#does next Friday sound good :D?

[rozugold]

Would anybody be miffed if I post the next painted illusions page next week instead of this week…?

[glittervame]

We're not done yet doll

"She said she wanted 5 guys I'm not talking bout burgers, I pull up with my friends that pussy get murdered...Jk I'm not into trains"

^It's been poping up on my tiktok fyp and I wanted to do something about it

Sorry for any inconsistency throughout the story or the spelling errors. Lord, please forgive me...

Smut, Cheating, spitroast

The party was in full swing, the music pounding through the walls and the scent of sweat and alcohol thick in the air. Y/n was wearing a short, black dress that hugged her curves and showed off her long, toned legs. Her hair was loose and flowing, a hint of rebellion in the way she tossed her head to the beat.

She moved from group to group, laughing and flirting with the boys she knew from school. It was easy to forget that just a few hours ago, she had been with her boyfriend, the sweet and loyal guy from Ravenclaw.

He's a really nice guy, just so sincere, He takes her out on these pretty little dates in Hogsmeade, and he's good in bed too. There should be no reason really why she's at this party; where she should've been is curled up next to her boyfriend watching a romcom or studying for her ancient ruins test that was coming up on Friday.

But tonight, she was here with Mattheo, Theo, Draco, Blaise, and Lorenzo, all of whom seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely. From the small touches on the length of her back to the grinding while they were dancing.

As the night wore on, the alcohol flowed more freely, and the lines between desire and responsibility began to blur. Y/n found herself getting more touchy than she should've been. It was like she was in a haze, unable to control how her body responded to their touch. It also didn't help that they were keeping her stocked to the brim with alcohol, never letting it hit the middle line of the red solo cup in her hands.

Finally, in a dark corner of the room, she found herself alone with Mattheo. His hands were rough as they traveled up her thighs, and she could feel his arousal pressed against her. He kissed her deeply, his tongue dancing with hers in a way that sent shivers down her spine. She moaned into his mouth, arching her back as he undid her dress, revealing her black lace bra and matching thong. His fingers found the wetness between her legs, and he groaned against her lips.

"I've wanted this for so long," he muttered, his breath hot against her skin. She could feel the heat building inside her as well, a desperate ache that only he seemed to be able to satisfy. His fingers slipped inside her, and she cried out, her body trembling with pleasure. She wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him on, wanting more.

Mattheo's fingers found her clit, and his thumb began to tease her mercilessly. She cried out, her body arching off the ground, and any thought of her boyfriend disappeared. She was lost in the sensation, her whole world reduced to the feel of Mattheo's fingers moving inside her, the taste of his lips on hers, the sound of their harsh breathing filling her ears.

As she neared the peak of her orgasm, she felt a hand slip under her dress and caress her bare ass. Startled, she glanced down to see Draco grinning up at her, his eyes dark with desire. "Tryna share your pretty doll Cousin?" He purrs, his fingers rubbing against her nipples through her bra. She gasps, her body tensing as a second orgasm washes over her.

"D-Draco…" she manages to stammer out, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart. His lips curve into a wicked grin and he leans in, capturing her mouth in a rough, demanding kiss. His tongue invades her mouth, tangling with hers as he continues to touch her, his fingers never ceasing their motion. She moans into his kiss, her hips bucking against Mattheos hand, as he curls his fingers.

"Lean your head back pretty girl" Theo asks, his voice low and husky. She does as he asks, feeling his warm hands against her neck as he guides her head to his cock, "Open up" he commands, and she opens her mouth, taking him in as he thrusts his hips forward, his hard length filling her mouth. Her tongue swirls around him, tasting him, feeling him down her throat.

She lets out loud squeal as Mattheos hands are replaced by Blaises throbing cock. He pushes inside her roughly, his hips slamming against hers in a brutal rhythm. It feels so good, so overwhelming, that she can hardly breathe. Her nails dig into his shoulders, leaving angry red lines behind as she arches her back to meet his thrusts. She can feel herself building towards another orgasm, the pressure building inside her, the need growing more and more intense with every thrust.

As if sensing her imminent release, Lorenzo's hands slip down her body and begin to stroke her wet folds. His fingers are soft and expert, and they send shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body. She moans around Theo's cock, feeling him twitch in response. Her orgasm builds, cresting higher and higher, until it breaks over her in a powerful wave. She cries out, her body shuddering with release as she comes all over Lorenzo's hands and Blaise's cock, a white ring forming at the base of it.

Her muscles relax and go lax, but they don't stop moving, overstimulating her, her breath comes in ragged gasps, her vision blurred with pleasure and desire. Draco's soft hands have turned into his mouth on her breasts biting and sucking, leaving red bite marks along her skin, little dots of blood coming from the wounds.

Theo growls, his hips bucking roughly as he comes, filling her mouth with his hot seed. She swallows eagerly, her tongue working to clean his length as he pulls away, watching her with dark, hungry eyes. "That's a good girl" He praises as he watches you, patting your cheek.

Blaise's thrusts become slopy as he nears his own release,p his breath coming out in ragged gasps. His cock twitches inside her, the head brushing against something deep inside, making her shiver with pleasure. "So close…" he groans, his hips slamming harder against hers.

Lorenzo's fingers are still moving, circling her clit, teasing her, keeping her on the edge of another orgasm. She arches her back, her nails digging into his shoulders as she feels herself starting to slip over the edge once more. "Please…" she whispers, her voice barely audible over the sounds of their bodies moving together.

Draco leans forward, capturing one of her nipples between his lips and sucking hard. She cries out, her hips bucking against Blaise as he continues to thrust inside her. The sensation of being filled, of being wanted and desired like this, is almost too much to bear. Her body trembles on the brink of release, her muscles tense and coiled tightly.

Blaise's eyes meet hers in the mirror, and she can see the lust burning bright in his gaze. "That's it, baby," he growls, his thrusts becoming faster and harder. "Let go for me." His words send a shiver down her spine, and with a final thrust, he comes inside her, his body tensing as he releases his seed.

She feels it deep inside, and with a cry of pleasure, her body finally gives in to the overwhelming sensations, her orgasm crashing over her in a wave of bliss. Her nails scratch at Blaise's back, her legs clamp shut around his waist, her entire being focused on the feeling of him moving inside her. Her body shudders with pleasure, her muscles trembling as she comes apart in his arms.

Her body relaxes, exhausted. A laugh echos through the room, "We're not done yet doll," Mattheo says, unbuckling his belt, "I haven't even had my turn yet"

Theo tag list -Theo Is in it does that count?

@ladyblablabla

@idontknowwhattosaylmao

Comment if you want to be added to a tag list

[ellesthots]

Fateful Beginnings

XXI. “belonging”

parts: previous / next

plot: somehow, you always find your way back home. Batman gets an intriguing lead on John Doe.

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader

cw: 18+, dead body, cancer, confrontation, depression

words: 3.2k

Tears studded your cheeks as you vented to Mar about the morning's happenings. She'd never liked Dr. Vry, and at some point the conversation had exploded into a rant about the subpar character of the woman. "Remember when she accidentally input my A as a C and told me 'fate' must have guided her grade input? Then didn't fucking change it because of fucking, written in the stars bullshit? Fucking tanked my GPA."

"I just don't get it. The email said nothing about him, she said nothing about reporting on him besides being excited he would be there." You collapsed flat on your back in a starfish pose. "It was like she expected me to be starstruck by him or something. Like that was the only course of action." Like everyone else seems to be. The world caters to flashy, superficial things.

"Fuck her! You don't need her!"

You stared at her blankly for a moment. "Except for my housing, my food, my plane tickets back home?"

"How much an hour is it? Like $15?"

"$43."

"Oh fuck, in this economy you should've said you'd suck his dick, too."

Maybe you were spending a little too much time with her. "I feel like alluding to me doing anything with that man should be a crime." You flopped back on your bed and checked the time--it was barely past noon. You hadn't even managed to be at the job until the afternoon... shame threatened to cocoon you faced with such obvious failure. At this point you remembered the check Dr. Vry had sent would arrive today, and a few minutes later you sat inputting the code you'd been mailed to your digital check.

You spent the next twenty minutes listening to Mar continue to rant while you ordered some groceries. By that point she'd gotten a text from one of her friends for their Friday night bar hangout and had dismissed herself, leaving you tethered to your house as you waited to stock your fridge. You watched out the window as she got into an Uber, and after she was gone for sure, and just as the check deposited, you called your mom. Moreso even than the likely imminent firing, the stress of her health threatened to spiral you off the deep end. She picked up on the third ring. She sounded tired.

"Hey, hun." She cleared her throat, then yawned. You heard a small buzzing sound in the background, then heard a small meow. Another night he spent purring and cuddling her. Thanks, Walter. God, you were so glad she had him. "Everything alright? The photos you sent of your apartment were really good, I showed them to Debbie and she couldn't believe it! 'In GOTHAM?' is what she told me!"

To tell or not to tell about the troubles this week held? She yawned again. Not the time. "You sound tired." Your grip tightened around the phone.

She sighed. "My doctors moved my appointment to six thirty in the morning, can you believe that?" She tsk-d.

"How'd the appointment go?"

"Oh just fine. I had to sign a bunch of paperwork and talk to practically everyone in the place." She sounded bored and vaguely annoyed, which she hadn't been before. Irritability a potential side effect?

"Did the shot hurt?" Small talk, but what else was there to discuss? Your likely firing?

"Nope." She began cooing to Walter, who became exponentially louder with his purr.

"How's your arm? Any side effects yet?" God, why did things feel so dry today? Did Gotham really create so much distance already between you and your family? Were you just anxious and overthinking? Was she annoyed?

"My my, they must have you busy with interviewing skills."

You opened your mouth to respond, but she questioned you instead. "When are you coming back hon?"

This question confused you. "Uh, whenever you need me to, but I thought starting next month? For the injections?" You twirled with a frayed end on your blanket. Can I still return this? It's been like a week and it's already tearing apart... she snapped you out of your wandering with her next sentence.

"Sure, your dad and I are going on a cruise this week."

A cruise? Right after her first dose of an experimental cancer drug? With unknown side effects? "Mom, your treatment,"

"Oh we'll only be gone a week. Won't interfere with my next appointment." Walter meowed again. Who would be taking care of him?

"I mean, okay. I just think with not knowing the side effects of your first dose,"

"The way I see it dear is this might be the best I ever get to feel."

That sentence hit like a ton of bricks atop bruised ribs. "Couldn't you wait a week, just see the side effects?"

"The cruise leaves the port tomorrow."

"Mom,"

"We still can't believe that donor. Whoever they are, they really opened our finances up. Your father's been saving for years to try and make that initial bulk payment,"

You recalled the argument they'd had when your mother's cancer was initially found. Your mom wanted to start a payment plan immediately, but your dad thought if he put it into deferment for a few years and made payments to a high yield savings account every month their money would 'go exponentially further'. You hadn't cared much at the time, mostly because money stressed you the hell out, and at the time you were trying to avoid thinking about your mother's prognosis. Before you could decide what to say next, your dad had walked into the room and starting shouting loud enough for you to hear on the phone.

"Hey sweets, how are you and that Wayne guy doing?"

"I don't know how else to tell you guys I don't like him. We don't talk." This conversation was going nowhere, and you could smell an impending argument if you stayed on even another minute. You needed to check on one last thing before hanging up. "Who's looking after Walter?"

"Oh don't worry about that,"

"I am worried. Do you need me to come back to watch him?"

"Debbie will be stopping in throughout the week to check on him."

Walter was never very fond of Debbie; whenever she came over, in fact, he ran and hid. If you knew Debbie any less you might think Walter was placing judgment on her character, but no: she was just very loud, her laugh sounding a bit like a stampede. Walter was never very skittish, but after enough startles, he'd come to hide whenever he heard her come around. His discomfort was all you needed. "Tell her not to come, I'm coming home for the week."

"Hon," your mom began to chastise you, but you refused to let her finish. "No, no, I'm coming home tomorrow and I will stay with him. Case closed." After saying goodbye and lying about having already bought a nonrefundable ticket, you hung up and bought the earliest flight for tomorrow: 11am. You did your best to avoid thoughts of how the thousand Dr. Vry had sent was already disappearing, and filled the rest of your evening (sans figuring out what to do with fresh bags of perishable groceries) packing to head back the next day.

The bat signal hadn't lit since Thursday night. Bruce had been left reeling, kicking himself for not following up with Gordon on the owl debacle. He went out every night, and every few hours would move to the usual meeting place with Gordon to find an empty sky. It was Wednesday night before the signal lit again, and by that point Bruce had nearly gaslit himself into thinking the owls hadn't been there in the first place.

Gordon looked morose, but resolved. "We have the autopsy back for our John Doe." He held up a graphic photo of the man, gray and laid out on stainless steel. His chest and abdominal cavities were peeled open and pinned to keep tension, revealing a normal—yet punctured—chest and abdomen. Gordon confirmed its complete lack of novelty. "Nothing. Couldn't even trace back a name. No one posting about a missing husband, child, brother, nephew, friend." He paused to clear his throat. "However, we did find something unusual in one of his fillings."

"Unusual? How?"

"The coroner said he almost didn't catch it, but he runs the deceased through an MRI machine after especially gruesome cases. Normally fillings don't show up on magnets, but these ones did." He held out his other hand, revealing a few small pieces of chipped silvery metal. The metal was extremely slick and had a mirror finish to its shine. "It's a metallic alloy of sorts. I'll send it to the lab for processing."

He nearly asked to take it back to his own lab, but that would pressure the boundaries. Gordon was in a tight spot being seen with Batman. He couldn't push it. "How long until it's processed?"

Gordon shrugged, his nose scrunched like he was still smelling formaldehyde's stench. Bruce thought he might've caught a whiff off his jacket. "Not more than a coupla days. I'll signal for you." If the city was in a better place, if Gordon was in a better mood, he might have winked.

The pause gave Bruce just enough time to speak. He said it casually, without much fuss, as if it were a rolling breeze. "Did you see what was on the knives' handles?"

Gordon sighed. A good one? A bad one? Bruce's eyes trained on him like a hawk. The cowl felt tight. "Chicken scratch, most of 'em."

"Most?" Say more.

"No traceable logo."

Frustration bled into his tone. "Looked like an owl."

Gordon's eyes focused on no particular point on the back wall, his eyes narrowing. What? He saw it too, right? pounded against his ribs to be heard. After what felt like hours Gordon shook his head. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" Was this an elaborate scheme? Did Gordon not see it? Was his, was his mind failing him? It glinted off the light perfectly, the etching was transparent in its shape, the beak, the feathers, the claws...

"You alright?" The Bat was lost in thought, breathing thick and heavy. Bruce nodded. To push, or not to push? Silence hung like smog between them. It was crucial to push it, imperative to reality check his mental faculties. "It didn't resemble an owl to you?"

Gordon shrugged. It gave no information to Bruce, who was close to running out of the room and laying face-down in his pillow the rest of the night while he actively avoided looking further into the death of his great-grandfather. Was his time coming sooner than his had? Was it due to his lack of sociability? Had he been concussed one too many times? His neuronal pathways seized up, the myelin sheaths disintegrated?

"Do you know anything about owls?"

Did Gordon know? Was this a trick question? Wait, he wasn't Bruce. He considered saying he'd seen them in peculiar position throughout town, but moreso than Gordon's rocky relationship with the police force, the man had no idea who Batman was; Bruce had to keep exclusively to formidable behavior due to the weakness of the knot tying them together. A kooky moment, or a Freudian slip could force Gordon to take out some scissors and sever their relationship. Bruce shook his head, and left.

Uber. TSA. Flight. Baggage. Uber. Key. Door. Lock. Walter. Eat. Sleep. Walter. Eat. Sleep. Walter. Eat. Sleep. Walter. The past few days had passed in such inconsequential monotony you resisted the conclusion you weren't alive at all. The only moments of reprieve you gathered were when Walter walked up and jumped into bed beside you, tucking his fluffy back against your stomach. He was the only reason you were able to sleep with the anxiety of your job being in limbo, and your mom having fled the town after her first shot. Your mom had left a note saying that the connection would be spotty on the cruise, but they would be back no later than 5pm the following Friday. Now it was Wednesday, and the food your parents had left was starting to dwindle. Your muscles ached to be moved further than the walk from your bed to the bathroom, your bed to the kitchen, or your bed to the living room couch. You put another ice cube into Walter's bowl, grabbed your helmet that was thankfully still in the hallway closet, and took off for a ride to the grocery store on your mom's old bike.

The air was warm, and the sun threatened to burn every centimeter of exposed skin. You'd forgotten just long enough that the stinging sensation was of hot sun piercing onto skin to where you decided against going back for SPF. You didn't have to worry about such basic, human things in Gotham; the sun barely came out, and when it did it was covered by such dense clouds and thick smog you couldn't begin to feel heat against your skin whatsoever. The buildings were hard and cold, the dense metal keeping you chilled no matter the season. Now the sun accosted you, the wheels of the bike running over fresh leaves and the occasional string of hay. You swerved past clumps of clay dirt that lay in the middle of the road, shut your eyes for a few seconds as you coasted, not having to look out for a pedestrian or car every five feet. This was living, this was where you wanted to be. Tears prickled your eyes as you coasted into the dusty parking lot of WinCo, a local grocery store chain to the PNW. You forgot a bike lock, but the city was small and trusted enough that you never heard about bikes getting stolen, anyway. The initial panic was immediately eased, as well as the tight knot in your chest. Maybe you belonged... here?

You walked into the grocery and went straight for the fruit aisle. As you placed apples and oranges and pears in your basket, you absentmindedly flipped through the past. When you were growing up here, it was too boring. You'd wanted nothing more than to leave. You wanted to see skyscrapers, and big cities, and always have something happening around you. Now that you had experienced the worst of what a city could give, this town with its penetrating sun and lofty trees felt like paradise. A paradise that was quickly interrupted, when you accidentally knocked baskets with Lara. "Oh shit,"

"Y/N?" She pulled her basket in and glanced to her left, at someone who you presumed was her exchange boyfriend. She stared at your shoes, you noticed her cheeks going pink. Tension yanked on your shoulders and your stomach flipped. "Hi. I'm watching Walter while my parents are on a cruise."

"No longer in Gotham?" Her boyfriend turned around when she mentioned The Most Feared City, and walked over. "Gotham? That shitshow? I don't know how anyone can live there."

Fucking prick. A strange defensiveness overtook you. "It's not as bad as people make it out to be." Yes it was. "I'm just visiting home, I have a journalism job back there."

"How's Bruce Wayne?" Her tone was mocking, quite unlike Lara, and you figured it had to be Rose and Gabbi's bitter influence in the time you'd been gone that brought this upon her. Mystery Man's eyes lit up, one of the buttons on his shirt threatened to pop like the bulgy vein in his forehead. "You know Bruce Wayne? The Bruce Wayne?"

"She knows him, alright." She side-eyed the guy and giggled. He laughed, which was startling, and shame bolted through your body like a sticky, sharp rod. He leaned into her ear and said, still loud enough for you to hear and likely purposely so, "Her?"

Before shame could fully envelope you, you righted the wrong; in part because the idea of someone believing Bruce had been inside you made you want to sink into the floor, in another wanting to assuage yourself of guilt. "We haven't fucked. Sorry. I was just trying to get back at losers I thought were my friends."

Lara gasped. "I can't believe you!" It rung hollow in your ear just as Dr. Vry had. If someone put their hand over your head they'd feel steam. "You didn't used to be like this, it's fucking disappointing." You spun around and ignored what she was saying behind you, shoving your feet against the ground, making your calves burn with each grief-consumed footstep. It doesn't matter what they think. It doesn't matter what she's saying. Soon enough you made it across the store to the pantry aisle, pretending to inspect some cavatappi noodles in your quivering hands. The cardboard soaked up your bulleted tears, and you tossed it in your basket after catching a glimpse of your reflection in the boxes' plastic window. You fell to your knees and covered it up pretending to inspect the marinara, not trusting your thighs or knees to keep you steady. Everything hit you all at once, panic rising in your chest and narrowing your esophagus. You grabbed a random sauce and ran to the self checkout, ringing up your two items, grabbing a bag, and taking off for home.

The ride home wasn't as quaint as the one there. The sun wasn't at your backside, now it seared into your bleary eyes as it set, making you unable to see a rock in the road, sending you flying overtop the handlebars. When you touched your knees and elbows, they stung and stained your fingertips red. The last ten minutes of the walk was utter misery, as blood dribbled slowly down your knees and down to your wrists. Walter meowed when you came back, but you couldn't pet him. You turned the water as cold as you could manage to wash away the cakey blood and dirt. Your hands hesitated before lathering the shampoo, and when they scrubbed the back of your head you began to cry again. Your face was hot and your body ice cold. You sat on the floor, pulled your knees up, and wrapped your hands around your chest as sobs shrieked out of you. The water ran pink, then pastel, then clear. Being alive hurt. The thought pounded at the back of your corneas, chafed blisters between your thighs, and spiked the ridges in your throat, that you might never, ever, feel "home". Walter meowed at the door, you turned off the shower, and toweled off to open another can of Friskies.

[babiemunson]

you're just a baby, honey, it's okay

eddie helps steve regress for the first time.

pairing: regressor!steve harrington x caregiver!eddie munson

word count: 1,278

content warnings: mention of blood, mention of a panic attack because of flashbacks to upside down related stuff, mention of old scars from bat bites, regressed steve is briefly upset

-------

it's been a pretty stressful week for steve when eddie brings up his big idea.

monday and tuesday brought with them a barrage of rude customers at family video. wednesday carried flashbacks to bats and blood, which in turn induced a panic attack that had steve gasping for breath. thursday started out okay, but in the afternoon, steve's scars started hurting and he had to lie down for the rest of the day. friday wasn't bad per se, it was just busy - after steve's shift, he had to help wayne munson move some boxes, then he picked up the kids from hellfire and brought them to his house for dinner. he only got some free time after sunset.

so on saturday, when steve is sitting on eddie's couch and trying to unwind, eddie proposes something.

"so you know how i get small sometimes?"

steve looks up at him, blinking. ever since he'd walked in on eddie coloring, something had changed between them - something good. it's easier to be around each other now. not that it was hard before, but now it's... open. a couple times, steve has even been able to look after eddie when the latter has been small. "yeah. why?"

eddie sits on the couch next to steve. "it can happen when i'm stressed or upset. and it really helps. when i get... big... again, i feel better, and calmer." he bites his lip, then reaches out and rests a hand on top of steve's. "i was wondering if- if maybe you wanted to try? being small? it might help."

steve's eyes widen. "me? nah, man, i can't do that. i gotta look after people. who's gonna look after me?"

"i could," says eddie, shrugging. "you take care of me when i'm small, right? i can return the favor."

"i..." steve frowns, slumping a little. eddie's hand is warm; it's making it hard to think. "i mean... okay. sure. we can try. promise you won't laugh at me?"

eddie does laugh, but only at that notion. "harrington. you've seen me sucking my thumb, babbling like a baby, and playing with kids toys. i don't think i'm in any position to make fun of you."

so it's settled: steve is going to be small. or at least try to.

eddie leads him by the hand into the bedroom, where they sit down on eddie's bed. "since this is your first time," he says, voice soft and gentle. "you might need some help. okay?"

steve nods. the way eddie's speaking to him is making his head feel fuzzy.

eddie's lips curve into a smile, and he tucks steve's hair behind his ear. "alright, stevie. i'm right here with you, okay? just take your time. we can look at books if you want, or play with toys."

"uhm... toys. toys sound good." steve has to really focus to speak. it's getting so difficult all of a sudden.

eddie reaches under the bed and pulls out a faded teddy and a dragon stuffed animal. "which one do you want, honey?"

the nickname makes steve's heart melt into a little puddle in his chest. wordlessly, he reaches out for the teddy, and brushes his thumb along its fuzzy head.

"good pick," eddie praises. "hey stevie, can you tell me how small you're feeling? you can use your fingers if you want."

steve swallows hard. "d...dunno," he manages. "nineteen, but s'like... like things are fuzzy. feel nineteen but kind of like a kid. s'this what it feels like?"

eddie smiles knowingly. "i think you're getting there." he brings a hand up and pets steve's hair. "like i said, take your time. you're safe, okay? i gotcha. just let yourself go. that fuzzy feeling? let it spread. you're okay."

steve's eyelids are getting heavy. he leans into eddie's touch. everything feels like it's fading away. "feels good," he murmurs.

"why don't you lie down, sweetheart?" eddie puts an arm around steve's shoulders and helps him lie down with his head on eddie's chest. "c'mere. is this okay?"

steve nods, cuddling closer. "s'okay. i like it."

he's not really tired. it's a different sort of fuzziness in his mind. and it's welcome.

*

eddie is pretty proud of his bright idea. it seems to be working. they stay snuggled up together like that for almost an hour, eddie stroking steve's hair and whispering softly to him. after a while eddie takes steve's hand again.

"how old are you now, stevie?"

steve takes his thumb from his mouth and holds up one finger.

eddie presses a kiss to the crown of steve's head. "you're so tiny. my little boy. are you hungry? do you want a sandwich?"

"mhm." steve nods, and lets eddie sit him up.

"okay. well, you just stay right here and cuddle with teddy, and i'll bring you back a peanut butter sandwich, how does that sound?" eddie ruffles steve's hair.

steve lights up, and nods again.

it only takes a few minutes for eddie to prepare the food - peanut butter sandwiches were his favorite after school snack as a kid, so he's pretty fast at whipping them up. he brings it and a glass of milk with a straw back into the bedroom. "here you go."

steve reaches out and takes the sandwich. he's too small, though, and he drops it back onto the plate on accident, which bumps into the glass of milk and makes a few drops splash onto the floor. the mistake makes him wilt; tears well up in his eyes. "uh-oh."

"it's okay! it's okay, stevie, don't you worry. you're just a baby, honey, it's okay. no biggie." eddie sits next to steve and dries his tears.

steve gazes up at eddie with the sweetest look on his face. "no mad?"

"of course i'm not mad, baby boy. it was an accident. i can clean it up. god knows worse things have been spilled on this carpet." eddie rests his cheek on steve's shoulder, rocking him side to side a bit before sitting back up. "you're all good. i promise."

steve lets out a shuddering breath, and then smiles tearfully.

"there's that smile," eddie coos. "here. i can feed you, if it's too hard for you to do it yourself."

slowly, steve gets through the sandwich, eddie lifting it to his mouth for every bite. he washes it down with milk - which eddie holds up for him to drink through the straw. when they're done, eddie grins.

"good job, sweetheart." he kisses steve's forehead. "was that tasty?"

steve nods, then yawns.

eddie melts. steve's just so cute - when he's big and when he's small. "oh, is it time for the baby boy to have his nap?"

"nap," steve breathes. he yawns again.

"alright. i'll tuck you in." eddie carefully helps steve lie down again, and tucks the blanket securely around him. "do you want the light on or off?"

steve blinks heavily. "on, pease."

"as you wish." eddie leaves the light on and goes to get a wet cloth to clean up the spilled milk. when he returns, steve is almost asleep, breaths having evened out. his eyes are open just a crack.

"ebbie?"

"yeah, honey?" eddie scrubs at the spill and is able to get it fairly clean. he tosses the cloth in his hamper.

steve gives one last big yawn. "stay wif me? pease?"

eddie's heart gets so warm. he climbs into bed next to steve and holds him close. "it's okay, stevie. i've got you. i'm here, and you're safe. you just go right to sleep, okay?"

but there's no response, because steve is already fast asleep in eddie's arms.

[henryravenswood-ssideburns]

Five Unfortunate Suitors Chapter 2: Rowan D Falls

Tw: Alcohol, Blood, Death,

In the following spring a riverboat captain began courting Melanie. And everything about this man set Henry off; he was graying! And he wanted to marry his daughter who was just now entering womanhood! Absolutely not. The mining Baron sat in his office watching the riverboat captain ferry people to and from. He growls deeply and starts thinking.

I could just shoot him! One and done between the eyes! Or I could get him drunk and tie him to some bricks and chuck him in the river. Henry watches like a cat staring at a bug, a disgusted sneer across his face. He looks down at his ledger noticing the black ink pooling from where he had squeezed his pen too tightly.

“Damn!” he growled, shaking the black ink off his hand. He grabs his handkerchief and wipes the remaining ink off. He stands up. I need to take a walk. He exits his office, heading down to the private riverside portion of his property. He sighs, taking in a deep breath of the cool spring air. A small smile came to his face, he enjoyed nature… most of the time. He enjoyed a few moments of silence… then the riverboat pulled into his line of sight. He scowled as Rowan waved from the Captain’s spot. 

“MR. RAVENSWOOD! I’D LIKE TO SPEAK TO YOU ONCE I PULL OL’ MOLLY HERE BACK TO SHORE, CAN I HAVE A MOMENT OF YOUR TIME?!” He shouted. Henry harrumphed 

“If you feel you must!” he called back. Henry grumbles to himself walking back over to the Manor and sitting at the gazebo. Henry was plotting to himself, how to get rid of this new foolish suitor? He looked at the teapot sitting on the table. “I could poison him.”  Henry thought, then shook his head “No I'd have to go to the apothecary and once Rowan's body is found poisoned they'll trace it back to me.” he twirled one of his sideburns in thought. His thoughts were interrupted by someone walking up the sidewalk towards him. Henry sighs and glances out of the gazebo seeing Rowan… Out of all the people I want to see, you sir are at the bottom of my list. He thought as the captain walked up to him.

“Ah good afternoon Mr. Ravenswood!” The taller man slapped Henry on the back and forcibly gave him a handshake. Henry glares at him before straightening himself out.

“What did you need, Captain Falls?” Henry asked, annoyed.

“I wanted to invite you for a personal dinner to get to know you better!” Henry nods thinking about it. “Better yet, you'll be the first man to step foot on my new boat.” Henry smirked… no witnesses, perfect. 

“When did you want to have this dinner? I’ll be sure to bring my best whiskey.”

“How does this Friday at three thirty sound?” Rowan said, checking a small book in his pocket, Henry pulled out his schedule, and checked.

“Ahh, I’m a little busy this Friday… is Thursday two thirty okay?” Henry sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

I just want him out of the damn picture already.

“Yes sir, that works for me! It’ll be the brig, next to ol’ Molly.” Henry smirked internally.

Oh you foolish, foolish man. Henry thought to himself as he turned to the Manor “Thursday at two thirty it is then.” He said matter of factly. As he made his way to the Manor, a wicked grin spread across his face. Soon… very soon. 

Thursday came without much fuss, Henry arose early and donned his best, straightening out his clothes. He exits his chambers and walks by Melanie’s room he knocks on the door. 

“Melanie sweetie, it’s papa, can I come in?” Melanie opened her door smiling up at Henry. 

“Papa!” She threw her arms around him. Henry gently stroked her hair “You’re all dressed up, what’s going on?”

“Oh, just a business proposal, that’s all.” Henry chuckled, “I’ll be back before evening, my little Melanie.” He kissed her on the forehead, and proceeded to leave the Manor. 

He began to walk towards the docks, whiskey bottle in his hand as he stood next to the riverboat captain’s new boat. And waited, he pulled his pocket watch out… two twenty-nine.

Where was he?

Henry heard quickened footsteps and turned to see Rowan.

Dead man walking. Henry thought as Rowan came up and slapped him on the back Henry grits his teeth. 

I'm going to punch him… I am going to pun-

“Ahhhh! There you are Mr. Ravenswood… shall we go aboard?” Henry nodded, holding up the bottle of whiskey. 

“I brought the liquor…” as they boarded the ship and settled down Rowan smiled, pulling the basket of food he had brought for the two of them on their riverboat cruise. Rowan began yakking on and on about his occupation and how he would make a great son-in-law. Henry could feel his eyes start to roll, but he stopped and popped the bottle of whiskey open pouring a rocks glass for the both of them. Henry sipped slowly, Rowan, however, was gulping it down like it was shots.

“Slow down Mr. Falls, it's not some cheap moonshine for you to gulp down… it's meant to be savored.” Henry said, swirling the liquor around in his glass. Rowan chuckled,

“Ah I see being the richest man in Thunder Mesa has made you a snob Mr. Ravenswood, come on, let's put the rocks glasses away and let's drink like men!” Henry sighed. 

“If you insist.” Henry quickly drinks what was left in the rocks glass and watches as Rowan produces two shot glasses. And the two men begin to take shots��� or so Rowan thought. Henry was letting it fall behind him. Eventually Rowan was too drunk to stand on his own two feet. He looked at Henry and slurred,

“Hey… how come you're still standing.”

“I'm of Irish descent… whiskey flows through my veins.” Henry half-assed his lie, “Here let me help you to your quarters.” He put his arm around the drunken man and helped to the Captain’s quarters. He laid the man in the bed. “I'll let you sober up.” The second Rowan's head hit the pillow he was out. And Henry left the Captain's quarters. He went above deck and scanned the two rowboats… and an idea popped into his head… there was a lit oil lamp downstairs… if I knock that over I can start a fire and there'd be no way to trace it back to me. He chuckled to himself throwing the extra oars to the other rowboat into his rowboat… just in case. He went back below deck and found the oil lamp. He nonchalantly pushed it over, shattering it. 

“Whoops…” he watched the small oil fire start to turn into an inferno. He quickly evacuated the ship, getting into one of the rowboats and lowering himself into the water, rowing away from the ship.

The smell of smoke quickly sobered the sleeping Rowan he shot out of bed and opened his door the flames were getting close to boxing him in. He scanned the room.

“Mr. Ravenswood?” He slurred, not completely up to peak sobriety. Not seeing any sign of Henry, Rowan felt his gut sink… 

Has the inferno already consumed him? Oh God… what am I to tell Melanie and Mrs. Ravenswood?

The flames inched closer and Rowan quickly made his way to the ladder and stumbled onto the deck, he glances around,

Wait, the other rowboat, it’s gone. Did Mr. Ravenswood take the second one? Why didn’t he wake me up? Rowan pondered as he got into the rowboat and lowered himself into the water he went to go paddle away… 

Wait…

“WHERE ARE THE OARS?!” He yelled looking for them, and that’s when he heard it… the oh-so close sound of rushing water, he looked up and his face fell.

Waterfall.

So here Rowan was, up the creek without a paddle, literally. He looked ahead seeing the waterfall and swallowed nervously bracing himself, maybe he could survive it. He felt the boat tip, and down he went, he screamed the entire time until he felt something piercing his abdomen. He opened his eyes, seeing a rock pushed into his stomach effectively impaling him.

Standing on the riverbank just beside the waterfall was Henry, he got close to the rock hearing the gurgling of blood filling the captain’s lungs. Rowan turned his head seeing Henry.

“Mister Ravens…” He coughed blood spewing from his mouth.

“Now, Now, Captain Falls… don’t struggle too much.” He climbed up on the rock to admire what nature did. The rock went right through his back and was tinted a deep scarlet. The rowboat was reduced to driftwood and kindling. Henry allowed himself to smirk, his plan, while not completely what he was expecting, worked. 

“H-hel-” Rowan started.

“There’s nothing I can do Captain, your lungs are filling with blood and soon you’ll fade away. So please… just relax.” He chuckles. Rowan went to struggle but all it did was drive the rock into him deeper. “Don’t worry…. At least you’ll die knowing you were not good enough for Melanie.” Rowan’s eyes widened.

“Y-You sn-snake!” Rowan coughed “You… YOU PLANNED THIS!” The yelling finally made his lungs collapse and he wheezed trying to pant. 

Henry claps “You figured it out… I applaud you, Barry didn’t.” Henry smirked. “A shame you won’t be able to tell anyone.”

Rowan slumps over, death overtaking him. Henry’s shrill voice is the last thing embedded into his memory. 

Henry left his body to be discovered and it was ruled an accident. Henry got away with it yet again.

No man was good enough for his daughter… no man.

Melanie mourned… but secretly she was seeing someone, someone who might actually prove her father wrong. Was he a tycoon? No, just a simple foreman.

[padfootagain]

More than friends

Hi! Here I come with a new request for my Comeback Event! This was requested by @karasong : “hi carole! nice to see you're back, hun. may i please request obi-wan kenobi w/ coworkers au & almost kissing (to actually kissing) for your comeback event? thank you!! 💐💗 »

Thank you so much for your request! It does feel good to be back indeed :)

I hope you like what I’ve prepared for your request.

Let me know what you think of this little fic :)

****

Pairing: Obi-Wan x reader

Warnings: Just fluff!! Shy Obi-Wan is very cute and dear to me. Also, made it a modern AU! cause it fit better with the coworkers vibes to me.

Summary: You and Obi-Wan have been coworkers and friends for a while. But when a barbecue is planned by your firm, you get a chance to take your relationship to the next level…

Word count: 2411

Obi-Wan enjoyed having some alone time, he genuinely did. If he got along just fine with his coworkers, he still preferred the quiet and peace of his office for lunch, rather than the busy and noisy hall of the cafeteria.

It was almost noon, and as usual, Obi-Wan shut down his computer to take his lunch break. He got up from his chair behind his desk to grab the bag he had brought with him in the morning, that rested for now on the little table in the corner of his small office. He had prepared for himself a simple salade, vegetables and chicken. Simple but effective and healthy. All he needed to get through another long day at work. He sat down at his small table, took the Tupperware out of the bag along with his fork and knife, and grabbed his phone.

He didn’t eat though.

He scrolled through social media without paying much attention to what his screen displayed; instead, he kept an eye on the clock set up there, on the wall.

12:15. Only a few minutes to wait.

He eyed his meal, feeling his stomach grumbled, but didn’t open the little box before him. Instead, he mindlessly looked at his phone again. Only a few minutes to wait.

And he was right about that. Only a couple of minutes later, the door of his office was opening, without the bother of a knock.

He welcomed you with a warm smile.

“Hi Obi!” you chimed, closing the door behind you and sitting down at your usual spot, right next to him around his small circular table.

“Hello, Y/N.”

He gave you a warm smile, opening his lunchbox as you did the same with your own meal.

He noticed that your potatoes were warm, a little bit of steam rose from your lunchbox. It explained why you arrived after 12:10. You had to go downstairs to use the microwave, and then go all the way back up to the offices to eat with him. The thought of you purposefully coming back from the cafeteria to eat with him brought a smile to his face, but he didn’t say anything about it.

Better not.

“How was your morning?” he asks, his voice soft and calm, quiet, as it always was when he talked to you.

“Quite crazy,” you answered with a sigh. “With the summer holidays approaching, I have tons of things to finish so I can leave the office in peace for my well-earned vacation.”

“Same,” Obi-Wan nodded. “I heard that Anakin was struggling as well.”

“Anakin is always struggling. He’s too messy not to.”

Obi-Wan let out a chuckle, almost choking on his piece of bell pepper.

“That is quite true. I did do my best to mentor him though,” he heaved a dramatic sigh, and it was your time to laugh.

“He’s just beyond hope at this point.”

“Do you think you’ll be done by the end of the week?”

You shrugged.

“I hope so. If not, all these files will have to patiently wait for my return.”

Obi-Wan seemed to hesitate for a moment. He looked at you, weighing his options. He was apprehensive for your answer, yet he wanted to know.

But then again, he was often a little nervous around you. He blamed his long-lasting crush on you for that.

“Are you going to the barbecue on Friday night?” he asked at last, trying to sound nonchalant.

You studied his features for a moment, trying to guess what he intended to do. Truth was, you didn’t particularly enjoy extra-activities involving your coworkers. Sure, there were some you got along with quite well, Anakin was a good example. But then you would rather just gather with the few colleagues you genuinely liked, rather than to attend a big gathering involving the entire firm.

However… if Obi-Wan was going, then you were not completely against the idea. You blamed your long-lasting crush on him for that.

You shrugged, trying to sound as detached as you could, as if the topic didn’t matter to you. It mattered though, you had been thinking about this event for weeks…

“Probably, yes. I think so. Unless all the people I actually like will be absent, but otherwise, I think I’ll go.”

Obi-Wan nodded, trying to hide the smile that fought to form on his lips.

“Me too. I think I’ll go. It will probably be boring but… it’s for the firm. Besides, Anakin is going, and someone has to make sure he doesn’t get into too much trouble.”

You looked at him eating a piece of salad, but didn’t miss the sudden blush that had appeared on his cheeks, despite his cool appearance, his relaxed tone.

For the firm? You weren’t so sure about that.

When you planted your fork in your potato again, listening to Obi-Wan telling you about his weekend, you were grinning.

It was sunny and warm and a little boring.

Events organized by your firm always were boring, but then, it came with the fact that it was work-related. You couldn’t fully let loose and be yourself in these circumstances. You couldn’t allow yourself to be tipsy when your boss was a few meters away.

It wasn’t too bad though. The weather was nice, the barbecue was good, and Obi-Wan was by your side.

He was laughing with Anakin, shaking his head disapprovingly as the young man told you about a reckless trek he was planning across the mountains.

“If you do fall into a crevasse, please, make sure not to call me for help,” Obi-Wan warned his friend, rolling his eyes.

“What makes you think I’ll need help?”

“The last seven years? Ever since we’ve met, basically. You do have a talent to get into trouble, no matter what you are doing.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“Absolutely not.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at your friends’ playful banter. These two were like brothers, bickering as much as they could.

You took a bite from your hot-dog, looking around. People were separated in small groups, talking casually, although all kept an eye out to make sure no eavesdroppers were around. It was, all in all, a strange atmosphere that you didn’t like very much.

Anakin was called by another colleague and left you alone with Obi-Wan.

You noticed that he was more nervous than usual. Which was a strange look to find on his features. He was always so calm, so composed. Sometimes, it made it hard to read his mind. Still, you noticed the slight frown across his brow, as well as the way he held his glass of orange juice tightly in his hand.

Obi-Wan was hesitating. He had bought these tickets to see a play next week. He wanted to ask you to go with him… as a date.

He reckoned that the two of you had been playing this game of hide and seek long enough, it was more than time for him to finally make a move. Because, the truth was, he liked you. A lot. An awful lot. Actually… he didn’t merely like you at all...

But how could he ask? You were friends, and coworkers. It made everything complicated.

He had to try though.

“Do you have plans for your well-earned holidays?” he asked, trying to sound detached and nonchalant.

“Seeing my parents. And sleeping. A lot,” you joked, making him chuckle. “What about you?”

“Sleeping does sound awfully tempting. Although, I do have a few plans with friends and… things of the kind. Actually… I wanted to ask you…”

But Obi-Wan was interrupted by your boss, as she called for everyone to gather together to play some kind of game.

Obi-Wan and you exchanged a glance.

“Why do I feel like you are not ready to volunteer for this fun activity?” you teased him, although you didn’t particularly want to join the game either.

“Because you know me well by now, obviously.”

“You should play…”

“Absolutely not. I am not five anymore.”

“Why don’t we escape then?”

He gave you a fond smile, nodding.

You managed to run away from the party, walking across the patch of grass near your office building. You were aiming for the parking lot, the loud sounds of your colleagues slowly diminishing as you walked away.

It was quieter now, as the setting sun bathed the world in a golden hue. Its reflection on the cars was blinding.

“What did you want to ask me earlier?” you finally broke the comfortable silence that had settled between the two of you.

You were crossing the parking lot, but none of you was eager to part. You passed before Obi-Wan’s car, then yours, and didn’t stop walking until you reached a low wall made of red bricks. You sat on the edge, and Obi-Wan leaned against it as well, right by your side. You had both left your drinks at the party. The sounds of the gathering could barely reach you now. It was late, and at the back of the parking lot, there was no one. Behind you, the small street was empty as well.

“Oh… just… I…”

He took a deep breath. Why was he so nervous? He wasn’t the kind to be nervous…

But then, he was talking to you, and you had a special talent to mess up with his entire world in the best way possible.

“I’ve bought some tickets to go see a play next week,” he finally said, struggling to keep his calm voice.

“Exciting!”

“I was wondering if you would like to go with me… maybe…”

“Oh! That would be nice, yes!”

He gave you a smile, but he knew that you did not fully understand what he meant. He could see it in your eyes. You didn’t take his question as an offer for a date, but for a friendly activity.

He shook his head.

“Maybe we could go to a restaurant before that.”

You slightly frown at him, but nodded anyway.

“Sure, that would be nice.”

“Y/N?”

“Yes.”

“I mean… I’m asking this… not simply as a coworker. Do you understand?”

You looked at him warily.

“As a friend?” you slowly asked, cautious.

Your heart jumped, skipped a beat and burst under your ribs when he shook his head.

“No… I meant… as more than a friend.”

He looked away, setting his eyes on the tip of his brown shoes. He couldn’t stand it anymore, the way you stared at him… as if you longed to read right through him…

“If… if you don’t want to, of course, then… we can simply forget it happened at all. I… I would never ask you anything like this ever again. After all, we do work together and it could make things more complicated and…”

“Obi-Wan?”

He fell silent, looking up at you again.

You gave him a warm smile.

“I’d love to go with you. As… more than friends.”

You grinned at each other.

And as he stared at you, he couldn’t help but study every detail of your features. Couldn’t help but stare at your lips, and he barely noticed the way he leaned down towards them, it was like he was falling and couldn’t help it at all. Stronger than gravity, he couldn’t escape from it…

You didn’t stop him. As you saw him leaning towards you, you didn’t stop him. Instead, you actually tilted up your head to face him even more, to get your lips closer to his…

His hand slowly moved upwards so he could rest his fingertips along your jaw, and you shuddered at the feeling, delightful shivers running up your spine under his touch.

You closed your eyes as his breath fanned across your mouth…

But you both jumped as a loud laughter came breaking the tensed silence that had settled around you. You put some distance between the two of you, the moment broken. You looked in the direction of the laugh, and found a pair of your coworkers, a little inebriated, who were crossing the parking lot and thus walking towards the two of you, probably aiming for the bus stop a few meters down the adjacent street. You cleared your voice and stood up.

“I think I should go home, I’m rather tired.”

Obi-Wan nodded, and you didn’t fail to notice how flushed his cheeks were.

The two coworkers ignored you, and you didn’t mind at all. You were happy to simply walk towards your car with Obi-Wan by your side.

He brushed his fingers against yours, and you did the same, but didn’t hold hands. Still, the gentle, almost shy touch made your hearts jump.

You crossed the few meters separating you from your car, and you spoke again as you were looking for your keys in the pocket of your jeans.

“When is the play, then?”

“Next Wednesday.”

“Okay. That sounds fun.”

“I hope it will be. I… I am very happy you accepted to come.”

You exchanged a shy smile, and Obi-Wan opened your car door for you. You thanked him, resting a hand on the top of the door.

“Good night, Y/N.”

But just as you were about to sit in your car, you turned to him again, staring right into his blue eyes. You studied the two colourful orbs, a few strands of his dark blonde hair falling before them as he was a little dishevelled after a long day.

Your eyes travelled down from his cheekbones, to his cheeks covered by a short beard, to his pink lips. And you couldn’t resist…

Before he could say anything else, you were pressing your lips against his in a kiss.

It was still a little shy, and lasted just long enough for him to realize what was happening and react by kissing you back. Just a few seconds, just enough to make you both breathless. When you pulled away, he leaned further to chase after your lips.

He looked a little stunned when he opened his eyes, and you couldn’t refrain a satisfied grin.

“Well… good night then, Obi-Wan.”

You climbed in your car, and he closed the door behind you. He waved at you as you started the car and finally drove out of the parking lot.

Obi-Wan though, remained for a while standing there, as night was slowly falling upon the world, the party finally dying out.

When he walked to his car, at last, he was grinning like an idiot.

[battle-subway-ghost]

FAIRMECH!!! HIIII HELLO GREETINGS WELCOME!!! Oh I never thought to see you in such a silly little place like this! Quite the human place at it! It's stuffed! It's honestly quite impressive how many of these "users" come here! I always thought mass gatherings were used silly little things like black friday, as the humans would say! You seem to be on business though and not pleasure! We can say it's for one of the times you pranked me, but we should DEFINITELY save a Time (I can use your silly little capitalization as well!) to have fun as humans! Or other sentient creatures!!! (I believe others are here as well! Isn't that amazing? I thought humans dealt poorly with other beings) We should also check on "The Ink" (what a silly and cute nickname the humans have come up with!) I worry that things have not been well! If things were different and we were humans I'd imagine a HORRID STOMACH BUG THE LIKES OF WHICH NEVER HAVE BEEN SEEN BEFORE! Or at least some cramps! Could you imagine having things inside of you? I CAN'T! Oh I can bring my lovely chicken plushie! You know the one! That one!!! With the little red thing up top!!! anywhoooooo!!! I'll leave you to your busywork :D it does seem like a nasty case entanglement, I'm shocked and surprised and stunned that the human managed to survive! Maybe there's an affinity? hmmm Oh well!!! I'll see you around Fairmech, maaaaaybeeeeee next 1,000 years? does that sound good?

oh, Cato. hello.

I did not expect You to contact Me Here.

quite the Human place, indeed.

I am on Business like You said,

and if Things go right, I will be Leaving this well alone Soon.

I am worried for The Ink (yes, an Interesting nickname,)

....

....

yeah. I can't imagine having anything inside of Me either. We should Check on The Ink soon.

You can bring the "plushie", I do not know why You are so enamored by It,

just as I do not know why You are so enamored with Humans.

You confuse Me.

You always have.

as for the Human,

I am surprised He survived as well.

as far as I know He is barely alive

what a shame.

I will see you Sometime. perhaps.

It would be

nice.

[welcometoelliotstable]

Dollhouse

Relationships:

Greg/Gov

(And if you squint) Implied California/New York

Read on AO3

(This is a songfic using the song Dollhouse by Melanie Martinez)

Warning: angst

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hey girl, open the walls

Play with your dolls

I sigh as I walk back into the statehouse again. 5 days a week, only Friday and Saturday for breaks.

I think the only real reason I kept this job was because of Gov, the states are just annoying.

We'll be a perfect family

"Oh Greg you're here! Great, we can start now! Can't have a meeting without filming an episode! Gotta get paid somehow..." Gov greeted mead I walked in. He mumbled the last part, but I heard it. Money's been tight, I realized that a while ago.

When you walk away is when we really play

Gov walks out of the room and immediately Florida runs at me, Louisiana and California close behind him. "Greg!! You're back!"

"I was gone for two days, Florida. You know I come back every time."

Florida isn't the brightest.

You don't hear me when I say

After the meeting, I go to speak to Gov. I always do, not that he ever listens.

"Mom, please wake up

Dad's with a slut

And your son is smoking cannabis"

"Hey I think California might finally have the whole Disneyland thing under control. It's safe to say he can handle himself now" I tell him.

No one never listens

"Sure, yeah" he mumbles, shuffling through papers on his desk.

This wallpaper glistens

"Alright, I'm gonna go sleep then" I tell him. Without waiting for an answer, I go upstairs to my room. It's next to California's and Texas'.

Don't let them see what goes down in the kitchen

Of course, they're fighting again.

I guess tomorrow might be a better day. 

Places, places

Get in your places

"Gov calm down, they're probably fine" Virginia tells Gov.

"No, they need to be here. They need to be sitting right across from me where I can see them or- or-"

Throw on your dress and put on your doll faces

"Greg, can you come comfort him? I'll try to find Loui and Florida" Gin asks me. "Yeah, sure." I reply.

Everyone thinks that we're perfect

"Gov it's okay, nothing's wrong."

He's having a panic attack.

Please don't let them look through the curtains

"Gin will find them, they're okay"

"No, no they aren't I can't- don't-" he chokes between tearless sobs.

Picture, picture, smile for the picture

"I found them!"

"Virginia, thank God you're back!" I exclaim.

Gov takes a few deep breaths, "finally. Now I know you two aren't hurt."

Pose with your brother, won't you be a good sister?

"Alright everyone sit down in your seats, we're going live today" I say, the states mostly know to listen to me. Except New York. He does what he wants.

Everyone thinks that we're perfect

"Alright, live in 3..

2..

1."

Please don't let them look through the curtains

Just after I finish my countdown, Gov shoots me a look that says "thanks for that"

I just simply nod and mouth, "don't thank me, thank Gin for findin' em"

D-O-L-L-H-O-U-S-E

I see things that nobody else sees

The meeting was just as eventful as any other, Texas and Cal got into a fight, Florida passed some questionable laws and Loui just drank to avoid responsibility.

After the meeting was over I did what I normally do and take the video equipment first, then go back to the Table for my sound equipment.

D-O-L-L-H-O-U-S-E

On my way back, I see Cali and Texas still at the table, New York seemingly holding Cal back.

"Don't, B. It's not worth yer time" he tells them.

"Don't tell me what to do, York!" They pull away from him, "I can fight my own battles!"

I see things that nobody else sees

I leave before it escalates.

I don't wanna be part of this mess.

Hey girl, look at my mom

She's got it going on

Gov is in the kitchen, not drinking coffee for once.

Ha, you're blinded by her jewelry

When you turn your back

I walk closer to him instead of continuing to my room. It might be nice to have a normal conversation with him for the first time in who knows how long.

She pulls out a flask

And forgets his infidelity

Turns out I was wrong, “Gov what the actual hell are you doing?!”

He’s drinking.

“Louisiana!” I scream, the tone in my voice harsher than I meant it to be.

Uh-oh, she's coming to the attic, plastic

Go back to being plastic

“Mais, what was dat for?” He says as he runs down the stairs.

“Did you by any chance give Gov vodka?”

No one never listens

“Nah, you know I only drink daiquiris”

This wallpaper glistens

“Sure you do.. just leave okay? Find out who gave him the vodka if you can”

One day they'll see what goes down in the kitchen

“I’m fine, Greg. Stop worrying so much” Gov says, his words are already slurring a bit.

“You need to get out of this addiction, Gov. You were doing so well, what even happened?”

Places, places

Get in your places

“It’s none of your business, Greg! Leave me alone! I hate all of you. You’re all useless.”

Loui looks hurt at the statement, but I just shake my head. Gov is an aggressive drunk, he doesn’t mean it.

He doesn’t mean it.

I just gotta remind myself that.

Throw on your dress and put on your doll faces

He doesn’t mean it towards the states.

He doesn’t mean it towards his coworkers.

He doesn’t mean it towards me.

Everyone thinks that we're perfect

“C’mon Gov, let’s get you upstairs”

“No! Absolutely not! I have work to do!” He screams, shoving me away.

Please don't let them look through the curtains

Louisiana tries to help me calm him down. He tells him, “What would dey all think if dey saw you like this? ‘specially Flo’ida, you know how much he cares ‘bout you, even if he don’t show it.”

“Especially me” I mumble to myself now than anyone else. Gov and Loui can’t hear me.

“Gov,” I start, “Louisiana’s right. You gotta calm down. For the states if not for yourself.”

Picture, picture, smile for the picture

He doesn’t answer, which usually means I’m right but he doesn’t want to admit it.

Pose with your brother, won't you be a good sister?

I take the bottle away from him and place it on the kitchen counter. “Come on, Gov. Let’s go upstairs.”

Everyone thinks that we're perfect

Please don't let them look through the curtains

We get to my bedroom and Gov sits on the bed. “You gotta stop this man, I hate seeing you like this” I say. Not that he’s gonna take me seriously but might as well try.

D-O-L-L-H-O-U-S-E

I see things that nobody else sees

A few hours pass, most of the time Gov just sits there and complains about everything while I edit episodes and send some emails to Ben, Liv and a few others. We were going to have them make a guest appearance again.

D-O-L-L-H-O-U-S-E

I see things that nobody else sees

After I finished my work, I joined Gov on the couch. He’s listening to true crime again, honestly I can’t blame him. That stuff is interesting.

Hey girl (hey girl)

Hey girl, open your walls

Play with your dolls

We'll be a perfect family

“Gov, you wanna go sleep? It’s gotten pretty late” I ask him.

“Mmm I don’t wanna get up” well, that’s a first.

Places, places

Get in your places

“Alright, stay here then. I’ll get you tea” I offer. “Coffee?” He pleads.

“Absolutely not”

Throw on your dress and put on your doll faces

I go downstairs to the kitchen to make tea and see Florida and Louisiana sitting at the table. “You okay, Florida? You look a bit off” I ask. I’ve gotten to know the states pretty well.

Everyone thinks that we're perfect

“I-is Gov okay? I didn’t means to stress him out so much.. I- Loui told me what happened, Greg” he turns to face me.

Please don't let them look through the curtains

“He’s okay, Florida. I promise. He’s gonna go to sleep soon”

“Mais sha, I told ya he’d be alright”

“I guess you were right Loui, I just- I know I’m a lot of trouble but I’ll stop if he needs me to-“ Florida starts, but I cut him off before he can finish, “Florida, no! You make him happy! Sure, he gets stressed when you’re not in his sight but that’s because he feels responsible for you. Almost like a big brother”

Picture, picture, smile for the picture

Pose with your brother, won't you be a good sister?

“I see him as a big brother..” Florida lightly laughs, his voice bitter.

Everyone thinks that we're perfect

“Seriously Florida, he’s okay. I promise.”

Please don't let them look through the curtains

“I believe you, Greg. Thanks.”

“Of course”

D-O-L-L-H-O-U-S-E

I see things that nobody else sees

I grab the tea cup off the stove and proceed upstairs back to my bedroom.

“Here, Gov. drink at least a little bit” I say, handing the cup to him.

“Thanks Greg, I don’t know what I’d- what any of us would do without you”

D-O-L-L-H-O-U-S-E

“It’s my honor, Gov”

I see things that nobody else sees

We lay down next to each other in the bed, and when his hand accidentally brushed mine, my heart skips a beat. After a few minutes pass, the silence only proves Gov has finally fallen asleep.

I quietly get out of the bed and grab the tea cup to take it back to the kitchen.

“I love you” I whisper to him before closing the door to my room, “I really, really do”

I know he’ll never hear it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@uriahcantdraw

[jacksonroseroth]

~The Price~Chapter 18~

Moodboard by @badwolf-in-the-impala none of the pictures are ours

~

Bolting upright, Taddie screamed and began sobbing, struggling to shove Thatcher away as he tried to hold her down. Finally, Thatcher grabbed her arms and spun her to face the mattress, pinning her down as she sobbed, begging him to let her go.

“Taddie, calm down, it’s me!” Thatcher cried, realizing that she was begging for Jack to let her go. Taddie sobbed until her awareness came back as Thatcher pulled his hands to her hips, rubbing his thumb over them until she’d quieted to soft sniffles then began to push against him. He let her up, quickly moving next to her and sliding his hand over her back, watching her with a worried look. “Taddie…Kitten-Wh-”

“It-I’m-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry--I-I had a-a nightmare…Thatcher-” Taddie breathed with a tearful sigh as she buried her face into his neck with a soft sob.

“Shh, shh. I’m here, I’m here. It’s okay, kitten.” He cooed at her, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. He nuzzled her curls and drew his brows together as he whispered, “What happened? Do you want to talk about it?”

“I-I thought--I woke up, you were gone…I-I thought you came back b-but it w-” Taddie gave a shudder and buried herself deeper into his neck with a light whine. “He c-He can-can’t do this to me anymore. He-He can’t. He-He doesn’t control me anymore!”

“Taddie, love, hey, come here…” Thatcher said, sitting up and helping her with him. She sniffled and let out a deep sigh as she curled up against his chest, resting her head on his shoulder. He pressed a few kisses to her forehead and rubbed his hand over her back as he tugged the sheets up and over them. “He doesn’t control you, Taddie. He’s never going to touch you again, I won’t let him. Hey, kitten, look at me.”

Taddie sniffled and lifted her head as he gently wiped her face. She let out a deep sigh as she closed her eyes for a moment before she said, “I d-I don’t want to talk about it, Thatcher. Please. You-You make me forget so-so I want to forget.”

“Ja, of course, kitten.” Thatcher said, kissing her softly. Taddie kissed him back then nuzzled into his cheek as she asked, “What time is it? Please tell me it’s morning.”

Thatcher glanced over his shoulder at the clock, then turned back to her, pressing a kiss to her temple before he said, “It’s 6. Do you want to get up and get ready? We can stay here for another hour or two.”

“Just stay with me for a while…T-Tell me what your family does for Christmas. What should I expect?” Taddie said, her voice tired and exhausted. Thatcher gave her a tight squeeze before his fingers began trailing over her skin as he said, “Friday is a family dinner, causal-Wear something nice, but it doesn’t need to be fancy. Saturday is a free day and Sunday is just traditions-The women baking in the kitchen, the men watching football or rugby, whatever sport we’re feeling that day. Then lunch in the garden greenhouse, sleigh rides through the trails in the forest behind the house. Maybe some ice skating, then dinner.”

“And Christmas Day?

“Presents early in the morning, followed by breakfast. Afterwards, my brothers and their women usually split off for time alone and I was stuck with my parents, usually helping my Mother make some cakes and pies, desserts for after dinner…But now that you’ll be there--”

“We can still do that? It sounds fun? Good way of bonding with your mom? I don’t mind.” Taddie said, shifting to lift her head to him, giving him a sweet smile. She lifted her hand to his cheek, scratching her nails over his cheek. He let out a soft chuckle, nodding along and pressing a kiss to her lips.

“Yeah? We can if you want.”

“So…If all that is going on…When am I supposed to have time to paint? It sounds like you guys are together the entire weekend?” She asked.

“If you want to go up and paint, we’ll go. We’ll be there for meals and such, but if you don’t want to be there at the moment, we don’t have to be. And I’m not going to force you to be, cause there’s gonna be a reason you don’t want to be there and it’ll be my family. I’d never make you stay because they’re family. They should be making you feel comfortable.” Thatcher said, sliding the backs of his fingers over her cheek. She nodded, giving him a sweet smile before she kissed him, softly, then ducked her head under his chin, snuggling closer to him. He let out a deep sigh as he wrapped his arms around her, giving her a squeeze before letting his hand rub over her thigh. After a while, he realized she’d fallen back asleep and he eased her down before he slipped out of bed. He stared at her, sleeping, for a moment, then he grabbed his phone before walking away to make some calls.

~

After Taddie woke up again, they both got up and dressed, quickly packing for the weekend. Taddie had figured they would go straight from Ash’s place to New York on Friday, so Taddie simply packed everything when Thatcher didn’t stop her. She was a little leary about leaving Juniper alone, but Thatcher suggested they bring her along and leave her with Ash, since he was still going to leave some of his men to watch over the house and Ash while they were gone. Once she was packed with her bags by the door, Taddie chased Juniper down as she’d gone a little wild, knowing her mother was leaving and unsure if she was accompanying her or not. Finally, Thatcher wrangled Juniper in his arms, allowing Taddie to strap her into the harness and hook on her leash.

Lucas was at the door when Thatcher opened it and helped bring the bags to the elevator, then once they were all on, hit the button for the parking garage. When the doors opened, four more of Thatcher’s men were waiting and it put Taddie on edge, slightly, worried that they’d found Jack or he’d been lurking around the building, but she didn’t want Thatcher to see how worried she was and pushed the fear away. Thatcher helped Taddie and Juniper into the SUV while he and Lucas loaded the trunk, then he slid in beside her, Lucas and another man getting in the front before they took off toward Ash’s house. Somehow, Oscar had messaged early that morning saying he had Thatcher’s matching pajamas at the house, that he’d had them delivered and they had just arrived. Taddie was already dressed and Thatcher was sufficed to leave in sweats and a hoodie, knowing he’d be forced to change anyway.

They pulled up in front of the house and Thatcher took Juniper as Taddie slid to the door, the new man she didn’t know his name opening the door for her and helping her out. Thatcher slipped out behind her and Juniper squirmed around until Thatcher let her drop and she bounded toward the door, raising on her hind legs and meowing at the door as she pawed at it. Taddie giggled and caught Thatcher’s hand as she went up the path after her, digging into her coat for her house keys.

“Easy, Juni, down. Give Mami a minute.” Taddie cooed at her, shooing her down from the door as she unlocked it and pushed it open. Juniper bounded inside and to Taddie’s room. With a shake of her head, Taddie walked in and closed the door behind Thatcher as she called out, “Ash? We’re here.”

Taddie raised a brow as she heard a series of squeaks and giggles before footsteps ran toward Ash’s bedroom door, then ran back into the room, then back to the door again before it cracked open and her head popped out. “Tad? O-Oh, hey. I, um, I thought you were going to text me?” Ash panted, softly, forcing a sweet, innocent smile. Taddie raised a brow and glanced around, not seeing any sign of Oscar, then looked up at Thatcher, who’d come to the same conclusion she had.

With a soft laugh, Thatcher called out to the man in Swedish and heavier footfalls bounded toward the door and it opened fully, revealing Oscar in just his pants, no shirt. Thatcher raised his brows, stunned and impressed, then snickered as Taddie gave her friend an astonished look and let out a light laugh. “Um, I, uh, I was…But I figured, I have keys and you’re expecting me?--You two get along well last night, then?”

Ash rolled her eyes and made a face at Taddie before she said, “Uh, yeah, you could say we got along real well...” 

Taddie nodded along as she crossed her arms, keeping her brows raised as she said with a smirk, “Uh-huh. Looks like it…Why are you wearing his shirt, Ash?”

Ash glanced down at the shirt she wore, a smirk tugging at the edges of her mouth as she shrugged. “I misplaced mine and Oscar, being the gentleman that he is, kindly loaned me his.”

Thatcher tossed a comment at Oscar in Swedish, a sly, yet confident smirk crossed his face as he nodded and responded in Swedish. Ash gestured between the two men as she said, “Hey! One rule-No Swedish bullshit. English. We’d all like to be part of the conversation, ‘kay?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Oscar said, his hand giving her ass a quick squeeze before he retreated back into the room, closing the door a little more. Ash bit her lip as she struggled with her smirk then turned to Taddie, who blinked a few times and raising her brows at her.

“So…Are we having Christmas or what’s up?” Taddie asked, her and Thatcher snickering to themselves. Thatcher buried his face into Taddie’s curls as his shoulders shook, Taddie’s face beet red as she held back her laughter. Ash mocked laughed at them before she said, “Shove it, Price. Your pajamas are in Tad’s room-Go change.”

“I don’t see you in the pajamas?” Thatcher questioned. After a swift nudge to his ribs from Taddie and a fierce look from Ash, Thatcher snickered and said, “Okay, okay. I’m going, I’m going.”

Thatcher pressed a kiss to Taddie’s temple and left her, crossing the living room to her bedroom, closing the door behind him. Taddie gave Ash a look, giving her a once over, then Ash narrowed her gaze at Taddie before she quickly closed the door, rushing around her room. Taddie giggled and went to the living room, quickly rearranging the couches to make a bigger space in front of the TV, then shrugged off her coat. Ash soon emerged from her room, Oscar behind her, the both of them properly dressed.

“Not. A. Word.” Ash shot at Taddie as she snickered. Oscar gave her a polite nod as the both of them went to the door, Ash unlocking and opening it for him. Taddie noticed he had a piece of notepad paper in his hand as he turned to her and said, “Nothing else, Miss Ashlen?”

“No, just the list, Oscar. Thank you.” Ash said in a honeyed voice that made Taddie raise her brows, surprised. Even more so as Oscar nodded and tugged her hips closer to seal a kiss to her lips. Ash kissed him back, rather eagerly, then gave him a playful push out the door before she shut it.

“Oh, we got along very well with the protection, didn’t we? I hope you used protection at least.” Taddie shot at her, raising her brow at Ash as she turned with an indignant shriek.

“Hey, I’m a lonely woman, I have needs to, okay?!” Ash shot back in a hushed tone, but she was cut short from saying anything else as she heard the door to Taddie’s room open and Thatcher came out, Juniper rushing out now without her harness or leash. Ash arched a brow as she watched him step out, her lips pressed together tightly as she tried to contain the laugh that threatened to escape her she took in the Grinch themed flapjack pajamas he now wore.

“Okay--Why do I have the ass flap? She doesn’t have one…” Thatcher said, turning to show Taddie the back side. Taddie pressed her hands together, holding them to her lips as she suppressed her laugh, then turned to Ash as it slipped out, slightly, and cried, “Ashlen! He was supposed to match us!”

“What are you talking about?” Ash’s lips curved into a smirk as she looked between their outfits, the theme matching for the most part, “He does match–I mean I had to make a few adjustments but–” She shrugged with a wider smirk.

Taddie shook her head at her friend then chuckled as she went to Thatcher, his arm slipping around her waist as he chuckled and said, “It’s fine, kitten. I said I’d wear it…So, what exactly is the agenda today? I was told there were, uhm, adult gummies that were going to be consumed?”

“Thatcher!” Taddie chastised as Ash’s eyes went wide.

“You told him about that?! I wasn’t gonna make it obvious or give him any!” Ash shot, suddenly embarrassed. Thatcher gave a shrug and chuckled as he said, “I’ve been drinking since I was 16. I grew up in Sweden. You think me and my brothers didn’t make that trip to Amsterdam once we were all of age?”

Ash raised her brows, stunned, but only for a moment before she huffed out a sigh and retreated to go find her stash, muttering “Fine…I’ll share.”

Thatcher raised a brow and quickly checked his watch and exclaimed, “Wh-Now? It’s 9 in the morning…”

Ash narrowed her gaze at him, her arms crossing over her chest as her gaze shifted to Taddie before landing back on Thatcher, a sarcastic grin creeping onto her lips. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize Mr. Big Shot Mafia Man was such a fucking prude.” She barked out a laugh before walking away, muttering in a mocking tone, “It’s 9 in the morning!” 

“Hey, I’ve got some personal standards here!” Thatcher called back with a soft chuckle. Taddie giggled and shook her head as she wrapped her arms around his waist and lifted on her toes to press a kiss to his lips.

“What?-You can’t roll with the big girls?” She teased, nipping at his lower lip.

“Oh, I can roll…I just didn’t know you two were such fucking heathens…” Thatcher said, ducking down to kiss her deeply, sliding his hands down to grab the backs of her knees and hoist her up. Taddie let out a squeal and wrapped her arms around his neck, teasing him with another kiss.

Ash made an audible gagging nose as she rounded the corner. “Get a fucking room before I have to bleach my fucking eyeballs.” She said, tossing her assortment of edibles onto the couch.

“Oh, you’re so dramatic!” Taddie called with a laugh, wiggling around until Thatcher set her down, pressing a kiss to her temple, then said, “And we’re watching movies all day? How many Christmas movies could possibly be your favorites?”

“Oh, sweetie, don’t do that…” Taddie said, biting her lip as she pressed a hand to his chest, then glanced at Ash, who’s eye twitched slightly. Taddie giggled and lifted up to kiss his cheek and said, “At least you didn’t say it about Halloween. This is your mess, I’m gonna go start making waffle batter.”

Taddie hurried across the room with a series of giggles as Ash took a step toward him and said, “You’re on thin fuckin’ ice, pal.” 

Thatcher held up his hands in innocence as she advanced on him, then she stopped, narrowing her gaze at him for a moment before he said, “I just wanna know the plan, Ash. Your way of Christmas is way different than mine.” He chuckled as she took a few steps back and crossed her arms, looking him over.

“That’s fair, I suppose…” Ash sighed. “Have a little faith in the process though. It’s very American, but it’s worth it. At least to us it is.” 

“Is there anything I can do? I’m a decent cook?” Thatcher offered, following Ash to the middle of the room, where she could see Taddie in the kitchen, gathering ingredients on the island before hauling the Kitchen Aid mixer onto the counter.

“We need the mattresses blown and set up? Ash, can you show him, please? And be nice about it? Since he’s offering to help?” Taddie said, giving her friend a look. Ash repeated her words in a mocking tone, resulting in a tongue-out war, then a middle-finger-off before they both giggled at the other.

“Fuck-Fine, I guess. Come on, Swedish Meathead.” Ash said, smirking as Taddie called after her, “Ashlen!”

Thatcher smirked and shook his head as he followed Ash down to the hall closet, pulling out three air mattresses along with three sets of sheets. After digging around a little more, she found the air pump and shooed him back to the living room. Ash showed him how to set up the beds properly, then left him to his devices and went to Taddie in the kitchen as she poured batter into the greased and warmed waffle skillet for the first turn, filling the other side.

“Okay, who is this kid? What kind of Christmas does he have? A boring one?” Ash asked, leaning against the counter for a moment before she pushed off and went to the fridge to grab a carton of eggs, a package of shredded cheese, a package of sausage links, and a pre-packaged container of mixed fruit.

“A traditional one? By the way he makes it sound, they do the same thing every year.” Taddie said, glancing at Ash as she pulled out a few pans and skillets, setting them on the stove, opposite her at the counter.

“Sounds boring.” Ash scrunched up her nose. “I much prefer our chaotic Christmas traditions that are always evolving into something new, but that’s just me…So I suppose I can let it slide. Just this once.”  

“Well, it’s a good thing he’s down for a chaotic Christmas. Don’t forget-You’re the one that told me he’s in a metal band. How can he not like a little chaos and bucking tradition? I think it’ll be fun and you two will bond.” Taddie said with a soft snicker as Ash gave a shudder and shot her a look.

“Let's not get ahead of ourselves now with the whole bonding thing, okay? I’m tolerating him at best. And even that’s pushing it.” Ash rolled her eyes. Taddie shot her a look and said with a soft snicker, “Tolerating, huh? Ash, you slept with his bodyguard.”

“Exactly–His bodyguard, not him. That’s entirely different.” Ash scoffed.

“What happened to not wanting anything to do with the mob?--So, are you gonna see Oscar again?” Taddie asked with a teasing lilt to her voice that made Ash shoot her a look as she broke several eggs into a bowl, whisking furiously. Taddie snickered and carefully picked out each waffle, pouring in more batter and continuing the process. The women cooked as Thatcher set up the beds in the living room, making his way to the kitchen when he was done.

Taddie had a bowl of blueberries, a bowl of blackberries, and a bowl of chocolate chips, each time she poured in more batter after making a batch of plain, she sprinkled in a bit of one, giving them some kind of variety. Thatcher snagged a few chips and popped them into his mouth as he slid a hand over Taddie’s hip and said, “All set up…So, what’s next? Breakfast then movies? Breakfast then presents?”

“We usually do breakfast then presents.” Ash stated. “That way we can get stoned off our asses and binge movies the rest of the day. You know. Tradition.” 

Taddie gave her a look then smirked before glancing up at Thatcher as she said, “We open presents to the Grinch, then fight over what to watch next, but usually end up settling on choosing every other.”

As Thatcher reached for the blackberries, Taddie smacked his hand away as he said, “When me and--Ah-That hurt, kitten--When me and Tommy were younger, Mother made sure we had all the old Donald Duck movies lined up for us as we opened our gifts. Then we ate before trying out our bikes first, Father insisted on exercise. Then we played with our toys.” Thatcher snuck a few blackberries when she didn’t have the time to respond fast enough, then pinched as his side as she shooed him away.

Thatcher snickered and moved to the middle stool of the counter, leaning his arms on it as he said, “Can I do anything else? I don’t want to be intrusive, but I’m still a guest, I’d like to contribute?”

Taddie glanced at Thatcher with a sweet smile, then looked at Ash, who stole several glances at him as she poured the egg mixture into a large cast iron skillet, then popped the sausage links into another pan before she let out a sigh and said, “You can get things set, I guess. Plates are in the cabinet behind me and silverware is there.” She gestured to one of the drawers. Thatcher nodded and stood, moving around the island to investigate, quickly grabbing 3 plates, 3 forks and 3 napkins before he turned and asked, “Table, the counter?”

“Just lay it out on the counter. We do buffet style then pig out on the mattresses. Like the heathens we are, we open presents after we get our second helping, and eat while we open presents.” Taddie said, looking at Ash as they both laughed and smirked at each other. Thatcher chuckled and nodded, setting out each place setting in a row before looking through all the cupboards for bowls and things to put the food in or on. When he was done, Ash directed him to where the presents were in her room, giving him specific and detailed instructions on what to and not to touch in her room, then Taddie told him where hers were and he set off.

~

Let me know what you guys think! <3 If you'd like to be added to the taglist, send me a message! <3

Taglist: @badwolf-in-the-impala @sweetwombatpizza

[tongueofcat]

Millie’s Memories

Chapter Three

Fandom: Monster of the Week (TTRPG)

Pairing: F/F

Tags: POV First Person, Cancer, Death, Grief/Mourning, Drunkenness, Crying, Children, Teenagers, High School, Undressing, Teasing, Suggestive Themes, Locker Room, Texting, Cell Phones, Flirting, Party, Teen Crush, Marijuana, Underage Drinking, Graffiti, Blood and Injury, First Aid, Kissing, Babysitting, and Makeup

Word Count: 366

Masterlist | Link to Ao3

Important Notes: N/A

“I’m not a kid.”

Jamie eyes me from her perch leaning against the brick wall in an alley between school buildings, her brow quirking with interest like it always does before smirking, “Yeah?”

I feel my face getting warmer, “I’m fourteen. Teen. I’m a teen.”

Her smirk fades as she pushes off from the wall, turning her body to me. There’s a small wave of confusion that flows over her face before she shrugs, “Damn, sorry short stack, you look about ten.”

I falter, my brow furrowing as I watch her slink over to me, then I finally speak, “Ten? That doesn’t even make sense, I would be in elementary school!”

“I guess you do have pretty big boobs for a ten year old.”

“Yeah! Hey, wait, what?!” I reflexively cover my chest, a blush burning at my cheeks as I turn around, trying to hide myself. She laughs behind me, the sound bouncing off the brick alley walls.

“Hey, cool it, just pointing out the obvious,” I turn to her and she’s striding towards me, her hand finding my shoulder. I stiffen slightly as she leans in, her lips brushing some of my braids before she begins to speak.

“So…” I feel a knot start to form in my stomach as I register her breath on my ear, “What are they? Like double d’s or something?”

I turn on her, eyes flaring as I push her away, “What the heck?!”

Jamie laughs again, staggering just a little from my push and grinning. I watch her wipe a tear from her eye and her face eases into a small smile. I’m suddenly not as mad as I was before.

“Sorry, don’t mean to offend,” She gives a little mock bow, “I’m just jealous.”

I tell myself I’m watching her, readying myself for what might come next, but really I’m studying her, taking her in. Something about her is fascinating to me. I swallow and move past her, back into the sunlight of the school parking lot.

“Hey teen!” She calls and I turn to look back at her, “You busy this Friday?”

“No.” I hear myself say, answering her almost immediately. She smirks.

“Good to know.”

[invisiblerambler]

Lucky for all of you my brain is full of bees tonight, and I don't have therapy until Friday.

This is going to be entirely incoherent and a meditation on about thirty things at once.

School started last week and naturally my body reacted in a very normal way which is activating my fight or flight in a way I'm not sure any other single thing in my life does, actually I'm almost sure of that.

My instinct is to name off all the things I like about the program and the opportunities it's brought me in order to not look like an asshole, but honestly it's been really hard and it's hard not to feel like everyone secretly hates or even worse just tolerates me.

I am aware it is probably my own damage and trauma but that doesn't help. The utmost awareness of everything about this situation isn't doing fucking anything to lower my resting heart rate or feel less like my skin is crawling with bees. The answer is probably to get back on an anti anxiety medication but the expected challenge with that is the idea of finding a new provider in my new state and going through the process of titrating up on medication sounds completely awful actually. I know the alternative is suffering for the next 8 or 9 months for what will amount to a couple hours of work on the front end, but I can barely cook for myself right now much less manage something that complex.

I am forcing myself to hopefully for the final time go to the DMV tomorrow and get my drivers license done. I will be honest if it wasn't an election year I would not be worried about getting it done in a timely way because as a student you get a grace period and my previous state's license is good until 2028 so I wouldn't be seeing the inside of a DMV anytime soon.

But it is an election year and after going twice this summer with bad results (half my fault, but also fuck real id) I need to just close the loop on this whole bureaucratic nightmare.

I also need to exploit to it's logical conclusion the fact that I am basically a free agent at my job presently so why wouldn't I just do every single boring task during work hours while I can get paid for it.

I also wrote out a list of the people who I need to follow up with either over email or text. It makes me feel sick because I have a horrible fear that these people don't actually want to speak to me or otherwise engage and not that they just got busy and lost track of our correspondence.

It was really comforting to talk to D the other night. I felt so significantly less alone hearing that she had been in a similar way singled out by a peer.

I didn't realize how not seriously literally everyone had taken what happened until she actually listened.

I don't think she would make a lunch invitation without seriousness behind it. And I don't need an excuse to ditch work for a couple hours and go across town.

I did make a dentist appointment today so everyone clap for that.

Life admin (mostly) feels easier than things like doing school work which is genuinely like pulling teeth. I am being so avoidant of everything to have to do with school it's like I'm allergic to it.

Maybe if I write it down enough times I won't actually have to do any of it.

I hate that school makes doing every other thing in my life feel awful.

Including but not limited to life admin.

Everything is a lot, and I'm trying to be okay with that instead of feeling like I have to fix it. It will even out, I will even out. (I hope)

[kylesvariouslistsandstuff]

Big slate drop from the Diz, ahead of their CinemaCon presentation next week... Some changes, some new additions, some slot-fillings...

Some of these dates are to the shock of no one:

10/18/2024: A REAL PAIN

12/06/2024: NIGHTBITCH

04/11/2025: THE AMATEUR

10/10/2025: TRON: ARES

05/22/2026: THE MANDALORIAN & GROGU

06/19/2026: TOY STORY 5

07/10/2026: MOANA (Remake)

A REAL PAIN recently ran at Sundance, now it's a Searchlight movie, it's a comedy drama starring Jesse Eisenberg. Good get for them.

NIGHTBITCH is a new Searchlight addition to the schedule that sounds quite cool, a horror comedy that will go into limited release, maybe for a potential Oscar run? Amy Adams as someone who is convinced they're turning into a dog at night? I'd see that.

Thriller THE AMATEUR vacated this coming November for next spring. TRON-in-name-only debuts fall 2025, instead of a Christmas slot like TRON: LEGACY did. AVATAR 3 currently has that locked up. It also didn't opt for the summer, but I'd imagine the VFX need plenty of time. TRON: LEGACY also took a good amount of time to come together, and we want The Grid looking as good as it can.

TOY STORY 5 was obviously going to be Pixar's summer 2026 release after Bob Iger said it was aiming for 2026... It sure as heck wasn't going to be the studio's spring 2026 title. Also, who's directing? No word on that? And yet, no word on what the 3/6/2026 Pixar movie is. Still scheduled on the same day as Warner Bros. Pictures Animation's THE CAT IN THE HAT movie, which took the date after Disney had already claimed it for a Pixar film. The game of chicken there still hasn't ended.

MOANA remake also unsurprisingly swam back a year, as it was nowhere near production and you've got the actual MOANA sequel coming out in November. Would've been too close of a release. (And even then, a remake of the original coming out a year and a half after the sequel is still overkill to me, but whatever.)

Everything else for 2025 remains in place: The four Marvel movies (doubt they're gonna put FOUR out this year), ELIO, SNOW WHITE, ZOOTOPIA 2, AVATAR 3, etc. Nothing has filled other slots Disney claimed for that year:

03/07/2025

05/23/2025

Chances are, those just go to 20th Century/Searchlight titles. Memorial Day is a pretty prime slot though, so I reckon that goes to something good-sized that's been in the works for quite some time. MALEFICENT 3, maybe? That recently announced sequel to FREAKY FRIDAY? Or that D+ LILO & STITCH remake gets upped to theatrical? Could be anything.

Either more stuff gets shifted after CinemaCon, or things stay the same for a while. It's worth noting that this sizable slate update comes after Disney Pictures got its new president, David Greenbaum. Nothing greenlit under him just yet is on here, as these things take time, but we're definitely seeing the last of his predecessor's efforts finally coming out.

I'm over here still wondering what's up with Suzi Yoonessi's original fantasy film that she was directing for Disney Animation, and if we'll get that somewhere between the triple-decker sequel offerings of MOANA 2, ZOOTOPIA 2, and FROZEN III. Iger had previously said that FROZEN III was aiming for 2026, but Disney curiously didn't slot it in the Thanksgiving 2026 frame that was previously locked for a WDAS movie... Maybe FROZEN III has to wait a little bit? Or Suzi's film somehow comes out between early 2025 and mid 2026, with FROZEN III following in the fall? I don't know. Does that film even still exist?

Plot thickens, as always...

[frankensteinsfriend]

The basic backstory is this:

The Last Saturday in April I drag myself home from work feeling, if nothing else, just kinda “meh”. Fine mostly. My dad stops to get captain d’s and everything in me says “you aren’t hungry, you’ll feel bad if you eat that, don’t get it” and so I reject getting food. I realize I really don’t have an appetite.

It’s an hour later. I’m sitting on the couch and I lean over to pet my dog when sharp pain strikes my lower right abdomen. It’s sudden, and surprising, and I go “huh that’s weird”. But it keeps coming, and getting worse, and I can’t get comfortable. I go upstairs and lay down, a heating pad on my stomach. I hurt. I continue to hurt. I begin to wonder if I might have appendicitis. No appetite and lower right side pain, never had my appendix out, makes sense. But I HATE the idea of going to the ER and then feeling embarrassed because it was nothing, so I suffer. I go to bed and say if the pain wakes me up I’ll go to the ER.

Anyway, so I survive the night and move on. Pain continues on and off, until I hit a Saturday that I’m working again, so two weeks from the start of this. Pain. Pain and suffering. Leg pain, lower right side pain, nausea, dizziness, can’t stand without swaying and feeling lightheaded, legs so weak they may as well not be there. I’m closing shift so I can’t go home, so I hold on. (Later I’d be told by one of my bosses to PLEASE just text her next time and she’d fill in. This was surprising to me.) my coworkers are concerned, especially because I keep excusing myself both to go to the bathroom and to lay with my head on my desk in the back for a few minutes at a time. When I come back from another long break, my coworkers have pulled out the chair and demanded I sit for the hour, at least, and refuse to let me do too much shelving.

Time pases and Monday comes, and I still hurt. I realize I should call my clinic. They get me an appointment the following day.

My doctor pokes around and says “it doesn’t sound like the appendix, it sounds like gallbladder. let’s get you blood work and an ultrasound.

Blood work comes back normal. The nurse is surprised when I say I’m still in pain and suggests pepto Bismol, and when I say it doesn’t help, she says “try a little baking soda in water. You’ll burp and relieve the gas. Anyway, you still want the ultrasound?”

I go get the ultrasound and a few hours after my doctor calls me like “you have a 7mm gallbladder polyp. We’re sending you to a GI doctor.”

After a week of waiting the person who does scheduling comes back and says “ok I faxed them they’ll get you in.”

I get the next possible appointment

The doctor says “doesn’t sound like a gallbladder problem. Polyps have no symptoms usually. Anyway, sounds like your appendix so before we refer you to a surgeon let’s get a CT scan and more bloodwork.”

So I get the CT scan.

CT scan runs, I get results that night on my patient portal. Basically the gallbladder is “normal” and the polyp isn’t even mentioned. There’s a differently sized 1.5cm ovarian cyst, and mild free fluid in the cul-de-sac that is suspicious for partially ruptured dominant follicle or functional ovarian cyst, “potentially” symptomatic.

They suggest another CT scan with contrast to focus on pelvic area.

The scheduling GI doctor messages me through the portal to say that the GI doctor is ordering a pelvic ultrasound. The imaging place calls me the next day and suggests I come in at 3 that day.

Unnerving, as the first time with them the impression was that they HAD no appointments available (mostly) and now it’s like “hey today good?”

But it was not, alas, so next Friday when I’m off is that follow up. By then, we’ll know our next steps. But this whole ordeal has pissed me off. Gallbladder polyp just disappears on the CT scan? Or just not worth mentioning? Ovarian cyst didn’t show on the ultrasound? the same place and theoretically the same doctor reviewed the scans. What the hell? Also the appendix just like, wasn’t even visible on the CT which is funny considering that’s the main reason we did the CT.

Anyway life sucks and I’m tired. I wish they’d just determine “gallbladder” and I’d get the surgery and I’d go “woo! I feel better!” And be done.

Thinking I should chronicle my gallbladder polyp/not gallbladder (?) ordeal on this blog while also chronicling my Halloween movies watch throughs

Since this blog is a quiet little corner and I’m frustrated and want to vent in a way that doesn’t bother anyone

[hotchnerxo]

Need You Now ( One shot)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader Words: 4.9k Summary: You know how to press his buttons. And especially after a stressful week like this, both of you need stress relief. Contains: PURE SMUT! IF UNDER 18, DNI! Brat taiming, daddy kink, sir kink, rough sex, d/s relationship sort of, swearing. Oral (both receiving), unprotected sex ( stay safe my lovelies) A/N: This has been in my WIP since early december. Finally got this done and boy what a ride! Feedback is always more than appreciated.

This friday was just like any other friday. Mostly work at the office, finishing up case files from the consults earlier this week. The whole crew was in deep concentration, only sound coming from the keyboards. Your boss, and your partner was having a meeting with the director in his office. Second in command, Rossi was in his own, typing away on his computer as well. It was a slow day, for sure.

The week had been long, as the whole team returned home from a case late last night, leaving everyone exhausted. The case took four whole days, and a very limited amount of sleep which for sure isn’t a good combo.

What made things even more frustrating was the fact that you have barely seen your boyfriend all week. He’s been buried at work and juggling a million things at once, as he always does. He makes it look almost easy, if you didn’t know any better. The relationship is a rather new, but open one to the team. The both of you do your best to keep it out of work, especially during a case. Professionalism is important to the both of you.

But you had gotten used to sharing a room with him even during cases, whenever you’re out of town. It feels amazing to go to sleep next to him, being held by him. Not to mention when you both need to relieve some stress. But this week, you’ve barely gotten a kiss from him. He’s been so stressed and tense all week and you’re more than willing to help him relax.

You miss him. You miss being close to him and need him. As always, he looks incredible in his well tailored suits and expensive ties and watches. You love him for way more than just his exterior, of course, but in this state of need, his extremely handsome features keep getting your attention. Plus, seeing him talking with senators and directors and whoever, fitting in perfectly with the ‘big players’ made the man even more attractive in your eyes.

The clock strikes two as the concentration is starting to break and everyone’s getting tired. A quiet shatter took place and you joined in, but only half mindedly. You keep your eyes on your boss’ closed curtains. You’re not sure what the others are talking around you, all you can think about is your boyfriend having a serious conversation with the director inside of his office, stern and professional in his gorgeous suit. Sitting at his desk, looking so authoritative and just gorgeous. His big hands on his desk, head slightly tilted as he does when he listens carefully. You find it adorable, especially as he doesn’t realize he’s doing it.

Oh his hands. Oh the things you would rather see his hands doing right now. Maybe feel you under the tight skirt you put on today, just for him. Or around your throat while he whispers his dirty words to you. How he’d manhandle you, pin you to the wall and have his way on you, get his stress out on you in the most pleasurable way.

“What do you think (Y/N)?” you hear Jennifer ask, but the sentence doesn’t register in your brain any more than that. The blond looks at you with an amused impression on her face. She takes a look at the direction of your eyes, and chuckles as she realizes you’re looking at their boss’ office intensely. “Do I even want to know what’s in your brain right now?” she tries to ask again, still not getting a response from you.

Emily rolls her eyes and goes to snap her fingers in front of you, bringing you down from your trance. “Hello? Earth to (y/n), you still with us?” she calls for you and you can’t help but blush as you realize you might have been in your head for awhile.

“Sorry, sorry” you apologize, physically turning back to your friends. They all now demand answers to your absence. A lot of raised eyebrows and curious eyes were looking at you as you went to explain “I’m just worried for him” . You took a quick glance once again in the direction of your boyfriend’s office. “He’s been buried in work for a couple of weeks now and this week's case, for sure, didn’t help. And now the director’s been in his office for almost two hours”.

For your luck the team agrees, they’ve noticed the same thing. How tense Hotch was during the case, barely got any sleep and just has been trying to power through. “But I also get it, as it is almost the end of the year and every case and report needs to be evaluated and done. I’d be stressed too, even if I had to do a fraction of what he has on his shoulders” Emily thinks and the others agree. You included. You’re so proud of him and you know he is the best at his job. But you can’t help but worry.

Half an hour later, the office door finally opens and the director walks out. He nods at the team as he passes and leaves the bullpen, leaving a cloud of relief behind. You take a deep breath and get up, heading towards the once again closed door. Once you reach it, you take a look behind you and as no one was paying attention to you, you adjust your clothes a tiny bit and knock on the door.

Hearing him tell you to come in, you take a last look at your outfit. You’re wearing a tight tank top and skirt with an oversized cardigan to cover it. You pull the tank top a tiny bit lower, revealing your bra just the right amount. You open the door and greet him quietly “Got a moment?”

He raises his eyes from the paper just for a couple of seconds. “Hey, yeah come in. Give me a moment to finish this, okay?” he turns back to the file in front of him. His face is in deep frown and he looks tired. You take off your cardigan and toss it on the leather couch. You watch him writing something and the back of his hand brushing over the writing constantly, leaving the back of his left palm stained. You step closer to his desk, taking a seat on it, right next to his hand so it’s impossible for him to notice how short your skirt actually is.

He drops his pen and leans back on his chair. His eyes finally take in what you’re wearing and you can’t help but notice him holding back a smirk. “Is this what you’ve been wearing all day?” he asks, looking deeply in your eyes. His hand goes to draw circles on your thigh, sending shivers down your spine.

“Long day?” you ignore his question. He nods in agreement, not taking his eyes off of you for a moment. “I need you, Aaron” you whine and he tilts his head slightly.

“Is that so?” his eyes following the outline of your body and moving up to meet your eyes again. “Is that why you’re dressed like this all day at the office? To get my attention?”

“You’ve been so boring” you roll your eyes, knowing exactly what buttons to press to get a reaction out of him. His hand drops from your thigh. “I’ve just wanted your attention, but nothing. Maybe I’ll just go home and play with my toys.” you stand up and take a few steps backwards, causing the man to stand up as well. You head towards the door. You open your mouth to speak but as the man harshly pushes you to the wall, covering your body with his, only a small moan comes out.

“Boring, huh? Oh, I will show you boring, sweetheart” he whispers in your ear “But oh please, do continue with what you were going to say” he encourages, a flame in his eyes telling you to tread carefully. You try to think of your words, but his lips now so close to yours makes your brain short circuit. His breath is hot on your skin, lips hovering above yours.

“Maybe” you start and you see his eyes darken even more “maybe, my toys can satisfy me better than you, old man” you tease him, knowing it will drive him wild. You know it will get under his skin just the best way and you will have a long night ahead of you after that comment.

“In that case” he steps back and creates a small space between your bodies. “I was going to take you right here, right now. I mean, who am I to deny a lady from something that they need, right?” He walks back and sits on his chair. He leans to his forearms and looks right to your soul “but as you decide to be a brat, I’m going to make you wait. You’re not in charge here, sweetheart. And you and me both know, those toys can’t do to you what I can” he leans back and he watches you leave the office, legs trembling.

You’re sure your legs will give out any moment as you lower yourself back to the bullpen. You navigate to your own desk and just stare at your files with a blank stare on your face. There was no way you would be able to focus on them for the rest of the day. All you could think about was Him.

You’re not sure if you’re upset over the fact that you did not end up on your knees in his office. Or have that smug smile between your legs until he’s ready to bend you over his desk.

But at the same time, excitement runs under your skin, knowing he will have his way with you. You know he will punish you in the most pleasurable way. What a way to relieve the stress of the week.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost” Reid is the first to say something and it catches your attention. The whole team was now curious and staring at you.

“Don’t worry about it” you try to say, but you knew none of them were going to stop there. They all started asking questions, wanting to know what happened and what he said to you, all of them thinking he’d said something rude or bad in his state of stress.

But what they don’t know is that it was everything but that. He’d said all the right words, he’d done all the right things and made you feel like your skin was on fire wherever he had touched you. What they don’t know is your need for their boss right now. Have him between your legs, pin you against the wall and forget about the stress for a moment.

Not a moment too early, the clock struck three and Aaron entered the bullpen and walked up to his team. “Go home, everyone! Good job this week. The director gave us a lot of feedback, we’ll go through them first thing on Monday, but nothing to worry about. You’ve all done great” he goes to explain, looking every member in the eye as he speaks. He even has a small smile on his lips, it’s clear he’s proud of his team.

He looked at everyone, but you. And it was killing you inside. You tried to remain calm but as you were trying to seek the attention from him, he made it his mission to not give it.

It was probably the hardest thing he’d done all week. To keep his eyes off of you when you sit at your desk, looking so tempting and innocent. All he wanted to do was to soak in the image of you, clearly still hot and needy for him. But instead of doing that, he turns away and leaps up the stairs back to his office to gather his belongings, ready to head home as well.

“That was cold,” Emily speaks as she gathers her things. “Are you going to be alright?”

You assure them that there’s nothing to worry about and you put your big cardigan back on your shoulders. The team leaves first, but you hold back to wait for Aaron. He and Dave exchange a few words at his office. It takes a couple of minutes for the men to separate and your boyfriend to exit his office.

“Ready?” He asks dryly. His face is totally unreadable and it makes you gulp. You’re not sure if he’s asking if you’re ready to get going or if you’re ready for the evening you have ahead of you. You end up nodding, the answer remaining the same for both questions.

The anticipation is thick in the air. He’s clearly taken on his role in your little game. He’s silent and cold even. But even when he’s like this, he can’t turn off the gentleman side of him. He can’t help it but hold the doors open for you and let you enter the elevator before him. Both of those sides of him remind you why you fell for him in the first place.

The car ride goes by in silence. He’s fully focused on the road, but you’re dying for his attention already. You love the way he usually rests his palm on your thigh as he drives, but not today. It feels empty without his big, strong hand on top of it. So, you decide to draw his attention to what he’s missing.

At first, you fidget with the hem of your skirt between your fingers. Just enough for him to notice. And once you know you’ve gotten his attention, you draw the hem up, just a few inches. A chuckle escapes your mouth as you watch his knuckles whiten around the steering wheel. You didn’t mean to laugh, but the way his lips tighten to a fine line tells you it is going to be worth it.

If the man wasn’t so obedient to the law, he’d possibly run all the red lights he could, just to get home faster. He tried his hardest to hold his composure, not to give in and give you exactly what you want. Not yet. But he’s had a long week and he’s tired. And after all, he’s just a man. It’s taking every last bit of him to keep his hands off of you.

Once the engine is turned off, you hop out of the car. You sprint to the front door of your apartment and you hear his heavy footsteps following you close behind. You push the door open and rush inside. Once he’s gotten close enough to you, his hand grasps you by your waist. “Where do you think you’re going?” he basically growls. His fingers are rough on your skin.

You hear the door slam shut and just seconds later, you find your own back against it. His body is quick to cover yours, and only the scent of him gets your knees to buckle. His lips are hovering over yours and his eyes are dark as he stares into yours. You tilt your chin up just a little, trying to close the distance between your lips. But it’s for nothing. You find no words, now that you’re so close to him.

“Hm?” he encourages you to continue and brushes his nose slightly to yours “No clever come back? What a shame” he speaks until he can’t hold himself back any more. He crashes his lips against yours, pulling you into a bruising kiss. His body has boxed you in against the door, to make sure you have no way to escape.

Your hands go to work on his tie, but he quickly commands you to quit it. “You will not get to touch, until I say so” Aaron orders, but that doesn’t stop you. With a grin on your lips, you continue to loosen his tie and manage to open a button on his shirt. But he’s quick to grasp both of your hands, holding them by your wrists. “Why can’t you follow a simple command? I thought I’ve taught you better” he mutters between kisses.

“I was” you begin but the fire behind his eyes tell you to be careful with your words. “I was going to go and find the toys. Maybe they can teach you a thing or two, old man” you whisper, your courage giving out on your words.

At times, you curse your bratty mouth. This time definitely being one of those. “Jump” he orders and you do exactly that. Your legs go to wrap around him and with a bruising grasp, he holds you against his body. “I’ll show you a thing or two, and if you’re still able to speak afterwards, you can tell me if those toys are good for anything” Aaron growls to your ear before he carries you to the bedroom.

You knew you had him exactly where you wanted him, you had gotten under his skin and made him forget about everything else around you. You were the center of his attention and his only goal was to make you his and make his brat behave.

The bed creaks underneath you as he throws you on to it. Your legs still hang over the edge, just enough for him to stand between them. His gaze alone is making you seek friction between your legs. It’s electrifying and blinding. He stands between your legs, tossing away his tie and jacket and you can’t help but stare at his fingers as he goes to unbutton his shirt.

The bulge in his slacks seems painful already, and you’re more than eager to ease his discomfort. You instinctively lick your lips as you eat him up with your eyes. His chest and torso are toned and strong. His shoulders are broad and his arms look absolutely delicious, even if they’re still covered by his shirt. “Enjoying the view, brat?” his hand goes to palm himself over his pants and it leaves you salivating. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I am going to show you some things tonight, but because you’ve been so mouthy today, I’m going to use it for myself first”.

He orders you on your knees and you don’t recall yourself ever falling as fast as you do now. Your hands reach up for his belt, but he’s quick to slap them away. “I told you. You. Do not. Get to. Touch” he spits out and your hands drop to your sides. “Good girl” he whispers ever so quietly to your obedience.

His hands are quick to open his belt and pants. He slides them down along with his boxers and you’re right at eye level with his crotch. You lick your lips as his own hands wrap around his cock, pumping it a couple of times right in front of you.

Once he gives you his permission, you eagerly wrap your mouth around it. Even if you’ve done this many times before, the size of him still catches you off guard sometimes. His fingers are soft in your hair, but his grip is quick to tighten and push you further on his cock. He’s waited for this long enough, he’s been patient with you and your bratty mouth. It is his time to get a reward for it. “There you go” he encourages you as you move your head back and forth on him. “See? I’ve wanted your dirty little mouth on me all day” Aaron tilts his head back a little as the tip of him brushes against the back of your throat. You even hear a small curse coming out of his mouth, which is all the encouragement you need.

Once you get more comfortable around him, you move your tongue along his length. Your hand goes to his base and squeezes slightly. You look up to him through your eyelashes, asking for permission to touch. But the man didn’t seem to care at the moment, he was enjoying it too much. You loved the little curse from him earlier and you’re dying to hear it again. You let him push you down just a little bit further on his cock, taking it all. You swallow around him and there it is.

“Fuck” he swears at the sensation. If he had any less self control, he’d let himself cum in your mouth. But he had some other plans, so he had to stop himself. “Off” he commands and you obey. A drop of saliva is glistening on your lips and his thumb goes to softly wide it off. “Strip. And don’t make me tell you again”.

You’re now eager to please him, you’ve had enough of your fun. You’re now desperate to feel him and make him feel good. You let your skirt drop down to the floor and toss your tank top over your head.

He slowly strokes himself to the sight of you, undressing in front of him. Only the sight of you makes his brain short circuit and the only thing in his head is to please you and make you squirm under his touch. You take off your bra and toss it to the floor as well.

His patience snaps and he pushes you on your back to the bed. His hand is firmly on your throat, tilting your chin up slightly. His lips crash down on you again and it makes your back arch. His fingers leave your throat and come to caress your cheek. His facade breaks momentarily, your safety and wellbeing is always priority to him and he wants to make sure you know it. “Color?”

“Green” you answer quickly. “Please, Aaron. I need you so bad”.

“Not what I was looking for, Angel” his fingertips trace your skin so lightly it gives you goosebumps. “Will you behave yourself?” his fingers trace down on your stomach all the way to your thighs as his eyes are looking deep into yours.

“Y-yes” you gasp as his hand traces over your underwear. “Sir” you make sure to add and it works like a switch in him. He grins in approval and kisses your jawline up all the way to your ear.

“Good girl” he whispers and with a trail of rough kisses finds his way between your thighs. Exactly where you’ve wanted him for hours. He hums as he pulls down your soaked underwear “look at you. So wet and I haven’t even touched you. Too bad you decided to be a brat, or I’d gotten to taste this sweet little cunt hours ago”.

For a man of few words, Aaron Hotchner has a dirty mouth. And you’re obsessed.

His hands are firmly on your hips, holding you down. He makes sure that you’re watching him as he goes down on you and only the sight of him makes you buck your hips. “Be a good girl for a change and daddy will take good care of you” he says dryly and with a smirk, plants kisses on your inner thigh.

His breath is warm and his tongue slowly licks up your folds. You let your head sink into the mattress and every last bit of tension and build up stress leaves your body. There’s nothing else but you and him and this moment. He knows your body so well, it’s kind of scary. As his tongue works around your clit, you can’t hold back your moan anymore.

“Isn’t that the most delicious sound out there” his tone is dark but he’s quick to go back down. The way he eats you out never fails to surprise you. Your little whimpers only fuel him and he could go on for days, just to hear you moan out his name. “I’m not sure if I should let you cum yet” he thinks out loud, slowing his pace. He could tell you were getting close, and he can’t let you have all the fun to yourself.

“Sir, please” you find yourself begging for him already and your hips buck at the loss of contact with his mouth. “I’ll be good. Daddy please let me cum”.

“You should have thought of that before” Aaron’s laugh has always been one of your favorite things about him, but at this moment you couldn’t help but whine. “Turn around” his tone goes back to dark again and you don’t hesitate to obey.

“I’ll do anything, sir. Please just let me cum” you whine. His hands are tight on your hips, you’re sure they’ll leave a mark but you don’t mind. He positions himself behind you and traces your spine with one of his hands.

“Anything, huh? We’ll see about that” he’s decided that he’s had enough of waiting. He’s been patient enough with you.

With a harsh thrust, he pushes himself in you, leaving you to scream out his name. It stings, but it’s quick to turn into pleasure. At first his pace is slow and careful, but only at first. “When I saw you in the skirt today, all I wanted was to bend you over my desk and have you right then and there” he speaks. His husky voice is enough to make you see stars, not to mention every time he thrusts in, he brushes against your g-spot that makes your legs weak. “But I know you would have enjoyed that too much”.

His movements become sharper and faster and he knows you are getting close to your edge by the way you’re clenching around him. “You take me so well, sweet girl” he praises as he leans his own head back.

“I’m so close daddy. P-please” you stutter, unable to finish your sentence.

“That’s okay. You can cum”

It’s all you need. Your climax hits you like a wall of bricks, leaving you breathless and shaking. His name leaves your lips like it’s the only thing inside your brain that makes sense. And Aaron is quick to take pride in it. His name leaving his girl’s mouth like it’s the only thing that matters and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“So tight, sweetheart” he gasps as he continues with his thrusts.

It feels like every nerve ending in your body has burst into flames. The stars in your eyes get brighter by every thrust and your whole body feels over sensitive as the man continues to chase down his own pleasure. “You feel so good, sir” you feel yourself babbling.

You can’t help but whine as he pulls out. “I want to see you” he orders and pushes you on your back. He pulls you to the edge of the bed and you go to wrap your legs around him. “Gosh you’re gorgeous” he breathes out as he sees your eyes again. He can’t help but admire every inch of you beneath him and only the thought of you gets you closer to the edge.

You love the way he leans his head back as he thrusts back into you and the sensation takes over him. You love having that power over him. You love making him feel so good. His hand goes to rub your clit as he continues with his movement already drawing you back towards your climax, once again. “You feel so good, baby. Wrapped around me like that” Aaron's voice is shaking as he’s getting closer and he’s making sure he gets you there with him. And with the way he rubs your clit and how fast his thrusts are, there’s no way you’ll last.

“Fuck, Aaron” you scream out his name as you unravel under him for the second time. The intensity of it shocks you and it leaves you completely breathless.

“So so good baby” he growls and you feel him filling you with his cum. He chews on his bottom lip as every last bit of tension leaves his body. He lets himself catch a breath or two before even thinking of moving. He looks up to the ceiling as he tries to ground himself back down from his high.

Slowly, he lowers his gaze and his heart feels like bursting out of his chest as he meets your eyes. How your lips are curved into a tired smile, how your chest heaves up and down, trying to calm your breath. It all looks so beautiful in his eyes and he can’t believe his luck.

He joins you on the bed and goes to pull you to his chest. He gently kisses your forehead as neither of you can yet find words to speak. You rest your head on his chest and just listen to his heartbeat for a moment.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” Aaron eventually breaks the silence. “Do you need something?” He pulls a blanket to cover the both of you and his arms are gently pulling you closer to him.

“I’m incredible” you breathe out. You love it when the man gets rough on you. And the aftercare with Aaron is always so sweet and caring, it makes it all ten times better. He’s gentle and he’s respectful, but you also know how to push his buttons to make him absolutely feral on you and it is beyond amazing.

“That you are, sweetheart,” he laughs. “That you are”.

Taglist: @ssahotchsbitch @mayasreadingnook @rousethemouse @averyhotchner @ssamorganhotchner @kajjaka @reidsbookmark @thenewnormalforensicator @wheelsupkels @thedancingnerdmermaid @agirlinherhead @tonystarkscumslutz @rose-garden-filled-with-thorn @haley-h0tchner ( mention or message me if you want to be added)

[tobesolonely]

apartment 41

hi y’all! this is my very VERY late submission for @meetmeinfleetwood​ ‘s “To Lovers” challenge (thank u miss sadie for even still accepting this LOL) but here is some good ol fashioned strangers to lovers with the line, “will you stay the night?” . :D enjoy everyone!

warnings: mentions of alcohol, intoxication, smut :)

word count: ~5.2k

my ko-fi! thank you :)

There were many things you loved about living on your own. You loved that your apartment was always clean. You loved that at the end of a long day, you could come back and brood in peace. You loved walking around in nothing but your underwear without the fear of anyone seeing you. You did things when you wanted, how you wanted. As a self-proclaimed introvert, there was nothing you loved more than living by yourself.

However, during slightly inconvenient moments like these, you wished you had someone else in the apartment with you.

You swore you’d been trying to get your favorite jar of pasta sauce open for at least the past ten minutes. It had been a long day at work, and at the moment all you wanted to do was heat the entire jar of sauce, boil a bunch of pasta, and call it a night. You were growing beyond frustrated–– you even contemplated just breaking the jar open. Ultimately, you decided against it lest you be met with a mouthful of glass.

Feeling defeated, you pick up your phone in frustration and hurriedly punch in your father’s number. The phone rings twice before he answers. “Hello? What’s up, hun?”

“Dad, what should I do if I can’t get this jar open? Like, it’s seriously glued shut,” you set it down on the counter probably a little too hard considering it was a glass jar. “I’m so hungry.”

“Did you try running it under hot water?”

You did.

“Hm. Try getting a good grip on it with a dish towel or something?”

Of course, you did.

“Well, I’m not driving over there just to open a jar for you,” your dad pauses. “You have neighbors, don’t you? Why don’t you knock on one of their doors?”

“Isn’t that weird?”

“No weirder than asking to borrow a cup of sugar.”

You thank your dad for the suggestion and hang up with him shortly after. He was right. You just needed someone to quickly open the jar for you and then you’d be back in your apartment, secluded from society until the next morning when you went into work. Besides, you’d been in your apartment for roughly three months now and you didn’t have a relationship with any of your neighbors. You figured now was as good a time as any to at least meet the person who lived directly across from you.

You slide on your slippers and clear the few steps it takes to reach your neighbor’s door. A faded ‘41’ was on their door, and a cheeky mat that read, ‘Did you call first?’ was at your feet.

You tried racking your brain for any memory of what your neighbor may look like, but you were drawing a blank. You were more to yourself than you initially thought you were and made a silent vow to become more social from this point on. You situate the jar of pasta sauce under your arm before placing two firm knocks against the door. Moments later, the door is flung open and you’re met with the smell of something delicious cooking, and a handsome, tall man donning a dirty apron.

“Hi, is everything alright?” he has a concerned look on his face as he looks over the top of your head and into your apartment.

“I— This is a little embarrassing,” you mumble, feeling your body grow warm. “I live by myself and I’ve been trying to get this jar of pasta sauce open for at least twenty minutes and I can’t. Do you think you can?”

His mouth slowly turns upwards into a smile before finally nodding, reaching out his hand to grab the jar of pasta sauce from you. “It’s pasta night at your place too, hmm?” His tongue is poked out of the corner of his mouth as he focuses on the task at hand.

“Yeah,” you reply. “I’m just gonna heat up the entire jar of sauce, boil some spaghetti noodles, and call it a night.”

The pop! of the jar causes you to jump slightly. “That doesn’t sound like very good pasta.”

You retrieve the pasta sauce from him, quietly thanking him. “It gets the job done.”

Your neighbor hums in agreement. “‘M sure it does. If you ever wanna taste some really good pasta though, y’know where I’ll be.”

“I do,” you nod. “Well, thank you again. I’ll let you go back to making your pasta sauce that is just way better than mine.”

He lets out a loud laugh. “I appreciate it. It wasn’t any problem at all, I’m here most evenings if you ever need help opening anything else, uh…” He trails off.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N. Beautiful name. I’m Harry, by the way.”

You look down at the dirty hallway carpet, a wide smile on your face. “Thank you, Harry. It was nice to finally meet you, by the way.”

“You too. Have a good night.”

You give him one more smile before turning on your heels and walking back inside your apartment, gently shutting the door. You quickly look out the peephole and catch him just as he’s closing his door, a dimpled-grin on his face.

It was Friday night when you finally got the chance to speak with him again. You were sitting on your kitchen stool nursing a glass of wine and waiting for your frozen pizza to heat in the oven when you heard someone coming down the hallway. As you had been doing all week since your interaction with Harry, you set your glass of wine down and shuffle over to your peephole, eyes scanning the small amount of hallway that was visible.

Harry comes into view seconds later, four overflowing bags of groceries precariously balanced along the length of his arms.

“Fuck.” You hear him mutter to himself. He attempts to reach in his pocket for his keys but once he realizes he can’t do so without setting at least one bag of groceries down, he lets out a loud huff in what you assume to be annoyance. You scuttle to your shoe rack and slip your shoes on before quickly flinging your door open.

“Hi! Need help?”

Harry jumps and you both watch as the contents of the bag he was getting ready to set down spill at his feet. “Now I do,” he’s already picking his groceries off the floor. “You scared the shit out of me. Also, were you watching me?”

Your face grows warm. “I heard someone coming down the hallway so I wanted to see who it was.”

“Oh, really?” Harry questions, pausing to look up at you. “You came out of your place so quickly, felt like I was bein’ watched or something.”

You know he’s teasing you but you can’t help but feel a little embarrassed that he caught onto what you were doing so quickly. Instead of dignifying his statement with an answer, you bend down and begin helping him pick up his spilled groceries. His hand grazes yours lightly as you both reach for a can of black beans, now slightly dented. It lingers for a moment before he retracts it to retrieve a different item. A quick, side-eyed glance reveals that his cheeks are tinged red.

“What are you making for dinner?” You ask him, standing up and dusting off the knees of your leggings.

“Uh, veggie chili. S’one of my favorites–– hey, is something burning?”

Your eyes widen and you abruptly turn away from Harry without so much as a goodbye, hurrying toward your kitchen that was starting to grow foggy from smoke produced by your oven. You were so preoccupied with helping Harry gather up his spilled groceries that you had totally forgotten you had a frozen pizza in the oven and if the smell was any indication of its current state, it was most likely inedible at this point.

Reaching for the oven mitt you kept next to the knives on the counter, you open the oven and fan the smoke out of your face, holding back a gag from the burnt smell. Your fire alarm immediately goes off once you open the oven and Harry appears a second later, a concerned look on his face. He looks around for your smoke detector and once he sees it he stands on his tiptoes to turn it off. You set your now blackened pizza on top of the oven and turn on the microwave fan. Harry’s already opening windows around your apartment, fanning the air with a throw pillow from your couch.

“Thanks,” you mumble, a wave of embarrassment washing over your body. You feared that Harry probably thought you were the most incompetent person on this planet–– first, you couldn’t get a jar open, and now here you are nearly setting your apartment on fire. “Guess I should’ve set a timer, huh?”

“Yeah, ‘spose you should’ve,” he replies. “It’s okay, though. ‘M about to get started on dinner, you can join me? If you’d like, that is. Maybe you’ll have a new recipe so you can stop eatin’ all this frozen shit.”

“Leave my frozen foods out of this,” you playfully scold him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Thank you for the invite though, that would be great, actually. I’m gonna get this cleaned up and then I’ll be right over?”

“Sounds good,” he neatly situates your pillow back on the couch. “I’ll see you in a bit, Y/N. Door will be unlocked.”

Once Harry’s gone, you move into action, quickly tossing the pizza into the trashcan before running to your bathroom. You try to remember if you brushed your teeth earlier that day but you can’t, so you brush them again just to be safe. You hastily examine yourself in the mirror before deciding you weren’t going to do anything more, not wanting to come off as trying too hard. You were almost one hundred percent certain Harry was just being neighborly–– nothing indicated that he found you attractive, so you didn’t want to make it too obvious that you found him to be the most stunning man you’ve ever seen in your life.

Locking your door, you clear the distance from your welcome mat to his in five steps flat, and take a deep breath before letting yourself in.

It didn’t take long for you to realize that Harry had more skill in the kitchen than an everyday home-chef did. He all but floated around the room, chopping with ease and finesse. The two of you had settled into a comfortable silence as he worked and you watched. Billy Joel played softly over his Bluetooth speaker, and he’d occasionally stop what he was doing to take a sip of his wine and look over his shoulder at you, almost as if he was checking if you were still there because you were being so quiet.

Your head was starting to grow fuzzy as you finished your third glass of wine that night, so you make the (responsible) decision to cut yourself off for the night. “Can I have a glass of water?”

“Course y’can,” he replies quietly, not stopping what he was doing. “Give me just a second and I’ll get ya––”

“Oh, I can get it myself. Just tell me where the cups are.”

Harry stops chopping and turns completely to face you, an amused look on his face. “You’re plastered, aren’t ya?”

“No? Why do you think that?”

Harry laughs. “You can’t hear yourself stumblin’ over your words, but I can. Jus’ stay right there and I’ll get your water. You want ice?”

“How do you know how to cook so well?”

“Culinary school,” he responds coolly. “Ice?”

You’re not sure if you are as drunk as Harry says you are, but you were currently finding the fact that Harry went to culinary school the coolest thing ever. “A chef? No way! What kind of chef?”

“I’m a Sous Chef. Gonna give ya a bit of ice.”

“I can’t believe I live across from a chef! No wonder you were giving me shit for eating canned pasta sauce,” you take the glass of water from Harry’s outstretched hand, thanking him. “Even your water tastes better than mine!”

“I think you’re just pissed, Y/N,” Harry responds, eyes crinkled from smiling. “Do y’like cooked carrots?” Your nose wrinkles in response to Harry’s question and he mutters something about how he’ll leave them out before turning back towards the stove to check on his food.

“How old are you, Harry?”

“Just turned twenty-seven. Yourself?”

“I’m twenty-four!” You exclaim, a little too excited. “Where are you from?”

He turns to look at you, eyebrow raised. “England. What gave it away?”

“Your accent.”

He hums, a small smirk on his lips. “Where are you from?”

“I’m from here. Just moved back home from my college town but didn’t wanna move back in with my parents, so here I am.”

“No roommates, you said?”

“Nope,” you pop the ‘p’, taking a big gulp of water. “You don’t either, do you? I just realized I haven’t heard or seen anyone else since I’ve been here.”

“I do not. I had a roommate when I first moved in but he ended up gettin’ engaged and moving in with his fiancée, so it’s just me for now. I think I like livin’ on my own better, though.” You watch as Harry reaches into his cabinet and retrieves two bowls and starts spooning your dinner into them. He sets the bowl in front of you and hands you a spoon, nodding at you to try it.

You bring a spoonful up to your mouth, blowing a few times before shoving it into your mouth. Your eyes widen at the amazing flavor that fills your mouth, and your eyes diverge to his. “This is incredible!”

Harry looks down at his bowl of food, a shy grin on his face. “Thanks, Y/N. Glad you like it.” He grabs his glass of wine from behind him and moves around to the other side of the island to sit next to you.

“Are you a vegetarian?” You ask, mouth full.

“Somewhat. I’m a pescatarian,” he shovels a spoonful of the chili into his mouth. “More wine?”

“I better not,” you reply, mind still fuzzy from all you’ve drunk throughout the night. “This is seriously so good, Harry. You’re cute, you can cook, you’re nice… you’re like, a triple threat!”

“Callin’ me cute?”

“C’mon, you know you are,” you answer boldly. “I’m just stating the obvious.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” he takes a sip of wine. “You’re a pretty big looker yourself.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

“You flirted with me first.”

“So what if I did?”

Harry lets out a quiet scoff, going back to eating his food. After a moment he says, “I wouldn’t mind.” You smile to yourself and continue eating, bringing the bowl up to your lips and tipping your head back so you could get every last drop of Harry’s veggie chili. He gets up to get another helping of food as you get up to place your bowl in the sink, lifting your sleeves to wash it.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says as he brushes past you, going back to where he was previously seated. “I’ll clean up later. Do y’want some dessert?”

“I think I will take some more wine,” you grab the bottle from the center of the island along with your glass, pouring a generous amount. “This is good. Nothing like the cheap bottles I get from Target.”

“I’m glad you like it. Thought I’d pull this one out tonight, always pairs well with dishes like this…” He trails off. “Anyway, yeah. Glad y’like it.”

You and Harry finish off the bottle of wine no more than thirty minutes later, having by now situated yourselves on his couch. He turned something onto the television (you think it was Iron Chef), but neither one of you were paying any attention to it. Harry was asking about what you studied in college, how you like your current career and your favorite things to do in your free time. You were asking him about England, his family back home, and why he chose to go to culinary school.

He has a way about him that captivates you— just completely pulls you in— and you never want to stop listening to him speak. Harry leans close to you when you talk, almost as if you’re telling him a secret that he doesn’t want to miss out on.

“I think ‘m jus’ as drunk as you are now,” Harry whispers, letting out an adorable giggle. “Goin’ into work tomorrow is gonna be a proper pain.”

“No one told you to try and outdrink me!” You yell, tucking your knees under your bottom. “Now we’re both drunk, what good does that do?”

“Think it’s more fun this way, don’t you?” Harry lets out a little burp, his face flushing. “Wanna help me clean the kitchen?”

“What happened to cleaning it later?” You stand up from the couch, wobbling slightly before catching your balance.

“Well, I didn’t think we’d get drunk off our arses and sit here talkin’ til one in the mornin’, did you?” He stands up as well, his hand moving to rest on the small of your back as he scooches past you.

“There’s no way it’s that late,” you retort, checking the time on your phone. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to overextend my stay. I’ll help you clean this place up and then get going.”

Harry swats a hand in front of his face, shaking his head. “Overextend your stay? Of course y’didn’t, more than happy to have you here. Do you wanna wash or dry?”

“I’ll wash since I don’t know where anything goes.” You move to the sink and roll up your sleeves, moving the small number of dishes in the sink all to one side so you can fill the other side with water. Silence falls over you again as you clean the dishes from dinner and soon enough you’re done, drying your hands on your t-shirt.

“Thank you, Y/N. We make a good team, huh? Got that done quickly, didn’t we?” He folds the dishtowel in half neatly and hangs it over the handle of his oven.

“Yeah,” you yawn, slipping on your shoes that had been discarded earlier in the night by the door. “I’ll get out your hair and let you get to bed, then. Thank you for having me over and for cooking that delicious dinner, I enjoyed it. I owe you.”

“If it’s frozen food, don’t worry about it,” he jokes, moving to open the door for you. “If you want to cook me something, though…”

“How about I take you out for dinner? I stay out of the kitchen, and you’ll get something edible and halfway decent. A win-win?”

Harry laughs. “‘M lookin’ forward to it. Goodnight, Y/N.”

“I couldn’t decide between Italian or sushi but since you’re a pescetarian, I figured sushi was our best bet.”

Harry looks away from the menu and at you, clearing his throat before speaking. “That was really thoughtful. Surprised you remembered considering how loaded you were.”

“For the last time, I was not that drunk,” you defend yourself, gently kicking his calf from underneath the table. “By the end of the night, you had way more than me!”

“Maybe so,” he replies nonchalantly, looking back at the menu. “Let’s not forget who can handle their alcohol better, though.”

You let out an indignant hmph, and get to scouring the menu yourself. You didn’t eat sushi very often so you figured you’d probably just get whatever Harry got.

“Let’s do sake bombs.”

Harry raises an eyebrow. “Sake bombs? Are you tryin’ to get me drunk again?”

“They’re fun! Just one?”

Harry shakes his head at you and grins before waving over the waitress, asking her politely for two sake bombs. She comes back a few minutes later with the alcohol and chopsticks balanced precariously on a tray, setting them in front of you and Harry respectively.

The waitress stands back and says, “Ichi… ni… san… sake bomb!” The two of you pound the table until your shot glasses fall into the cup and then you throw your heads back, chugging down the cocktail. When you finally finish chugging your drink and look back up at Harry, he’s staring at his watch as if he’s been waiting for you to finish for ages.

“Oh, you’re finally done? I was startin’ to grow old,” he teases, taking a sip of his water. “Do you know what you wanna order?”

“You’re annoying,” you reply, narrowing your eyes at him. “But I’m gonna get whatever you get.”

“Really? You don’t have any preferences?”

You shake your head. “I don’t eat sushi very often so I honestly don’t know what I should get. I’ll try anything, though.”

“You really did pick this place just for me, didn’t you?” He has a teasing tone to his voice, but his gaze has softened.

“I told you I owed you, didn’t I?”

At this, Harry just gives you a small smirk and signals the waitress over once again to order for the both of you. While you wait for your food to come, you fall into easy conversation with Harry again. It seems like you can talk about anything under the sun with him–– no topic was off-limits, and nothing was awkward. He had to have been one of the most interesting people you’ve ever met in your life. He was well-traveled, knew several languages, and loved to sing and write music in his spare time. Although you felt your own life was rather boring in comparison to his, he made you feel just as accomplished and interesting as he was.

“That was good,” he tells you after you’ve both finished eating, wiping his mouth with his napkin and slouching in his chair slightly. “Think ‘m gonna need to unbutton my pants here in a second.”

“Me too,” you answer with a laugh, making eye contact with the waitress. You mouth, ‘check, please’ and she nods, reappearing at your table with the check. As you’re digging in your purse to pull out your wallet, Harry reaches over and grabs the check before you can even look at it. He reaches in his pants pocket for his wallet and slides his card in before you’ve even looked back up.

“What are you doing?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Did you forget that I’m the one that owes you?” He shrugs.

“You can make it up to me another way. Don’t worry about it,” his voice is low and gravelly. The waitress comes back to collect the check from Harry and after he receives his receipt, he reaches into his wallet to place a cash tip for her on the table. “Ready to get home?”

Home. You know he only worded it that way because you live directly across from him, but you would like going “home home” with Harry, at least for tonight. There was no denying the sexual tension between the two of you was electric–– anyone who was paying attention to the two of you could probably sense it. You wordlessly nod and follow Harry out of the restaurant, intertwining your fingers with his when he holds his hand back for you to grab.

He stands on the curb and expertly hauls a cab, opening the door and gesturing your in ahead of him. Harry’s hand moves to rest on your leg as he makes small-talk with the taxi driver, asking him if he was having a busy night and how much longer he thought he’d be out for. Harry pays the cab fare and wishes the driver a good rest of his night before all but dragging you out of the taxi.

“What’s got you in such a rush?” You ask Harry, a teasing

“Oh? Did I misread the situation? I thought–– this is embarrassing, never mind…” his tight grip loosens on your hand but you pull him back into you, laughing at how adorable he was.

“Harry! I’m joking, I know what’s going on,” you rub your thumb across the top of his. “I was just messing with you.” You see him visibly let out a sigh of relief.

“Don’t mess with me like that, Y/N!” You’re still standing outside of your apartment complex in the dark, as close to one another as you can be without completely melting into each other. He releases his hand from your tight grip and places it gently on your face instead. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”

“Please,” you reply breathlessly, standing on your toes. Harry cranes his neck to meet your lips and presses them to yours softly, pulling back only when the both of you are near gasping for air.

“Was that nice?” He asks, thumb caressing your face. Your noses are pressed together and you just nod, still too breathless to speak. “Maybe we can take this inside, then?”

Once inside Harry’s apartment, he nearly rips off the new shirt you bought specifically for your date with him, discarding it by his door.

“Careful with that,” you mutter, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I just got that today. Tag is still onnit.”

You feel Harry laugh into the side of your neck, walking your backward towards his couch. “I’ll cover the cost if it’s ruined then, how’s tha’?”

Harry sucks harshly on your neck, causing you to let out a low moan. “I guess that’s fine.”

“That’s fine?” Harry mocks you, guiding you onto the coach. You hum in agreement as you sink further down into the couch, letting out a sigh of bliss as he peppered kisses along your breast.

Your movements are needy— desperate. Neither one of you were trying to hide how badly you wanted to fuck the other. Harry smashing his lips onto yours once more, his breath warm and tongue salty from all the sushi he had earlier consumed. He attempts to pull his own shirt from his body while not breaking the kiss, and you let out a satisfied hum when he succeeds. Now you’re both shirtless and the only thing stopping you from fucking each other proper is being still fully clothed on your bottom halves.

“Can we get these off?” You ask, tugging at your own bottoms. Harry helps you pull down your tight jeans, struggling slightly to get them off your sweaty legs. Once your jeans are off your underwear follows immediately after, carelessly strewn around the room like the rest of your clothing.

“Y/N…” Harry hungrily takes the sight of your body in, eyes darkening with lust. “You might be the death of me, did ya know that?”

“I do now.”

He sucks on his index and middle fingers and lowers them down to your core, slipping them inside you with ease. You hadn’t realized how wet you were until Harry was knuckles deep, curling his fingers tantalizingly slow inside of you. “Do ya?”

You bite down hard on your lip, nodding at Harry’s rhetorical question. “Obviously.”

He flips the two of you over, so that you’re now straddling him and he’s laying below you. “Take what you want, then–– oh wait, condom?” You nod and move as Harry digs around in his pants, pulling out his wallet.

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those guys that keeps a condom in their wallet.”

He rips it open with his teeth in one swift motion and unbuckles his pants, giving himself a couple of quick strokes before sliding it on. “What if I am? Was quick and effective, wasn’t it?” He rests his hands on your hips and pulls you back on top of him, connecting his lips with yours again. “Now you can take what you want.”

Your hands move up to grip Harry’s shoulders as you slowly sink onto him, wincing at the stretch and burn an unfamiliar partner sometimes brings. You make eye contact with Harry as you take a moment to adjust to his size, noting how his grip on your hips gets even tighter.

“S’big,” you mutter, rolling your hips slightly. Below you, Harry squeezes his eyes shut. “So big.”

“Tell me how badly you want it.”

“You already know. Don’t feel like being teased.”

Harry juts his hips up to meet you slamming down onto him, groaning out loudly from the pleasure the added motion brings. At one point he situates himself so he’s sitting straight up, using his left hand as a support for him to rest back on while his right hand is tweaking at your nipples. He’s letting out a slew of curse words, letting you know it felt just as good for him as it did for you.

“Ridin’ m’cock so good,” he says under his breath, bringing the hand that was playing with your nipples to rest in between your legs. Whenever you slam back onto him you feel him not only deep in the pit of your stomach but also on your clit, bringing you maximum pleasure. “Don’t be so quiet, let me know when ‘m makin’ you feel good, love.”

“I’m already close,” you admit, feeling a bit embarrassed at how it took Harry doing next to nothing to work an orgasm out of you. Well, not literally–– but it felt like it. “Feel s’good inside me, you’re so big.”

Harry lets out a low moan from your words, throwing his head back in pleasure. It hits the arm of his couch with a quiet thump but his pace doesn’t falter in the slightest. “You’re gonna make me cum if ya keep strokin’ my ego like that.”

“You asked for it,” you reply, changing your move from riding to grinding as you were starting to grow fatigued. “I’m close.” You remove your hands from his shoulders and let them roam the expanse of your body, wanting nothing more than to receive maximum pleasure.

“Can feel ya squeezin’ ‘round me,” Harry says, taking his lip in between his teeth. “Know you’re about to come, pet.”

"Harry..." you warn, your movements growing more desperate and sloppy. You weren't normally a selfish lover but your head was so clouded from pleasure, all you could think about at the moment was your release. Harry leans his head back on the couch again and now uses his two free hands to bring you to orgasm–– one is rubbing circles on your clit and the other one is gripping at your breasts as you use your last bit of strength to swivel your hips on him.

You're coming undone not ten seconds later, loudly moaning out the man's name who laid under you. You don't slow your movements, knowing he was right behind you.

"Y/N, fuck, 'm gonna come-" he lets out a low, guttural moan, coming immediately after announcing it.

The sounds of you trying to steady your breathing are the only sounds that fills the room as you both come down from your respective highs. Harry runs his hands along your bare body, eyes hooded from the orgasm that just wracked his body. As you’re beginning to uncurl yourself from Harry, he grabs your hand, pulling you back down.

“Will you stay the night?”

You didn’t know what sleeping with Harry meant for your relationship going forward, but you were glad you knocked on Apartment 41. 

[contemplativepancakes]

Geralt is possibly the least interesting vampire in the world. Jaskier is strangely okay with that. 4k, G. read on AO3 here!

for @theamazingbard (:

Geralt holds up two ties in front of the mirror, comparing the fabrics against his suit. By now, he’s used to the headless suit that reflects back at him in the mirror. Geralt’s never been one to overly question things, so he couldn’t tell you why vampires don’t show up in mirrors, but really, that’s fine. A relief, even.

He’s not sure he wants to know what he looks like. He knew once, before he was turned. He wasn’t exactly a looker then, and he highly doubts he is now.

Geralt chooses the black tie with the tiny dots instead of the black tie with the stripes, and clips it on to his suit. What? He can’t be expected to tie a tie every single day. He smooths it down over his chest. Satisfied, he sits down on the bed to tie his dress shoes. Reliable double knots.

He walks down the hall to crouch in front of the refrigerator, pulling out one of the bags of blood he keeps there. He pauses to look at the label. It’s his favorite, AB. He tucks it into his lunchbox, then pauses to rip one open and dump it into his travel mug. He pours some protein powder in it to make the blood coagulate. He can definitely see the appeal of this boba tea the humans have been drinking recently.

As he heads out the door, he darkens a little as he looks at his neighbors’ decorations. He hates Halloween. A time for people to get everything wrong about monsters. They live with them, the least they could do is be a little considerate and do their research.

No, they can’t repel Geralt with garlic. He scowls at the thought.

Geralt’s distracted from his thoughts as a young man runs by him out of seemingly nowhere and falls on the sidewalk just in front of him, his knee splitting open.

Geralt rubs a hand on his neck as the man looks up at him beseechingly.

“Uh. Do you need any help?”

“My, you’re ever so kind,” the man says, extending a hand that Geralt uses to pull him to his feet.

“Probably want to get that cleaned off,” Geralt says. “Make sure it doesn’t get infected.”

“Oh, dear! You’re right. Would it be possible for me to use your sink?” he asks, batting his eyelashes.

Geralt squints. “I...guess?”

“Oh, thank you!”

Geralt unlocks his door and leads the man into his bathroom, graciously pretending not to notice the man looking around the apartment in wide eyed fascination. He must not know that Geralt is a vampire, then, or he wouldn’t be so quick to ask Geralt for help. People around here avoid Geralt for the most part.

“I’m Jaskier,” the man says, as he bends his leg so his knee is right under the faucet. Geralt politely looks away when he notices how the motion makes the material of his pants stretch right across the seat of his ass.

“Geralt,” he replies, watching Jaskier closely for a reaction.

There’s none, so Geralt kneels down and looks under the sink for his hydrogen peroxide. When he finds it, he hands it to Jaskier wordlessly.

Jaskier flashes him a winning smile. “I guess it was my lucky day to run into you, hmm?”

Geralt doesn’t think anyone has ever said that about him before. “Anyone would do what they could to help you avoid infection,” he says dutifully.

Jaskier deflates a bit. “Well, there must be some way I can repay you. How about coffee?”

“Oh. I don’t really...drink coffee.” Geralt waits for Jaskier to get it. It’s not like monsters like him are uncommon, per se.

“How about dinner, then? A steakhouse.”

“Sure,” Geralt says, surprising himself. He blinks. His brothers are always telling him he needs to make more friends. And a steak does sound particularly good. He rarely lets himself indulge in things like that.

Jaskier brightens. “Hey, would you mind putting a band aid on this for me? I can never get it to stay.”

“I’m not sure that applying band aids is exactly rocket science,” Geralt says, but he does it anyway, his nose twitching at the scent of the fresh blood.

Geralt is centuries old, though, so it’s not like a little blood is the end of the world. Maybe when he was a fledgling, but those days are long past him.

He gives Jaskier’s knee a tiny pat. “Looks like those pants are done in for,” he says inanely.

Jaskier shrugs. “A worthy sacrifice.”

Geralt doesn’t respond to that, and Jaskier lets the silence linger. Geralt clears his throat. “I’m going to be late for work.”

Before he leaves, Jaskier insists Geralt give him his number so that he can arrange their dinner. “I’m very much looking forward to it,” Jaskier says with a grin.

Geralt gives him a hesitant smile, looking at the clock. He really does need to get a move on.

Jaskier seems to get the hint and lets Geralt usher him out the door.

In the end, Geralt’s not late, but he is grumpy that he only arrived five minutes early instead of his customary fifteen. It throws his entire day off, and the numbers seem to swim before him on his computer screen like never before.

Geralt scowls. He should have picked the tie with the stripes.

-

Jaskier contains his pout as he walks along the sidewalk, away from Geralt’s house. He practically offered himself up on a platter to be ravished, and Geralt was completely unaffected. There was blood right in front of his nose!

Jaskier doubts his information for a second, but Priscilla was the one who told him in hushed whispers that the word was that Geralt was a vampire. If Valdo had been the one to tell him, then he would have had a few more qualms, but Priscilla wouldn’t lie to him like that.

She knows how the idea of being partners with a monster makes him feel hot under the collar.

Jaskier resolves to be better. If a cut knee wasn’t enough, he’ll just have to step up his game for this dinner. And surely, if Geralt didn’t want to be seduced, he would have sent Jaskier on his merry way after bandaging his knee instead of bandaging it for him, for gods’ sake.

Maybe Geralt wants to be the one being chased after for once. Well, Jaskier is happy to oblige.

-

When Geralt gets home from work, there’s a text waiting for him. How about Friday night for our little get together?

It’s not like Geralt ever has any plans that might get in the way besides his weekly meeting, so it’s not like he has to check his calendar before he replies. Sure.

Great! I’ll pick you up at 8! :D

Geralt frowns. This doesn’t seem right. He hasn’t made a new friend in possibly fifty years, and now one literally falls into his path?

He hums to himself as he does his nightly routine, pushing on the gum above each fang to make it pop out so he can properly brush it. Cleanliness is next to godliness, and all that. Actual dentists that weren’t just going to try to pull out his teeth have only been around for less than the majority of his life, so it’s habit to take good care of them.

Geralt strips off his clothes until he’s left in just his t-shirt and boxers and climbs into bed. No, he doesn’t have a coffin or hang upside down like some sort of bat. Geralt’s not sure where all that nonsense got its roots in the first place.

There’s so many things that humans seem to have no qualms believing about monsters, though, and Geralt frowns as he punches his pillow into a better shape. He’s almost 250. His lumbar health is no joke.

-

His anxiety bleeds into his work, making Excel blink more error messages back at him than he’s ever seen before. Geralt’s boss pulls him aside to ask if he’s okay. Geralt sulks.

He is the consummate professional, and he’s not going to let this dinner get the better of him. Geralt contends anyone would be nervous if they hadn’t made a new friend in decades, too.

Now, he stands in front of his closet. He’s certainly not going to wear a suit, but he rarely wears anything else. It’s not like he goes much of any place besides work and his weekly meetings. Geralt sighs as he pulls a pair of jeans out of his wardrobe.

They’re a lot tighter than he remembers, but this is all he has, so it’ll have to do. He finds a long sleeved shirt that is luckily on the baggier side. He hopes that will make up for his too-close fitting jeans.

Geralt brushes his hair, but he can’t see it in the mirror, so there’s no point in doing anything else with it. He’s more likely to make himself look ridiculous than presentable with whatever he might attempt.

Geralt plants himself on the couch, reaching for his book to read until the clock rolls around to the time Jaskier promised to pick him up. His fingers play with the corners of the pages, bending them in a way that he’s sure would make a librarian displeased.

Geralt huffs when he realizes he’s not going to get any reading done and sets the book down on his side table. He takes a deep breath through his nose. He is ancient; he shouldn’t be getting social anxiety right now.

His phone pings with a text. Outside!

Geralt looks out the window, and indeed, there’s a car there. It’s a lime green slug bug, with rust eating its way up from the undercarriage. Geralt pinches the bridge of his nose. That looks like Jaskier’s car, all right.

-

Jaskier tries not to drool as Geralt walks down his steps. He’s wearing pants that are skin tight, which should frankly be illegal, and his shirt hangs off of him so that it shows his collar bones. Jaskier thought that vampires should be the ones who wanted to bite, but he would really love to get his mouth on one of those.

Geralt gets into the passenger seat with a half smile playing around his lips. “Like my ride?” Jaskier asks.

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

Jaskier claps his hand to his heart in mock offense. “I’m wounded.”

Geralt hums, shifting in his seat as he fastens his seatbelt. Jaskier drums his fingers on the steering wheel, flexing his right arm to draw attention to the bandage he has there. He went and donated blood this afternoon, and if Geralt doesn’t get his hint this time, he is going to pound his head against the nearest wall.

-

Geralt shifts his head to look out the window as Jaskier keeps his arms on shameless display. He knows times have changed, but it’s also always a little dizzying to see so much of everyone’s skin on display all the time, their pulse thrumming invitingly underneath it.

Geralt shakes his head to clear it of its reverie as Jaskier pulls his car into drive. It gives a concerning lurch. Before Geralt can open his mouth to comment, Jaskier is holding up a hand. “I can assure you, we are perfectly safe.”

“Hmm.”

“Hey!” Jaskier protests. “It is. I take care of it.”

“All I said was hmm,” Geralt says with a tiny grin. “That’s why it has so much rust, right?”

Jaskier sighs. “I was going to get around to repaint it, and then I just...other things came up.”

Geralt makes a face at him, laughing at Jaskier’s increased defenses. Some of his anxiety fades away as he realizes this isn’t so bad, after all. Maybe Jaskier needs a new friend just as badly as him.

When they arrive at the restaurant, Jaskier pulls Geralt’s chair out for him. Geralt gives him a polite nod. He can’t say he has a firm grasp on all the recent customs. Lambert’s always telling him he’s stuck in the past.

Geralt crosses his fingers and rests his chin on his hands as he watches Jaskier eat his salad, taking endearingly large bites. Jaskier hasn’t even mentioned anything about vampires yet. Geralt is starting to feel a tiny bit guilty. Would he still want to spend all this time with him if he knew Geralt wasn’t human?

As he’s thinking that, Jaskier takes a big gulp of his water and starts to sputter. Geralt’s across the table in an instant, his hand around Jaskier’s bicep and another hand on his back. “Are you okay?” Geralt murmurs, tense and ready to help if the need arises.

Jaskier coughs and waves him off. “Just went down the wrong pipe.”

Geralt relaxes a bit, but as his hand lingers on Jaskier’s arm, he can’t help but feel how warm it is, such a contrast to his own constantly cool skin. When Jaskier turns his face to look up at him, Geralt quickly drops his arm and beats a hasty retreat back to his seat.

He could swear Jaskier looks disappointed. He must be delusional.

When the main course comes, Geralt cuts neatly into his pink steak, mouth watering as the juices come leaking out of it. He sucks the tip of his finger into his mouth, eyes fluttering shut at the salty taste of it.

He makes himself cut the steak into tiny pieces. He’ll have to tell Jaskier he’s a vampire eventually; he might as well make sure he doesn’t think he’s a barbaric onel. Geralt tries his best to keep his eyes on Jaskier’s face instead of his arms. He can’t help but notice that he has some very nice veins. They’re a striking blue, and a perfect compliment to his eyes.

Geralt bites his lip, flinching when one of his fangs pops out on its own, pressing into his lip.

“One of my uncles is a werewolf,” Jaskier says, apropos of nothing, looking at Geralt meaningfully.

A trickle of sweat runs down Geralt’s back. Does Jaskier think he’s a werewolf? Werewolves are generally regarded better than vampires; at least they’re only monsters one night a month.

“Hmm,” Geralt says, not hearing the rest of Jaskier’s sentence.

Jaskier laughs at his own joke, and Geralt blinks rapidly until he can focus again on what Jaskier’s saying.

When the waiter comes with the check, Jaskier insists on paying for it. Is this what friendship has evolved to since Geralt last had one? He doesn’t know enough about it to argue with Jaskier, so he lets him do what he wants.

-

Outside of Geralt’s house, Jaskier puts a hand on the console between them, making eye contact with Geralt before dropping his gaze down to his lips. Geralt gives him a gentle smile, his eyes crinkling. His white hair looks ethereal in the moonlight, and Jaskier is only a little infatuated.

Geralt’s exterior is stony, but he also had no problems giving Jaskier all sorts of secret smiles throughout the night. Jaskier’s not sure he’s met a better listener than Geralt, and he tends to drone on and on, so that’s somewhat important to him.

Jaskier closes his eyes and starts to lean in when Geralt opens the car door. Jaskier opens his eyes.

“I had a great time, thank you,” Geralt says, one hand on the top of the car.

Jaskier bites his lip, stopping himself from saying what he wants. “Me, too. Let’s do it again some time?”

Geralt nods eagerly, and Jaskier watches him walk away, his gaze fixed on Geralt’s devastating pants and not at all on the way his ass looks in them.

Jaskier rests his head on the steering wheel in despair. He doesn’t know how to be any more heavy handed than this. He went and donated blood! And Geralt let him pay for their meal! He’s not sure how he can get across the point any better that he’s a talking blood bag, and he’s open for business.

Jaskier heaves a gigantic sigh and resolves to go home and plot his next move.

Maybe Geralt’s just shy.

Well. Jaskier can work with that

-

Geralt’s weekend passes in its normal fashion. He goes for a run, drinks some blood out of his supply in the fridge, then crashes on the couch for a whole day while he thinks of anything other than work. Sometimes Eskel lets himself in using his key, but he doesn’t that weekend, and Geralt crosses his arms over his chest as he tortures himself thinking of what Eskel might be doing.

Eskel’s never had problems making friends, unlike Geralt, so he’s sure he’s out having a good time with them.

Geralt used to be good at making friends, gods damn it, before all of them died of old age and he just didn’t see the point anymore. He’s come to suppose that there’s not all that much of a point in immortality if all he does is work, though.

The weekend’s over just as quickly as it began, and on Monday night, he can’t help the smile that creeps across his face when Jaskier texts him about some inane thing he noticed. Was he thinking of Geralt? That’s...nice.

Cautiously, Geralt lets himself hope that something is going to come out of this.

But first, he needs to tell Jaskier he’s a vampire. He wouldn’t be the first person to run away screaming, even though they are much more accepted now than they used to be.

Geralt shudders as he thinks of the industrial revolution. No regard for any monsters then. Humans invent light bulbs, and all of a sudden they think they’re too good for a healthy dash of respect.

Geralt looks back down at his phone, at a music video Jaskier sent him of someone playing a singing saw.

He lets himself focus on that a while.

-

Wednesday creeps around, and with it, Geralt’s weekly meeting.

He takes his spot in his customary chair, and looks around for Lambert, ignoring the look Eskel is trying to burn through the side of his face with.

“Why do I have to be here, again?” Geralt asks, when he gives up on Lambert to come save him.

Eskel rolls his eyes. It’s an argument they’ve had more than once. “If you won’t become a sponsor, you have to at least show them that things get better.”

Geralt huffs a breath out through his nose as he watches the regulars file in. There’s one new person, and Geralt eyes her curiously. She looks a little terrified, and Geralt softens in sympathy.

The meeting starts, and they go around in the circle, the seat beside Geralt still empty in Lambert’s tardiness.

“Hi, I’m Geralt, and I’m a blood addict,” he drones when it’s his turn.

When they’ve moved on to their personal struggles for the week, Lambert finally appears, dropping into his chair.

He elbows Geralt, seemingly unaware of everyone staring at them.

“Hey, what’s got you in such a good mood?”

Geralt firmly fixes a scowl in place and ignores him. He’s not sure why he even wanted Lambert to show up in the first place.

Geralt leans back in his chair, crossing his arms as he listens to everyone else, Eskel being disgustingly reassuring to them all, as per usual. Geralt stamps the jealousy down. It’s not Eskel’s fault he’s so good with people.

The meeting drags by, and when it’s finally over, Lambert doesn’t let Geralt just sneak away. He digs his elbow into his side again, holding Geralt by the shoulder. “You didn’t answer me earlier. What’s got you in such a good mood?”

“I’m not,” Geralt says.

Lambert hums. “You don’t have your usual storm cloud above your head, so I’m going to count it.”

Geralt scowls at him and looks at Eskel for back up, but Eskel just raises his eyebrows at him.

“I hate you both,” Geralt grumbles.

“You love us,” Lambert says.

“Fine. I made a new friend,” he grates out.

Lambert and Eskel exchange an insufferable look.

“What?” Geralt demands.

“You, make a friend? Well, we’re just going to have to hear all about this to believe it.”

Geralt huffs, but he tells them about Jaskier.

“He took you to dinner? And paid? And you think he wants to be just friends?” Lambert asks.

Geralt flaps his hands around and hisses, “Look, I’ve barely been anywhere that isn’t here or work in the last three decades, how am I supposed to keep up with all this human nonsense? And besides, I haven’t even told him I’m a vampire yet. I’ll be lucky if he even wants to be my friend after that.”

Eskel bites his lip. “You know that’s a turn on for some humans, right?”

“What?”

“And you said he scraped his knee the first time he saw you? Geralt, I think he already knows, and he’s just trying to get in your pants.”

Geralt deflates. That makes a twisted sort of sense. “Oh.”

Lambert punches him in the arm. “Hey, lighten up. If anyone can charm him with their stunning personality, it’s you.”

“Fuck off.”

-

It’s difficult to fall asleep that night.

-

A week goes by without him answering any of Jaskier’s texts. He still painstakingly reads and savors each one, but he can’t bring himself to reply. If he was looking for some sort of...fling, he would have gone on one of those apps Eskel keeps telling him about.

As pathetic as it sounds, he could really use a friend. And if sex came later, well, Geralt wouldn’t complain, but he just desperately needs someone who’s going to stick around. He needs someone just for himself, someone outside of Lambert and Eskel who isn’t going to tease him about every little thing.

Geralt sighs. This was at least good practice. Maybe he can try again with someone else.

His heart sinks at the thought. He doesn’t really want someone else. Jaskier wormed his way into his chest in just a week, and Geralt knows he could yank him out with only a little pain if he tried, he doesn’t want to.

Geralt wants to have something nice, for once.

-

Jaskier bites his lip as he peers out the car window at Geralt’s house. He’s half scared there’s not going to be an answer when he knocks, and he doesn’t know what he’ll do then. He thought their date went swimmingly, so he’s not sure why Geralt suddenly stopped answering him unless something happened.

Jaskier has a vision of getting into the house only to find Geralt on the floor, the only way to revive him being letting Geralt drink straight from his neck, obviously leading to Geralt ravishing him against the nearest wall.

Jaskier shakes himself like a dog. Geralt’s given him no interest in anything like that at all. Maybe he needs to lower his expectations. The dude seems lonely, anyway, so maybe he just wants someone to talk to that’s not one of his coworkers.

Geralt told him he’s an actuary, and from the questions he asked of Geralt and Geralt didn’t answer, he’s not convinced that Geralt talks to his coworkers at all.

Jaskier blows out a puff of breath as he unbuckles his seatbelt and opens the door. He’s not sure what he hopes is going to happen when he opens the door.

He walks up the door and knocks.

He waits an agonizing moment before the door swings open, revealing Geralt. He looks even paler than Jaskier remembered him, wearing a pair of sweatpants with a hole in the crotch that he can see Geralt’s plaid boxers through and a t-shirt with a collar that’s outrageously stretched. Jaskier swallows hard.

“Have you considered not oiling the hinges? I think it would do you a world of good to develop a creaky door aesthetic.”

Geralt’s forehead wrinkles adorably. “What?”

“Just, you know. Being a vampire and all.”

Geralt slumps against the door frame. “How long have you known?”

Now it’s Jaskier’s turn to be confused. “Known what?”

“That I’m a vampire!”

“Oh.” Jaskier pauses. “I didn’t think it was a secret.”

Geralt’s hand pauses in its path of trailing the wood grain of the door. “Do you have a...kink?” he spits.

Jaskier raises his hands. “Well, I wouldn’t say that.”

Geralt fixes him with an unconvinced look.

“Look, that might have been part of the initial intrigue, but—”

Geralt raises his eyebrows expectantly.

“But, you’re really fucking hot and also possibly the most boring person I know, but...I’m into it. You know all these weird facts and—gods know I could use a little stability in my life.”

Geralt gives him a bashful smile, and Jaskier wonders if anyone has said anything nice to him at some point this century. “Yeah?”

Jaskier leans across the threshold and cups Geralt’s face with his hands, their mouths a breath apart. “Yeah.”