur was a friend. Sort of.

“That’s interesting,” he continued, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “Because those so-called girlfriends of yours called here looking for you. Two different times in fact.”

“They did?”

You gulped, trying to scan your mother's face for some kind of hint to help you navigate the choppy waters of your father’s suspicions. But her “worried sick” face had morphed into her “I’m just gonna stay out of it and keep the peace” face.

Typically a bad sign.

“First Tina and then that other girl…” your father said. “The one with the silly name…”

He looked to your mother who shrugged in response.

“Chantelle,” he finally remembered. And Chantelle said she was calling to find out how your ‘hot date’ went tonight.”

Damn that Chantelle. You knew she had a champagne-and-dial addiction - it was why she was still hooking up with at least five of her ex-boyfriends - but you could still murder her ten times with a hatchet. She had no idea how crazy your dad was.

“I told your father it must have been some kind of practical joke,” your mother finally interjected. “You know, those telephone pranks kids these days like to play on one another?”

You could see she was trying to help you out. And for one crazy second, you considered telling them the truth:

Mom, Dad…I’m in love with a beautiful clown.

No, that wouldn’t go over well at all. They’d hit the roof. In fact, they'd go through the roof.

The less you said about Arthur the better. At least for the time being.

“I did go out with friends,” you explained in as even a tone as you could muster. “I don’t know what Chantelle’s talking about.”

“Which friends?” your mother asked.

“Just some friends��from…from…” you struggled to complete the sentence. You never went anywhere besides work these days, so where the hell would you meet any other friends?

“Some friends from GU?” your mother asked hopefully.

It was perfect. You could have kissed her right then and there. Saved by the mama.

“Yes!” you nodded. “Yes, some friends from college.”

“Honey, that's wonderful!” your mother smiled.

Your father nodded approvingly. “Those are the kinds of people you should be spending time with. People who are serious about their future…as opposed to a couple of strippers.”

“They’re not strippers, Dad!”

He smiled at his own dumb joke and you pursed your lips. Your father never approved of anyone if he didn’t deem them “serious about their future.” The problem was, most of the kids you’d met at Gotham University were entitled assholes from rich families who didn’t actually care about their futures: no matter how badly they fucked up, their privileged parents could afford to yank them out of hot water and they knew it. Your dad had it all wrong. But you didn’t have the heart to correct him.

“How come you look so disheveled?” your father’s voice broke into your thoughts once more.

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

He pointed at your rumpled clothes.

“Your outfit’s wrinkled, your hair’s a mess. And your makeup…”

“Did something happen tonight, honey?” your mother asked. You could sense the growing concern in both their voices, and it brought you right back to when you’d started having problems at GU. Your poor parents had to watch as their star student daughter - who’d never given them a lick of trouble - suddenly turned into someone they didn’t recognize. Someone they were afraid of.

“Sweetheart,” your mother prodded gently. “You didn’t happen to get into a…a fight or an altercation with anyone tonight, did you?”

You shook your head and laughed, trying your best to put them at ease. “Not that I can remember.”

It was a true enough answer. More true than they needed to know, anyway.

“You can tell us if you’re…struggling,” your father added. “We want to know if something’s going on.”

You shook your head again. “What happened was, the subway was totally jam packed. Maybe it had to do with the killing tonight, I dunno. Anyway, we were stuffed like sardines. I got all pushed around on the train. You know how the people in this city can be.”

“Fucking animals,” he muttered under his breath. You glanced up at the TV where a still-muted Murray seemed to be delivering his closing words. “You’re alright though, aren’t you?”

“Of course,” you assured them both. “Nothing a shower and some shampoo can’t fix.”

You breathed a concealed sigh of relief as you watched your parents breathe one of their own.

You popped up from the sofa and stretched.

“Gonna get ready for bed,” you announced. “See you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, sweetie,” your mom called out. “We love you.”

“Love you, too.”

You turned to go to your room and heard your dad unmute the TV, Murray Franklin’s voice ringing out over the orchestra as an organ struck up the groovy chords from his signature closing song:

“Goodnight, and always remember: That’s life!”

You laughed softly to yourself. “That’s life!” you whispered as you dance-glided down the hall and into your bedroom, shutting the door behind you.

Life really was something, wasn’t it? Especially life in Gotham, a life like yours: one that now had a beautiful man named Arthur Fleck in it.

After the crazy night you’d had, the shower felt like a balm to your soul. You crawled under the cool covers of your bed, still giddy from your date with Arthur and the promise of seeing him tomorrow. As you drifted off to dreamland, you thought about even though your parents drove you up the wall, you loved them and would do anything for them. You hated the toll your problems at GU had had on them - how scared and defenseless they’d been, not knowing how to help you when the shit hit the fan. They didn’t have the resources and privileges of your ex-classmates’ parents, but they’d stood behind you when no one else had. You’d never forget that.

After the nightmare at Gotham U - after everything it’d put you and the people you loved through - you’d vowed to yourself that you’d never be powerless again.

Although you felt powerless to stop the freight train of emotions you felt for Arthur, you decided he was a worthy exception. Arthur also knew what powerlessness felt like. He wasn't like the rest of them. He was the salt of the earth, just like your parents. Just like you.

And as long as you and Arthur had each other’s backs, you told yourself as sleep enveloped your being, nothing could ever take either of your power away again.

Together, you were unstoppable.

***

The phone rang first thing in the morning, just as Arthur promised. Thank GOD your bedroom had its own phone line.

“Hey you!” you answered playfully on the first ring.

“There you are. We’ve been calling you, bitch!”

“Chantelle?” you paused, your breath hitching.

“And Tina’s here,” Chantelle said. “We’re at Ha-Ha’s. You didn’t call either of us back last night so we decided to ambush you first thing in the morning.”

“Oh yeah,” you shook your head. “And by the way, thanks a lot for telling my dad about my ‘hot date’ last night. He was real happy to confront me about that when I got home.”

“So you did come home last night!” Chantelle gasped.

“I told you a million times!” Tina’s annoyed voice rang out in the background. “She wasn’t gonna have sex with him on the first date.”

“So how was it?” Chantelle asked. “Tell us everything!”

“It was…great,” you answered. “He’s…wonderful.”

Chantelle squealed. “Y/N’s going out with a college boy!” She sang.

“Let’s not blow this out of proportion,” Tina countered. “College boys are a dime a dozen. And most of ‘em wouldn’t know how to please a woman even if they majored in it. Gimme the phone, Chantelle.”

You heard the receiver scuffle on their end and Tina’s no-nonsense voice rang in your ear.

“How was the outfit, hair and makeup?” she demanded. “Any mishaps?”

You paused. It would take too long to explain the whole blacking out thing to them, you reasoned. And you didn’t want them to worry.

“Everything went fine,” you said. “You guys did a great job. I can’t thank you enough.”

“I have some very exciting ideas for the next date outfit,” Tina said. “When are you getting here? I’ll fill you in. We’ll try on some samples.”

“I’m off today!” you sang into the phone. “And I’m actually seeing him again this afternoon.”

“What? You slut!”

Chantelle grabbed the phone back. “You’re seeing him again? So soon? Oh my goodness, Y/N, I feel like you’re gonna marry this guy.”

You heard Tina groan in disgust behind Chantelle before snatching the phone back again.

“Then my outfit ideas will have to wait for your third date,” Tina said. “Assuming there is one. What were you planning on wearing today?”

“I dunno,” you glanced around your messy room helplessly. “I haven’t even thought about it.”

“Okay, listen to me, Y/N. You’re an autumn. That means warm skin tones. Understand?”

“Warm skin tones,” you repeated back, even though you had no idea what the hell she was talking about.

“I’m talking greens, I’m talking yellows…come to think of it: do you have anything in peach?”

You shook your head. “I don’t think so.”

“Black is fine. Accessorize with those gold hoop earrings. A full face of makeup just like we showed you. But go easy on the blusher, for the love of God.”

“Thanks, Tina.” You laughed.

“Shit. Hoyt’s coming,” Tina warned. “Call us immediately after today’s date ends. We need a detailed play by play so we can mastermind the plan for date number three.”

“I thought you said these college boys were a dime a dozen,” you countered.

“Mastermind your outfit for date number three,” Tina corrected herself. “If you’re gonna date a college douche, the least you can walk away with is a killer wardrobe.”

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[wooyoong]

🧸 freya's recent bts reads (& recs)

disclaimer : there's atleast one fic for each member, but i am yet to widen my spectrum, so you will find less vmin + jin fics. that also doesn't mean i don't like reading them, lol.

note : fic titles labelled with a * mark are series. minors please stay away, strictly. almost all fics here are 18+ !!

— also, i am @sugarwithtea 😭 incase you wanted to check out my writing blog then.

KIM SEOKJIN

* 9 months to fall in love by @floralseokjin (s2l, accidental pregnancy au, 18+)

It seems like everyone around you is either already in love, or in the process of falling, and while normally you couldn’t give a damn, finding out the co-worker you’ve had a teensy crush on is dating someone else at the office seems to sucker punch you right in the gut. It’s stupid, and you’re irritated at yourself, but you can’t seem to shake out of the funk you’ve fallen face first in.

Feeling lonely and heartsore, and mad for no reason, during drinks with your best friend you spot a man at the bar. Tequila confident, you make your way over to the stranger, and successfully one thing leads to another. The next morning you leave before he’s woken up, feeling satisfied in one way, but still as discontented as ever. Telling yourself it was an inebriated mistake, you quickly try to forget about it.

Only, three weeks later that night comes back to haunt you – in a very unescapable way…

* For Love & Money by @jimlingss (s2l, forced marriage au)

For love, you foolishly lied to yourself. For money, you married a stranger.

MIN YOONGI

* Till Death Do Us Part by @colormepurplex2 (e2l, arranged marriage au, mafia au, 18+)

Marital bliss isn't always a guarantee, especially when you find yourself marrying into the family responsible for your own family's demise. Sometimes, marriage is just a game of kill or be killed. Even when there is love involved, bullets still hurt.

Sinful Lust by @oddinary4bts (ft. jungkook, threesome au, 18+)

in an attempt to spice up your bedroom life with your boyfriend Min Yoongi, you suggest bringing another man into the action. Yoongi seems reluctant at first, but when you mention his friend Jeon Jungkook, he can’t deny his attraction. All that’s left to do is to convince Jungkook into participating...

* The Truth Between Us by @jimlingss and @gukyi (e2l, multiple aus, 18+)

a book deal should be the most exciting time of your life, but there seems to be a constant and omnipresent damper on your mood in the form of a certain min yoongi, who you would just cut out from your life, if he weren’t your editor. but then, the world shifts beneath your feet, and you begin to wonder if maybe you’ve always been looking at life from the wrong angle.

* Playing With Fire by @/chanyeolly (ao3) (e2l, idol au, 18+)

Yoongi hates you. Or at least, he thinks he does.

AKA

Y/N works for BigHit and Yoongi is bad at dealing with his feelings.

JUNG HOSEOK

Brevity (But Most Often Not) by @threeletterslife (ft. jimin, s2?, psychopath hoseok)

All your life, you've been with guys who didn't bother to read the news or appreciate the art form of journalism. But Hoseok... Even the way he carefully chooses his words is a sign that you and he are a match. If only he weren't in a dilapidating psychiatric hospital. Then maybe you'd have a proper boyfriend who treated you right for once.

* Arranged by @obiwrites (ao3) (arranged marriage au, 18+)

If you thought entering an arranged marriage with the person you love would be a dream, you were in for a rude awakening. Jung Hoseok was far from the doting husband you’d dreamed of and most of it could be chalked up to the fact that he was in love with his best friend. And you are without a shadow of a doubt, not her.

But what happens when Hoseok starts to realize he doesn’t want you to be her? That there might be more than meets the eye with you?

Fake Love by @aquaminwrites (e2l, fake dating au, 18+)

Every year, your family spends the holidays at your parents’ cottage in the country. Freshly single and not wanting to be picked apart by your family for being alone, you decide to recruit one of your friends to pretend to be your boyfriend. The only available volunteer? Your brother Namjoon’s roommate, Hoseok. Only problem? He absolutely hates your guts.

* Jungle Park by @jimlingss (coworker au, amnesia au)

The equation is simple. Hoseok needs to hire someone. You need a job. Except like any actual equation, it’s not fucking simple at all! Not when you have to add the fact that he was forced to hire someone he doesn’t want in his office, he has little respect for your job in general, and oh yeah...once upon a time you might have—*CENSORED*.

KIM NAMJOON

Not Another Holiday Romance by @kpopfanfictrash (s2l, one night stand au, holiday au, 18+)

You, a perpetually alone (and utterly cynical) movie director, are sent to the town of Snow Falls, Middle-of-Nowhere for your latest film assignment. Stuck in holiday hell until the new year, you’re determined to get in and get out with minimal damage to your Grinch reputation. That is, until a ridiculously gorgeous (and young?!) town historian is assigned to help with your film. Suddenly, you find yourself the heroine of one of those corny romances you direct – and are discovering they might not be so corny after all.

* My Feet to Follow, and My Heart to Hold by @daechwitatamic (r2l, college au, 18+)

You know a lot about the many types of love thanks to Kim Taehyung. You love him as the only person you see as “family”, you love him as your very best friend, and you love him as the beautiful, funny man he’s become. But when a twist of fate during your senior year has you rooming with his good friend Kim Namjoon, you just might find that you have plenty left to learn about love. 

The Wedding Arrangement by @/sugalights (ao3) / @sugaurora (s2e2l, fwb au, 18+)

You are in love with your best friend, the only man who matters, Kim Seokjin.

Unfortunately, he's just gotten engaged to someone who isn’t you. Even more unfortunately, he expects you to help plan the wedding alongside Kim Namjoon, his other best friend and, based on your first meeting, just another judgemental jerk.

Putting aside your distaste for the sake of your friend’s happiness, you both set about giving Seokjin the wedding of his dreams. Following a rough and satisfying affair at the caterer’s, you strike an unusual deal: you and Namjoon will be enemies with benefits until the wedding is over. And after six months of wedding planning, you both just might learn that weddings aren’t usually the end, but a brand new beginning.

PARK JIMIN

* Maybe Me by @jiminrings (single dad au, s2l)

summary: maybe it’s stupid of jimin to take on everything at once, all by himself. maybe it’s rash of him to book a long-term stay at a luxury hotel, even if it comes with a family discount. but maybe, just maybe, jimin would have nothing to lose and everything to gain if he lets you in.

KIM TAEHYUNG

Always the Bridesmaid by @kookingtae (e2l, holiday au, 18+)

When you first meet Kim Taehyung, you’re determined to find every reason you can to hate him—or maybe he’s just looking for ways to get on your last nerve. But when a turn of events has the two of you working the wedding of the man you’re hopelessly in love with, you’re too late to realize the real reason to hate Kim Taehyung is because of the latest column he’s secretly writing: “Always the Bridesmaid, Never the Bride”, and it’s all about you.

JEON JUNGKOOK

* Take A Chance by @crystaljins (hanahaki au, coworker au)

You should have known the second your business partner asked you to plan his best friend’s wedding as a favour that it was going to be nothing but trouble. Especially when it turns out he’s in love with said best friend. And dying of a deadly disease because of it.

on the road (to you) by @cupofteaguk (f2l, road trip au)

as a young adult, one of the strangest revelations is the discovery that peers of yours from past fragile college years are getting married. so imagine your shock and excitement upon receiving a wedding invitation. there are, however, two problems: (1) you are a poor early-20s recently employed adult just beginning to adjust to your 401k plan, and (2) the only available ride to the wedding comes in the form of Jeon Jungkook—friend of a friend, attendee to that aforementioned wedding, and your old college crush. 

Sinful Lust by @oddinary4bts (ft. yoongi, threesome au, 18+)

in an attempt to spice up your bedroom life with your boyfriend Min Yoongi, you suggest bringing another man into the action. Yoongi seems reluctant at first, but when you mention his friend Jeon Jungkook, he can’t deny his attraction. All that’s left to do is to convince Jungkook into participating...

Accidental Roommates by @jjkeverlast (r2l, single dad au, 18+)

moving apartments is stressful and difficult enough as it is. all the planning and packing and multiple moments of rearranging furniture; all you crave is peace.

yet it seemed like peace was far within reach as the owner of the apartment had left out one tiny crucial detail from the ad — a ripped tattooed adonis, coupled, with a tiny baby daughter will come as your roommate.

Rivers Over Stones by @ichorai (e2l, godparents au, 18+)

you hated jungkook the minute you laid eyes on him. the only reason why he was still in your life was because you both shared a goddaughter, hana. but everything changed unexpectedly when the two of you become her caretakers and you’re forced to live under the same roof. suddenly, you find yourself hating him just a bit less. or more, but who’s keeping track?

* Ego by @suga-kookiemonster (s2l, fwb au, 18+)

what’s a girl to do when her sweet, innocent baby lab partner isn’t quite so sweet and innocent? well, he’s a grown-ass man, and you’re about to learn that the hard way.

🧸 given that a lot of authors are not active, please don't misuse their content! all rights reserved by the respective authors!!

— a bit of these have not been completed by me, leading to no feedback yet but i know these are good haha!

[monkberrymoonsdelight]

A Monkberry Moon Delight lyrical analysis because it is the greatest song of the 20th century

Monkberry Moon Delight is a song from Paul McCartney's 1971 album Ram. The song is generally considered to be surrealist 'nonsense' lyrics a la Lennon's late Beatles work like 'I am the Walrus' and 'Glass Onion'. But if we know anything about Paul (and Lennon-McCartney in general), he tends to put deeper emotions into his songs, often with out meaning to and without his direct knowledge:

"I don't write anything consciously, Sometime when I'm pissed off with John over Apple business a line might creep in." - Interview with Disc And Music Echo (Nov. 20, 1971)

"Songwriting is like psychiatry; you sit down and dredge up something that's inside, bring it out front." - Interview with Robert Palmer for the New York Times (April 25, 1982)

" But in a song, that's where you can [share your innermost thoughts]. That's the place to put them. You can start to reveal truths and feelings." - Interview with John Wilson fork BBC 4's (May 24, 2016)

And my favorite because it's y'know...in a song: "And when I'm gone, I leave my message in my song" - Beware My Love (Wings at the Speed of Sound, 1976)

All that being said, in my opinion, Monkberry Moon Delight is a projection of Paul's feelings of anxiety about his post-Beatles public/critical reception and his reaction to John Lennon's antagonism post-divorce. Specifically, he details his writing of Too Many People as a response to John's antagonism and the making of Ram as an attempt to recapture public attention/praise.

For context: Monkberry Moon Delight was first written/demoed at some point from May-August 1970 on his farm in Scotland. Paul's late 1969-1970 Scotland era is complicated. He often describes it as being one of the most difficult periods of his life because of the break-up of the Bealtes, the Apple financial troubles, his frayed relationship with John, and starting a whole new life which all compounded into a deep depression and alcohol abuse.

Let's start with the title and chorus. In Paul's own words, Monkberry Moon Delight comes from his kids mispronunciation of the word 'milk' and establishes MMD as a fantastical drink like 'Love Potion No. 9'. I think Paul obviously hides behind the surrealism of the lyric but its association with family and domesticity makes an interesting contrast. Though he is happy to be in his escapist domestic fantasy in Scotland, he juxtaposes this with the underlying pressure to be acclaimed (especially after being considered the greatest artist in the world for ten years). Though the song has a peppy, jaunty beat there is an air of anxiety developed through the songs key of C minor and the staccato of the piano and bass parts. His vocals also have a similar strained desperation like 'Oh! Darling'.

The lyrics:

So I sat in the attic, a piano up my nose

And the wind played a dreadful cantata

Paul starts with himself, writing. 'The attic' may be a reference to John Lennon's recording studio that he had built in his attic in Weybridge where he and Paul would often go to write.

"We nearly always went up to his little music room that he'd built at the top of the house, Daddy's Room, where we would get away from it all. I like to get away from people to songwrite, I don't like to do it in front of people. It's like sex for me" - Many Years from Now. Whether or not this is a direct reference to 'Daddy's Room', Paul is known to prefer small, confined spaces for songwriting.

'Piano up my nose' to me shows a rapt attention, leaning so close to his piano its almost up his nose. He is intently and passionately composing his 'dreadful cantata', this cantata I believe refers to "To Many People". Based on this record of the order of demos on the Ram cassette, it seems that Too Many People may have been written (or at least recorded) before Monkberry, which furthers my belief that Paul is making a meta narration of the writing of his song which he recognizes was very pointed or dreadful.

Sore was I from a crack of an enemy's hose

And the horrible sound of tomato

Here he describes what spurred him to writing this song, and this album as a whole. The 'crack from an enemy's hose' could refer to Allen Klein's treatment of Paul during the final months of the Beatles and his attempted mishandling of the release of McCartney (1970). (Note: The crack could also be from Phil Spector, the press, Ringo, George, Yoko or John; Paul is kind of getting shit from all sides right now). The 'sound of tomato' implies the idea of throwing tomatoes at an artist to express dislike or dissatisfaction, referencing the poor critical reception of McCartney (1970).

Ketchup, soup and puree

Don't get left behind

Ketchup, soup, and puree; liquidy tomatoes because splat, splat, splat go the critics. And ketchup because catch up pun.

Don't get left behind is the central theme of this song. He is worried that the public is going to forget about him while he's depressed, away in Scotland, and making critical flops. This is him desperately clinging onto the hearts of the public. Because we all know how much Paul needs to be liked.

When a rattle of rats had awoken

The sinews, the nerves, and the veins

The 'rattle of rats' could be any of the number of people who were getting on his nerves, sinews, and veins (pissing him tf off) in 1970. This could again be referencing the great "Let's all gang up on Paul McCartney" game of 1970 but because of the subsequent lyrics, I think this may be more specifically about John (and Yoko). Either way, it was these rats who annoyed him into getting to work.

My piano was boldly outspoken

And attempts to repeat his refrain

'Boldly outspoken' again connects this song to TMP. The line is similar to the TMP lyric 'This is crazy and baby, it's not like me' in the sense that both show how audacious he sees this songs as. In 'attempting to repeat his refrain' I think Paul is using the 'well he started it' justification for TMP because he's sees it as a repeat, of him rising to John's level of insults.

So I stood with a knot in my stomach and I gazed at that terrible sight

Of two youngsters concealed in a barrel, sucking Monkberry Moon Delight

Ah yes my favorite moment in all of music ever. This is the verse that really convinced me that this song may be referencing JohnandYoko. The 'youngsters in a barrel' alludes to John and Yoko's bag piece, where they would get into a black bag for...peace? As seen in Get Back, this particularly irked/disturbed Paul. "Go get in your bag. The Merseybeat award for couple of the year, goes to John and Yoko" (Get Back Episode 2). He also refers to them as 'the young lovers' in Get Back during the infamous January 13th 'and then there were two' conversation. Even though it makes him nervous and sick, part of Paul releasing TMP and Ram is to face up to the JohnandYoko powerhouse which was a non-insignificant portion of his early 1970 criticism.

Well I know my banana is older than the rest

and my hair is a tangled baretta

Here I think he is reasoning to the listener, the public, over why he thinks they've abandoned him. Paul recognizes that he has been in this music game a long time (so people may have grown bored of him) and has been depressed (and thus out of the game), his tangled 'baretta' of hair like the wily depression beard he grew out while in Scotland.

Also banana = dick, just so everyone is clear (can anyone find that banana poem from his poetry book? Also this just perpetuates my tinhat theory that all the banana milkshakes Paul got in Paris were just **** **** but I digress). Also something about Paul likening songwriting with sex so him not being 'musically desirable' is because...his music dick is old? Ok Paul.

I leave my pajamas to Billy Budapest

And I don't get the gist of your letter

This is the one lyric I am pretty unsure about. Not that every line has to fit perfectly into my interpretation but I genuinely could not make heads or tails of it. My initial interpretation was that this was referring to Billy Shears, and how during this period the Paul is dead theory regained popularity. This reference adds to the feeling of dissolution he builds in this verse.

But mike on the Beatles Bible seems to remember Billy Budapest as being a children's pajama designer though I have found not evidence of this. However going with this shot in the dark, leaving his pajamas to Billy Budapest could draw back to the theme of his current domesticity and occupation with his children.

The letter in question I believe refers to the infamous letter John and George wrote to Paul changing his McCartney release date that they had Ringo deliver which really set Paul off and kind of began the messiness of the divorce.

Catch Up, cats and kittens

Don't get left behind

Finally we get the pay off to the ketchup-catch up pun and see the resurgence of the theme; Paul feeling like he's falling behind his contemporaries and desperation to catch up.

In typical McCartney fashion, Monkberry Moon Delight is a seemingly shallow and superfluous song but actually reveals a lot about his inner turmoil at the time. Him dealing with the rejection by the critics and John by turning to his piano and creating the absolute banger that is Monkberry. This is why MMD is one of Paul's best, because of how quintessentially Paul it is. Veiling tough emotions behind ambiguous and surreal lyrics masked by a fun and light melody. Oh, the juxtaposition! Oh, the Lennon-McCartney of it all.

Anyways this is a barely organized rambling of thoughts but Monkberry Moon Delight deserves a mega analysis because it is genuinely one of the best songs Paul McCartney has ever made.

[jennay]

I'm Fine

Request: Hello sweet bean! I'm a relatively new fan of yours and have loved everything you've written about Noah thus far. The last one I read had me thinking of a request? I was wondering what Noah would do if he found out his girlfriend was having an overwhelming day and wanted to cheer her up? Like, there was a mountain of small inconveniences that kept piling up and she was shutting down from her own anxiety

An: Thank you for calling me sweet bean. It's literally my new favorite thing to be called. I hope you enjoy! I tried!

Noah Sebastian master List

Warnings: floof anxiety?

You woke up from a nightmare that doomed your day. Fear and panic gripped your heart. Things went downhill when you found out your alarm had failed, forcing you to hurry to work; your coffee maker had malfunctioned, depriving you of your caffeine boost; and Noah had snatched the last of your favorite breakfast bars last night without letting you know.

You hoped things would improve as you finally got your car to start after several attempts. But you were mistaken.

You got to work and nearly died from a heart attack when you saw the pile of documents and the list of appointments that awaited you. You felt overwhelmed by the work your secretary assigned you as if you were a superhuman lawyer who could handle everything simultaneously.

You wished you could walk away from it all but knew that was not an option. Being a lawyer was already stressful and demanding, and dealing with this extra workload was not making it any easier.

You needed to talk with Amanda, your secretary, and see if some of these could be moved around.

You walk into her office and greet her with a smile; you don't want to be mean or upset her. "Hey," You say, sitting at the chair by her desk. "So I need a favor." You lean over and point to the screen. "Can you please call these two clients and ask if they can come in tomorrow? I have the Taylors coming in at 9 a.m., and the meeting always runs over the scheduled time. If you can start booking them out for at least two hours, that would be amazing."

She nods her head, apologizing, "I'm sorry. I know you've said that before. I'll write it down."

"That's alright, don't worry about it. I just need at least an hour between each meeting so that I can be ready and not rush things, but the Taylors are always here for a long time; they're very thorough and want to know everything that's going on.." You sighed and rubbed your temples. "I'll be in my office if you need me. Please let me know if anything comes up."

You sit at your desk, reviewing papers and bracing yourself for the chaos people will bring you today.

Sometimes, it takes a toll on you, especially when your life is not going smoothly. You glance at the clock and see you have a few minutes before your clients arrive. You decide to text Noah, who always knows how to cheer you up.

Can I come home already? I miss you and could use some aggressive snuggles right now. This day has been shit already.

You smile when he texts you back almost immediately. You know he is an early riser, but you are still impressed by how fast he replies. He must have sensed your urgency.

I'll be here when you get home, baby. You can have all the cuddles you want. I love you. You're a badass; you'll kick the shit out of the day. Ok?

You feel thankful for Noah. He is the best thing that's happened to you. He’s supportive, caring, funny, sexy, and makes you feel loved and appreciated.

On days like this, you wish you could shrink him to a smaller size, put him in your pocket, and carry him around. Whenever you needed him, he would pop out and say words of encouragement and sweet things to you. Your life would be so much easier with a pocket-sized Noah.

You put your phone in the drawer as your office door opens, and Amanda's head pokes through the gap. She is your receptionist and assistant, and she helps you manage your schedule and appointments.

"Your 9 o'clock is here," she says.

You nod your head, "Go ahead and send them in."

You take a deep breath and prepare yourself for another session. You hope Noah's words will give you the strength and patience to get through the day.

You storm into the house, slamming the door behind you. You are overwhelmed by emotions. Your hair is soaked from the rain, and your mascara runs down your cheeks. You have had the worst day ever, and all you want is Noah's warm embrace and gentle words. "Noah, are you home?" You call out, your voice cracking.

You hear him reply from the living room. "Yeah, I'm here. Did you take a cab home?"

You can't contain your feelings any longer. You let out a loud sob, toss your bags aside, and hide your face in your hands, crying hysterically.

"Oh, babe," Noah says, getting up and hurrying to you. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close to his chest, where you press your face and cry even harder.

He kisses your hair and strokes your back gently. "Shh, it's ok." He whispers. "I'm here for you."

You shake your head. "I'm over it. Can you just put me out of my misery and put a pillow over my head?"

He chuckles softly, "No, no, no. Come on. I have something for you." He holds your hand and leads you to the dining room, where you see a beautiful bouquet of roses in a vase on the table. He has also ordered Chinese food, your favorite cuisine. You notice your favorite liquor on the counter with other ingredients, indicating that Noah plans to make cocktails for you tonight.

As you gasp, your hands instinctively cover your mouth. Noah's thoughtfulness never ceases to amaze you.

You wrap your arms around his waist and snuggle your face into his chest, feeling his warmth and comfort. "Thank you," you whisper.

Noah kisses the top of your head and rubs your back gently. "Anything for you, princess." He pulls away, and you look up at him, seeing love and kindness in his eyes. "I'm sorry you had such a tough day," he says, kissing your forehead. "Go relax. I'll take care of everything." He pauses briefly, "You're getting a nice back rub tonight, too." He says, holding his hands up and wiggling his fingers.

You smile, walking back to your room and changing into the bathroom, where you wash your face to remove all the smeared makeup.

Sometimes, you wondered how Noah could look at you so lovingly when you look as rough as you did.

After changing, you return to the dining room, where Noah waits patiently. He smiles at you, happy to see you approach. He stands up and scoots out your chair. "Come sit."

You smile at the gesture, excited for the food and fruity mixed drink in front of you. "God, I love you," you say, taking a long sip of your beverage.

Noah laughs, "Me or the drink?"

You lift your eyes to his, "Both, but mostly you."

He chuckles while taking a bite of his food. "So," he says, putting his fork down, "What happened today?"

Your shoulders drop, remembering the annoyance of the day you didn't

want to talk about every little thing, from the coffee pot to your clients not being very understanding and your car breaking down. "Just casual bullshit." You sip your drink, "My car is in the parking lot at work…"

Noah groans, "Again? I thought Folio looked at it?"

"He did, but he's not a miracle worker, and I'm honestly not sure there's any hope for that thing. It's old." You say, forcing a smile. "Let's talk about you."

Noah's eyebrows knit together in frustration as he says, "You always do this." He laughs, but you can hear the edge in his voice. He leans back in his chair and looks at you pleadingly. "I want to hear about your day; in therapy, they say it's good to talk about things. It helps you process and cope with them." He reaches for your hand across the table, his eyes softening.

You shake your head, feeling affection for him. You stand up and gather the empty plates, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, my love, you're not my therapist." You lean down and kiss his cheek, feeling his stubble against your lips. "We can talk about it tomorrow if you want to. But right now I just want you as Noah. Ok?" You giggle as you walk away from him, carrying the dishes to the sink. You drop them in, deciding to deal with them later. You can feel the effects of the alcohol you had with dinner. Your face is warm, and your worries seem distant and trivial. You feel happy and relaxed as you walk back to Noah.

You stand before him, smiling with rosy cheeks and a gentle gaze. "I really do appreciate you." You say sincerely, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He grins and stands up, holding you close. He takes your hand and leads you to the living room, where he sits on the couch and pulls you down to sit before him. He gently lifts your shirt over your head and tosses it aside, handing you the throw blanket to cover your chest with, knowing you'd get cold. He places his hands on your back and starts to massage your tense muscles with gentle pressure. He draws circles on your skin with his fingers, making you sigh in contentment.

You feel a knot of tension in your chest and decide to share what's been bothering you the most today. "The Taylors said I'm a bad lawyer and won't be using me anymore." You say, finally opening up to him. "They accused me of being incompetent and unprofessional just because I refused to lie for them in court."

Noah's hands freeze for a second, and he curses under his breath. "Dicks." He says before resuming his soothing motions. "You don't need them anyway. You did the right thing, babe. You have integrity and ethics, unlike them."

You let out a deep breath, feeling a bit of relief from his words and touch. "I do, though. I've been working with them for so long, and I hate saying this because I'm not just in it for the money, but they were a huge source of my income. They paid me well, and they had a lot of connections in the industry."

Noah wraps his arms around you and pulls at you, signaling he wants you in his lap. "There'll be others, you don't need people who treat you like shit." He says softly in your ear. "You're an amazing lawyer, and you have a great reputation. You'll find better clients who appreciate you and respect you."

You smile weakly and lean your head on his chest. "That's most of my clientele." You say with a laugh. "Most of them are greedy, selfish, and dishonest. That's why I'm always so thankful to come home to you. You're the best thing that ever happened to me."

Noah kisses the top of your head and whispers, "I love you and I'm always here for you. No matter what."

You smile up at him, feeling his warm breath on your face as you nuzzle close to his neck. He wraps the blanket tighter around your bare chest, making you feel safe and loved. "I know. I feel it, and I'm grateful for it." You whisper, letting him know you appreciate his presence in your life.

He leans his head on yours, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. He kisses your hair softly, making you sigh in contentment. "We'll get everything figured out with your car and your job, and I won't eat your breakfast bars anymore." He chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.

You laugh against his neck, feeling his pulse quicken under your lips. "You can eat all the breakfast bars you want if my nights end this perfectly." You say, looking into his eyes and seeing the love and happiness reflected there.

He smiles back at you, pulling you closer for a passionate kiss.

You melt into him, forgetting about all your worries and troubles. All that matters is him and this moment.

You feel his hand caress your cheek, then move down to your waist. He lifts you gently, carrying you to the bedroom. You wrap your legs around him, holding him tight.

He whispers in your ear, "I love you so fucking much."

You smile, feeling the same way. You kiss him again, ready to show him how much you love him.

Tags: @thisbicc @yumikitten @lma1986 @chemicallady

[onestepbackwards]

Love That Bites Pt. 9

Hiiii! Welcome to part 9 of my Dracula x Reader fic! I hope you enjoy this chapter, though I apologize if it feels kinda wonky. I finally got a new pc built during writing, and a bunch of other stuff has happened. It was hard to piece it all together with so much happening in my life. I hope you all enjoy it though! Just in time for Nocturne to release :D Summary: After arriving in Dracula's castle, you can't help but feel you are in a dream, though you certainly wish it was to avoid the awkward air. Meanwhile, Dracula contemplates his next moves. After all, he's sure he's bound to be the center of the world's gossip mill when they find out he's caring for a Belmont.

CW: Anxiety, references to bad home life, injuries mentioned, blood drinking

Word Count: 4216 words! Like my work? Come check me out here: Link Likes and reblogs appreciated!

Tag List: @Onewiththebeanbag @starrlo0ver @sleepyendymion @dame-sunflowers @sapphicsfordracula @ursamajor17 @maorizon @marshmelloe Wanna be on the taglist, let me know in the comments!

First: Here Last: Here Next: Here! --

Sorting his affairs turned out to be a much more annoying endeavor than Dracula originally intended.

Despite this, he wasn’t all too surprised.

For the past few centuries, despite being the King of the Night, he has had very little presence in paranormal societies.

Every time he had been revived since this cursed cycle began, he had barely been alive long before a Belmont or some other hero would come and battle him to the death.

Even if for all intents and purposes he was the King of Vampires, he has had little or no time to rule.

He absentmindedly swirled his glass, before taking another sip.

There were two probable scenarios because of this.

Vampire covens and supernatural communities were in chaos.

Or-

They were in various communities across the globe, staking territory. He doubted any of them would be happy he was back to rule.

No one liked their own power to be threatened, after all.

Even when he was actively King, vampire covens and paranormal communities weren’t always happy to serve him. Many just did for his power, or the safety he offered.

Some felt the call of power from him and Castlevania itself. Others are uniquely tied to him and his castle. Those ones he hardly had to worry about.

No, he had a feeling his return wouldn’t be as happily accepted outside his usual circles. Most would probably only lend him an ear since he was Death’s master, and Chaos’ champion.

Did not mean they would be cooperative or happy.

He let out an agitated sigh. No doubt being killed over and over made him appear weak. Dracula suspected many would be aiming for his throat and his throne.

Nevermind the fact he was almost always slain just after being revived, before his powers ever had a chance to settle.

And he was sure many underestimated the power of the Belmonts. He may have always just woken up around each battle, but each Belmont still had power beyond belief.

“What a nuisance.” He muttered, downing more blood.

While normally he would handle this himself, he couldn’t afford to sit idly and wait for such pathetic attempts on his life and power from want-to-be rulers.

Dracula had a guest this time. He had you.

Back when his precious Lisa had still been alive, he had been alive for several centuries at that point. Almost every underling knew she was off limits, lest they desire something more painful than death itself.

Even those he knew wanted his head knew better than to go for his wife.

Lisa had been left alone by his servants and other creatures of the night. Ironic how it was the humans that took her from him.

The gall and irony humans had to call him and his own monsters after that. Bah.

The glass in his hand cracked, and he looked at it in annoyance.

Banishing it, another drink was brought to him as he continued to think.

Things were different this time. At least back then, no one dared to lay a finger on his wife. But now?

He had no doubts a target would be on both his head, and the Little Belmont’s.

Dracula was sure word was already spreading across the castle, and no doubt would soon do so to other communities nearby.

‘The Dracula? Taking in another human?’

He can already imagine the gossip.

The scowl on his face darkened.

It would only be a matter of time before word reached across the globe.

He knew you could take care of yourself, sure. You had told him several stories of hunts you had when he had been imprisoned, usually involving the death of a beast hunting innocents.

However, there was no way in hell you would survive in your current state. Whatever had happened, had intended to either permanently harm, or to kill you.

Dracula’s free hand gripped his throne tight, and he felt the arm of it splinter slightly.

How you received those injuries was a whole different issue that he would have to investigate later on. An issue he planned on thoroughly going over.

So for now, you were under his official protection while you healed.

Unless of course, you decided to go against your word. Though, Dracula heavily doubted you would do so.

You really were different then those who came before you.

This would not be easy, but when had it ever been? He was just thankful you knew how to defend yourself, and had the means to do so.

Once word got out, and you were healed, he also had suspicions you would be hunted. Either as a Belmont, Dracula’s human, or a ‘traitor’.

He may not have been privy to any sort of personal information regarding hunters and their circles, but he knew back a few centuries ago, helping out a ‘monster’ was a death sentence. It did not matter if they didn’t wish to harm humans, simply helping a beast was an act against god and humanity itself.

Hunters and the church considered such a person no better than the very beasts they hunted at that point.

Dracula doubted that sentiment was completely gone, even now in more modern times.

Reaching up, Dracula pinched the bridge of his nose in thought.

He had someone making potions for you at least. Hopefully you wouldn’t be badly injured for too long.

After that, he wondered if you would be opposed to staying here at his castle? You didn’t seem disgusted by it, nor did the castle seem to try and push you away like it did other intruders.

Those who were not welcome usually felt such pushes on their mind and body. Only the strong willed could push onwards past it.

Even his castle seemed to see you as a guest.

The castle bent to his will, sure, but it was still a being of Chaos. This small revelation also intrigued him, how such a being seemed not to mind your presence.

Perhaps it was that it also didn’t consider you a threat? It was obvious you currently had no intentions to fight him.

Dracula’s eyes narrowed, a presence pulling him out of his thoughts.

The room grew darker, and a familiar figure rose from the shadows. It flew around his throne, before giving a bow in front of him.

“Good to see you back, Master.”

Death.

Dracula looked over the divine being that had worked under him for centuries. His second in command, his devout lieutenant.

Dracula gave the being a brief nod of acknowledgment, and Death rose.

Even after all the deaths Dracula had endured, Death itself still remained loyal after all these years. He supposed he should count it as a blessing now.

“Report?” Dracula then idly asked, drinking from his glass.

“Things are running smoothly. Everyone is settling in quickly, as usual my lord.”

Dracula hummed.

“Good. Good.” He mumbled, mind still partially elsewhere.

A moment passed, and Death gripped his scythe.

“Master, if I may be so bold…”

Dracula held back a sigh, already having an inkling to what he was going to say.

“Do you think it is wise to have a hunter, let alone a Belmont residing in the castle?”

There it was. He knew his subordinates would be asking sooner or later. He wasn’t particularly surprised Death was the first to make an inquiry.

“They pose no threat. This Belmont is… different from the others. I would like to speak with them properly about our standing with one another as soon as they are recovered.”

He then looked Death in the face.

“They are not to be harmed while under my care. Do I make myself clear?”

Death studied him for a moment, probably wondering if he had a few screws loose, before nodding his head.

“As you wish, milord.”

Death was silent, and a beat passed. Dracula hoped his warning managed to sink into the other entity’s skull.

He was no stranger to the fact Death was his most avid supporter. Although Death had always followed his orders, the entity didn’t shy away from making its own decisions if he felt it was best for his master.

Staying within Dracula’s orders, but bending the rules just enough to do his own thing if he could get away with it.

Typically Dracula didn’t mind. Death was his most trusted lieutenant for a reason.

However, he couldn’t help but feel Death may try and get around this one rule if it felt it was best.

As much as he hated it, he would have to keep an eye on all his close subordinates.

Dracula tried not to focus on the growing migraine building in his head.

“Now, what of the vampire covens across the earth?”

Death gave him a subtle crooked grin, and Dracula had a sinking feeling he would need another drink before returning to see you.

—

Dracula’s castle was far more pleasant than you would like to admit.

Your brain was in and out of a fog, but even then you could appreciate just how nice the guest room and washroom alone were.

You almost felt like royalty with how classy and intricate the rooms were, and how they had convenient modern touches.

Never had you stayed somewhere so elaborate and fancy. All the hotels you have been in couldn’t even come close to compare.

Even now as you laid in the giant bed with its soft, velvet sheets, you couldn’t help but be amazed.

Kinda ironic, the home of your ‘enemy’ was way better than any place you had ever stayed at.

Besides maybe your own home before your step family took over, you supposed, though that was a long time ago.

Slowly rolling onto your back, you winced as your wounds flared and your stomach churned. You continued to admire your setting.

The bed had a beautiful silk canopy around it, and you still couldn’t help but be enamored by it.

Or by it all, really. Even if it was a bit overwhelming.

…Just how long has it been?

You had been in and out of sleep, occasionally slipping into a doze before startling awake. The time was lost to you.

In retrospect, you couldn’t help it. Your instincts were going haywire from… well, everything.

The bed and sheets were nice at least. Almost too nice.

You were used to your old sheets, or stiff bed sheets you’d find in cheap hotels.

Not soft satin sheets and pillows that were as fluffy as a cloud.

There was also the glaring fact you were in monster territory. Despite how nice the decor was, it was something on the back of your mind also keeping you up.

Yes, Dracula said you were a guest, but it was hard to lower your guard when you knew just outside the door were monsters roaming up and down the halls. That this whole castle was filled to the brim with the paranormal and monster kind.

You were also a hunter, and a notorious one from a notorious family at that.

It wasn’t hard to imagine some monsters may go ahead and take a shot at you, regardless of Dracula’s orders.

To some, it may be worth it to suffer Dracula’s wrath or ire if it meant eradicating you from existence. It wasn’t exactly a secret that a lot of the paranormal hated you.

You carefully laid on your side, and looked out the window.

A small comfort. Originally, the window had been covered by thick curtains. However, you had pulled them aside to attempt to relieve your anxiety.

The clouds were dark. You couldn’t tell if it was night or day at this point. Perhaps that was the point.

But you were so tired. Exhausted.

You really couldn’t even sleep if you wanted to, knowing Dracula, or at least a servant, would be bringing you a meal sometime soon.

The hunter in your soul didn’t wish to be taken off guard, even if it was to be fed.

A small part of you wondered if you should even eat. Your instincts whispered in your mind about poisons, warning you of incoming death.

But that was ridiculous. Imagine it, you, a hunter, dying from poison.

No, if Dracula wanted you dead, he would have killed you by now. By his own hand no less, you were sure.

Still, that didn’t stop your instincts from making things difficult.

You curled in on yourself a bit tighter, wincing when some of the stitches tugged. Reluctantly, you adjusted to keep them from stretching.

You reached over, and grabbed the nearby pillow, and hugged it close to your body for some comfort.

It smelled nice.

That was another issue. You were so sleep deprived and struggling with blood loss, your brain liked to bring up such things, no matter how much you were trying to shut them out.

Gripping the pillow tighter, you felt your face form into a sour look.

“What am I going to do…” You mumbled, closing your eyes again.

At least if you didn’t sleep, lying here would be some rest. Better than none.

Though you hated to admit how much you jumped when you heard a brief, but loud knocking against the door. Talk about acting like a cat in a room full of rocking chairs…

You sat up in bed with a wince, and you noticed that no one seemed to enter. Another knock followed the previous one. Your heart pounded in your chest.

“Uh… Come in…?” you called out, uncertain. Were they waiting to see if you were awake, or what?

The doorknob slowly turned, and you felt like the breath was punched out of you when Dracula stepped through.

Right. He had mentioned he would return.

He looked different though. Better, if you had to put a word to it. He wasn’t particularly disheveled to begin with, but now he didn’t look as… Hungry? Irritated? It was hard to figure out the words.

The Lord of the Night had also changed. Similar style, dark cloak and all, though he had on a vest with a dark red dress shirt underneath, and some sort of fancy slacks.

You imagined you probably would have wanted to change too if you had been wearing the same clothes as a stone statue for however many years.

But seeing Dracula again? You hated to admit how he practically took your breath away.

His power and presence were just as intimidating as before, and he wasn’t even angry. How did your ancestors handle him before, when he felt this powerful without seemingly intending to harm you?

Dracula looked you over briefly as he walked into the room, shutting the door behind him. Even if there were no traces of malice on his face, a shiver still ran down your spine, instincts still screaming to run or fight.

You swallowed your nerves down as he walked closer.

He stopped at the side of your bed, and once again, you had to crane your neck just to see him at his full height.

That is, until with the wave of his hand, a chair nearby in the room came scooting forward. It came to a stop behind him, and he sat down without a glance.

Internally, you hoped your awe wasn’t blatantly on your face.

When he sat, he crossed his legs, before holding a tray with some sort of bowl on it. He held it forward, and you blinked at it slowly.

“I hope you are resting well, Little Belmont. I had some servants make you some soup. I fear eating solids may upset your stomach, which would aggravate your injuries if you were to grow sick.” He spoke, his voice low and deep. Even if he wasn’t loud, his voice still seemed to vibrate in your chest.

It took his words a few moments to register, and you looked between him, and the tray. He took in your expression for a moment, before speaking once more.

“If you fear it has been tampered with, I assure you my servants-”

“Oh, no… It’s fine. Sorry, I’m…” You spoke, cutting him off, ignoring how your pulse spiked when you realized you did so.

“S-Sorry… My head is a bit foggy, is all…” You then explained, before shakily reaching for the tray.

Dracula was quick, or perhaps, your brain really was slow. He held out a hand, and quite gently might you add, set the tray down on your lap.

“Of course. You must not exert yourself, and you must eat. I do not know how long it has been since you last ate, but you need something in your stomach.”

As if hearing the conversation, your stomach loudly growled, and you felt your face flush in embarrassment. When was the last time you ate? This morning? Night before last? You couldn’t exactly remember…

It was brief, but you swore you could have seen Dracula’s lips twitch upward seeing you grow flustered. It must have been your foggy mind and imagination. Or not, he could be internally laughing at you. Who knows?

Meanwhile, Dracula knew he had been right to bring you soup. He just hoped you could hold it down.

Though he didn’t want to admit how… endearing it was seeing you grow flustered like that. For a Belmont, you were quite the adorable human.

He would never admit it of course, but hell save him if Death ever found out he had such thoughts. Dracula would never hear the end of it.

Especially considering such thoughts were about a Belmont. Someone he should be wasting no time slaying.

But he wouldn’t.

He couldn’t.

There was something so different about you, even now, as he watched you pick up the spoon and attempt to eat.

You didn’t stare at him with burning hate in your eyes, but curiosity. There was a sharp mind behind those eyes that asked questions. Someone who didn’t just jump to conclusions.

Was it so wrong he wanted to see more of that, especially in the family of his enemies, who had blindly ran and fought? Killing innocents of his kind?

He was no saint, far from it. But he knew of many others the Belmont clan had killed.

But you… You were so different. He didn’t wish to say it outloud, but he wished to push forward that way of thinking. Perhaps he could even find a middle ground with you.

You weren’t just some ‘scary hunter’. The Little Belmont in front of him showed so much more, showing the better qualities of humanity.

His face almost soured at the thought, but even he could admit every one in a million, perhaps one good human was born. You seemed to be that one in a million exception so far.

Just like Lisa had been.

He decided not to think too much on what that could mean, though he hoped it promised good things in the near future.

It was quiet for a while, and Dracula couldn’t help but study you as you ate. First and foremost, it was to watch and make sure your body could handle it.

But he had his own selfish reasons for doing so.

He could move again. React to you. Speak to you. Touch you.

However, he found it hard to speak. There were many things he wanted to talk about with you, and half of them he intended on waiting until you were a little bit healthier.

Anything he thought of before now though, was suddenly caught on his tongue as he observed.

Perhaps it would be better this way. Dracula prided himself on being charismatic and influential, but that was amongst the supernatural. This was a Belmont, and he knew things were… shaky at best.

However, as he watched you try and consume more of the soup, he found himself managing to say something.

“Are you feeling alright? Adjusting well?”

Briefly, you tensed when he spoke, before you seemed to force yourself to relax. He made a mental note of that reaction, wondering if it was because of him, or if it was a natural response.

Dracula could understand it if it was from him, given the circumstances, but even he could tell there was something off about it. He didn’t like the feeling settling in his gut over the bigger picture.

“It hurts a lot, but I’ll live.” You spoke, your voice still rough, but sounding leagues better than before. For a moment, it looked as if you wanted to say more, but held your tongue.

Interesting.

You were still for a moment, struggling to look at him. No doubt you were still having trouble thinking clearly, and struggling with everything that had happened. Have you even slept?

He had his doubts you’ve even rested. You may not look as manic like before, but you looked completely exhausted.

For a moment, he briefly thought about using his abilities to make you sleep. It was something Lisa would request on occasion if she hadn’t felt well or couldn’t settle.

However, he stomped that idea down. The last thing you needed was him using his powers like that on you, unless explicitly agreed upon. Even though you were… receptive of him taking care of you at the moment, he didn’t want to shatter that small bit of trust.

Given that he had suspicions about your home life, he imagined just the small bit of trust you had given him at all was momentous. Dracula couldn’t afford to lose that. Not now.

Though Dracula hated the odd pain in his chest as he stared at you. He was worried. Something he didn’t think he would ever feel again.

“Thank you, by the way.”

His eyes were on your face in an instant as you spoke.

“I… You didn’t have to take care of me. I do appreciate it.” You spoke, your eyes still on the bowl in your lap.

Your voice was small, and quiet. Dracula could tell though, saying that must have taken strength.

You didn’t see his eyes soften ever so slightly.

“You are welcome. As my guest, I will do my best to make sure you are taken care of.”

Internally you wanted to scream. You hated how much you liked the sound of that. When was the last time anyone cared enough to take care of you? Your mother before she had died all those years ago?

It had been way too long, and it was Dracula who was seemingly wanting to take care of you.

Damn your foggy mind.

A few moments of silence passed.

“I… Um…” You began, unsure on how to word this.

“About when you were a statue…”

You had so many questions, but didn’t know where to begin. Was it even a good idea to ask in the state you were in?

“You could hear and see everything, right?” you asked tentatively.

Dracula was silent for a moment, red eyes staring into you. It seemed he was contemplating what to say, and you tried not to get nervous as the seconds awkwardly ticked onward.

“Indeed I was. I was aware the moment you stepped foot in my castle the first time, though I was not aware it was a Belmont, not at first.”

His voice was still like velvet. No wonder vampires were such good hunters if they could talk like him.

You really needed to force yourself to sleep. Maybe if you smacked your head hard enough on the table, you could knock yourself out before you did or thought anything weirder.

Clenching your fist, you attempted to figure out what to say next.

“Um…”

Internally you cursed yourself for making this awkward. Why did you have to bring this up?

“Then… What now?” You asked, trying to find some semblance of what comes next. Just because he was taking care of you didn’t make everything all happy and cheery.

You couldn’t wash away centuries of history and bloodshed out of nowhere.

Dracula shifted, then reached over to the bedside table, and grabbed a glass of water. You looked at it confused.

When had he brought that in?

Before you could ask, he was gently holding it out to you.

“We can discuss that after you have rested. We have much to go over, but worrying about that and discussing it while you are injured won’t help your healing.”

He looked away a moment, as if contemplating what to say, before his eyes met your own once again.

“You have gained my interest and respect, enough to hear you out and discuss everything. When you are in a state to do so, of course.”

A part of you opened your mouth to speak, as if to say you could do it now, but you froze. Your eyes landed on the glass he still held out.

After a moment, you closed your mouth, and took the glass.

In that moment, you couldn’t help but feel like some sort of agreement or contract was formed, as if your fate was sealed.

As you sipped the refreshing water though, and looked over at Dracula himself, who seemed pleased you accepted the drink…

…You wondered if this would really be that bad?

Perhaps your future wouldn’t be as bleak as you thought.