#chewing his character design in my teeth

[detentiontrack]

Season 1 & 2 Sasha may have been completely fucked up and evil, but he hit the slay button every time

[luck-of-the-drawings]

OH ARTHUR BENNETT.. such a gorgeous and intriguing character. terribly burdened by a GRUESOME set of crimes, his light suffocated by a HEAVY century of GUILT. so tragic, so dark and broody, and yet PAINFULLY awkward in any social setting ever

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

i was going to crack a joke about how the only thing on my lore wishlist for the dlc was that they would finally explain why the hell marika got impaled and crucified on the elden ring. and then it occurred to me that our one canon named boss so far is an archetypical erdtree traitor-styled demigod quite literally titled the impaler

[dbphantom]

Speaking of that trans one/pie/ce oc

Did I mention he's a obvious self insert bc I definitely should have by now. Like. Literally drawn as me if I was in the world of on/e/pie/ce, spoke to Ivankov, and also 7 years older. And I love him. Just wish he had a name... That's always the hardest part ;_;

[sleep-0-deprived]

Feral nights ~! (Woverine x bottom male reader) ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

WC:. 2.7K

Tags: slight knife play(his claws) hair pulling, spit as lube, little to no prep(ass eating is the prep), cabin sex, slight A/B/O dynamics(Logan has ruts) scenting, marking, nesting, feral Logan, age gap (reader is twenty five and Logan is forty four), younger male reader, ass eating, and aftercare ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

A/N this was just a personal smutty one shot for my depraved self after seeing the Hugh Jackman wolverine movies<33

Just moving to a rundown cabin wasn’t your big dream after college to say the least, and here you were a twenty five year old man unpacking boxes from the back of your car and into the little cabin you had bought. Looking over your shoulder across the lake you see another cabin with a man standing outside. One of the main things that stuck out was his excessive body and facial hair, how his hair cut looked like two wolf ears of you squinted from afar, you heard that the cabin across from you was where the wolverine lived but you didn’t think much of it.

Looking away quickly as you scurry off into your cabin trying to not think nothing of the man while you settle into your cabin, the weeks to follow ever since the first glance of eye contact you can’t deny there is tension and what you’re reading as upset from the brooding man but was actually sexual but it’s not your fault he was a hard men to read.

Later that evening you just finished setting up your room, right as you were about to move onto the next part of the cabin to set up you see through your bedroom window Logan outside in his front yard chopping wood in his signature flannel. You stood paralyzed unable to do anything but watch how the older man’s biceps flex when he swings his axe, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows giving a peak of his arm hair making you wonder about what the rest of his body must look like.

Chewing on your bottom lip until he looks up from what he was doing making your eyes meet. You soon close your curtains and get out of view of the window all embarrassed pushing it aside and moving on to the res of your cabin as you go and start setting up more.In the weeks you’ve been in your new cabin after that incident you’ve only ran into him a handful of times in the only grocery store around the small town or when you wave at him from across the lake only returning with a grunt and a little nod before he goes back to chopping wood.

The day went normal, long day and seeming longer nights in this area. That was until you seen from the bedroom window of the cabin, your Logan walking towards yours, confused how he even made it across the lake you walk towards the front door opening it up all confused wearing a random shirt you had designated to nightwear and a pair or pajama pants with a video game character from a random game you played on them.

“Can I help you sir?…” murmuring out as you look up at Logan “I see the way you’ve been lookin at me bub” he grumbles out nearly heaving all pressed to the door frame of your cabin doorway nearly towering you over.

“What?, I didn’t know I was looking at you any sorta way sir…” You speak out almost like you were teeth to convince yourself that, while you haven’t been admittedly looking at him you couldn’t deny you always thought he was attractive, he’ll he was the face that flashed in your head when you reached your climax and you were ashamed of that fact. “Don’t lie bub, I seen how ya look at me through yer window, eyin me up N’ down like that” he speaks unconvinced with his accent peeking through the words he spoke.

“Just tell me what you’re doing here this late sir?” You don’t bother denying further just giving a sigh as you look up at Logan although you never caught his name, you never really spoke enough to ask it. “Logan, just call me that, I’m not your ‘sir’” Logan huffs as you look down at him noticing a bulge throbbing between his muscular thighs making a sticky spot of pre cum in his sweat pants, despite the cold weather he wore a tank top half opened with a flannel jacket you thought only a lumberjack would wear.

“You never answered my question Logan?” You raise a brow trying to seem firmer than you really were when you spoke. His nostrils flare a little when he sees your neck craning up to him making a audible groan leave his lips not waiting any further “always teasin me with them little f’ckin smiles and waves actin like a slut round me” he grabs you up the door behind him in your apartment slammed shut as you feel his face in your neck with his canines nibbling at your Adam’s apple “I wasn’t teasing you I was being a good neighbor—“ your voice cut off by your hand gripping and pulling at his hair making him let out what you thought were growls?

Pulling you all the way through the cabin with him eager to get you in a bed, him in the middle of rut going nearly insane from the smell of you. When he lays you down in the bed you look up at him confused why he was using all the pillows and blankets to surround you like a bird in its nest. “What are you doing?” You manage to speak out looking up at him when you start pulling your pajama pants down kicking them off past your ankles trying not to focus too much on his hairy pecs when he gets undressed “boxers off face down and ass up bub”

“Fine, fine” you muffle out as you roll over onto your stomach planting your knees in the mattress not even bothering to take off your shirt as you shove your face in the pillows wracking one hand back to pull your boxers down for him, your asscheeks exposed with your hole hidden between them making you shiver a little when you feel a rough hand pressed to your ass cheek pulling them apart showing off your pink bud as it winks at him.

Your cheeks reddening when you feel him leaning down his breath hot agaisnt your sensitive furl “don’t go shy on me now bub” he heaves out a little hurrying his face between your cheeks using his tongue eating you out like a starved man moving his jaw with his hands kneeling your ass cheeks til red making your cock press to your lower abdomen making it leak precum.

“Fuck Logan—“ you groan biting agaisnt your pillow making your eye go wide when you feel a sharp sizzle on your hips feeling his claws poking from his knuckles from how tight he gripped hold of your ass not letting you move as his tongue pushes past your rim licking and lapping your inner walls as his canines pinch at your inner asscheeks. “Mh- tastes so f’ckin good bubs”

Logan keeps pinching your asscheeks like a cat pawing at its bed with his claws barely poking from his knuckles poking your hips making shallow scratches while his tongue fucks your hole giving your inner walls a harsh lick. “Lo-gan keep doing that~” a mewl leaves your lips trying to press your thighs together failing as his head keeps them open.

“Hold still f’me” murmuring as his tongue works against you rim having your cock all hard between the bed and your stomach as you bite into the pillows arching your back and pressing your ass further into his face while your hands tug the corner of the sheets. Your hips loosely dripping blood from where his claws cut you, “can’t take it any more bubs” a rigid grunt escapes Logan as his spit runs down your thighs from the way he sloppily ate your ass.

“Fck’me logan~” you whine laying now almost as desperate as he was easing your ass as much as you can arching your back like a cat not even thinking of the pain your tender hips and asscheeks feel “I plan on it..” his hands move off your ass cheeks after delivering each one a harsh slap gripping your hips as he flips you back over on your back pulling the pillow from your mouth “ain’t you so fck’n hard bubs?”he murmurs pulling his sweatpants off revealing no boxers with his cock hard covered in brown pubic hair leaking precum from his tip as he leans down between your thighs pressing his lips on yours practically eating your face off making you feel his beard scratching at your chin.

Your cocks pressed together between both of your stomachs rubbing as he rocks his hips forward in a humping motion kissing you between grunts holding hold of your hips where his claws broke skin “ready fer me?” He huffs out moving his hand down further to your thigh while he lifts one of them up on his hip before hoisting it up on his shoulder making his cock snake between your cheeks nudging your rim teasingly but never pushing in.

“I’m- ready Logan” you nod hazily batting your lashes up at him nosing a little too eagerly hook your other leg around his hip while he slides his hand down your thigh rubbing your ankle with his other hand placed firm on your hip “fck—yer so tight bubs” a pant leaves his lip when he pushes his cock into you with it resting heavy agaisnt your prostate making you arch your back biting on your lip looking up at him “oh—hm!” A moan escaped your throat as you feel his hairy stomach pressed down on your cock while he lays on top of you bending your body in half using his hands to hoist up your other thigh for a better shot at your prostate.

“Fuuck” a long groan escapes Logan’s mouth as he grunts shoveling his face in the side of your neck using his canines to bite at it holding your ankles tightly as he starts to circle his hips fucking you into the sheets making your hand move from the bedsheets to his hair “m—more Logan” you spoke right in his ear all whiny and high pitched with your bud trying to clench tighter around him harshly as your gummy walls heat like a vice around the mutants dick, his teeth marking your skin showing his rut as he grounds his hips into you harshly “like that bub? Hm? Fck’n tell me how my dick feels” he huffs out all animalistic starting to pick his pace up making you dig your nails into his back with your legs bent over his shoulders bouncing and swaying back and forth with the force of his thrusts.

“Feels good Logan!—oh god~” you gasp beneath him your body bent in half under the older mutants weight with the bed in your cabin creaking filling the room with the sound of skin on skin as your ass cheeks get all rosy from the constant abuse his hips give them. “Tight bub, so fck’n tight” he growls right into your neck making your eyes roll back not minding the feral man on top of you as you use one hand clawing his back and the other in his hair feeling his beard in the crook of your neck while he makes out with it messily snapping his hips stretching you open over and over with his cock head assaulting your prostate surely bruising your sensitive bundle of nerves

He reaches his hand off your thighs moving around between them as he holds them around his hips and pulls up your t shirt just watching your pecs bouncing back and forth with his thrusts before he just shoves his face in them and starts sucking at your right nipple groping your left pec as he rapidly thrusts his hips “Fuck look at those tits bubs, so fuckin pretty~”. Logan heaves out rubbing his now sweaty body to yours like a wolf trying to rub its scent on its mate, You have no time to protest his choice of words feeling your thighs tremble and a loud mewl leave your lips when his cock hits your sweet spot straight on making a coil of heat radiate in your stomach straight to your cock as it pulses.

“I’m cl—ose Logan!” You choke out your eyes glossing up as you hold his hair tighter gripping hold of his back for dear life with your thighs now wrapped fully around his hips holding him deep inside yourself as you stare up at the Celine in your cabin feeling his mouth biting at your nipple his large hand groping at the other “cum, cum for me bubs” a rumble falls from his throat pulling his cock fully put before slamming back into you making his claws come out of his knuckles breaking skin on your left pec making a hot sting break through your body pushing you over your edge.

“Hng~! Haah—“ your hand loosens in his hair and on his back losing your grip going totally limp under him letting your vision blur with your tears and bliss as your cock squirts hot semen on Logan’s stomach with a harsh spasm emptying yourself out as the cock inside your ass keeps moving and violating your insides rearranging your guts. Your thighs quivering around him feeling the Wolverine groaning against your chest leaving it as sore as your clawed up hips.

“Right there with ya bub..” panting on top of you with his full bod weight between your thighs while your inner walls clench and unclench around him over and over in aftershock from your own high as he starts thrusting out of pace collapsing on top of you trembling “ga’dd amm baby” he groans not even bothering to pull out wanting you filled up with every essence of him as he lets the molten liquid paint your prostrate “mh so warm-!” A pout coming from you as you reach your hand back down weakly petting at his head feeling your stomach grow all warm from his cum.

“..thanks Fer that bub..” he murmurs out planting a few soft kisses on your swollen nipples then one on the cut his claw like blades made in your skin. “No problem Logan, although I’ll be expecting a date before you fuck me next time” you hazily speak looking down at his face in your chest watching him before you feel him rusting around in the sheets with the best he made earlier half fallen apart from the sex. “I think I can manage that, now where are the rags we needa get’cha you cleaned up” he cracks a rare grin showing off those pearly canines to you making a slight pout when his cock slides out of you leaving your walls trying to clamp around the air, your rim as red as your cheeks all puffy leaking his seed into your sheets.

“Top drawer to the left Logan…” you muffle out trying to adjust yourself in the now empty bed rolling over on your stomach laying with your arms folded under your chin looking as Logan walks still naked grabbing a rag from the bathroom cabinet as you stare the best you can at his muscular thighs and happy trail. “Stop eye fucking me you litter whore” he grumbles out walking back into the room with the wet towel sitting down on the edge of the bed using the damp wash clothe to wipe off the cum from around your rim as it leaked making you shiver at the feeling, his hands working and wiping off the dried droplets of blood from the cuts on your hips.

“Right sorry” You mumble out as you crawl over to him after he throws the rag to your floor discarding it for the night as he grabs you pulling you closer under his arm not mind his underarm hair while you lean your head down into his hairy chest grabbing one of the blankets from his makeshift nest as you curl up in it snuggling with the older mutant while he presses his chin to the top of your head “think we should do this a’gain bubs” he hums with a gravely voice.

[kanencrow]

The Father who Stepped up - Shauna Shipman | One Shot

Summary: When Shauna gives birth to her baby boy, she finds herself designating you as 'the father who stepped up' after she experiences first-hand how nurturing you are to something so innocent and defenseless. It helps her simultaneously come to terms with the fact that she's a mother, and it also allows her to realize that she's actually kind of into you, too.

Warnings: Swearing, Suggestive Themes, Descriptions of Cannibalism, Talks of Jackie’s Death.

A/N: All characters are 18+ by default, and the reader is gender neutral (no pronouns were used). I'm tempted to do a part two that consists of more domestic stuff amongst you and Shauna because I don't think I added as much I could've in this one shot, but I'm not sure if anyone would want that, so let me know in my inbox!

Word Count: 10000+

It’s like clockwork for Shauna.

She wakes up every single night, at a time where the sun is completely gone, and the room she’s been cooped up in after giving birth is pitch black. Even the illumination of the moon doesn’t peek through the window, and so it only makes it more difficult for her to function when the almost habitual crying of her son sounds off the moment she preemptively wakes up. It’s gotten to a point where her body naturally rouses a few minutes before the baby starts to fuss – like it just knows that her time for sleep is going to get interrupted. It only makes her all the more frustrated and sad, because she values her rest, and she feels that no one wants to take the time to help her care for him.

Shauna’s sleep deprived and grumpy, even as she gathers her aching body and slowly gets up from the bed she’s practically been rotting on for the past few days. Bearing a child with a body that was weak from malnutrition and lack of water was far worse than any traumatic thing she had gone through in the past. So she can’t help the way she groans and whines while she walks over to the makeshift crib you and Van had put together using sticks, leaves, and rocks. It was a nice gift from the two of you, since it gave her a place to put the baby, just so there wasn’t that worry of rolling on top of him while she slept in bed. 

And sure, it made her have to get up more than she wanted, but the thought of losing her son because she wasn’t careful was something that didn’t sit right in her chest. She’d been meaning to thank you and Van for the thoughtfulness, but both of you had been so busy with chores around the cabin – and she could barely walk as is – so it just made the entire task all the more difficult. But with the way neither one of you looked expectant in receiving that form of appreciation, there was a part of her that didn’t find herself rushing in trying to convey how she felt towards the gesture. 

Using it was thanks in itself, right?

She expected the baby to start crying the moment she made it to said crib, but all she got as she rested her hands at the edge of the makeshift bed was complete and utter radio silence. She couldn’t ignore the way her heart jumps to her throat, a rush of anxiety coursing through her like a lightning bolt as the thought of him being dead enters her mind, and when she reaches down into the cradle – only to feel nothing but the blanket she laid out for him – it only forces her worry to skyrocket. Maybe she’s dreaming again, having some sort of nightmare about her boy dying, but she can feel the blanket – the soft fleece against her fingertips, so she knows she’s not asleep.

So, of course, that makes Shauna wonder. Where the fuck is her baby? 

There’s that flash of an image that courses through her mind – a reminder of one of the night terrors she had in regards to her baby boy just a couple days ago. How she heard his screams and his cries, only to find him being used as everyone’s form of satiation. She remembers their blood smeared faces and red teeth as they chewed and chewed and chewed–

“Shauna?” 

It’s like a bullet shoots through her back the moment she hears the softness of your voice fill the otherwise silent air of the cabin. It’s muffled at first, like she’s stuck in a bubble, but then her brain fully snaps out of the weird stupor she found herself in – the one full of fear and anxiety and distrust – and that’s when she suddenly recognizes the incoherent coo of her baby. You took him, she thinks to herself, and there’s a subtle emotion of anger and discontent towards that fact, but she also knows you – even if you haven’t talked to her nearly as much as the others have. Though even then, she knows that you wouldn’t do any of what her mind previously conjured up through dreams and intrusive thoughts. 

That’s all it is. Her mind. Playing tricks on her.

Because you’re kind, you’re careful – gentle – and, even if she didn’t think so when she first woke up, you’re sure as hell one of the only people who’s put in a valiant effort in trying to help her. Both throughout her pregnancy, and even now. Unlike Lottie, who acted like the biological father and insisted that her own child was some sort of incoming prophet, that he was going to change everything. But then you just stuck around, acting as some sort of safety net for her when she needed someone or something to fall back on. Because after losing Jackie, everything felt broken, like a train had gone off the rails and there was no way of pushing it back on track. 

But then you wiggled your way in, through soft words and empathetic or sympathetic glances, and she found herself letting you step through the tiny door of her heart. Because even though the thought of anyone seeing her as weak or incapable of taking care of herself made her want to recoil and die, she couldn’t deny that she needed it, and she couldn’t deny that she wanted you of all people to help her. And maybe that didn’t entirely sit well in her stomach for a good while – or even now, for that matter. That feeling of distrust towards everyone weighed her down, but you were insistent – in a good way, and so she found herself slowly getting over her own fear for the sake of eventually letting you in.

So she should have known you had taken him.

She forgot. 

She could only blame that on her fatigue. 

By the time Shauna turned around to look at you, the baby emitted a quiet coo, as his tiny hands reached up and grabbed at your fingers that you blindly wiggled down at him with your free limb. You were cradling him with your left arm, his head propped up by your bicep as he kicked his feet in the form of a stretch, but you were far more focused on the brunette before you, who looked completely distracted. It was hard to see her, but with the moon having peeked out from behind the trees it was once hiding behind, there was a slight glow on her face, which allowed you to take in the way she stood frozen in her stance and just… stared at you and her kid. 

The little baby in your arms was none the wiser, clearly in his element and content with using your fingers as his own personal form of entertainment. It helped you focus entirely on Shauna, though, when you tilted your head to the side slightly and spoke up, letting your voice break through the long-standing silence that almost suffocated the air. “You okay?” It was a simple question, but it held meaning, an intention, with the way your tone portrayed a genuineness to it. You were curious – maybe concerned, she wasn’t sure, but when you stepped forward slightly, trying to act as a form of comfort, it helped her confirm the fact that you weren’t putting on a facade, just to make her feel like she mattered. 

You actually do think she matters. 

She realized that, even with how slow her mind was being. 

“I was looking for him,” Shauna managed to utter. The response was sudden, and it almost made you flinch with how she didn’t really try to whisper amongst the two of you. But you weren’t offended, or mad for that matter. Just surprised, if not a little endeared by her lack of thoughtfulness. Because you know she’s tired, and you know that if she was wide awake, she probably would have actually put in an effort in keeping her voice down for the sake of not waking anyone up, or rousing the boy in your arms into a state of panic. But luckily, he’s clueless, stuck in his own little world that consisted of him holding your fingers like they were joysticks to an atari. 

“He’s right here,” you quietly assured, after a moment, as you settled your palm against his tiny belly and allowed him to lift your fingers up and down. He was so small, only about a week old, but for such a young little guy, he had been pretty responsive. “I noticed that you haven’t been getting any sleep ever since he came into the world,” you added on, shrugging your shoulders subtly, while Shauna shifted her eyes away from your own to stare down at the baby boy, who struggled to stay awake, as you bounced him slightly in your arms. His eyelids fluttered, and his stubby legs stretched out to hang off either side of your forearm, while you let out the softest huff you could muster, and continued. “I couldn’t sleep tonight, so I wanted to help.” 

Shauna hears your words, and she quickly takes them to heart, which causes her brow to furrow in thought, before she lifts her brown eyes away from her son to look up at you instead. “You didn’t have to do that,” she told you, as though she were almost scolding you. But you could only shrug her off with a shake of your head, knowing that she was just saying that to make herself seem stronger. Which – she was strong – but she also didn’t have to be. 

Not for this, at least. 

“I wanted to,” you quietly mumbled, as you stepped closer to her and sent her a small smile through the darkness of the room. You weren’t even sure if she could see the expression on your face, but you didn’t seem to find it in you to care, when you maneuvered past her and lowered the already sleeping child back into the crib. It forced Shauna to turn her body and watch you, and as you cradled his head and guided it to rest on the little bump underneath the blanket you were laying him onto, it caused her stomach to unintentionally flutter.

She wasn’t surprised that you were so delicate with the boy. Still, it managed to push her into a state of awe, as you slipped your hands out from underneath his body and stood back up to your full height. Through the darkness, she could see the way you stared down at him, admiring the way he peacefully spread out across the blanket, like a little starfish. And his fingers curling into fists were enough to convey to you that he had fully fallen asleep. It meant that your work in helping Shauna rest was done, and as you nodded to yourself and stepped back from the crib to silently make your leave, the brunette ended up reaching out and grabbing a hold of your wrist. 

It was surprising to her that you were thinking of leaving without saying anything, but after spending so many months with you in the wilderness, she guessed that she couldn’t be shocked. You’ve always been quiet, always kept to yourself and spoke to others only when they would speak to you. But that was a while back. Now you seemed a little more outgoing, but there was still a subtle shyness to you. Especially with the way you tensed slightly at her touch, and slowly turned around to look at her, as though you thought you were in trouble. However, you weren’t, and you seemed to recognize that when her fingers tightened slightly to squeeze your joint.

“Thank you,” Shauna stated, “really.”

You replied back with a simple nod and a sheepish smile. And that was when she let go of your wrist and allowed you to take a few steps towards the door and exit the room. And even then, you were as quiet as a mouse and mindful of the resting boy in the crib, and she couldn’t help but feel a certain type of way about you in turn.

It was a good feeling, though.

—————————————————————————

It was the crackling of the fireplace that acted as a form of ambiance to your mind, as you reclined along the window-side seat and stared out through the pane of glass. Your legs remained stretched out in front of you, socked feet moving mindlessly back and forth, while the incoherent murmurs of your teammates sounded off throughout the rest of the cabin, accompanying the resonation of wood crackling under intense heat. Snow fell from outside, coating the ground in even more of the white powder that had been nothing but unforgiving for the past two months, and you couldn’t help but wish for spring to come soon because of it.

There was a feeling that settled inside of your chest – intuition – that told you it was going to eventually melt away. Considering how often the sun had come out as of recent, it made sense. But for now, it was still cold, and you were more than happy to stay inside and admire the outer world from the comfort of the building you’ve been living in. Especially after spending the majority of the day doing chores, chopping wood that you took from the meat shed or shoveling the porch with the intention of keeping you and everyone else from being snowed in. Again. 

Your cheeks felt frozen by the time you stepped back inside of the cabin, but at least the fireplace was roaring with life, and at least Misty was there to give you a hot cup of water. She always made sure to do her part, and whether it was by helping or speaking up to give some sort of logical statement towards a certain idea or discussion, you appreciated her… quirks and all. And, sure, you would have definitely preferred hot chocolate or tea when she did gift you the treat, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, and so you found yourself feeling thankful either way. 

“My god, can you just stop squirming, please?” 

Mari’s voice managed to break out amongst the rest of the softer sounds that echoed throughout the cabin, and just from the frustration in her voice, you could tell that she was the one who had been tasked with taking care of the baby. Even after months of him being alive, Shauna still hadn’t named him, and a part of you was convinced she never would, with how her features always shifted into an expression of melancholy and deep, intense thought whenever she scrutinized the face of her child. You could understand that she was still trying to come to terms with the fact that she was a mom, and although you kept a respectful distance – not wanting to push anything or cross a boundary, you did want to help.

You had, in ways that consisted of making sure he didn’t keep her up at night with his crying. You were more than willing to deprive yourself of sleep for the sake of Shauna having her beauty rest, and it wasn’t like the little dude disliked you or anything. He always seemed happy to be in your arms when you paid him a late night visit and moved out of the brunette’s room to go and sit by the window bench. That spot always gave you front row seats to the moon and the way it shined through to act as his personal nightlight, and you cherished the moment, all while you slowly rocked him back to sleep with his head against your chest. But that was really the extent of your aid, other than feeding him or keeping an eye on him when no one else could. 

But you did find yourself curious as to what Mari was doing. Especially with the way she huffed and puffed about the baby boy and his desire to wiggle like that of a worm. The thought of him giving her a hard time made you sneakily smirk to yourself as you swung your legs off the bench, and the moment you turned your body to look towards the kitchen, you stood up to your full height, all while your eyes caught sight of the girl trying to put a – poorly made – knitted hat on his head. You weren’t sure who made it, but it certainly didn’t look like something someone would wear. And if they did… they sure as hell wouldn’t be able to make it look good. 

Even if it was on someone as cute as Shauna’s son.

He was sitting on the table, and with the way he let out a little whine and grumpily swung his arms up and down, you could tell that he didn't want the hat on his head. But Mari was incessant, muttering something about how it’ll keep him warm, and you could only roll your eyes, as you walked towards the kitchen and scrutinized the scene with an intention of saving the little boy from the girl’s control. Which seemed to go as well as it could, when she eventually lifted her focus away from him and looked at you instead, noticing your presence the moment the floor creaked beneath your feet. It didn’t take her long to let out a huff, before she picked up the baby by his waist and held him out to you as though he was some sort of toy. 

“Here, take him,” Mari grumbled, “I can’t deal with it anymore.” Her patience was practically nonexistent, which wasn’t something you were ignorant to. You remembered the time where she almost strangled Travis because he wouldn’t stop complaining the first week you and everyone else crash-landed in the middle of the forest, so it wasn’t surprising that she was experiencing it in the current moment. Granted, you couldn’t necessarily blame her, but maybe she wasn’t the best person to rely on when it came to babysitting Shauna’s kid. 

So, you were swift in reaching up and pulling the boy into the comfort of your arms, before you settled him onto your hip, and when he immediately rested his head onto your shoulder and tightened his fingers to ball up the fabric of your Wiskayok Yellowjackets hoodie, you felt your heart swell in your chest, discreetly relishing in the way he seemed so comfortable with you. Mari even seemed to don an expression of surprise herself – with a mixture of jealousy – too, when her eyes glanced down to look at the boy, who made a point to direct his attention somewhere else, as though he was holding a grudge against the girl in front of you. 

Like mother, like son, you think.

It was kind of an amusing sight, and you found yourself huffing lightheartedly, as you cradled his butt with your limbs and spoke up. “I don’t think that hat fits him, by the way.” You gave her a teasing look, only to glance down at the child in your hold for the sake of making sure he was okay. And he was, with the way his eyes were now closed, all while he breathed contently against your collarbone and continued to grip the fabric of your hoodie like a lifeline. 

“He was just being difficult,” Mari mumbled, seemingly ignoring your statement and deeming it as incorrect, while she folded her arms over her chest and moved her eyes down to look at the boy, too. “It would’ve fit if he just stopped moving.” 

You found yourself humming at her words, but the sound was entirely mindless, “Whatever you say.” It wasn’t long before you turned your head away from her and took a moment to glance around the vicinity of the cramped cabin. There was an intent in the action, and when you didn’t find who you were subconsciously looking for, you allowed your eyes to fall back onto Mari, while you sent her a look of wonder. “Do you know where Shauna is?”

“Why?” Mari uttered, a certain glint of… something you couldn’t entirely decrypt suddenly forming in her brown eyes, but when the corner of her lip curled up into a smirk, it gave you the slightest inkling that she was finding your question comical. “Miss her?” And you came out to be correct, which made you immediately scoff at her question, and it only caused that small smile to break out into a grin on her cheeks, “What? Don’t act like you haven’t been trying to worm your way into her heart,” she said, “you’re almost worse than Lottie. With her whole ‘our baby’ thing.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just trying to help her out,” you stated, as you bashfully lowered your eyes, pretending to be occupied with the baby in your arms, who continued to rest comfortably within them. “It’s not easy being a single mom, and I don’t think Lottie’s whole ‘your baby is the key to make the wilderness happy’ bit is really helpful, either,” you added on, as heat rose to your cheeks at the distant thought of being perceived as some sort of lap dog for Shauna. And, granted, your valiant effort to defend her definitely didn’t help your case, but you couldn’t help it, considering the fact that Lottie had been a little… off ever since the baby boy was born. 

You weren’t unaware of the way she would just stare at you whenever you carried Shauna’s son. It was hard to understand if she was jealous of the sight, or if she had something on her mind and simply didn’t know how to address it. But maybe you were also overthinking it, and honestly, you couldn’t – and didn’t necessarily want to – bring yourself to think about it in the current moment, which caused you to quietly clear your throat, before you stepped back and gently hoisted the boy in your arms up to rest more comfortably on your hip. “Where’s Shauna?” you questioned again.

“I don’t know.” Mari shrugged, “Not here, clearly.”

Always the smartass, you thought to yourself, before you rolled your eyes and let out a heavy breath. It wasn’t long before you turned around and walked away from Mari, successfully deeming her as the most unhelpful person in the group, and you ultimately decided to search for Shauna on your own. The only place you could think she would be was the single bedroom within the cabin, and so you found yourself padding in that direction unconsciously, which caused the boy in your arms to tighten his grip on your hoodie, due to your movement. You weren’t even sure if she was going to be in there, but it was the only idea you had when it came to where she might have been, and so you went with the idea, secretly hoping you’d come out to be right. 

The murmurs of the rest of the group ended up disappearing by the time you eventually turned the corner and made it to the door, and when you noticed it slightly ajar, you didn't think anything of it, as you pressed on and pushed it open. It creaked, signifying its age, and you winced, as you glanced down at the baby in your arms, hoping that the high-pitch resonation didn’t stir him from his slumber. You were thankful, though, when all you received in return was a tiny grunt from him that portrayed his unconscious state, and it quelled the worry of possibly waking him up. His features were still relaxed, stuck deep in dreamland while he slightly drooled on your hoodie, and with a small smile at the sight, you lifted your head up to look forward.

You immediately froze in your place when your eyes fell onto Shauna.

The last thing you expected to see was her back, which was covered in nothing but the strap of her charcoal-colored bra and showing off her pallid skin-tone that was complimented by the few freckles that adorned it. They scattered across the expanse of her flesh like stars in the sky, and your pupils naturally flickered back and forth to admire each one. It felt like you had been punched in the gut, with the way your breath silently hitched in your throat, and a weight of something you couldn’t describe settled within your stomach. It wasn’t a negative feeling by any means, but you couldn’t deny the way you felt like some sort of pervert for having waltzed in without so much as knocking. 

You found yourself regretting your actions, though there was no way for you to rewind time or pretend like you had never stepped into the room to begin with. Especially when Shauna seemingly sensed your presence, as though she had some sort of sixth sense, and slowly turned her head to glance over her shoulder, peering at you with a form of curiosity in her brown eyes. You stood there, all the while, probably looking like an idiot, with the way you stared at her with a wide gaze and held her child in your arms stiffly. But you couldn’t find it in you to consciously assess how odd you might have come across. All you could do was stutter out some sort of apology, as you parted your lips and felt your stomach leap to your throat. “I-I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to just – uh…” 

Your voice trailed, and there was a certain air to Shauna’s demeanor that kept you from continuing, when you saw the ghost of an endeared smile fall onto her lips, before she turned back around and reached down to grab an old black band t-shirt that was tattered and had clearly seen better days. You remained idle in your spot, standing in front of the door as though you were a deer stuck in a pair of headlights, and as you dumbly watched the brunette pull the top over her head and allow it to fall down to cover her torso, there was a subtle feeling of disappointment that filled your chest. 

But you attempted to ignore it, while you swallowed and waited for her to reply. 

“Knocking exists, you know,” she uttered quietly, as she slowly turned around to completely face you, and lowered herself to sit down on the bed she had originally grabbed her shirt from. There was a subtle tone of lightheartedness in her voice, but you still felt embarrassment fill your body, as she gave you a tired, teasing look with her brown eyes and tilted her head to the side slightly. She clearly wasn’t offended by your intrusion, much to your own surprise, and that was when you found the ability to move your legs again, when you took a short step forward and bowed your head apologetically. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled, “I should’ve…” 

Shauna shook her head and shrugged, “It’s fine.” 

You decided to keep your lips tightly wound after her response, pressing them together tightly, and you treaded carefully as you sluggishly walked further into the room. Your legs kicked out slightly as you moved, and your eyes flickered around to take in the vicinity that you had found yourself in far more than you probably should have. Ever the conversationalists, neither one of you knew what to say next. Should you have said, ‘hey, here’s your baby,’ as though you were some pizza delivery person? That probably wouldn’t have been a good idea, considering he wasn’t food. But you didn’t know what else to do, except sit down beside her and silently hand her the child…

But even then, that didn’t feel right.

“Is he sleeping?” 

Shauna’s question broke through your muddled thoughts, and you found yourself immediately letting out a quiet breath of relief in turn, which was something you hoped she didn’t hear. When your eyes moved away from a random wall inside the room to meet her brown ones again, it didn’t seem like she picked up on the sound you made, when she simply stared at you with a certain type of earnestness that left you feeling warm inside. Her unwavering gaze after she inquired was enough to create a ball inside of your throat, and you found yourself trying to force it down with a swallow, as you slowly looked back down at the boy in your arms and nodded. 

“Yeah,” you affirmed, “he is.” Your verbal confirmation was the last thing you said, before you eventually made it close to her bed and sat down beside her. The mattress barely dipped with how firm and old it was, but you could still see the way she faintly jostled from the added weight, out of the corner of your eye. You found yourself focusing entirely on her son, though, when you gently maneuvered him in your arms and cradled him like he was a week old again. He was still light, easy to hold without feeling as though your limbs were about to fall off, but his hair had grown in, and it was blond. 

A dirty blond. 

His eyes were brown, though, and his nose looked like it was going to develop into a shape like Shauna’s, the older he got. That cute, slightly imperfect bridge that you always admired whenever you caught sight of the brunette’s side profile. His round face and little lips looked just like hers as well, and you found yourself fascinated and almost amused at how he barely looked like Jeff. Even with the blond hair that hadn’t fully grown in yet and made the little boy look like an old man who was balding. It was surreal, in a way. How the girl beside you had managed to create such a beautiful soul through an ongoing situation that left all of you feeling hopeless and dreadful. 

“I’m sorry.” 

It was the words of Shauna again that tugged you out of your daydream. You found yourself blinking a few times, and when you slowly pulled your eyes away from her son to gaze at her, she was already staring at you, looking into your irises with her brown ones that the baby in your arms carried, too. You had to stop yourself from admiring other parts of her face for the sake of conveying to her that you were listening, and when you mindlessly creased your brow in confusion towards her apology, she took that as her chance to continue, as she scooted closer to you and flickered her focus down towards the child you were holding. 

“I haven’t really been present,” she explained, clarifying herself, with a tone that conveyed shame, “for him.” You glanced down at her mouth for a split second, taking in the way that they were chapped and had dried-up blood on them, which you realized must have been from her anxiously nipping at her lips. Not only that, but it was also the winter, so you weren’t surprised, but even with the sight that didn’t necessarily look pleasant, you still found your stomach fluttering, before you shifted your attention back up to meet her gaze once again. 

You inevitably shook your head, finding your voice, “It’s okay,” you whispered, “I know things have been… hard, for you.” It was difficult to know what to say to help her feel better, but you put in a valiant effort to tread lightly, which seemed to work in your favor, when she slowly deflated and decided to lean closer to you and lower her head against your shoulder. The heavy sigh she let out shortly after was enough to convey that she’d been needing some form of comfort, and although you tensed slightly, you let her have it, as you continued and glanced down at the baby in your arms. “It’s not easy having a kid and then being expected to take care of it after everything that’s happened.”

“I did it to myself,” Shauna mumbled, as she pressed her thigh against yours and mindlessly plucked at the fabric of her t-shirt, “I shouldn’t have meddled with my best friend's love life.” Even with being trapped in the wilderness, there was still a certain air of intelligence in the way she spoke, and you couldn’t help the way the corner of your lip curled up, as you slowly nodded your head in response to her statement. “Now I’m paying for it.” Her tone was dry, ultimately, and you weren't sure if it was because of the fact that she didn’t have it in her to be sad about what happened, or if she was simply angry at herself now, for what she did. 

“At least he doesn’t look like Jeff,” you replied quietly, trying to lighten the mood in your own way, which caused Shauna to scoff dryly, as she pressed her cheek deeper into your shoulder and stared down at the sleeping boy in your arms. “Clearly your genes are stronger.” 

The conversation lulled slightly, but you weren’t surprised, when Shauna silently reached her hand out and wiped her thumb over the corner of her baby’s mouth. Dried spit, you realized, was what she was trying to make disappear, and it reminded you of the little stain you had on your hoodie from his drool, which created an emotion of amusement that fluttered through your chest as you watched her gently tend to her kid. It wasn’t a common occurrence. It was like she was scared to touch him, or hold him, or even be in a room alone with him. But at the same time, she was equally protective. She had mixed feelings, obviously, and you had a feeling as to why that was.

And you didn’t want to bring it up.

But it was nice to see her attentiveness, even if it was something that was short-lived, when she inevitably pulled her hand back from his face, and let it fall onto her lap. “I haven’t even named him,” she suddenly stated, and when you turned your head slightly to look down at her, she pulled her cheek away from your shoulder and sat back up to stare down at the floor between her legs. “I don’t even know how to be a mom,” she added on, and you frowned faintly, before you slowly stood up to your full height and ambled over to the boys’ crib, letting her words drift off into the air, while you settled him against the makeshift bed you and Van created for him, and tucked him under a shirt that acted as a blanket for his small body.

“No one does at first,” you eventually replied, pulling your hands away from him, before you stepped back from the crib and turned around to look at Shauna, who bounced her knee up and down anxiously, not meeting your gaze. “No one gives you a rule book on how to be a parent, Shauna,” you reminded her, “it’s not easy… but that’s why we’re here–” 

“You.” 

Shauna’s mumble cut you off, and you paused to scrutinize her, “What?” 

“You’re here,” she said, as she slowly lifted her head up to meet your eyes, “not them.” Your features faintly flinched in surprise, and when you shifted in your stance and shoved your hands into the pockets of your pajama pants that were just as tattered as all your other clothes, she continued. “You’ve been the only one who’s, like… actually helped me ever since I had him,” she explained, “I mean, other than Van, who helped make the crib with you, you’ve been here to take care of him, while I’ve just…” her voice trailed off, and she shrugged her shoulders, clearly at a loss for what else to say. 

“You’ve got other stuff to deal with,” you uttered, trying to defend her from herself. 

But Shauna shook her head, while you slowly trailed back towards the bed and watched her intently. “Like wallowing and resenting my own child who hasn’t done anything to deserve it?” You let out a deep breath when you turned around and lowered yourself to sit down beside her, and as your brow creased into a look of thought, she felt her eyes sting with unshed tears. “I’ve been the worst mom – you’re more of a parent than I am–” 

“Shauna, stop,” you stated, shaking your head, before you looked at her and watched the way she pulled her face out of her hands and sighed shakily, “you’re not a bad mom,” you told her, “I mean… it’s normal to feel like shit after giving birth,” you added on, with the intention of making her feel less guilty, “postpartum depression is a thing, and you’re probably dealing with that on top of… y’know.” Shauna’s brow furrowed at your words, and when she shifted her brown eyes to meet yours, you could tell she was confused by how you knew that, which caused you to quickly clarify, as you shrugged. “I paid attention in health class.”

“Of course you did,” Shauna laughed out, her voice thick with emotion, as she shook her head and smiled sadly at your words. You chuckled quietly in response to her reaction, feeling a sense of pride swell in your chest towards the fact that you made her giggle, but when she sniffled and glanced down to stare at a certain spot on your face, you felt your heart leap to your throat. “How come we never really talked… before all of this?” she questioned suddenly, as her pupils fluttered back up to meet your gaze, not allowing you the chance to truly dwell on the subtle action, “We were on the same team, yet we barely ever spoke to each other.” 

“Was kinda intimidated by you, actually,” you mumbled sheepishly, which caused her to give you an expression of disbelief, clearly unable to understand what might have been so scary about her. And it caused you to shrug your shoulders, as you shyly turned your head away and stared down at your lap, suddenly feeling small. Like you were exposed entirely. “I don’t know… I always wanted to talk to you, but I just… couldn’t?” You pursed your lips and pressed your palms together, and when you intertwined your fingers, you felt your cheeks heat up as you breathed in deeply and confessed through an exhale, “Guess I was just too scared to talk to a girl that I thought was pretty.” 

At your words, Shauna could only stare at you, her brown eyes focusing on the defined features of your side profile and the way you clenched your jaw tightly out of nervousness, as you stared contemplatively at the floor. Your nostrils flared with a breath, and her heart thudded against her ribcage once that only signified the way your words made her feel. It was a random beat at first, but then it happened again, and again, and again. It cemented her feelings – the way you had secretly made her feel over the span of two months hitting her like an unforgiving truck, and it caused her to swallow thickly, as she broke her focus away from your face and gazed down at your hands instead. 

She wasn’t sure what to say, and it was obvious that the silence that ensued wasn’t one that made either one of you feel comfortable. You shifted awkwardly in your spot, your face feeling flush, while Shauna lost herself in her own mind and continued to stare down at your interwoven fingers. It felt as though you were sixteen again, dealing with your first crush and experiencing mental gymnastics when it came to how you were going to confess that you liked the person you had eyes for. And granted, you were older now, but after spending… however many months in the wilderness, it felt like your social skills had vanished, and you were left ignorant again. 

As well as a fool that had no grasp on how to say, ‘I like you’ to a cute girl.

It felt like hours had passed – when in actuality it was a minute, before you eventually cleared your throat awkwardly and lifted your chin to allow your eyes to shift away from the floor and towards Shauna’s instead. Your lips parted, as if to try and say something – or to defend yourself for what you had already stated – but nothing came out. And while the brunette seemed to find herself frozen in the way she continued to gaze down at your tense hands, you studied her expression, noticing how her features were taut with contemplation and something deeper, but indecipherable.

“I’m sorry.” 

You suddenly apologized, without thinking, and when your voice – soft throughout the air – broke through the clouded thoughts of Shauna’s mind, that was when she blinked and jolted back into reality. Her brown eyes snapped up to your face, feeling them sting with unshed tears, and your brow furrowed to express your genuine guilt for making her feel uncomfortable. But she wasn’t uncomfortable. She was just… shocked. And confused. Because she had always been used to being second best, or stuck in the shadow of someone who was deemed as far more important than she ever could be. But even when Jackie was alive and she was actively experiencing the woes of being ‘the sidekick’ and ‘just the best friend,’ you still noticed her.

Still saw her as Shauna Shipman. 

Not Jackie’s best friend.

And it made her angry that you waited so fucking long to say something. 

To give her any sort of idea that you liked her.

Maybe it was the postpartum hormones that made Shauna swell with a mixture of frustration and sadness, or maybe it was just her, and it had nothing to do with the after effects of her giving birth. Either way, you saw a tear slip from the corner of her brown eye, and she could feel the salty droplet and the way it streaked down her cheek in an almost poetically depressing way. It only caused your breath to hitch in your throat, the guilt in your chest increasing drastically, and when you tried to reach your hand up to wipe away the stain, she grabbed your wrist, halting your movement, just as your fingers grazed over the skin of her face. 

“Shit, I’m sorry–” 

Ever the apologist, Shauna cut you off before you could complete your sentence, when she pushed your wrist down to pin it against your lap and suddenly leaned forward to press her lips against your own. The action was done with a swiftness that left your mind reeling and your body tensing as your body leaned back slightly, but when she unconsciously squeezed your joint that she held onto like a lifeline, you snapped out of your shock. The roughness of her mouth – chapped and dry – against your own, wasn’t unwanted. Especially not when you had been wanting to kiss her for the past year and a half. So it only made sense to relax into it, when you breathed out through your nose and allowed your eyes to flutter shut.

You promptly followed her lead, creating a game that consisted of her pushing and you pulling, as your lips parted to slot together like a perfect puzzle piece. Her grip tightened on your joint all the more, and although her fingernails lightly dug into your skin, it wasn’t enough to get you to move away from her. If anything, it urged you closer to her, when you reached up with your free hand and cupped her cheek. Your mouths moved together, quiet sounds of them smacking together intermixing with the soft breaths that the two of you let out, and before you could even realize what was happening, you were being pushed back against the firm mattress, which allowed her to pin your wrist she grasped above your head, while your other palm fell away from her face to rest against your stomach. 

Shauna pulled her lips away from you in that same moment, and when you let out a quiet pant and fluttered your eyes open, she was already looking down at you with a certain emotion in her brown irises. You weren’t sure what it meant, but with how hazy your mind felt, and with how quick your heart thumped inside of your chest, you couldn’t bring yourself to grow concerned. Especially not with the way she loomed over you, and allowed her fingers to finally loosen around your wrist. Your focus shifted in turn, to watch her as she slid them up and over your palm, before they curled between your own and eventually intertwined in a way that felt like a perfect fit.

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner,” you mumbled, after a moment, as your eyes shifted back to meet the brunette’s. But Shauna could only shake her head dismissively, not wanting to talk about feelings, before she leaned down and pressed her lips against yours once again. 

You immediately reciprocated that time, no longer hesitant to succumb to the concept of loving her, and when you happily hummed against her mouth, she felt her stomach flip, as a weight of tension slipped off of her shoulders.

Just like water. 

—————————————————————————

There was something oddly therapeutic about the sounds of a baby giggling. The belly laughs that were infectious and left anyone who heard them grinning from ear to ear like an idiot. That may or may not have been you in the current moment, as you watched as Shauna blew raspberries into her boys’ belly from where he laid on her bed. His arms and legs swung back and forth to signify just how ticklish her actions had made him, and you felt your heart swell with affection towards the two, while you watched her pull herself up to look down at him with an expression on her face that conveyed nothing but admiration and love towards the child. 

She named him Jackson.

Because although she had her own personal qualms about Jackie, the thought of forgetting her like a distant memory wasn’t something Shauna could ever fathom, and you couldn’t blame her for it. You remembered having the conversation with her, shortly after you and her started dating, and you were all for it, because you knew how much she loved her best friend, even if the last time they spoke didn’t end on the best terms. She saw it as a form of an apology, in her own way. And although you didn’t fully understand – not nearly as well as she did – you went along with it, because it was her choice in the end, and there was no way in hell you were going to control what she did. 

Besides, Jackson was a cute name. 

It fit him. 

You snapped back into reality when a little fist smacked against your cheek, and you were quick to jolt back slightly, as you blinked and looked down at Jackson, who clearly wasn’t aware of what he had just done. He was far too focused on Shauna tickling his sides teasingly, and when he let out a high-pitch squeal as she picked him up, you chuckled softly, before your eyes flickered up to look at your girlfriend, who seemed a lot happier than two months ago, when you shared your first kiss with her. There was a certain glow to her. One that radiated from under all the dirt and grime that seemed to stain her face, even after washing it with water at the lake just an hour ago, and it made you happy in turn. 

She would never fully heal, you knew that. None of you would, realistically… once you all got out of this mess. But at least she was searching for the good in things now, trying to actively find optimism, rather than the pessimism she had been so used to embodying. And you were well aware that she would always be Shauna. The girl who didn’t get as excited over the things that you or other people would. Or the girl who found far more enjoyment in staying in and reading a book, rather than going out and mingling with people at a party she didn’t truly want to attend. Hell, even now, stuck in the wilderness, she acted like a ghost who occasionally payed the rest of the cabin a visit.  

But it wasn’t a bad thing. 

It would never be a bad thing.

“Hey. Earth to Y/n?” 

You blinked back into reality the moment Shauna’s voice broke through the fog of your mind, and you quickly realized that your eyes had fallen back down without you knowing, which ended in you intensely staring at the spot Jackson had once been laying. All that sat there now was a vacant spot, and it left the brunette feeling slightly worried. Especially with the way your gaze sat unwavering, simply focused down at the sheets, as though they were the most interesting thing in the world to you. It was obvious enough to you that she had put her son down to rest for the remainder of the day, and as you let out a quiet exhale through your nose and flickered your eyes up to meet your girlfriend’s, you rolled over onto your back and raised your brow in silent questioning.

“Hm?” You attempted to play off your daydream with a lackadaisical demeanor, but when Shauna scrunched her features up in both perplexity and concern, you knew you had failed miserably. Her brown eyes practically bored into yours, and you couldn’t bring yourself to avert your gaze, as you watched her move and sit back down on the mattress, before she clasped her hands together, so that they could rest comfortably in her lap, and gave you a certain look. 

“What do you mean, ‘hm’?” she teased lightly with a smirk, as she shook her head in amusement towards your poor ability to play off your bout of distraction. She crossed her legs over the other in that same moment, and when you shrugged your shoulders and sluggishly pushed yourself up into a sitting position, she tilted her head to the side and sent you an expression that conveyed nothing but genuine curiosity. “What were you doing?” she asked, while you stared at her silently, like someone who had been caught doing something they shouldn’t have.

“Just thinkin’,” you admitted, giving her another shrug, as the corners of your lips quirked up faintly. Shauna only rolled her eyes at your simple statement, and when you let out a quiet huff in response, she used your reaction as proof that you were okay.  

Though, even then, your vague explanation gave her the excuse to scoot closer to you, and you found yourself mindlessly leaning into her, as she reached her hand up to cup your cheek. “About what?” She gently rubbed the pad of her calloused thumb over the skin that sat underneath your eye, the touch almost featherlight in the way it felt against you. And you pressed into the feeling, almost melting against the warmth of her palm that cradled the side of your face, which caused her to smile softly in turn, finding satisfaction in how comfortable you were to her affection.

“You,” you eventually replied, before you raised a hand up and curled your fingers around her wrist, “and Jackson.” You gently held the joint in your grasp and turned your head slightly to press your lips against the heel of her palm, “Thinking about how so much has changed. In a good way.” You tugged it away from your face to bring that part of her body down into your lap, and she felt her heart warm, the moment you moved your thumb across the lines that decorated her limb. “I’m happy that you’re both here… that I’m with the two of you,” you mumbled, your voice coming out as a quiet whisper, as you lowered your chin to gaze down at what you were doing. 

Your introspective thoughts about Shauna and Jackson weren’t uncommon, and she knew that, considering the fact that you often found yourself daydreaming when it came to her and her son. How you would stare, and stare, and stare, until she’d eventually notice and snap you out of it with a question. Hell, sometimes your mind buzzed so much to the point where you would wake up in the middle of the night and head outside to sit on the porch. And then you would just… think, about her, or Jackson, or about your teammates that also resided in the cabin. And it was all while you listened to the randomly occurring sounds of owls hooting, or birds flapping their wings and rustling the leaves that they hid within.

“You always have a habit of becoming sappy after we put Jackson to bed,” Shauna uttered suddenly, as she glanced down at your fingers, and watched the way they continued to trace over the lines of her palm. “You know that, right?” You simply shrugged your shoulders, feeling the corner of your lip curve up into a soft, innocent smirk that was entirely mindless, and it caused a quiet huff of endearment to slip from the brunette, before she scooted closer to you – her knee pressing against your thigh – and used her free hand to pinch your chin with her index and thumb, as she slowly tugged your focus up to meet her own once again. 

“I can’t help it,” you replied softly, the moment you met her gaze, smiling a little brighter. The brunette flickered her brown eyes between your own, clearly stuck in a bout of admiration towards the way the color of your irises fit the different contours and features of your face perfectly, and your only form of defense consisted of you shrugging – again – as you pressed your lips together tightly. “It’s not my fault you’re you and he’s him.” It was clear she didn’t know what you meant by those words, with the way her brow faintly creased in reaction to your statement, but she couldn’t bring herself to question you.

She found your form of affection too endearing to try and deconstruct it.

With Shauna still pinching the bottom of your chin, you remained frozen in your spot, staring at her intently and with a certain glint of softness shining in your eyes. “You’re a dork,” she found herself pointing out, and you immediately brightened in reply, when she let out a loving chuckle and tugged you forward slightly, just so she could press her mouth to your own. Her sound of amusement died down the moment the tip of your nose brushed against her own, and when she tipped her head up slightly to graze her lips over your own, her eyelids fluttering, that was when you pushed in and kissed her, making the connection.

There wasn’t a feeling of anxiety or nervousness that filled your chest, as your hand slowly came up to cradle the side of her neck. It wasn’t like the first time you kissed her. Wasn’t a moment full of uncertain movement and uncoordinated positions that left the two of you huffing out embarrassed laughs and flushing with heat. There was intent and fluidity that went into it now, but even if you and her still acted like you had never shared a peck before, you still would have enjoyed the moment either way. But maybe you were also appreciative of the fact that you didn’t feel like you were going to explode anymore, just from feeling her against you.

With the way you were positioned on the bed, it wasn’t difficult for Shauna to shift onto her knees and use one of her hands to press it against your hip bone. Her other limb cradled your face tenderly, her touch possessive but equally gentle, and the moment your back fell against the mattress, and your head was suddenly cradled by the pillow, that was when her lips fell away from you. With a panting breath, your eyes fluttered open and stared up at her to see her own brown irises gazing down at you already, but before you could say anything to her, she was already leaning down – disappearing from your line of vision – to peck the side of your neck.

There was intention in the action, and it made you flush with heat, as she nestled herself between your legs and pressed her palms against your hips to keep herself from falling on top of you. Your eyelids fluttered when you felt the heat of her breath against the skin of your jaw, and as she kissed the line of it, just underneath your ear, your voice broke through the silence, as your head lulled to the side to stare towards the door of the room, which was already closed and providing the two of you with privacy. “What if someone comes in?” you questioned weakly, your voice lacking its usual confidence, as Shauna moved her hand down slightly and slipped her fingers underneath your shirt. 

“Everyone’s outside enjoying the sun,” she mumbled against your flesh, while you tensed up and let out a shaky breath as she smoothed her fingers up your stomach. You ultimately moved past the possibility of anyone barging into the room, even if her words didn’t fully convince you, but when her nails lightly tickled your skin, you couldn’t stop the quiet giggle that slipped from your lips, as your hand shot down to grab her forearm. 

Shauna let out a huff at your action, and you weren’t sure if it was out of annoyance or amusement. But when she nipped at your earlobe with her teeth and curled her fingers to continue lightly grazing her nails over the skin of your belly, you could tell she was simply trying to spur you on in the way you originally reacted. And it seemed to work in her favor, when you tightened your grip on her forearm and let out a quiet grunt that did nothing but convey your displeasure and sensitivity towards her teasing. 

“Shauna,” you groaned quietly, pushing at her limb.

But she didn’t budge, and she only moved her hand to hold your side instead, as she leaned back slightly to gaze down at you, her dilated pupils locking with yours. “What?” she asked, though you knew the question was entirely rhetorical, when you noticed the ghost of a smirk form on her lips, “I’m not doing anything.” Her faux innocence made you roll your eyes, and she chuckled in turn, finding your attitude comical to her, before she hunkered down to kiss the bone of your cheek, as her hand that lingered on your waist suddenly smoothed lower to tease at the waistband of your shorts. 

Her movements still managed to make you squirm, the action ticklish to you, though you also couldn’t deny the way it made your heart speed up, while she watched your expression intently. She searched for any sort of visible response from you, as she hooked her fingers over the elastic, and with the way your eyes flitted to meet her brown ones, it was easy to see the way your features shifted into a look of subtle surprise, the moment you felt the featherlight touch of her fingers graze over the band of your underwear. 

“I’ll go slow–” 

“Guys! Guys!” 

At the sudden voice, which erupted throughout the cabin like an annoying alarm, Shauna’s hand jolted out of your pants as though she had been burned with fire, while you sucked in a sharp breath and snapped your focus towards the door. It opened just as your girlfriend leaned back on her heels with an almost frustrated huff slipping from her lips, and while you propped yourself up onto your elbows, you saw the figure of Van peek through the gap they had created. 

Their eyes were as wide as saucers, and their expression was the brightest you had ever seen since you all became trapped in the wilderness. It made your brow furrow in turn, while the brunette stared at them with an unimpressed expression on her features, clearly unhappy towards the fact that the moment had been ruined between you and her. “What, Van?” 

You snorted quietly at Shauna’s perturbed response, and Van completely ignored it, when they grinned widely and frantically glanced between the two of you with a glint of excitement in their blue eyes. “Nat waved down a fucking helicopter.” Their words were enough to make your face scrunch up in confusion, almost not believing them, and when you pushed yourself up into a sitting position and narrowed your eyes at the goalkeeper, they didn’t even give you the chance to ask what they meant, when they answered the question for you.

“They found us, guys,” Van stated, clarifying themself, “we can finally get out of here.”

This took me way too long to finish.

[januaryembrs]

Bugsy and Spencer tea!!

the one with the card counting | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader

description: Bugsy and Spence quarrel while playing Old Maid

length: 700 wds

set in the trouble almost all my life universe

“Spence, I love you, but if you try card counting in Old Maid one more time, I’m not speaking to you for the rest of the flight,” Bugsy snipped, staring down at the man over their deck of cards, his hazel eyes narrowed and concentrated as he flicked through his hand. The joker card glared down at him from the dead centre, where he’d strategically placed it so she’d be more likely to take it when her turn came, though he’d been unsuccessful so far. 

She didn’t need to see his lips to know he was chewing them in frustration, eyes darting between the pile on the table of already used hands, the rest of the deck they were picking up from, and how many cards she had in her hand. 

“I’m not, and even if I was, it’s just math,” He replied in a defensive tone, knowing she’d already caught him out as he looked up at her, the red back designs fanning over her mouth and nose, though her annoyed expression was still clear as day to him. For a guy who rarely understood what people meant until they spelled it out verbally for him, Bugsy had always just seemed to make sense in his head, “I’m not cheating,”

He said it like someone who was trying to convince himself it was true, his eyes as innocent and none threatening as they would go, though he got that little notch between his brows that said he knew exactly what he was doing and felt bad for lying to her. 

Huffing, she drew her cards to her chest and setting her elbows on the table, Hotch to her left with an amused smile drawing at his lips as he tried to catch some sleep on the way home from a case, though the sound of the two agents bickering gave him some inflight entertainment at least. 

“Oh, really?” She asked, daring him to repeat himself even though saying it the first time had been hard enough, and Spencer simply nodded with a small ‘Mhm’, “Alright, smart guy, if we’re playing it like that then I’m taking this card,” Bugsy said, pulling the ace of spades he had sitting beside the joker with a pointed look on her face, “And the reason I want this one and not the one next to it is because I know that's where you put the old maid,” 

Spencer swallowed, the tip of his nose turning a blush, as he grit his teeth together in annoyance, “I guess the joke is on you, Miss Prentiss. I don’t even have the old maid,” He said, forcing his voice not to quake, and he sounded somewhat believable, at least that’s what he thought until he saw her brow raise, and he knew he was fucked.  

“Yeah? Government names is it?” She asked again, giving him chance to fix his error, only he doubled down with a second nod, his lips pursed. Her finger shot out to point to the joker card, where she could only see the intricate pattern that matched every other in his hand, “So this isn’t the Old Maid?” 

Spencer blinked once, the two of them exchanging a heated look like they were waiting for the smallest of breaks in character, and his breathing even despite the fact it was under duress, his expression abnormally calm as the jet went entirely silent, “Yes,” 

“Bullshit,” He quickly collected his cards to his lap and scrambled to shuffle them well enough that she wouldn’t guess which one was the dead card, his scowl spreading over his face.

“You cheater, you must have seen my cards, there’s no way to count where I put the joker, that is entirely by chance-” Spencer snapped back, flipping them between his long, lithe fingers as Bugsy giggled into her hand. 

“Play nicely, boys and girls,” Rossi chided where he had his nose buried in the newspaper, only glancing up to see Spencer glaring at the girl who sat opposite him with a victorious smirk. 

“Face it, Spencer Reid. You might be good, but I’m better.” Derek bit his lip to stop himself from laughing where he was eavesdropping on their game on the seats behind them, and he thought he might have to take it to his deathbed that he and the younger girl had swapped Spencer's cards out the second he went to the bathroom. Or maybe save it for a rainy day, when he really needed leverage against the stubborn girl and let them squabble in peace. 

Bugsy didn't tell him until a year later, the week before she left for London.

[ofallthingsnasty]

If your inbox is open could I please request a yandere sae where he traps his Darling by getting them pregnant and also this is around the time where he kidnaps them and they get Stockholm Syndrome if you're uncomfortable with this feel free to ignore my request

hey hey!! sure it's pretty much always open 🤗 thank you for giving my brain something to chew on - this really tickled me bc he isn't necessarily the first character i think of when i think yandere bllk! a cold one, for sure 🥶

tags: yandere, sae is 20+, emotional abuse, baby trapping (no pronouns used for reader but they can get pregnant), noncon mention, smidge of unreliable narrator word count: 0.6k

Sae is one thing: selfish. He knows you're here against your will and he simply doesn't care. He gets what he wants. You won't ever know why exactly he picked you out of all the possible people to obsess over because he won't ever treat you like one would a spouse. He's blunt, he's brash, he's an asshole - even to you. He doesn't keep you small on purpose, Sae is just like that. Unlike some others, he doesn't criticize you to snuff out your self-esteem, he truly thinks what he says. You'll learn how to play by his rules and admittedly - he is fair, at least as far as he is concerned. Neither cruel nor sadistic, he simply expects you to conform and be perfect for him. Deviate from his vision for you and he'll let you know- but as long as you are good for him you won't hear a single word.

He actually strikes me as one of the few from Blue Lock who would choose to kidnap you - it's easier and keeps you by his side. He's pragmatic like that. And because Sae doesn't need your love - he simply takes what he wants - he doesn't care for all that lovey-dovey shit, either. Watch him simply lock you away even though you have never talked to each other. He's convinced you're perfect for him and that's enough. He really wastes no time. In his opinion, your predicament isn't all too bad, even beneficial. Isn't this what so many people strive for? Marry rich, be pampered for the rest of your days, no more worries, no more hurt? Really, you should be over the moon to be the spouse of a famous soccer player. He'll tell you as much; that you should be grateful for the roof over your head, that you'll never have to work another day in your life because of him, that you'll have everything you'll ever want - and that being kept like this is the trade-off, that he expect payment from time to time. All your fighting, your scratching, your crying - it doesn't matter to him. It's annoying, sure, but it won't stop him at all. (Although even Sae has his limits. If you keep screaming at him how you don't care for the designer clothes, the expensive furniture and his stupid house, he isn't above showing you what you're taking for granted right now. Some nice, quaint nights in the basement with little food and water and no clothes should set your head straight. Not cruel. Just pragmatic.)

And because he takes such good care of you, he deserves something else in return, doesn't he? A baby is perfect. It's easy to realize that dream - he's expecting sex from you regularly, anyway and never really bothers with birth control. In the beginning, he humored you a little by using condoms (to soften the blow, so to speak) but by now he simply doesn't care anymore. The thought of you pregnant with his child excites him more than he'd like to admit. It isn't necessarily about keeping or trapping you - he just wants to start a little family with you. (And maybe, just maybe, he is actually a tiny bit in love with you, not just obsessed.) He won't tell you of his decision, he simply fucks you more often. But you're smart enough to catch on, with time - too bad you don't stand a chance against a pro athlete when he bends you over for the tenth time this week and tracks your periods, waiting for your fertile window. You can only grit your teeth and take it, terrified of the day he actually knocks you up.

And as always, he doesn't get why you're making such a fuss; you only have to be good for him. He'll take care of you and your child, you'll see.

[marblemoonstones]

🩵 catharsis ~ chapter ten

main masterlist

series masterlist 

pairing: bts ot7 x reader

genre: collegestudentreader!au 

warnings: ❗️any characters in the story have nothing to do with their real life counterparts❗️f reader, reader with glasses, curse words

*lmk if i missed any*

word count: ~6.9k (longest i’ve ever written omg)

a/n: feeding you all with a loong chapter!! also, likes and comments motivate me to keep writing, so please let me know your thoughts! 🤍

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The next day I wake up at ten, thankfully being able to sleep in a bit later today. That and I also was not woken up by the maknaes. I stretch and rub my eyes then grab my glasses. 

I go about my mundane morning routine, showering and brushing my teeth and attempting to tame my hair. I slip into jeans and look for a sweatshirt. Just my luck, it’s laundry day for me and I don’t have any clean ones. 

I grab a t-shirt and change then go into Jungkook’s room. He’s at the film festival again so it’s dark. I switch on the lights and roll my eyes at his messy room. Stepping over piles of schoolwork and clothes (is that my tshirt?) I reach his closet. Sifting through I choose a navy blue sweatshirt with a tiny anchor embroidered in the corner. It’s one of my favorites of his and so soft to wear.

I change then head downstairs. Namjoon is at the table reading while drinking coffee and I can see Jimin and Hobi in the living room watching tv.

“Good morning Y/n,” Namjoon says, putting down his book. 

I smile. There’s something about him looking so domestic that makes me warm.

“Good morning Namjoon. Is everyone else at their events already?” I ask, grabbing a piece of toast and buttering it.

“Yep. Remind me, what time were you going to visit Tae?” He asks as I take a bite.

I chew and swallow then respond, “11:30 or so.” 

“Ah okay,” Namjoon says as Jimin and Hobi come over.

“Hey Y/n!” Jimin’s very energetic this morning, but that’s nothing new. 

What is new is that he gives me a giant hug and I laugh as I’m almost bowled over.

“Hi?” I ask, confused at why he’s so giddy. 

“Guess what?!” He asks, making me scrunch my brows.

“What?” It’s like talking to a five year old.

“I have a gift from Tae to you!” He cheers, grabbing my hand excitedly.

I feel warm at his touch, but try to ignore it, as I always do.

“That’s so sweet of you and Tae,” I say, thinking of how it was just yesterday that I got a new dress from Namjoon (even if Jungkook spilled coffee on it).

“Let’s go get it now!” Jimin pulls me gently to the stairs and I look at Hobi and Namjoon but they just wave us on, grinning.

“Is it another dress, Jimin?” I guess, based on how Taehyung is literally a fashion designer. 

“Nope. Tae wanted to do something different, so he and I came up with another idea.” We’re in front of Taehyung’s room and Jimin opens the door without a second thought. 

“Now, where did he put it?” He asks absentmindedly, searching through Taehyung’s desk drawers.

I just stand there awkwardly, unsure of what to do with myself.

“Aha! Here it is.” Jimin gives me a small box that looks suspiciously like a ring box.

“Well, open it!” Jimin urges.

I hesitantly open the velvet box, and there inside is a gorgeous ring. I gasp as the precious gems shine in the light of Taehyung’s chandelier. 

Jimin has a soft smile on his face, a stark contrast to his previous childlike energy.

“Do you like it?” He asks quietly, and I can feel him looking at me.

“It’s gorgeous,” I whisper, unsure of how I can even wear this properly. It’s meant for the rich main lead in a kdrama, not a broke college student like myself. 

“Let’s put it on.” 

Jimin takes it carefully out of the box and slips it onto my right ring finger. It’s perfectly snug there, and I can’t stop staring at the way the stones glisten and gleam in the warm light.

“You know, there’s a meaning behind each stone,” Jimin says. 

I look at the big stone, which so happens to be my birthstone, and the seven smaller ones nestled around it.

“The big one is your birthstone, obviously,” Jimin says, then points to the smaller ones around it, “And these are all of our birthstones. It took a while to make, but it was worth it.” 

Jimin looks at me and I look at him. We lean in closer, and my breath hitches. I study his face. The shape of his brows, the crinkle of his eyes and the deep color of them. The slope of his nose and his perfect pink lips. He’s so beautiful; an angel in both inside and out. 

He blinks and I snap out of my stupor. I lean back into normal proximity and thank him.

“Oh, Jimin. It’s so wonderful,” I say, trying to make my voice sound normal and not as if we were just about to kiss, “You and Tae are so creative.”

“I’m so glad you like it. Make sure to wear it to his gallery.” 

Jimin looks like he wants to say something else, but doesn’t. Instead he nods then leaves. 

I stand there looking at the ring. Specifically the seven stones that circle my birthstone. The shades of purple, white, and three hues of blue shine bright. This gift feels more meaningful than all the others. 

It’s almost like…a promise ring.

~

I drive to Tae’s gallery and park. The ring sparkles all the way there, and I decide it looks better in the sunlight.

I hop out of the car and lock it. Stowing the keys away in my purse I make my way into the fashion gallery. This event is honestly more casual than the art gallery that Namjoon and I went to yesterday so my jeans and Jungkook’s sweatshirt looks normal here. It’s funny to see everyone in casual clothing around avant-garde clothing, though.

I look at the signs and make my way to Tae’s gallery. Each designer has ten pieces they’re showing, and I pass some amazing pieces on my way to Tae’s. Just like the art gallery, the designers have the option to sell some (or all) of their clothing. 

Finally I see a familiar face. Scratch that, two familiar faces. What’s Jungkook doing here? 

Taehyung’s face lights up as he sees me and waves me over.

“Y/n!” 

I walk faster and Jungkook turns around and grins too.

“Hey guys!” I bounce on my toes, excited to see them.

They laugh and Jungkook says, “You’re probably wondering why I’m here, right Y/n?” 

I nod, and say “Yes! Wait, no, but not in a bad way. Just like curious because I thought you had to be at the film festival-“

“It’s all good Y/n. I’m here because…” Jungkook trails off and I want to smack him.

“Just spit it out!” I frustratedly say.

“Fine. Because I wanted to be,” he cheekily says.

I scoff at his answer.

“Wow, Y/n that ring looks so great on you!” Tae burst out, reaching and inspecting my finger. 

“Wait, you really went through it?” Asks Jungkook, also now looking at my finger.

“Yes. Don’t I have good taste, Kookie?” Taehyung boasts. 

“Fine. I will admit that it looks great, babe,” Jungkook admits, snapping a photo of it with my phone.

 I pull my hand away, embarrassed, then say, “Thank you both. Now can we look at Tae’s designs?” 

Jungkook and Taehyung cheekily grin at my reaction.

“Of course.”

Taehyung gives us a tour of his ten pieces.

“So, my theme for this collection is love,” he explains, walking us back to the start of his designs. 

“It’s so cliche,” Jungkook whispers loudly to me, making me stifle a giggle. Taehyung acts like he didn’t hear him and carries on.

“Each design is inspired by one of the boys, myself included. Because self-love is important too, right? But each design is more detailed than what a normal person would wear. The remaining two represent our love as a whole,” he says.

That’s so cool-wait. That’s only nine. What about the last one?

“Wow, I love that they inspired you. That’s so sweet,” I praise, still curious about the last piece.

“Thank you. Now, Y/n, I have a challenge for you,” Taehyung says, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“What?” I ask suspiciously.

“Try to guess which designs are inspired by each of my boyfriends,” Taehyung challenges.

I agree, only because we’re celebrating Taehyung’s designs so I feel bad saying no to him.

“Hmmm…” I wonder aloud. This should be easier than it is. My first guess is that the black and white ensemble represents Jungkook. It has his signature chunky boots, and I look closer and see that they are embroidered with thin silver thread.

“That one’s Jungkook.” I point and Taehyung claps his hands.

“That’s correct! Kookie has a very distinct style, so I’m honestly not surprised that you guessed his first.” We go over to the outfit as Taehyung explains more.

“I went with the black and white ensemble because it represents Kook’s duality. He may seem deep and dark, wearing black and having tattoos, but in reality he’s as pure at the color white, kind and caring.” Taehyung gives Jungkook a kiss on the cheek as Jungkook’s blushes at the description of his outfit.

“Stop it hyung,” he whines, but allows the older boy to pepper kisses on his face.

“You know you like it Kookie,” Taehyung says, squishing Jungkook’s cheeks.

“Just guess Y/n!” Jungkook exclaims in an effort to draw the attention away from him.

I scan the remaining outfits and point to the one that looks like a stylish rainbow exploded on it.

“That’s Hobi’s, right?” Only his could be so colorful.

“Correct! Our Hobi-hyung is a bright soul, so I tried to represent that with this piece. I incorporated his street style too,” Taehyung proudly states, showing me the chic yet hip hop-eque outfit. 

I guess next that the dark yet layered outfit is Yoongi. 

“Correct again! Yoongi-hyung’s was an interesting outfit to create,” Taehyung explains, “He has so many different levels and layers to him, like an onion. Some seem dark, yet when you peel them all back, he’s really just a generous and understanding soul.” It definitely represents Yoongi; he can be aloof at the beginning but once you get to know him he’s such a warm person.

It’s difficult to choose which one is Jin but I eventually settle on the one that is soft yet also sharp. 

“That’s Jin,” I say, hoping I’m correct. 

Jungkook whistles. 

“Damn, Y/n, I’m impressed. I even had difficulty figuring it out,” he says. 

“Yep that’s Jin-hyung,” Taehyung says, “His represents the delicate balance between his personality. He is a kind and caring person, but also has boundaries and has respect for himself.” 

Damn. Taehyung really captured the boys in all their deep personalities. 

“Is this one Namjoon?” The outfit has a sort of scholarly appearance, yet there’s a heavier feeling to it. 

“It is. Joon-hyung is a very intelligent person, yet he wears pressure on his back. He often feels that he has to provide and care for us more than the others because of his profession,” Taehyung explains. 

I must look confused because Jungkook elaborates.

“Namjoon-hyung is the only one of us that doesn’t have an ‘artsy’ career, per se. Because of that he feels the need to prove to us that he’s worthy of being in our creative relationship.”

What? That’s crazy.

“That is such a stupid reason to feel inferior for!” I exclaim, “He’s so smart and teaching is one of the hardest jobs out there! It also requires some sort of creativity, doesn’t it?” To think that brilliant and kind Namjoon feels this way is crazy.

“You’re absolutely right, Y/n. We’re so glad you think this too,” Jungkook says, looking me dead in the eyes. 

I stare back, coming to realize how dark his eyes are. They’re captivating me, pulling me in deeper and deeper until-

“Ahem.” 

Taehyung coughs and I jump, while Jungkook just continues to stare.

“Right…so I guess I need to choose which one is you and which one is Jimin,” I say uncomfortably, trying to ignore Jungkook’s prolonged staring. 

“Yep. Choose between these two.”

I study the outfits. They’re clearly a pair, one representing the day and the other the night. 

The day piece is dazzling, cream and honey hues blended together to create a show stopping outfit. There are crystals sewn together to make a sun pattern and if an outfit could glow, this would be it. There’s also a singular royal blue thread sewn in it, something I assume to represent the night.

If the day outfit is meant to glow, the night one is meant to sparkle. The deepest shade of navy catches the light and show the shimmers of the fabric. Deep jewel colored crystals make an abstract galaxy. Similarly to the day piece, the night one has a single golden thread running through it. 

“I think that Jimin is the sun piece and you’re the galaxy piece.” I’m unsure as I say this, but I’ve clearly made the right decision because Jungkook finally stops peering into my soul and breaks into a grin. 

I sigh a breath of relief.

“You’re really good at this, Y/n,” Taehyung says. 

“Explain the meaning behind them, Tae,” Jungkook urges.

Taehyung’s face becomes dreamy and he smiles softly.

“Well, Jiminie and I are soulmates. He’s the day to my night. I made the day piece to try to capture how bright and vibrant he is. He makes me so happy, and I wanted him to know he’s my sun.” 

My eyes trace Taehyung’s face and his expression. He’s irrevocably infatuated just simply speaking about his love. I feel my eyes well slightly, wondering just how one person can love another that much. 

“That’s the most beautiful thing,” I murmer, blinking my tears away.

“Thank you. I in many ways feel that I am not worthy of my Jiminie, but he continues to praise me even though I don’t think I deserve it,” Taehyung says, tearing his eyes away from the golden dress.

“Don’t say that, from what I’ve seen you two and everyone else in your guys’ relationship are perfect for each other. It’s as if the individual pieces of your souls came together to love one another.” I struggle to try to explain what I mean. 

Jungkook quirks his head.

“Say, Y/n, have you ever been in love before?” 

The question throws me off guard. Have I ever been in love before?

“Um, I’m not sure. That’s a pretty deep question,” I stutter out, even though I know the answer. 

No.

“Well, yeah, but I’m curious.” Jungkook shrugs.

Jungkook and Taehyung look at me now, waiting for an answer.

I attempt to give them one.

“I…don’t know if you can call it love, per se,” I start. “I maybe once thought I was in love, but it didn’t work out.” 

They look at each other, sympathy (or pity?) in their eyes.

“It’s alright, I understand. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” Jungkook apologizes. 

I turn back to the remaining dresses.

“It’s okay. Now, can I ask about the remaining dresses?” 

“Sure.” As Taehyung goes on to explain that two of the dresses represent his relationship with the boys, I try to ignore the deep pit of sadness in my heart.

~

After he explains I finally point to the last piece, asking what’s been on the tip of my tongue this whole time.

“Okay! Tell me what this is about!” I’m eager to find out the meaning of the ethereal looking dress. It’s honestly my favorite out of the bunch because of the style. It looks like a fairy dress and is made with the airiest material. It seems as if it’s floating, even while on the mannequin. 

Taehyung’s mouth quirks and he responds, “It’s a secret.”

“Whyyyy?” I whine, but Taehyung and Jungkook just laugh at my pouty expression.

“Because. I can’t tell you now, but I will eventually,” Taehyung promises.

“Fine,” I grumble, giving a look of distain to the dress. It may be beautiful (alright, it’s one of the most gorgeous dresses I’ve ever seen) but I just want to know why he made such a beautiful dress.

“Anyways, want to go to lunch?” Jungkook asks me.

We bid goodbye to Taehyung (who has to stay for the rest of the afternoon) and make our way outside to eat then finish our day.

~

Wednesday arrives with an early start. The film festival is today, and it’s an all day affair. There’s a meet and greet in the morning, a luncheon, a q and a in the afternoon, and finally the showing of the films. We all are going to all the events to support Jungkook and Jin. Jin was in Jungkook’s film as the lead, and I’m really excited to see the outcome. 

After getting ready I head downstairs. The hyungs are all sitting at the table having breakfast but the maknaes are nowhere in sight, which doesn’t surprise me. 

“Good morning, Y/n,” Jin greets, raising his coffee mug in greeting. Namjoon and Hobi repeat the message while Yoongi just grunts. 

“Good morning to you too, Yoodles,” I tease, enjoying the way he pulls himself back into his hoodie. 

“The maknaes are still sleeping, if you couldn’t already tell,” Hobi says.

I nod then sit down and start eating some French toast.

“I predict that Jungkook will be the last to get up because he’s so tired from the prep for today,” Namjoon says. 

That makes sense. I know that Jungkook took a break yesterday to visit Taehyung’s gallery and go out to lunch with me but this film is very important for his future career. 

After a couple minutes of a peaceful breakfast, Jimin and Taehyung come loudly down the stairs. 

“What time is it? Are we late?” Jimin asks, hastily buttoning his shirt while Taehyung pulls on his socks. 

“No you guys are fine,” Namjoon assures them, “Jungkook isn’t even awake yet.” 

They visibly relax. 

“Come eat,” I encourage, gesturing to the table.

They thank me then plop down tiredly. 

We all finish eating, having quiet conversations and just soaking in the morning sunlight streaming in from the windows. 

Jin checks his watch.

“Hmm. Someone needs to go wake Jungkook up or else he’ll be late. Any volunteers?” He asks.

Jimin does and we all clean up but save some french toast for Jungkook. 

“Everyone, meet back down here in 30! Team, break!” Hobi cheers, our sign to go get ready.

I too go upstairs to change into something nicer. I search through my closet and find my favorite sundress and put it on. I fix a bow in my hair and grab my wedges. Taehyung’s ring sparkles on my dresser, and I hesitate before gingerly slipping it on.

I’m checking my phone when I leave my room and bump into Yoongi.

“Yoongi? What’s up?” I ask, shoving my phone into my purse. 

“Hobi wanted me to tell you that you’re sitting shotgun,” Yoongi says, looking put out.

“Aww, is that why you came all the way over here?” I say, thinking about the short distance that it took for Yoongi to walk from his room to mine.

“Shut up. We leave in ten.” With that, Yoongi walks slowly off, looking like a tired middle aged father. 

I shake my head, grinning at the image in my head. Then I head downstairs to put on my shoes. 

“Here, let me,” Jin says, already waiting at the door. He looks good in a button up and nice jeans that hug his ass. Wait, what?

“Thanks Jin,” I say, surprised at the princess like treatment, but accept it anyways. It is a pain to put on taller shoes in a dress.

“Of course honey,” Jin says, going back to waiting by the door.

He’s says it like a casual nickname, except it feels intimate to me.

“Aish, these boys. I love them, I really do, but they are always running late. HURRY UP!” He yells. 

“Coming, coming!” Namjoon is rushing down with Yoongi and Hobi following close behind. 

“Where are the maknaes?” Jin asks them as they put their shoes on.

“Dunno. They all converged in Jungkook’s room and haven’t come out yet,” Hobi explains. 

“Goddamn it. We’re gonna to be late. I’ll go get them,” Jin says, shaking his head as he hastily takes his shoes off and storms upstairs. “YAH! MAKNAES!”

I chuckle then turn to Hobi.

“Yoongi over here told me I’m riding shotgun? I feel like that someone else should take it, not me,” I say. Why would I get a whole seat to myself if the boys are squished in the back?

“Because we can’t have you ruining your pretty outfit, precious,” he says, adjusting my bow in my hair.

“Oh. Well it’s really okay. I don’t want the boys to have to squish in the back,” I say as Jin comes down scolding the maknaes. 

“It’s fine, really. Don’t worry so much. Now, let’s go!” 

Before I can say another word Hobi ushers me out to the door and opens the car door for me. 

I try to protest again but he just gives me a look and I reluctantly get into.

Jungkook takes the wheel while Yoongi, Hobi, and Jimin take the back row. Jin, Namjoon, and Taehyung squeeze in the middle row.

“Sorry guys,” I say apologetically, turning to look at them squished in like sardines.

“It’s fine, sweetheart,” Yoongi says, putting his arm around Hobi. 

“Yeah! This way we get to be close to our loves,” Taehyung says, squeezing the life out of Jin, who just fondly rolls his eyes.

“Yep. So let’s go!” Jungkook peals out of the parking lot and I grab onto the door. 

“Oh yeah, Jungkook drives kind of crazy, just so you know,” Jimin says, nonchalantly looking out the window.

I knew that he drove a little wild because he’s driven me to class before, but I guess we’re in a rush today so he’s driving a bit crazier.

“Yeah…I know,” I say, trying not to react when Jungkook runs a yellow light.

“Yeah!” He says, grinning widely.

“Yah! Be careful, we don’t want you to crash the car before your film debut, okay?” Jin angrily says, but I can tell it’s just for show. Still, a warning is appreciated.

“I’m fine Jin-hyung. We’re almost there, so hold on!” Jungkook accelerates, which makes my heart also speed up.

Please let us get there in one piece, I think.

After many sharp turns and questionable decisions (at least in my book) we make it to the building. 

“Whew, that was a rush,” Hobi says, climbing out of the car.

“Oh whatever Hobi-hyung. I have to go get ready for the meet and greet, so see you guys soon!” Jungkook dashes off and we’re all left standing there.

“We have about an hour before the meet and greet starts, so let’s go look at the exhibits about the films,” Namjoon suggests.  

We walk over to the mini outside exhibit and go to Jungkook’s. It’s got a small synopsis of the film and a poster for it. His is called ‘Still With You’ and I get a sense of pride seeing his film company name of Golden Closet Films. 

“There’s Jin-hyung!” Taehyung points to the poster proudly and there’s Jin, looking as ethereal as ever dressed in a lavish prince outfit. He’s staring off into the distance in the silvery night as the moon shines down on him.

“Wow. Aren’t I handsome?” Jin jokes, mimicking his dreamy gaze that’s on the poster.

“Yeah yeah, we know. Now, let’s take a picture in front of our Jungkookie’s poster!” Hobi exclaims, passing his phone off to a stranger, “Excuse me, could you take our picture?” 

“I can,” I say, reaching for it but he shakes his head.

“No, you’re going to be in it silly,” he says, like it’s the most normal thing ever. 

“But-“

“No buts. You’ve been living with us long enough, just be in the picture.” They all insist so I squeeze in between Hobi and Jimin.

“Smile!” Says the person.

I grin as there’s a click. 

“Great! Now a silly one,” they say.

Everyone instantly makes a goofy face. I act surprised and give Jimin bunny ears.

Click! 

“These are so good! Thank you,” Hobi says, retrieving his phone. 

The stranger nods then walks away. We all gather around to look at the photos.

“Aww, we look so cute. All we’re missing is Kook,” says Taehyung.

Then we look at the silly picture.

“Hah! Look at Yoongi’s face!” Jin jabs his finger to the phot and I look. Yoongi’s deadpanning in the middle of the chaos that’s happening around him.

“He truly is a rock,” Jimin says, poking Yoongi’s cheek.

“Whatever,” Yoongi grumbles, “Let’s just look at the other exhibits.”

~

An hour later it’s time for the meet and greet. It’s basically just a party where the creators walk around and talk about their films. 

“Ooh they have mini sandwiches,” I say, beelining to the refreshments table. 

“I’ll come with you.” Yoongi, ever the introvert, shoos the other boys away to go find Jungkook so he can avoid people and come with me.

“You don’t have to come with me, I’m a big girl,” I say, amused.

“Just shut up. I need a break from those extroverts.” Yoongi rolls his eye and grabs a cup of punch and I get my mini sandwiches. 

“Not a big fan of parties?” I ask, enjoying the peaceful corner we have by the silk covered table. 

“What makes you say that?” He smirks as we survey the chatter 

and buzz around us. 

“Nothing.” 

We stand there in peace for a couple minutes before I sigh.

“Jungkook will probably come looking for us soon, so we should go before he finds us,” I say, throwing my plate away.

“Too late.” Yoongi tilts his head to the right and I hear a familiar voice.

“Why are you two hiding over here?” Jungkook’s voice is projected across the room and he comes over to us, dragging all the others boys with him. He’s all dressed up in a tux. Damn, he looks good. 

“No reason. Congrats Jungkookie,” Yoongi says smoothly finishing his punch and throwing it away.

“Thanks Yoongi-hyung. I’m so excited for you guys to see it!” Jungkook exclaims enthusiastically.

“Me too!” I say, “It’s going to be so amazing, just judging off the poster alone.”

“It turned out so well! Everything is exactly as I hoped it would be,” Jungkook says. 

“Excuse me, are you Jeon Jungkook?” A handsome older man is standing there, a smile on his face.

“Yes, I am.” Jungkook looks slightly shocked and I wonder who this man is.

“Well, I just wanted to say that I look forward to seeing your work. It looks very promising,” handsome man says. 

Jungkook bows his head, saying “Thank you Mr. Kim. This means so much coming from you.” 

Mr. Kim bows back then winks and takes his leave.

“Oh my god. I can’t believe that just happened!” Jungkook says, bouncing on his toes.

“I’m proud of you Kook, but who exactly was that?” I ask, curious at who made Jungkook so excited. 

“That’s Mr. Jongwon Kim. He’s a huge name in the film industry and also happens to be an alumni. He always comes to the film festival but only rarely takes interest in any film,” Jungkook says, intriguing us all, “For him to compliment my work is the highest honor.”

“Wow~our Jungkookie is talented!” Hobi compliments, giving Jungkook a quick kiss on the cheek. 

“Stop it hyung!” Jungkook whines, but smiles at Hobi’s affection. 

“Yeah, congrats Jungkook,” I say, amazed (but not really) at Jungkook’s reputation in the film industry. 

“Thanks Y/n,” Jungkook says, beaming proudly as the rest of the boys shower him with praises. 

~

The luncheon is next, but is a relatively boring affair. At least we get free food. And with Jungkook and Jin next to me they make it at least a little entertaining. Jungkook is constantly giving me little tidbits about the people around us (“That boy over there is a nepo baby.”) and Jin is criticizing the food (“This is too bland. What did they put in here, soap?”) 

I continuously laugh when I’m by them, but try my best to stifle it in order to not spit my food out. 

After the delicious but dreadful luncheon it’s time for the q and a portion of the day. The filmmakers sit at a long table in the front while the audience and various press members sit it in a crowd. It’s very much a press conference and a way for people to brag about their films. 

The boys’ and I sit in a row, looking proudly at Jungkook. I can tell he’s a bit nervous, but he’s doing his best.

“Alright, we’ll begin the q and a now! Remember to be respectful, we’re all here to appreciate the art these filmmakers have created!” The director says, then it’s time for the questions.

“This is a question for Frost Films. What inspired you to make your film?” The first question isn’t directed towards Jungkook, and I can tell he’s a bit relieved. 

The person answers the question and it continues on. 

Jungkook’s eyes drift over towards us and he makes eye contact with me. I smile at him and give him a thumbs up, then a heart. He smiles and looks away. 

“Okay! The next question is for Golden Closet Films.” We all perk up at that and Jungkook grabs his mic.

“So, what, or who, inspired Still With You?” 

The question is a simple one, yet an important one.

“I would say that my boyfriends definitely inspired my film,” Jungkook says, “Still With You is a story about everlasting love, hence the title. I hope that my boyfriends’ and I have everlasting love and will always stay with me.” 

The boys look at Jungkook adoringly and he looks back at them, love showing in his eyes. 

“That is such an inspirational story,” the interviewer says, “Thank you for sharing.”

Jungkook nods then shows a small shy smile as he glances down at the boys once again.

“I have a question for Golden Closet Films as well,” the next interviewer says, and the boys and I once again sit up.

“You said your film is about your boyfriends, plural tense. Aren’t you afraid that’s a bit…forward of you?” This interviewer sounds slightly offended, like Jungkook being gay or having multiple boyfriends is wrong.

Jungkook looks a little shocked and I can see the boys grow angry around me. 

“Oh hell no. I’m about to go up there.” Namjoon clenches his jaw as he says this.

Yoongi gives him a look and replies “Don’t you dare. Let him handle it.” 

Agonizing seconds pass before Jungkook responds.

“I…It’s my film,” says Jungkook hesitantly, “And I wanted to show my love for my boyfriends. If love is too forward, then I suggest you watch another film.” 

The boys start clapping and I do too. The audience joins in, and I see Jungkook take a sigh of relief. 

“Woo! That’s our Jungkookie!” Hobi whoops and I laugh. 

It quiets down again and the q and a continues on. Although there are still a few questions for Jungkook, none are offensive and are instead about the creative process for his film.

~

The q and a lasts longer than I think is necessary before we’re finally standing up and leaving.

“Whew. I thought I’d have to throw hands,” Taehyung whispers to me as he stretches his back.

“I know. That question was so rude,” I say quietly back as we start to walk to get ready to go see the films (yay more sitting…). 

“Honestly. Are you excited to see Jungkookie on the red carpet?” Taehyung asks as we make our way outside where the sun is hanging low in the sky.

“Wait, there’s a red carpet?” I ask, now understanding why Jungkook was so formally dressed.

“Yep. So we better take lots of pictures of Kookie,” says Jimin, barging in between Taehyung and I and linking his arms through ours. He starts skipping, making me and Taehyung join in. I think we look similar to the Wizard of Oz characters skipping down the yellow brick road.

“Oh yeah! Let’s see how our baby rocks the red carpet,” Hobi chimes in. 

“I’m sure he’ll do great, as he always does.” Namjoon is holding hands with Yoongi and they share a smile thinking about Jungkook. 

“That he does,” I say.

We reach the red carpet and there’s already a ton of people there. Photographers are lined up and I can’t see through the crowd.

“Here, Y/n, take this.” Namjoon gives me a lanyard and I put it on. We now can move up closer and we all go to a designated spot for special guests.

“Shouldn’t it just be you guys?” I ask, confused as to why I’m standing here. I should be with the general public. I’m not Jungkook’s girlfriend.

“No, you live with us. You’re a part of this family, Y/n, whether you want to believe it or not,” Namjoon says, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

“Yeah. And besides, Jungkook would kill us if you weren’t here,” Yoongi chimes in, casually coming to stand closer to me.

“Oh, well thanks guys.” I’m yet again wrestling with my thoughts. Jungkook cares. They care. Namjoon’s hand is on my shoulder. Yoongi is so close. 

“Sure, Y/n, anytime.” Namjoon smiles.

I’m about to respond when my attention is drawn to the red carpet where the crowd is roaring and the photographers are clicking their cameras nonstop. 

“It’s them!” Jimin says, trying to see. He cranes his neck so Taehyung grabs his waist and hoists him up a little.

“Hope you can see now, Jiminie,” he teases, enjoying Jimin squirm in his hold.

“Taehyung! Put me down!” He complains, wriggling like a worm until he’s let down and settles for going in the front so he can see better.

“Calm down you brats, Jungkook’s about to go.” Jin is looking to the nervous figure standing by the red carpet. 

Jungkook’s nibbling his lip slightly and is constantly adjusting his hair. A woman who is directing people comes over and says something to him. He nods, then straightens up, fixing his tuxedo and ruffling his hair one last time. 

The lady goes onto the red carpet as the person prior is ushered off. 

“The maker of the film Still With You by Golden Closet Films, Jeon Jungkook,” she states, then leaves and gestures for Jungkook to go on the carpet.

The crowd goes wild, us included. 

“JUNGKOOK! WE LOVE YOU!” We all yell in unison, making him grin as he strolls slowly to the middle, the image of confidence, despite being nervous mere moments earlier. 

Once in the middle he poses with the elegance of a model and straight up smirks into the cameras. Damn his fucking perfect face. My heart is having palpitations and I swear he looks at me for a brief second. Why do I feel like a crazy fangirl? 

“Jungkook!”

“Over here!”

“To the right!”

The photographers shout too many instructions at Jungkook, but he merely turns his body and head slowly, posing for all the cameras.

After a couple minutes of this, a man comes to usher Jungkook off. He waves as he leaves and when he passes by us he winks, but his eyes are trained on me. I look back into his dark ones and I swear that time slows down. But, soon enough, the roar of the crowd comes back and Jungkook’s gone inside.

“You good, Y/n?” Yoongi asks me, ever the observant one.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” I say, my eyes trained on the last spot where Jungkook was before he left. 

“Okay,” Yoongi says, turning back to the red carpet where another filmmaker is.

I do too, but can’t seem to focus on the person on it. All I can think about is Jungkook. How perfect he looked on the red carpet, how he looked so naturally like a model, how he should’ve been the film star instead of the one making it. 

You like him, you like him, the voice in your head taunts. You try to shake it off like normal but it doesn’t go away. And, with the way Jungkook was looking at you, you can’t deny that you feel something stronger than just a simple crush.

“Hey Y/n, you ready to go inside?” Jimin asks, and I blink. All the boys are staring at me and the crowd is thinned.

“Oh, yeah. Let’s go,” I say, trying to snap out of it. I can’t believe I zoned out so much.

The theatre is nothing but grand, with ornate details carve into the stone on the outside. Inside, the marble floor shines as we go to theatre seven where Jungkook’s film is being shown. 

“Tickets?” Asks the attendant standing next to Jungkook’s poster with Jin’s face. 

Jin produces seven tickets and hands them to the attendant.

“You may order food and drink inside. Enjoy.” She smiles as she pulls back the black velvet curtain. I feel like I’m about to go see an opera, not a film. 

“Thank you,”I say to her as I pass. 

Inside is grand, just as I expected. Plush crimson crushed velvet seats are set in neat rows, with tables attached to each one for food and drink. The screen is absolutely huge, and I can’t wait to see the film projected on it.

“We’re sitting right in the middle where the best spots are,” Jimin murmers into my ear. I suppress a shudder and nod.

“Jungkook!” Taehyung rushes over to where the lone figure is sitting in the middle row. 

“Tae!” He stands up and hugs him then grins at the rest of us, “I’m so excited for you guys to see it!” 

“We’re so excited too,” Hobi says, gesturing for us to file in to the row. I somehow end up between Jungkook and Jin. Great, the stars of the show. 

“Don’t you guys want to sit next to each other in case of pictures?” I ask them, getting ready to stand and switch.

“No, it’s fine, Y/n, sit,” Jungkook insists, laying his hand on top of mine and forcing me to sit back down.

I’m sat, and cross my arms at Jin’s chuckle. 

“Honey, don’t pout. Now, what food should we order?” He pulls out a fancy menu that I didn’t see before.

“Definitely popcorn, but is there anything else you want to eat, Y/n?” Jungkook asks, and I flip through my menu. Everything is supremely overpriced, and is that caviar? 

“Are you sure? Even the popcorn’s a lot,” I say, thinking how it better be the best thing I’ve put in my mouth if it costs that much. 

“I’m sure. And if you don’t want anything else then I’ll get you a large popcorn with extra butter and a medium cherry vanilla Dr. Pepper,” Jungkook declares. 

How does everyone know my drink order? And how did he know that I wanted extra butter? 

“Okay, but let me pay you back at the house.” I can’t believe that it costs so much, but with the sheer exterior of this place I should’ve expected this. 

“No, it’s fine. Besides, we all get it for free because we’re Jungkook’s guests and he’s a filmmaker,” Jin says, then promptly orders for him and me.

“Are you excited to see my film?” Jungkook asks me eagerly, leaning in and waiting intently for my answer.

“Yeah, I am!” I say, leaning slightly back so we’re not in each other’s personal space. 

“I’m glad. Did you have fun at the rest of the festival so far?” Jungkook asks me, leaning in again. 

“Um, yeah I did,” I say, still leaning slightly back.

“Mhm. And the after party is going to be awesome too.” By now Jungkook is leaning so far into my space that I am almost leaning against Jin.

“Woah, you okay there?” Jin asks me, gently holding my shoulders as I accidentally knock into his chest. His broad, muscular chest, my brain unhelpfully thinks. 

“Yeah, thanks Jin,” I mumble, trying to not sit up too much but also trying to not lie in Jin’s lap. 

“Sure, honey. Our food will be here soon, so why don’t you get comfortable?” Jin then gently helps me sit up and much to my dismay I am now face to face with Jungkook.

“You alright, Y/n?” Jungkook asks me, and he’s so close that he can probably hear the loud thumping of my heart. I can smell his cologne, a rich mix between sweet with a slightly more smoky scent underneath. It’s so unique that I feel drawn to him. I wonder if this is his normal cologne, or if I’m just really close to him. Yeah. I’m really close to him. Close enough to almost k-I blink before realizing he asked me a question.

“Sorry, what?” I ask, still dazed by his scent. 

“I asked if you were alr-“

“Hello, here are your refreshments. Please let us know if you need anything else. Enjoy the show!” The impeccably dressed waiters deliver our ‘refreshments’ and I take a piece of the popcorn. 

Okay, it might not be the best food I’ve ever put in my mouth but it’s pretty damn close. I’m afraid I’ll devour this all before the film even starts. 

“Is it good?” Jin asks me and I nod. 

The lights suddenly dim, and I can hear Jungkook whisper, “It’s finally starting.” 

a/n: i hate to leave you guys on a cliffhanger, but the next chapter is going to be a mini one that’s simply the film!! hope you enjoyed reading, this took me a hot minute to write but i’m so happy with how it came out. 🩷🫶🏼

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Helping Hand 10

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of divorce, manipulation, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Jonathan Pine, 40s reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You toss and turn, as much as you can with your injured shoulder. You fall asleep caught up in your exchange with Jonathan, replaying it until it distorts to dreamy nonsense. Just the sight of his face skewed in your subconscious.

When you wake, it is less than peaceful. You almost scream at agony tearing through your muscles. You must’ve rolled the wrong way. You manage to push yourself onto your back and grunt, wheezing out the pain as your eyes prick with tears.

You shake as you push yourself up, cradling your arm as you fix your sling to support it. It is unlike anything you've felt before. As if a rusty blade is sawing through your muscle.

You look down at your shirt, the borrow cotton tugging at your nerves. You still don't remember what happened to your uniform. Your assumption unsettles you too much to acknowledge. Would he really do that?

You stand slowly, moving at a snail's pace as you take in the unfamiliar place. You can't help but admire it. He keeps a fine house, the type you never could, the kind Andy nagged you for all those years.

You wander into the kitchen, as pristine and stylish as the rest of the house. It's like stepping into a lifestyle magazine. You stop short of the end of the counter and muse at propriety. It doesn't feel right to disturb the perfection, or as a guest to help yourself.

You turn back as a yawn greets you, wafting down the hall. Jonathan enters in only a towel, his blond hair speckled with beads of water as his skin glistens. He drops his arms and fixes the knot at his waist, clearing his throat as he gives a grin.

"Morning," he purrs, "I thought you'd still be asleep."

"Uh, no," you try to cross your arms out of habit and cry out.

"Oh, dear, do not tax yourself," he rushes closer as you shy away. Anyone with a body like his would be so unbothered in his half-naked state, "please, coffee? Tea? Whatever you've come in search of, I can take care of it."

You sigh and run your fingers along the seam of the sling. You chew your lip and your eyes list to the wall.

"Coffee, please," you relent. "Just something to get me going, then I'll be out of your hair."

"I am in no hurry to have you gone," he assures.

"But I should be," you sniff.

He sighs and goes to work. You listen as he opens and closes a cupboard, working swiftly at the counter. Soon the aroma of coffee brews and tickles your nose.

"Come, you should sit, it will be a few minutes," he gestures you into the hall, "after you."

You put your head down and go ahead of him. Even with the sling, you arm feels heavy. You step onto the runner that trims the hardwood and carefully pad across the embroidered pattern.

The world shifts suddenly and it's as if the rugs been pulled out from under you. Literally. You stumble forward, jarring your tortured muscles, twisting around desperately so you land on your hip with a startling force.

You lay on your side, whimpering as you peek down to your feet. You see the rug crumpled as Jonathan pulls his foot from atop it. He shows his teeth and tuts.

"Ah, no, darling," he nears and looks down at you, "my designer did mention I should put some trackpads under that to keep it in place."

You tremble as you try to sit up, your lower back struck with an electric pain. You writhe and clutch your shoulder, legs bent as you whine. It was an accident right, he wouldn't…

"Are you hurt?" He asks with enough concern to muffle your doubts. Why would he do that? No, you're just paranoid.

You push with hand, trying to sit up and yelp again. Your tears break through as you collapse. You shake your head.

"No, I'm… hurt."

"Darling, you really can't help yourself," he chuckles. "Here, we can't have you on the couch, you'll need proper support."

He kneels and scoops you up easily, lifting you to cradle you against his naked torso. You groan as your head lolls, the pain rippling in your vision. It's too much to think straight but you know this isn't right. You have bad luck but it can't be that bad.

"What are you doing?" You hiss.

"Taking you to bed," he says, "I've a guest room. I would've shown you earlier but I didn't want to overextend you."

"Ah, ah," you cry out, "I… I should see the doctor–"

"Hush hush, darling, we'll get you abed and figure all that out," he climbs the stairs, unhindered by your added weight.

You squeeze your eyes shut and gnash your teeth. You have no choice but to surrender to his control. You can't do much more than fold like a broken doll.

You open your eyes as he enters a room and you glance over at the crisp white bedding. He lays you over it, carefully pulling back the blanket and leaving it folded back beside you. He stands straight, looking down at you with his hands on his hips, smirking. He's smirking.

"Jonathan," you murmur, "why–"

"You've fallen. Very unfortunately," he tisks, "you're in no state to return to work or be alone."

"Why would you–"

"How could you trip so carelessly? It is only lucky I was here to assist you," he lifts a finger in reproach, "and to see you well."

"Jonathan…" you croak.

"Not to worry, I'll fetch the painkillers. Ah and your coffee, it should be ready," he declares as he wags his finger and struts to the door. He pauses and looks back over his shoulder, "and I'll be certain your ex-husband cannot impede your recovery. No calls."

He winks and sets back on his path. You gape after him, choking on agony as you cling to your shoulder. This can't be real.

[cirusthecitrus]

Can I ask Entrapta and Hordak for the character ask meme?

First impression: with Entrapta, she caught my eye even before the show premiered, when I saw the promo art. I fell in love with her design right away, though i didn't care much for her character at first, just didn't get the hype. It is only after she showed her vulnerable side, when she thought her friends abandoned her (but we knew it was not true!), thats when I got invested. Tuned in for the drama, stayed for the purble mad scientist

Same with Hordak. Didn't care for the character, loved the design. And I loved it specifically because he looked similar to the demon characters from my original story I was working on with a friend at the time. The long pointy ears, the nose, the glowing eyes, the clawed hands and sharp teeth, they also have wings just like Imp!

Oh and I always loved his relationship with Imp, it was so fun to watch these two interact :3

Impression now: to me personally Entrapta and Hordak are the real heart of the show. They are both integral to the story, they're interesting and fun in their own ways and their relationship is simply the best thing the show has to offer. Plus their personal journeys are so exquisitly tragic, love me some good angst

They're both my lil scrunklies, my beloved chew toys, one of my fave evil power couples. Though I gravitate more towards Hordak, he got that melancholic sad doe eyes rizz. And older brother issues (hes just like me fr🤝)

Favorite moment: oof but there are so many. 'Imperfection is beautiful' and 'I am Hordak' are obviously in my top 5, but I also want to mention some other ones

From entrapdak scenes - the one where they chat while sitting on Hordak's throne, the one where Hordak protects Entrapta from the portal explosion and the iconic "What have you done to me?" scene

As for their personal moments, I still giggle at Entrapta's "Do I need to explain math to you?🤨", also I can't get over her soft hum and lil smile when she remembers her lab partner in the portal reality

And with Hordak, again, love all the scenes where he's so casually adorable with Imp, also s4 moments when he's being obsessed with Entrapta (can't deside between the blushing scene and the 'crying over her' scene)

Idea for a story: For Entrapta I've been thinking about an au where she gets consumed by the Island before her friends find her, turning into this scary powerful monster who still has some of her free will. And she either escapes the island herself, becoming a threat to both the Horde and the rebellion (but eventually she and Hordak save each other with the power of love~), or she stays on BI and has this emotional fight with Adora and Bow where she gets to voice all her fears and grievances, but in the end gets defeated and comforted

For Hordak I have this idea about him meeting another clone with the same defect as him. Maybe he was just fresh out of a pod, and his condition only took a toll on him after the fall of Prime. I imagine Hordak being so gentle and protective of him, giving him all the love and understanding + recourses he was deprived of. I also imagine him finally not feeling so alinated when he's around his own kind, like a black sheep among his "perfect" able bodied brothers, because now he knows he's not the only one

Unpopular opinion: Entrapta's trauma should've been treated more seriously and not forgotten right after the Beast Island episode. S5 felt like s4 events were erased from everyone's memory. Also, it should've affected Entrapta more. Again, where are the conflicted feelings towards Hordak? It was never established that she found out the truth about her exile, that Hordak was lied to and had no idea about it. And where are the conflicted feelings towards Catra? The more I think about it, the more I hate that dumb apology and the fact that it was enough for Entrapta to forgive her, after everything Catra did to her and her loved ones

With Hordak... those are not quite common, but it is still tiring to see some fandom opinions where ppl critique this version of Hordak by calling him a loser and a lame villain/character, because he's not "badass" and "threatening" enough and is bad at his job as the leader of the Horde. Cause like... that's the point. Hordak was bad at this because he was not suited for this role, he is not a leader and thats not bad/contradicting writing, thats just his character trait. He was only trying to mimic the only role model he ever had in his life, trying to fit into Prime's shoes and obviously failing at it, because he's not Prime. He was also programmed to be an obedient slave with no wants or ambitions, not a dominant power hungry ruler, and I can only imagine what it took him to become as powerful and threatening as he is in the show. He did not belong on that throne, not because he's incompetent/useless or stupid or a bad warlord, but because choosing to become Lord Hordak, choosing to go all this way to try and prove himself worthy to his uncaring god was,on itself, his biggest mistake, not the right path for him. The Etherian Horde is like that because it's existence was a mistake

Favorite relationship: romantic? with each other. Platonic? Also with each other, but also -

For Entrapta - her friendship with Adora and Wrongie (also Scorpia, but only pre s5 Scorpia, like girl what happened...)

For Hordak - his bond with Imp and his relationship with Horde Prime (i just love how tragic and messed up it is okay?)

Favorite headcanon: idk if a have a favorite, there are all sorts of hcs, so i'll just focus on a random one I like

I do find the idea of Hordak being creeped out and lowkey haunted by Entrapta's cat painting hilarious, but I also like to think that the cat was her real pet, maybe a childhood pet even, and by keeping the painting she honors the memory of her old friend

[nicoforlifetrue]

I need to get the gangs designs out of my head like, right now so here we go! Au characters first then cannon guys spoilers below

Anyone the color crew considers a friend gets a matching jacket that green made with something representing them embroidered onto the old jackets, chosen has one and has it tied around his waist most of the time, everyone else wears it near 24/7

Victim: gray dead anime mom hair, scene kid from Spencer's in the 12s looking clothes, long sleeves striped under shirt with a t shirt on top, ripped up skinny jeans, has broken shackles around his wrists that act like the lasso tool but he doesn't use very often, a fire fox icon often sleeping on his shoulders he has three that act as attack dogs, soft rainy day blue eyes that are normally kept in that same dead anime mom half lidded state, he looks calm and approachable and loving after all that's how he gets you.

Chosen: black hair to his shoulders that he keeps in a bun, dyes red streaks into it, combat jacket three sizes too big, ripped up t shirt and jeans he never bothers to fix, wears a face mask when hiding his identity because his mouth is abnormally long and it freaks people out, has a locket with a family picture in it (it's a picture of Alan's face and cupped hands, the hollows are in his hands waving at the camera, Alan took his picture made it the computer background then took a screenshot of the boys, it was Alan's phone screen lock picture) everything he owns is burned at the hems because of his anger issues triggering his powers. Eyes glow red and are set into a permanent scowl, he has worry lines.

Dark: wild red hair he's never brushed in his life, he dyes black streaks in it, has one of those slutty leotard things that show the hips? You know what I mean, and combat pants, he has five virabands one of each limb, he made the first one just to give chosen a challenge but after seconds powers awakened he made more for when the kid has nightmares and needs to be held down so he doesn't hurt himself or anyone else with his powers going haywire, it only really works because the powers not concentrated, also has a locket with the family picture, he says it's for chosens sake but he stays up at night sometimes staring at it. Has black eyes but his pupils glow such a bright red their mistaken for red, all the hollows have sharp teeth but darks are especially sharp and he keeps them in a lazy grin, he has pronounced crows feet.

Second: orange wavy hair in a low short pony with it down it only reach's his shoulders, basic orange hoodie and well he does have his own clothes he more often then not is wearing some eclectic mess of stolen goods from his brothers, he likes Vic's shirts and darks pants the most and will try to get away with chosens jacket at any given opportunity, chosen trades his hair bands to get it back. Eyes glow a radioactive green, his lip is always busted from him chewing it, as are his cuticles from picking at them, is always a little wide eyed and sad looking even if he's over joyed just because his face has kind of settled like that, real case of "resting depression face"

Cannons turn!

Cannon second! Same hair as au, wearing the groups jacket and has is closed most of the time because he gets cold easy but takes it off to sleep, wears paint pants and shirt near always and there always covered in new color splash each day, convinced chosen to perce his ears and has a industrial one that he puts a spare pencil tool in after the box episode so he's never really disarmed, the other side has a little curser on a chain because he felt bad that Alan couldn't get a jacket. His eyes are still nuke green but they don't glow and his hands have calusus but he doesn't pick them like au infact he has them painted, heavy eye bags because he actually has to get up in the morning when the crew decides to have late night party's.

Red: fluffy red mop that he just cuts when ever it gets into his eyes, has the fellow headband to keep it off his scalp when exercising, cat ears, no really he has actual working cat ears and not normal ones, his jacket is hanging on for dear life and Is always at least a little off his shoulders even keeps it on when he sleeps, gym clothes even in the snow, bandages and gaze patches everywhere, his jacket hides the fact that he's fucking ripped because after the "blue punching obsidian" incident he got competitive and started working harder, he's up to diamond now. Eyes are whiskey colored have slits like a cats and he's sensitive to air changes just like cats are.

Blue: ties the group jacket like a cardigan around their neck when working in their garden or making potions so it doesn't get ruined, overalls are a farmers best friend, has the longest hair out of everyone reaching his knees, ties it into a bun for fights, braids it for potion making and sleep, and puts it in a ponytail the rest of the time, keeps it down when they plan on just hanging out with the guys. Has excessive nerve damage from the lava and can't feel if they've been cut or injured below their chest. Eyes are a very rich mahogany that gained purple flecks after a while of messing with potions, red asked Herobrine about it and it turns out to just be his body gaining immunity to most of the bad side affects potion making gives you (turns out his neather wart addiction is actually fairly common among potion makers because it helps build and keep those immunities which are important when experimenting)

Yellow: blond typical trans boy hair cut, meaning under shave with a quiff, has the jackets sleeves perpetually shrugged up his arms, only closes it when working on a more advanced machine, under shirt is stained red and he doesn't own a single pair of clean cargo jeans all of them have at least one mend in them. The bridge of his nose is stained red from rubbing there when he had redstone on his fingers, his fingers themselves are also permanently red, where's glasses near identical to Alan's, his eyes are a washed out pinkish rose, almost gray.

Green: for the longest time had an an uncontrolled frizzy mess of hair I'm talking untamable never seen coconut oil 3c, but after they sticks where introduced to dj, he managed to wrangle them into locks, DJ helps him braid them best he can if he ever wants to clean up but it's either dreads or spending hours everyday calming them. Only one who wares the crew jacket like a normal person, also the only one with a normal clean and sensible wardrobe in general, likes skirts but considering it's a bitch to fight in them only wears them when going out and knowing the others won't start a group bonding brawl, always has both head phones and earbuds on his person and is the only one too keep his phone intact and not broken. Eyes are hazel mixing green and gold with flecks of blue around the center, has audio processing issues and it helps him understand people if there's a background noise of some sort also fights better with a beat. Also has really bad tinnitus and always has, it's been made worse by recent fights though.

Purple: curly hair more of a 3b or 3a, keeps it in a single braid so it's easier to keep track of and care for, mango helps them with it in the mornings, the most recent one to get a jacket after the king stuff went down. Likes fancy and just nicer clothes like button ups and poets shirts and leggings, has bird wings because there mother was made for a stick flight animation test, but there weak and they can't fly like there mom can, they can hover and glide but they need an elytra to act as basically a sort of brace if they want to propel them selves, and even then they can't get to high speeds without rockets. Has orangy red autumn colored eyes like there mother.

[queer-ragnelle]

Huh, I wasn't aware the creator of Jeeves and Wooster wrote a Arthuriana. This is so cool!

On the other hand, what are the highlights you loved from the story? Any favorite quotes?

So many parts in Sir Agravaine to love! First of all the author name dropping Malory and Tennyson to call them out for only writing about supposedly handsome knights so so funny.

I had been under the impression, like, I presume, everybody else, that every Knight of the Round Table was a model of physical strength and beauty. Mallory says nothing to suggest the contrary. Nor does Tennyson. But apparently there were exceptions, of whom Sir Agravaine the Dolorous must have been the chief.

Get their asses!! Where my ugly boys at?! I also like that Agravaine feels melancholy sorry I do believe in my heart he's pathetic little soggy doggy who would be transformed in the right environment.

Handicapped in this manner, it is no wonder that he should feel sad and lonely in King Arthur's court.

His physical description is 10/10 but it's long so I'll just call attention to these parts. I HEART SHORT MEN WITH IMPERFECT TEETH!!!!!!!

Agravaine was a good deal better equipped than his contemporaries with grey matter, but his height in his socks was only five feet four ... his chin receded sharply from his lower lip, as if Nature, designing him, had had to leave off in a hurry and finish the job anyhow. The upper teeth, protruding, completed the resemblance to a nervous rabbit.

And he's got anxiety?? Perfect characterization no notes.

Sir Agravaine gulped. He was feeling more nervous than he had ever felt in his life.

I adore the lady Yvonne she's just existing and Agravaine is already worried about her impression of him and making up some bullshit in his head. We respect insecure characters in this house.

...he thought he had observed the damsel Yvonne frown as he rose. He groaned in spirit. This damsel, he felt, wanted the proper goods or none at all.

Then this right after made me chew a hole through my wall /pos

The fact was that Sir Agravaine had fallen in love at first sight. The moment he had caught a glimpse of the damsel Yvonne, he loved her devotedly. To others she seemed plain and unattractive. To him she was a Queen of Beauty.

"Love at first sight is bogus." WRONG!!!! It really does happen my buddy Agravaine is proof!! But seriously sometimes it really is like that two people are just drawn together and make a perfect match that nobody else could have been a replacement for one of them. It's delicious narrative frankly I'll hear nothing against the tried and true romance tropes they're beautiful. Now, without spoiling the full story, this might be one of my favorite lines in the whole thing because it's just so....knightly. Whereas Lancelot or Gawain might say they're not afraid as they charge into battle or whatever, Agravaine is very much afraid to fight this dragon. But he's going to do it anyway.

Then he looked at the damsel, and his mind was made up. What did death matter if he could serve her?

Brilliant. Spectacular. Show stopping. Wodehouse, I'm blowing you endless kisses. And Arthurian authors? More Agravaines like this please and thank you.

[hiatuswhore]

♕ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʇɐᴚ ʇǝǝɹʇS ǝɥ⊥—ᴀ ɢᴀᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ sɥʇnɹ⊥

♕ A/N: Hey all! Thank you so much for all the feedback it is a great motivator and always makes me smile. I am really enjoying writing this and I already have a vague idea of where I want it to go. Keep in mind we only have season one of HOTD and will not being getting season two for a while so I am going to try to incorporate the plot of the book with my own ideas. I do not have a set number of parts for this mini series yet. If you cannot make out the title it says The Prince and The Street Rat—A Game of Truths. I introduced a new character, I am picturing Daniel Sharman but that’s because I am in love with that man. Also who are your favorite characters, I LOVE older Rhaenyra (young her was cool but I feel like older Rhaenyra is such a mood. Anyhow enjoy, and tell me what you think!

♕ SUMMARY: The world works in mysterious ways and so does the residents of Kings Landing. One never knows what they find in the alleyways and rooftops. Whores, drunks, knights, thieves, sometimes even Princes.

♕ WORD COUNT: 4.5K

♕ WARNING: Cursing, Violence, Sexually Suggestive. HOTD Spoilers.

previous — Masterlist — next

Aemond did not return the next day or the day after that. You busy yourself with work from Mysaria, listening to the whispers of the King’s failing health. Viserys the Peaceful, what a joke. Everyone but seemingly the royal family prepares for the pending war.

You sit at your window, staring mindlessly at the rain that falls from the sky. The darkness looms over the city, the annoyingly bright torches of the castle teasing all who reside outside of it. Yet, where the darkness meets, the light lies in the perfect view of your window. An almost mercurial design.

The door opening does not phase you. The silver-haired Prince slowly enters his steps across your room, filling the silence.

“Quite a long conversation with your mother,” You scoff, ignoring his stare as he stands to your right.

“Much came up. I’—“ Aemond's nonchalant tone makes your jaw clench.

“Too busy to at least pass a message of assurance?” You narrow your eyes at the sight of him, near seething as a grimace holds your features.

“(Y/n) you are overreacting,” He says. You stumble back as your eyebrows furrow. His demeanor contradicts the previous conversation. “There is no war coming.”

“Dammit, Aemond, you let her do it again! So what, your mother said all would be well, and you just believed that?” You gawk, shaking your head as you watch him sigh.

“(Y/n)—“He sighs, rising to your feet as you pace, cracking the muscles in your knuckles.

“Aemond, your life is the last thing I have ever desired,” You whine. His hands capture your own with a patient stare. Neither of you says a word as you squirm beneath his gaze.

“I’ve come with your gift,” He says, revealing a forearm-length box. The top’s identical to the one from his mother. A stillness captures the room as you eye the box wearily before accepting it from his hands. You open slowly, gaping at the lustrous glow of the metallic. The handle carved skillfully into river-like ripples, paying homage to your bastard status.

“I—this is beautiful, but we must discuss—” You huff. Aemond merely takes your arm, disregarding your words. He guides you to the fireplace, careful to not reach too forward.

“Heat it up,” His tone’s commanding as he studies your face. You frown, chewing on your bottom lip as you turn toward the fire. The blade reveals fiery red lines forming intricate patterns. “Do you like it?”

“Aemond, you’re dodging my questions,” You suck your teeth, dropping your shoulders as he drops his gaze. His silence makes your stomach churn as you fail to blanket your despondency.

“(Y/n) it is only a dinner,” He says, his eyebrows furrowing as you run your hands down your gown.

“In what world do I agree to this willingly, Aemond?” You say, leaning down to capture his gaze. Despite the scowl that paints your features, Aemond says nothing. A pregnant pause follows; pulling away from him, you place the dagger on your desk. Back at your window, you sit, your legs bouncing incessantly.

“I really tried, but mother insisted. She expects you present in a week’s time—in the gown, she gifted you,” His shoulders fall at his wide with a doleful look in his eyes. He watches as you visibly sink, your mind stuck in an endless loop of the Red Keep corridors.

“You promised. No royal drama,” You swat away his hands, your eyebrows knit together.

“You’re impulsive and an over-thinker. A painfully dramatic combination. This dinner shall be easy for you—smile and drink,” He reasons. You scold yourself for knowing better than to befriend a Targaryen.

“Dramatic is an exaggeration. You are protected by your title. I am merely a bastard. So my worries are reasonable,” You push at his arms, frowning. “I have nothing that protects me.”

“I’ll protect you,” He says, squeezing your hand.

“Aemond,” You say, tilting your head, and he mirrors you. A dry chuckle leaves him as he says you worry far too much. “You worry too little. If I’m doing this, I want something in return.”

“A comfortable room, coin, perhaps safety and security?” Rolling your eyes at his jest, he chuckles before asking you to name your price. Biting the inside of your cheek, the high possibility of war unnerves you more than you dare to share with Aemond. Nevertheless, you mutter, you will get back to him on the topic as you inspect your new dagger. The weight’s unlike your cooking knife you keep handy.

“I could kill you, you know?” You say, inspecting it closely—a tired smile taking your lips. He pulls your other chair by the window, scooting closer as his finger lazily traces your knee.

“You could try,” He says. Leaning back, you turn your gaze to the fire. His eye stays on you, the soft hum of the fire giving you an ethereal glow.

“A bastard dining with the royal family. That’s something you don’t see every day,” You chuckle dryly, but a hearty laugh booms from Aemond.

“There was a time when I saw it every day,” He says, and you meet his eye rolling your own. You swing the dagger between your fingers easily, wearing a blank stare as Aemond watches you. The rest of the night continues in a quiet hum. You are uncertain when Aemond left or when you even climbed into bed. The following day drags without a word from the one-eyed Prince.

You stop by Daltis’ stand to find his son, Cayde. A smirk tugs at your lips, seeing the large metal crate in his hands.

“Lift me next? “You say, leaning on the wooden stand. Cayde chuckles, shaking his head, placing the crate down. “Just you today?”

“Yeah,” You nod, grinning ear to ear. Cayde unloads the crate behind the stand carefully. Amusement dances in his eyes at your mischievous smile.

“Where’s your royal shadow?” He asks, crossing his arms. He towers well above you.

“Why, jealous?” Then, tilting your head, you wet your lips.

“Of a Targaryen? Never. I like my simple life,” He scoffs. His eye travels from your tunic to the dagger on your hip. Shaking his head, another chuckle leaves him, “What can I do for you (Y/n)?”

“I need to talk to your Dad about traveling to Pentos,” You say, casually earning a frown.

“Does your shadow know about that?” He asks. You scoff, placing the usual rate for the travel arrangements on the table.

“Does it matter? I’m coming back. I’m looking to leave in two fortnights,” Cayde grabs the coins from the table, raising an eyebrow. He nods his head, pursing his lips. You pull back from leaning on the stand, bouncing on the balls of your feet. “Are you coming to Goran’s tonight?”

“Yeah. First round on you?” You walk away before he can continue. Despite your departure, he calls out, “First round on your Prince!”

Back in your room, you stare at the box beneath your bed. Aemond’s absence and a long time before meeting with Cayde leave you with your thoughts. Removing the gown from the box, the room proceeds to flip as you foolishly put it on. The front detailing’s meticulous, revealing a sliver of your chest. Clover-like patterns bind the slit, almost hiding it from view as the sleeves reach your wrists, and extra cloth hangs beautifully from your elbows. A walking message to Rhaenyra and her family—a pawn.

You nearly rip the dress as you struggle to remove it. Hastily fumbling with the clasp as though it burns your skin. Then, back in your tunic and pants, you abandon your room to the best seamstress you know. Daltis’s wife. Taliya welcomes you warmly into her home. You mirror her expression seeing many of Cayde’s features from his mother.

“Mother, I’m going to meet—“Cayde trails off at the sight of you. His mother stands holding a piece of thread around your midsection.

“Alright, dear. I will have it ready, I assure you,” Taliya says, taking your hands with her own. The corner of her eye crinkles as she smiles at you.

“You ready?” Cayde says, grinning ear to ear. He waits to follow you out. The night sky greets you both with a soft hum of nightlife chatter. People drink, laugh, and fuck unapologetically through the streets. You both navigate the crowd with an unflinching calm. “Hey, should we be worried about the succession? I don’t know how much your friend tells you.”

“Honestly, I am uncertain. Aemond blindly listens to his mother, who stays blissfully ignorant of all that is to likely come,” Cayde matches your pace perfectly. The torches set an orange glow beneath the night sky.

“I do not believe he likes me very much,” Cayde says, raising an eyebrow as a laugh leaves your lips.

“That is just Aemond. Ignore him,” You say, turning down an alley. The sound of loud music fills the dirt passage. Cayde knocks three times before Aryn’s face appears at the door. He gives you both a once-over before opening the door.

Cayde orders the first pitchers of ale as you both settle at a table. You listen intently as he explains his concern for the safety of King's Landing. You both speak over the music, just enough to hear the other.

“You are not alone in your fears,” You confess, placing your hand on his. He sips his drink, eyeing your hand. Your eyes scan the room—a woman laughs obnoxiously on a man’s lap as they speak with others sitting around them. A couple dances lovingly by the musicians, and the bartender moves at the speed of light to keep up with the growing crowd.

“What’s in Pentos?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. You pull back, taking a long sip of your ale.

“You know the rules of this business. No questions outside of the necessary,” You say. Taking another sip, Cayde rolls his eyes. ��Shall we play our game?”

“I’ve known you most of my life. What more could we possibly not know about each other?” Cayde questions, a grin growing on his lips as mischief dances in your eyes.

You sit up on your knees and narrow your eyes at his nod. Your gaze softens as your lips part, “You fear taking over your father's business.”

“I told you this; that’s cheating!” He says, shaking your head; you remind him he told you his father's intentions, not his own feelings.

“Drink,” Your smile widens in delight as Cayden begrudgingly brings his cup to his lips. You lean forward again, your ‘focusing’ stare pulling a chuckle from Cayde’s lips. “You—“

Trailing off after a few seconds, Cayde grins victoriously, “Too long, drink.”

You roll your eyes, raising your cup. He backs you into a corner with his first two questions, leaving you to drink for both. You both ping pong for a while, others within the room virtually disappearing. A mop of messy white hair pulls you both back into the room. Wearing a grin, he lazily blows a strand of hair from his face. The heavy bags blend seamlessly with the bloodshot of his eyes.

“What’s a place like this doing with a girl like you?” Aegon’s question earns an eye roll as he fills your pitcher with the contents of his own.

“You likely put the poets to shame your grace,” You raise an eyebrow as he closes his eyes, near shuddering.

“Say it again,” He coos, grimacing as you bring the pitcher to your lips and meet Cayde’s gaze. His knuckles turn white around his cup. Aegon opens his eyes, grinning near maniacally. He turns to Cayde, lifting his cup and bumping Cayde’s. “Come on, you two, I wanna play your little game. I’ll start—you two fucked.”

Neither of you moves as the Prince’s gaze bounces between you both. He chuckles darkly, reminding you both of the rules. After several seconds you bring the cup to your lips. Cayde hesitates before doing the same, an obnoxious laugh leaving Aegon.

He tauntingly mimics your tactic, narrowing his eyes at Cayde. The two lock in a silent stare before Aegon looks forward. He lets out a laugh as if he remembers something, “Mhmmmm. You’re in love with her.”

“I’m done playing,” Cayde’s baritone voice fills the silence as he slams his cup, rising to his feet. Your eyes flicker to Cayde, who glares at the unfazed Prince. The music stops as all around you watches. You lay your hand on your dagger as your heart pounds. Cayde heads for the door, halting as Aegon’s voice fills the silence.

His deviant smile gone, now wearing a chillingly calm demeanor, “Finish the game. You’re in love with her.”

Cayde’s back faces the both of you, and you glare at Aegon, who ignores you. He grabs Cayde’s cup holding it out as he turns back. Cayde snatches it from his hands, eliciting a quiet gasp as you watch him lift it to his lips.

“And you’re afraid my stiff—rather taciturn little brother will find out and rip you out, root and stem,” You rise to your feet before a word can leave your lips; he roughly grabs your face. He turns to you, his eyes boring into your own as he reveals nothing beneath his surface. “I am giddy with the news of your presence at court. No longer Aemond’s little discretion.”

“Enough,” You swat his hand away, tilting your head as he eyes you. Cayde storms out as Aegon sits back down. You stand gobsmacked as the entire room watches you. Swallowing thickly, you follow after Cayde, abandoning the tavern. The passageway to the streets reveals a blur of faces, but none of them are who you are searching for. You opt to return to the Inn Keep, uncertain what to say to Cayde after the night’s events.

You are sure Cayde avoids you avidly, the days following without seeing him. If Aemond knows of your time in the tavern with Aegon, he says nothing. The day of the supper arrives like a looming storm cloud.

You lay on your back, fiddling mindlessly with your coin pouch. The green gown sits beneath your bed, still in its box, awaiting the hour the Queens summons begins.

Sitting by the fireplace, Aemond pauses on his page. Re-reading the same section for the fourth time, his eye lands on you. Still fiddling with the coin pouch with an absent focus. Your nose crinkles, the skin crawling sensations pulling your gaze to the wayward Prince. His aloof expression and clenched jaw meet your furrowed eyebrows. Snickering at the face, he bares for the public.

“Your dramatic smolder-glare thing may work on others. But how can one expect me to be afraid of you when I know you cry like a blubbering baby,” You chuckle. He tilts his head, raising his eyebrow and sighing as you roll your eyes. “I’m rather nervous.”

“Are you? I never would have noticed,” Aemond hums, and you scoff, rising to your feet. You pull your riding pants off, rubbing your skin in mint oil. As the hour draws near, you know you must begin preparing. The crackling of the fire fills the silence. You sloppily unlace the tunic turning to Aemond, who almost stealthily averts his gaze.

“Certainly not Aemond the Honorable,” You tease, slipping on your nightgown. He fails to hide his sheepish pout while avoiding your gaze. Finally, he mutters sorry, earning a chuckle. “You wonder why I giggle when you intimidate people. If they only knew. Now you must go. I need to get ready. Do not start. Ser Barlo will escort me.”

Aemond chews his bottom lip in silent contemplation before rising to his feet. He stares at you, and you raise your eyebrows as he appears ready to speak; his lips part for a second before shutting.

“I will see you at supper,” You nod your head, grinning to yourself. At the window, you wait until his silver strands shine in the sun outside your window. Then, deftly abandoning the widow, you retrieve the Targaryen box beneath your bed. Supplanting the dress with a satiny blue gown from the crown's coin.

Your advent to the hall disseminates a silence as an orator announces your late arrival. The clench of Aemond’s jaw and the droll of his eye leaves you smirking at your machinations.

“My apologies for my tardiness, your grace. This invitation is a very high honor. I put much effort into an appropriate appearance to offer reverence to your statures,” You curtsy with perfect precision ignoring all the eyes on you while holding the Queen’s gaze. Her frayed smile contradicts her warm tone. She has you sit between Helaena and Aemond.

“That is a very lovely dress,” Helaena breaks the silence with a giddy smile. You return her fervor by mirroring her expression before taking a sip from your chalice. Across from you, Otto Hightower eyes you unabashed as you match his stare. His cold look matches his stern features—akin to Aemond’s observant nature. Helaena closely inspects the neckline of your gown, “The ripple detailing is quite beautiful.”

“Thank you, Princess. I thought it would pay great homage to my upbringing in such a foreign setting,” Your eyes cut to Alicent, who freezes down at her food. You turn back to Helaena, entertaining her inquisitive nature of your life beyond the Keep’s walls.

The room fills with steady chatter as you find yourself, much to Alicent’s chagrin, exchanging stories with Helaena. The Princess covers her lips as she struggles to contain her giggles as you describe Aemond’s struggle to climb your rooftop home. A frown captures you as her giggles immediately dissolve. Helaena stares forward in a sudden stupor. Beneath the table, her hand grabs your own, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“For only water can withstand the beast. Pride will drain it dry,” Your eyebrows furrow as she releases your hand, turning forward with an airy smile as if the last few seconds never came to pass. Whether the others ignore it or do not notice, you shrug off their ignorance.

“Princess—“Your whisper drowns away as the King rises from his chair. He removes his mask, revealing the decaying beneath, pleading for his family to come together. You find yourself fiddling beneath the table; glancing at Aemond, you avert your gaze as he watches you. Princess Rhaenyra rises to her feet, raising her cup. The King reattaches his mask with the help of his wife as his oldest child toasts to the Queen. While studying each of their faces, your gaze cuts back to Aemond. This time unrelenting at his commandeering stare. A common thread linking them, all of them fractured beyond repair. The King, wreaking glue that binds the lot of them. You cover your sigh with a sip of wine at the Queen’s toast, a meaningless gesture.

A dry chuckle leaves your lips, blanketing it with the clearing of your throat as Prince Jacaerys slams his hands against the table. Aegon returns to his seat while Aemond rises from his own, and a stillness accompanies the tension. You bite at your potatoes, meeting Otto’s easygoing gaze—no longer cold and calculating. He offers you a half nod, neither of your reacting to the brewing hostility. It’s almost as if you are the only two who understand the inevitability on the horizon. The Prince offers a tribute, uncertainty lingering as all resume sitting. You glance at Helaena with a frown as she whispers about beasts beneath boards. Once again, no one around the table acknowledges her.

“I would like to toast, first, to our guest (Y/n). You are as lovely and kind as my brother detailed. I desire more of your presence at court,” Helaena beams down at you as the table watches you. Offering a wry smile, you glare at Aemond’s amusement as all sip their cups. Helaena turns with a smile, “Also, to Baela and Rhaena. They’ll be married soon. It isn’t so bad he mostly just ignores you—except sometimes when he’s drunk.”

The King calls for music as you finish your wine. Prince Jacaerys offers his hand to Helaena, and the two abandon the table to dance. You nearly flinch as the younger Velaryon holds his hand at your side. He smiles sweetly, and you ignore how Aemond grits his teeth at the sight.

“My aunt is right. Your dress is lovely, my lady,” Prince Lucerys says as he guides you comfortably from his brother and aunt. You tower him by several inches, chuckling softly at his words.

“Thank you, Prince Lucerys, but I am no lady,” You say, falling in sync; you both jump opposite each other twice before locking arms.

“While that may be true, that does not incline me to treat you any less than,” His smile almost infectious as his genuineness shines. He misses how your own smile falters. How is this the same boy who took Aemond’s eye? The Velaryon Princes grin as they skillfully switch without disrupting the pace.

“My lady,” Jacaerys says, spinning you carefully as he pulls you an appropriate distance back. His hand ghosts cautiously near the small of your back. “Is this alright?”

“Of course, Prince Jacaerys,” You force a smile on your lips as your mind tries to make sense of your juxtaposed understanding. Jacaerys chuckles, insisting outside the ears of formality to only utilize his name. Chuckling softly, everything said beyond his request fails to reach you. How are they the monsters of Aemond’s youth? Jacaerys spins, returning you to his brother, who greets you gleefully. You cannot fight the giggle that bubbles in your throat.

“May I?” Princess Rhaenyra appears at your side, ruffling her son’s hair as he steps back, bowing respectfully.

“It has been a pleasure, Lady (Y/n). You are an excellent dance partner. I hope to find you at the next,” You curtsy, glancing at his mother, who beams at her son the same way Taliya does at Cayden. Disregarding the twist in your chest, you clasp your hands in front of you.

“We shall, Prince Lucerys. I am many things. Never an oath breaker,” Lucerys returns to his seat as his mother leads you further from the table, “You honor me, Princess. I deeply admire the prospect of a woman on the Iron Throne.”

“Thank you, my dear. Your support, as well as others, mean everything to my claim, but I come to you not of politics but regarding Ser Harwin Strong,” Your smile falters as her words as she locks your arms, and the two of you circle each other. Her resolve softens as she manages to keep you both on tempo, “He cared for you deeply, and I fear I have failed in maintaining his desires for your well-being. If you ever need for anything, dear girl, know you will always have a place with my family and me.”

Before you can process her words, the music halts at the King's pained groans. Guards carry home back to his chambers as you and Rhaenyra return to the table. At your seat, Aemond sits with his body turned toward you—his gaze bouncing from his eldest sister to you. Silence sits between you, and neither of you moves to break it.

The kitchen servants appear around you, carrying a giant roast pig in front of you. You stare at the roast fighting the urge to glance at Aemond, who willfully ignores its presence. Beneath the table, you reach out in search of his hand, but instead finding his knee, you awkwardly rest it there. You look up, meeting his gaze, and despite the music, the room almost silences around the two of you. The moment's brief, snickering rips you both from the calm. Lucerys’s laugh reaches across the table as he deliberately glances at his uncle. It’s nothing short of child-like stupidity—cruelty. You squeeze Aemond’s knee as he stares at his nephew, failing to draw him back to you.

“Final tribute. To the health of my nephews. Jace, Luke, and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise…” He trails off as if he imagines the fire he will light, his condescending tone sending an eeriness across the room. The Queen calls out Aemond’s name in a warning tone, but it does nothing to stop her son from playing with unspoken tensions, “Strong. Come, let us drain our cups to these Strong boys.”

You gaze at the guards that line the walls, their hands ghosting on the hilts of their swords. Then, at Jacaerys’ challenging tone, you slip a dinner knife beneath the table cloth, casually sipping your glass, “Why? It was only a compliment. Do you not think yourself strong?”

The sound of Jacaerys’s fist against Aemond’s face sets off many moving parts. Prince Daemon grabs Lucerys, who rises to his feet as you shift right, stopping Aegon from lunging for his nephew. Unfortunately, you cannot see all that occurs behind you as Aemond lets out a dry chuckle. Aegon glances down at the knife that halts his movements dangerously close to his crotch. A smirk takes his lips as you raise an eyebrow at his amusement.

“You only grow more interesting with time, lady (Y/n). But, if I may, your presence only grows the hunger for what some call my salaciousness,” He whispers, grimacing; you retract the knife and your close proximity as the guards defuse the tension.

“I do hope you are prepared to starve, your grace,” You grit your teeth as Aegon grabs your wrist, pulling you back in. The others blindly focus on the Velaryon Princes, who struggle against the guards holding them back. Aegon chuckles, tormenting you right beneath Aemond’s nose.

“Make no mistake (Y/n). I will have you. This game of cat and mouse only makes it more exciting, wouldn’t you say?” He wets his lips, scanning over your features with a heady stare. You rip your arm away, watching as he drinks in your lack of subservience. His dark machinations for your body reflect in his eyes as he studies every inch of you. Finally, you rise to your feet, grimacing at the Prince, garnering the attention of the Queen. She frowns, her eyes watching her eldest son with wistfulness.

“(Y/n),” Ser Barlo appears at your right, holding out his arm to escort you home. Aemond’s no longer in sight, and you do not look for him. Ser Barlo says nothing as you grip his arm tightly through the corridors, your head nearly spinning as you do your best to hold your composure. Only back in your room do you allow the quiet sobs to rattle your entire being. Ripping the dress from your body fervently, gripping yourself as you watch the gown burn in the fire. Silently cursing yourself for ever wearing it—for allowing yourself to fall in the clutches of the dragons.

[cosmxcmxrk]

Slowly posting my oneshots here, reminder that in my works characters are always aged up and consenting.

Marinette's sewing machine rumbled against her crafting table, her tongue perched between her lips as she pushed yards of fabric through the haste needle. A curious Tikki sat nearby, sorting sewing needles into a pin cushion.

She hummed as she reached the end, snipping the thread and pulling it out to look at it. Tikki flew to her side. "Is it everything you imagined it to be?"

She smiled and sighed happily. "Yes, Tikki. He's going to look amazing in this."

She folded the shirt and stuffed it in her bag before sprinting to the door to leave. Tikki scrambled to her side, finding her usual spot in Marinette's purse.

Adrien wrapped his plush, designer towel around his waist and combed at his slick hair in the mirror. He turned his face side to side, examining it.

He had just shaved yesterday and already golden specks peppered his jaw. He tsk'd his tongue before reaching into a drawer to pull out a small razor meant for this exact predicament.

"Chat Noir 1,000 years ago would be devastated to see you limit your beard potential." Plagg chided.

Adrien smirked. "That's not really my look. Besides, I can't hide this face behind a beard. Marinette needs-"

"You to pose for her website, yeah yeah. I thought you quit modeling."

Adrien took a powder sponge to his nose. "I told you before, I love modeling Marinette's designs. Adrien Agreste is exclusive to her handcrafted work now, plus I'd do anything for her."

Plagg sighed and shoved a piece of cheese into his gaping mouth, chewing obnoxiously. Adrien toned it out with a blow dryer. His phone buzzed against the marble counter, his eyes glancing down to squint at the message.

Lady of My Dreams✨: I'm on the way, mister model.

He smirked happily, heart thumping faster. He quickly tossed his hair around, wishing it would dry faster.

Marinette rung the doorbell to the Agreste mansion, the gate promptly opening. "The Gorilla" stood at the front door with the same displeased expression.

"Good morning!" She said happily as she passed him by, handing him a bag of fresh warm croissants. He cracked a smile and nodded.

She happily skipped up the stairs, clutching the bag containing the newly crafted outfit she made for her boyfriend. She reached the top step and raised her knuckles to knock at the tall, black door.

Before she could make a sound, the door cracked open. Adrien peaked around and looked down happily at his little seamstress. "Hey, Bugaboo."Marinette looked up with red cheeks and smiled.

He snickered and pulled her in quickly by the shoulders. Her hands immediately clung to his firm neck as they leaned towards each other for a kiss. They stepped back into the room, sharing praiseful greetings and loving smooches.

It took only a few more seconds for her to realize her Chat was only wearing a bath towel placed so low on his waist it was almost indecent. Her hands suddenly felt hot against his bare skin, she looked him up and down and stammered.

Adrien laughed and gave her a smug glance. "Sorry, M'Lady. Putting on clothes seemed redundant."

She ran her eyes down his happy trail, the smallest patch of blonde hairs poking out at the top. Her legs stiffened, teeth clenched. "T-This early in the morning?" She said quietly.

"What was that?" He asked.

Her head snapped back to his. Her eyes were blown with bewilderment. "Nothing! You just...should really put some clothes on before I explode!" She shoved the bag into his hands and pushed him into the bathroom.

He snickered at her reaction and shut the door reluctantly. They had seen each other naked several times before, but he loved how she always became incredibly flustered when her eyes met his bare skin.

She walked around in a circle, fanning her face. That conniving cat always found ways to mess with her and tease her relentlessly. The door opened and she turned around quickly trying to play it cool.

He stepped out, striking silly poses. His face was plastered with an impressed smile. "My personal designer once again hits the nail on the head."

Marinette's eyes were glazed over with infatuation. "Woooooow." She cooed out with hands clasped together.

She was ogling, gawking. Her brain wasn't on the same plane of existence anymore. He looked at her smugly. "Looks like the bugs in a trance again."

She pulled out her phone and started snapping a few photos. "I'm changing my fashion website into a blog of just photos of you." She joked.

He snickered. "You'd get so much traffic it'd crash."

She gasped and widened her eyes. "You're right! I have to keep these for myself!" She continued snapping at different angles.

She thought about how incredibly lucky she was. She of course had always kept photos of the model on her walls, computer, phone, etc. but nobody got to see all of the photos she took for her website but her. The thought made her giddy, stomach fluttering.

As he moved his arms, the bottom of the shirt rose, exposing his mid-drift. She stared at the top of his v-line, biting her tongue. His stomach was hard and tan, his hip muscles poking over the hem of the shorts.

A sudden, erotic thought disturbed her focus causing her to freeze. Adrien looked at her perplexed and stopped posing. "Everything okay?"

The thought of Adrien not only posing for just her, but posing with skin showing, perhaps nude, giving her a brain wave. She thought of all of the scant poses she could make him do. Touching himse-

"Earth to Marinette!" He said waving his hand in front of her face.

She looked up at him with a sheepish look. "Sorry...I was thinking about something..."

Adrien knew what that meant. This wasn't the first time she daydreamed while he modeled for her. He smiled down at her slyly and pushed her phone down.

"Care to share?" He said softly.

She dug her toes into the floor anxiously. "Just the u-usual..."

He stepped closer, placing his hands on her hips. "You're getting worked up from taking photos of me again, aren't you, Little Bug?"

She hummed at the nickname, feeling hot where he touched her. "I...think I got enough photos." She said looking up at him wantonly.

He smirked and stepped away, walking toward the couch and sitting down, patting the cushion next to him for her sit. She followed suite, sitting close to him and handing him the phone.

She didn't bother looking, knowing they were flawless, all she could look at was the chiseled side profile of her Chat. He also, did not care too much about the quality of the photos, wanting to focus on his lady.

"Maybe I need to take some photos of you next time." He said turning his head to look at her.

Their faces were only centimeters apart now. She couldn't help but admire his features in her head. His eyes were like twin emerald jewels, lips like silky cherry blossom petals. She loved how clean he smelled, and how petite she felt next to him.

"You're so handsome, you know that?" She said with a blush developing, reaching her hands up to cup his face.

He smirked as he watched her eyes dart to his lips then back at his eyes. Her lashes were long and her pupils were shiny. He squeezed the top of her thigh, trying his hardest not to pounce her.

"Enlighten me, M'Lady." He said in a hushed tone.

Marinette pulled him closer to her by the collar of the handcrafted shirt, with both hands. She looked down at his peach colored lips with half lidded eyes one last time before attaching hers to them. He kissed back eagerly, bringing a hand up to hold her wrist as she held his neck.

The kiss was slow, and passionate. Marinette felt her body heat up as they made out at such a pace. Her abdomen swirled, letting herself know she needed more.

She hummed at how enchanting his mouth felt on her own. There was nothing more delicate than the dance of her and his lips. Adrien always liked to tell himself they were made for his in the pique of his late night thoughts.

Adrien nipped softly at her top lip as she pulled away for a second, only to go back in immediately. He lowered both hands down her sides and gripped her hips, pulling her closer to him, chest to chest.

He felt her hum in delight into the smooch. The feeling of her touch was certainly something he was accustomed to, but it still made his blood run hot. He grunted at the tightness of his pants, cursing himself for being so incredibly whipped for Marinette.

She slid her hands higher, gripping onto his golden hairs, her favorite spot. He felt a shiver run up his spine at the soft touches of her fingers. "I love it when you touch me like that." He whispered between a kiss.

She moaned in response, tangling her fingers further into it, guiding his head against hers. Without taking his lips away from hers, he leaned her back onto the couch. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his torso.

He continued exploring her waist with his hands, finger pads running along the soft skin of her stomach and hips. Her body twitching in response to the cold metal of his ring grazing her skin.

He felt her begin to impatiently rock her hips against his. He grunted at the slight friction of her ass on his hardening dick. The movement of their mouths against one another becoming slightly quicker, and wetter.

His hands made their way higher, snaking under her shirt. He traced the delicate lines of the lace on her bralette, searching for the peaks of her nipples. She moaned lightly as he thumbed over them, arching her back at the sensation.

He pulled away from her lips, immediately going back down on the side of her mouth. She rubbed her hands back down his neck, slipping them into his shirt, slightly scratching at the skin of his upper back and shoulders.

He kissed softly down her jawline to her neck, grasping the fabric of her bralette and pulling it down gently. She gasped at the feeling of her hardening nipples being freed, being teased by the fabric of her shirt.

He gave the sensitive spot on her neck a pressed smooch, eliciting a moan. He pulled away his face and looked at her with lustful eyes.

"You make the sweetest sounds for me." He said quietly.

He kept the intense eye contact as he pulled her shirt up. She blushed, tightening her legs around him. He smirked before lowering his mouth to her right bud, giving it a kiss.

The heat of his mouth, and the soft wetness of his lips on her nipple made her close her eyes, scrunching up her eyebrows. She bit her bottom lip lightly, trying to contain her moans. He knew how much she loved when he sucked her nipples, and her stubbornness to moan just spurred him on even more.

He planted another open mouthed smooch on the soft pink skin, then swirled his tongue around the bud softly. She leaned her head back, back lifting higher off the couch.

"Ah! A-Adrien..." She gasped.

"I could do this for hours." He grunted before closing his mouth around it, sucking it softly, simultaneously flicking his tongue at it inside his mouth.

She finally put her pride aside, moaning and grinding herself harder into his clothed, neglected dick. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, moving his hips with hers as he sucked greedily on her nipple.

"I l-love it when you kiss me there, Chat." She moaned, pulling at his hair.

He didn't need her words of validation to know she enjoyed it. He gave the now swollen bud a hard suck, pulling it gently then releasing it. He kissed his way over to the left one beginning the same maneuvers. He pulled his right hand loose and brought it up to play with the sensitive bud as he worked his mouth on the other.

She wiggled in his arms, feeling overwhelmed by his touch. She felt like she could cum just from him doing this alone. And so could he.

He finally pulled away from the left with a pop and sat up, placing both hands on her chest to thumb the tender buds. She looked at him with a lewd face, squirming in pleasure. He loved how sexy she looked with wet, swollen nipples, and even more were the sounds coming from her mouth.

He felt another painful twitch from his shorts and lowered his hands down her waist. He latched his fingers onto the hem of her pants, pulling at them. She lifted her hips slightly to allow it, the cool air against her skin giving her immediate goosebumps.

He pulled both her pink capris and panties off in one go, tossing them to the side of the couch, then went for the askew bralette and shirt. He knew she always felt embarrassed, but he loved when she was stark naked in front of him leaving him in his clothes.

He felt his stomach flutter at the sight, and his cheeks went red. He leaned down to reattach his lips with hers, her kissing back with need. The feeling of her naked heat against him was almost too much for him the bear.

He pulled away from the kiss to look down at her body, moist folds staining the material of his shorts. He grunted and looked back up to her face, which was painted with slight embarrassment and full arousal.

"You take my breath away." He praised, bringing a thumb to her cheek.

She brought her hands to the bottom of his shirt and began lifting it upward. "Take away mine too, Chat."

He loved how needy she sounded, and happily aided her in stripping him of the shirt she worked so hard on. She leaned back on her elbows, and watched in awe as her boyfriend's skin stretched over his abs and arm muscles as he sat up to lift the shirt over his head.

He leaned back down and placed his hands on her knees. She whimpered as she looked down at his hand as he rubbed it down her thigh to the aching lips of her pussy.

He leaned his face down, nearly touching noses with her as he lowered three fingers to her vulva, feeling around the slick folds. She wrapped her hand around his wrist tightly as he rubbed the digits into her clit.

He paid close attention to the way her body reacted to his touch. Her legs shook slightly, breath catching when his finger completed a circle.

She ground her hips into his touch, wanting more friction. She could feel her entrance fluttering, begging to be filled by his thick tan fingers. Her stomach churned at the thought.

"Adrien...please finger me." She moaned, pulling his hand lower.

He muttered a curse under his breath, loving the way she was looking at him with such intensity and lust. He obliged, carefully pushing two slicked fingers inside her entrance.

She pursed her lips together, moaning at the sensation, squeezing his wrist. He started a slow pace, massaging his finger pads along her soaked walls. His dick was incredibly jealous of his hand, causing him to grit his teeth at the ache.

She noticed the action, mentally punching herself for being so selfish. She took her other hand to his belt buckle, doing her best to unlatch it with one hand.

His fingers found the soft, textured spot deep inside her, and immediately began thrusting them up into it at a rougher angle. Her body jolted back with each thrust of his hand, moans turning more into cries of pleasure.

In the midst of her immense arousal, she was able to free his dick of his shorts. She matched the pace of his fingers, pumping his tip that was dripping with precum. He let out a deep, relieving groan.

"Fuck, M'Lady. You turn me on." He growled.

They both continued staring wantonly into one another's eyes as they worked their hands on each other. He pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes squeezing shut. She had only been touching him for a minute, and he already felt his orgasm approaching.

The feel of his girth in her hands made her squirm, her body becoming impatient. She stared down at the twitching organ, admiring the thick vein that ran up the shaft.

"I want you inside me, Adrien. I want your cock to make me cum." She said softly.

He felt his head spin at the words, and the sounds she made following. Her legs tightened around his hand, her thumb rubbing a circle into the slit of his dick. He tensed his stomach trying his hardest to hold back his orgasm.

"As you wish, M'Lady."

He pulled his fingers away, opening her legs. She brought both of her hands to his waist, gripping the hard muscles of his stomach. He pushed his shaft down with his thumb, pressing slowly into her.

They both moaned at the feeling, already overly sensitive from the foreplay. He leaned down, meeting stomachs with her, elbows on either side of her head. He placed a hand on the side of her face, thumb locking under her jaw, rocking into her at a slow, but forceful pace. She brought her arms up to wrap around his neck, leaning her head back and closing her eyes.

He brought his head down to attach his mouth to her exposed neck, biting down lightly as he thrusted. He could feel her legs shaking harshly against his sides. Not only were her moans delightful to hear, but being able to feel them on his lips from her throat made it all the better.

His dick was throbbing, begging to be relieved. The pace of his thrusts were slower, more sensual, and it felt incredible for the two of them. The build up was slow and exhilarating. As much as he loved pounding Marinette until she saw stars, it was just as fun if not more to rock his cock into her, feeling up every inch of her insides.

She loosened one hand and laid it back to reach for his that was resting beside her head. He intertwined his fingers with hers tightly, holding her hand down above her head.

He groaned after every thrust inside, his pelvis hitting flat against her mons. Her breath escaped her lungs, loving how deep he was, tip pressing firmly against her erogenous zone. Her walls fluttered around him, the two not being able to hold back any noise that escaped their lips. It was euphoric.

Her whole body squirmed, the pleasure becoming overwhelming. She felt her body continuously contracting, orgasming over and over. The pressure of his body on hers kept her from spasming about. She could feel his hips sputtering, he pulled his mouth away from her neck to look her in the eyes.

"I can't last much longer, Bug. You feel too good." He groaned feeling her insides squeeze him tightly.

"Cum inside m-me, Adrien. I want it." She gasped out. She ground her hips up against him with fervor, getting a high from the feeling.

He moaned at a higher pitch, grinding harshly into her, hips circling. "F-Fuck, ah...I'm cumming, Marinette."

She squealed as he filled her, fingers digging into his shoulders. He continued grinding as he came, body convulsing against hers. She watched him with awe in her eyes as he orgasmed, face flushed and eyes squeezed shut.

He finally pulled himself out, dick twitching hard, cum still spurting out onto her stomach. He ground his dick into her folds, cursing at the pleasure.

She giggled, admiring the sight of it. "Wow, Kitty." She gawked.

"That was fucking amazing." He laughed, wiping his forehead of the light sweat that percolated.

She pushed her hips up into him, feening off the friction on her clit. His breathing settled as she ran her hands along his pecs. "I don't think I've ever cum so many times in a row." She said with embarrassment in her voice.

He gave her a smirk. "Nothings impawssible, M'Lady."

She blushed hard, pounding his chest with her hands. "You seriously have the worst comedic timing!"

"I know you love it." He leaned, down pecking her cheek relentlessly.

She would never admit it, but she did. She melted into him, wishing he would never stop. And he didn't. His playful pecks turned into loving smooches against her flushed cheeks.

She pulled his face away by his hair and turned to look at him and gave him a sheepish look, pulling him back down to kiss her lips. An action he would never turn down.

They instantly began grinding against one another again, kissing harshly. They would always want more of each other, nothing ever felt like enough.

Adrien broke the kiss to groan. "Goddamnit." He muttered.

Marinette giggled. "What?"

She didn't have to ask to know, because she could feel it against her stomach. He looked at her embarrassed. She smiled and pecked his nose.

"You know I want it too, Kitty." She whispered, leaning back in to smooch his upper lip.

He cocked an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

He sat up, pulling her up and flipping her around onto her stomach. He grabbed her by the hips and lifted her onto her knees, ass in the air. She gasped at the sudden movement and looked back at him from over her shoulder.

"I think you'll have to remind me, Little Bug." He grabbed his dick, dragging the tip up her folds from behind.

She gripped the cushion of the couch, wishing he'd just put it in without the teasing. "I always want you, my love. I love it when you fuck me." She wiggled her ass against him, desperately wanting him to put it back in.

He gulped at the sight, placing both hands on her hips and pressing her firmly into the couch. He lined himself up to her and pushed the tip in teasingly. She smiled back at him with a moan.

"Good girl." He praised before slamming himself into her, immediately thrusting at a fast pace.

She squealed, toes curling at the sudden pressure against her insides. "Fuck, yes!" She screamed throwing her head back and squeezing her eyebrows up in pleasure.

"Damn, Bug. Is this what you want?" He grunted.

The sudden change in the mood of the room felt exhilarating. Her body was going limp, all she could focus on was how amazing his cock felt ramming into her guts. "Y-yes! I love it!"

"Fuck, you like it when your kitty fucks you hard, huh?" He growled, becoming high off the feeling.

The words sent lightening up her spine, causing her to squeeze her knees together, eyes rolling back in her head. She was a rag doll at this point, completely merciless to him.

Adrien felt mesmerized as he watched her lips wrap around him, pulling him in after each thrust. The way he felt in this moment was so different from a few minutes ago, like his brain switched from pure love to aggressive lust.

She tried her best to rock back on him, body jolting forward with each thrust. His hands were digging harshly into her lower back, causing her to arch downwards into the couch.

He groaned, biting down on his lip before reaching down to pull her up by the arms. She reached an arm behind her and latched it onto his neck, the other holding herself up. He kept one hand on her waist, the other wrapped around her front to grip onto her stomach.

He pressed the hand into her abdomen, fucking into her at a deeper angle. She tightened her grip on his hair. "You're so good at fucking me, Adrien." She moaned with a love drunk smile.

He leaned his face close to hers as he felt the warm sensation in his stomach build. "You're so good at taking me, Marinette."

She felt herself clench around him, wanting desperately to release. She rocked herself back on him. "Oh God, I wanna cum, Chat! I love your cock inside me! Don't s-stop!" She moaned.

Adrien kept his gaze on her face, resting his head on her shoulder. He nudged his mouth against her ear and nipped at the skin. "The way you're squeezing my dick is fucking amazing." He growled.

She moaned loudly, a shiver running up her spine as his breath hit her ear. His tongue teased at her nape, throwing her closer to the edge. Her legs were shaking harshly, barely being able to hold herself up. "I-I'm cumming!" She squealed.

Adrien lowered the hand on her abdomen lower, reaching greedily for her vulva. He dipped his hands below her folds, massaging softly at her clit. She screamed, feeling overstimulated as she orgasmed again. He continued his actions, knowing she thoroughly enjoyed being fucked senseless.

Her slick dripped erotically down his shaft, the warmth of it eliciting a deep groan from Adrien. He took both hands to her hips, pulling her down on him as he reached his own orgasm. Her upper body fell forward, her arms barely able to hold herself up as he came deep inside her.

She looked back at him with a blown out expression. Her legs twitched hard, fingers gripping the cushions to where her knuckles were turning white. He pulled out slowly, watching intently as his and her essence poured down her inner thighs.

"You need to make me shirts more often if this is what it entails." He joked.

She smirked tiredly. "Why do you think I want you to model my designs?"

Adrien pushed her hips back down to lay on her side, making room for himself to lie next to her. She immediately pulled herself closer to him, placing her hand on his jaw to trace her fingers along his skin.

"I'm going to need another shower." Adrien said breaking the silence.

Marinette giggled and kissed his nose. "Are you implying what I think you're implying?"

Adrien teased at her hips causing her to gasp and twitch. "You know the shower is one of my favorite places to-"

Before he could finish, Marinette was already scrambling off the couch to run to the bathroom. "Hurry up, Chat boy."

[syntia13treeman]

Case files 10.01

what I think happened in:

Case 10.01, the case of "Cursed Pygmalion" or "How I stopped worrying and started fearing for my life instead"

In 1994 Channel Six hired Niger Dickerson to host night variety show, nicknamed "Nigel’s SOS," (short for "Nigel Dickerson presents Saturdays on Six,"), where Nigel was 'held prisoner' by mysterious off-screen "Mr. Six", and played pranks on his guests. The prank always concluded with the guests being informed that they "got berried" and receiving a raspberry trophy.

In 1996, as part of the prank, a character of Mr. Bonzo was created (Nigel designed the look, nobody can really remember who came up with that name*)

The first guest confronted with Mr. Bonzo, chef Gordon Ramsey Gotard Rimbaeu was so freaked out, he broke the actors arm with a frying pan (allegedly**).

After that the actors (allegedly**) wearing Bonzo's suit would change frequently. Playing the role has become sort of rite of passage for the newbies on set.

Bonzo's role also changed overtime. From a jumpscare he went to become the show's mascot, to eventually replace Mr. Six as Nigel's 'jailer'. He was a hit with target audience, the merch was selling, they even started building a themepark… and then everything changed, when Terrance Menki attacked got caught.

Who is Terrance Menki? Apparently a serial killer, whose gimmick was killing in cosplay, presumably different one each time, as he had a whole wardrobe of costumes. Just bad luck that when he got caught with his 11th victim, he was wearing a knock-off Bonzo suit. (It wasn't even a good knock-off, all the colours were backwards!)

Alas, the press immediately dubbed him the "Bonzo Butcher", the public ate it up, and Mr. Bonzo's public image was ruined. Shortly afterwards, on 3rd March 2000 the Bonzoland was closed (ARG exclusive information), "Nigel's SOS" was cancelled, and Nigel was left to deal with hate-mail and death threats, despite having nothing to do with the whole mess (allegedly).

That would be the end of the story, except… between 2016 and 2021 there were at least 3 murders where Mr. Bonzo was (allegedly) seen at the scene.

When asked about in an interview conducted by Geraldine in August 2021, Nigel Dickerson categoricity denied it refused to comment on any potential Bonzo involvement in any crime.

Considering that he'd been living in Mr. Bonzo's house for the past [number unknown] years, his claims of ignorance and innocence fall rather flat.

The most recent Bonzo sighting was not reported on Saturday night, 09th of March 2024, when Gwendolym Bouchard, acting on behalf of OIAR, handed over an envelope containing (reportedly***) a name and address. Mr. Bonzo graciously accepted and chewed said envelope in his NOT SOFT teeth and lumbered into the night.

More news next Thursday at 5pm. For now let's speculate a bit:

*If Nigel didn't come up with Bonzo's name, and his producer Rich didn't come up with the name… then who did? I won't say it's impossible that it was just some random intern that Nigel couldn't be bothered to remember, but… Names are important. Names have power. Maybe something was trying to manifest itself, and started with giving itself a name?

**Where there ever actually any actors inside Bonzo suit? There are a few possibilities: a) it's been all Bonzo all along – it would go well with Bonzo naming himself, but otherwise I think it's unlikely. It's possible that: b) there only ever was one, very unlucky actor. When the Britain's snootiest chef attacked him with a pan, he did more than just break the poor man's arm. The actor died in the costume, and stayed in the costume, and just… kept going in the costume. This is macabre enough origin story to be plausible, but I'm gonna say nah. I think that: c) SOS really had their little ritual, where a stream of very tired, minimal wage studio workers had to run around in the suit until the next loser was hired. This is too easily verifiable for Nigel to lie about. I bet there were little 'behind the scenes' documentaries during the show's golden era, where Jack the stagehand and Joe the janitor bitched in polite British about how much of a pain in the neck it was.

So at what point did the actors become unnecessary? When and how was current day Mr. Bonzo born? I think it was a process that started with the name, but ended shortly after his show was cancelled. Over the years of popularity, as more and more people thought of Bonzo as a character (or a person) more than a funny suit, Bonzo was becoming less and less of just a funny suit. When the costume no longer had actors to animate it, it decided to animate itself. And because at that time the Bonzo-mania turned to Bonzo-hate, instead of chaotic but largely harmless creature he could have been, he became… well. Something that a shady government organization apparently uses as a hitman.

And here I need to ask an important question: What the fuck was up with that? Joking. (Though I wish to know how do you even discover you can do that). (***and did the envelope really contain name and address? Did Gwen check? Does she remember the name?)

The question is: who is the unlucky person, about to receive a lethal blast of the 90s nostalgia? Will we ever even know? (Will we know tomorrow, 11.04.2024, when Celia clicks on the newest case and hears an emergency call from someone fleeing for their life from a 'guy in a weird costume?')

Other question: how long has Nigel been held hostage in his own house (sorry – Bonzo's house) and just how sorry should I feel for him? He seemed pretty unconcerned about the actor with broken arm, and about Bonzo running off into the night to do murder, but I imagine that living in constant shadow of Mr Bonzo is pretty stressful and doesn't leave much room for empathy, so… I don't know. I'm gonna wait and see.