#(my tags are where i tell all my best and worst jokes)

[crabsnpersimmons]

a little wip for a little thing i'm working on!

[gnocchibabie]

Desire and Blood (Chapter 2)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen/Strong OC (Jaenara Velaryon)

Tags: AU - canon divergence, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, Targcest (uncle/niece)

Wordcount: 5.2k

Summary:

Against all odds, the love between childhood friends prevails and the Dance of Dragons is avoided.

However, peace comes at a cost. With the unexpected proposal of marriage between Alicent Hightower's son and Rhaenyra Targaryen's only daughter, can love truly blossom between sworn enemies? Or will Jaenara Velaryon be reduced to a mere pawn?

Love may yet arise where enmity once thrived, but Aemond's relentless pursuit of power threatens to shatter everything they hold dear, including each other.

Notes: Part one is linked here!

If you are liking this series, please consider showing some love on my AO3 posting of this fic :) thank you x

The doors to the council room chamber finally shut, leaving only Alicent and her two sons by themselves. A tense air looms overhead, and Aemond Targaryen sits stiff in his chair, considering all that has just happened. 

I am to marry Jaenara Velaryon.

A funny feeling settled at the bottom of Aemond’s heart. Truth be told, marrying his niece was far from the worst possible marriage partner he could imagine. Aemond would never speak it aloud, but he had always found Jaenara strikingly beautiful. While she did not bear the signature Targaryen white hair, she shared their bewitching lavender eyes. Hers had always been an interesting shade, he had thought. And Jaenara had a remarkably Valyrian face. Many people amongst the court — even his mother Alicent — had stated that Jaenara was a spitting image of Rhaenyra in her younger years.

Aemond also admired his niece’s curious personality, which was an understatement. One second, she could be as cold as the winters of the north. A moment later, she would exhibit a kindness and warmth only read about in stories. She was a welcome challenge, Aemond thought. 

Jaenara, he remembered, is also a skilled dragonrider. She had a strong bond with her dragon, and had quickly honed many skills and tactics that many within their family — including her brothers, had struggled with. 

Perhaps there was more to admire about this match than he initially believed. 

Aemond finally raises his gaze to his mother and brother.

“I never thought you’d be one to play matchmaker, mother.” Aemond tells his mother, the slightest hint of amusement in his tone. Amusement to mask his uncertainty. Alicent looks at him incredulously, wondering how her son could joke amidst such circumstances. 

“Oh you didn’t know?” Aegon scoffs, “Mother has already done this before. Can’t you see how happy Helaena and I are together? Surely you and your beloved bastard will also be a sight to behold.” 

Aemond opens his mouth to retort his brother's jabs but his mother beats him to it.

“Enough!” Alicent slams an open palm onto the table. Aegon scoffs once more and rolls his eyes. Their mother’s eyes hold sorrow. Guilt. She has nothing to say in rebuttal. What could be said in face of the cold truth?

Aemond is about to leave when his mother finally speaks: “You will speak to Jaenara with more respect from now on if you are expected to sit at her mother’s council…” she trails off, as if unsure of her own words.

“I seem to remember you spoke of her the same way not too long ago - what was it you called her? Plain-featured?,” Aegon says, “Though your criticism of Rhaenyra and her litter of bastards has lessened over these last few months. Has the Queen snuffed out your senses too?” 

“Aegon,” Alicent’s voice is heavy, “Aemond. Rhaenyra only has everyone’s best interest in mind. She is following her father’s dying wishes - your father’s dying wish. We were both with him in his last moments…” The woman before them clad in green closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. 

“I know what has happened in the past. But this is our opportunity to put it at rest…”

Put it at rest? Aemond feels disgust at his mother’s sympathies. They took my eye. They made my childhood the nightmare it was. They chipped away at me bit by bit.  

“You say this about the same people who robbed me of an eye, mother,” Aemond responds coolly, “The same people who faced no consequences for this. I have seen how this has tormented you, even years later. As you have with me.”

The prince can see the conflict that bubbles below his mother’s surface. Alicent turns to her son and does something unexpected. She takes her hand in his. 

Aemond’s eye softens for the smallest moment.

“My son. There is no mending what has been left in the past. But there is still time to mend the future. I only wish to see you happy.”

He shakes out of his mother’s grasp. “She will do no such thing.”

Aemond stands and makes a brisk exit for the door. Leaving his mother and brother behind, and himself to his thoughts.

Someone will pay the price. And I will make him pay for it in blood.

The prince does not find sleep so easily that night. He challenges himself to imagine the look that would grace his niece’s face when her mother would have to break the news of their arrangement to her. He wondered if her lavender eyes would narrow in disgust, her lip curling in a snarl, anger palpable. Or perhaps she had looked to her mother with quiet surrender, making no reaction and solemnly accepting his hand. He decided she had done the former. Jaenara had always been a rather animated young woman - and that was putting it lightly. Even in their youth she had been this way.

In the quiet of his chambers, Aemond finds his mind enraptured by the princess. 

He is reminded of a time she had scolded him when she was a girl no older than six, and himself only seven, for pushing her twin to the ground and giving him a scraped elbow. The only person who managed to stop her tirade had been Rhaenyra. Aemond recalls the young mother scooping her twins into her arms, one flailing around still shouting at him whilst the other had tears streaming down his face. The prince smiles almost fondly from the memory, surprising himself.

The next memory that came to him happened a few years later. Aemond had more often found himself at the center of ridicule, frequently dealt by Jace and Luke. Oftentimes by Aegon too, though he chose to ignore that detail. The young prince had always felt distant to the rest of his family, as though he were different - lesser than the rest of them. And how could he not, as a dragon-less Targaryen. He was a dragon without wings. And his nephews had made sure he was aware of this. Aemond recalled how his blood boiled at the thought that bastards such as his nephews - such as Jaenara - had dragons. And yet, he did not. Was there something wrong with him? Had there been a reason his egg had not hatched alongside him in his cradle? Was he unworthy?

The taunting had reached a new level when Jaenara’s brothers had gifted Aemond a pig. Something he was much more worthy of rather than a dragon - they had said. He remembers when his nephews had revealed the creature to him in the training yard. Even Aegon laughed at him, so loudly it had caught the attention of Jaenara, who had been on the far end of the square speaking with Helaena. Aemond remembered how her gaze had turned to him - how he waited for her to join in on the teasing and laughing. 

No such thing happened.

Jaenara bounded over to the group of boys, a quiet storm forming behind her lavender eyes. Helaena had opted to hang back from the debacle, watching the impending uproar with rapt attention. 

“Think that’s funny, do you?” Jaenara had asked aloud when she finally reached their group. 

Silence. 

Jaenara continued, “I seem to remember that you yourself Jacaerys - you have made very little progress in even mounting Vermax.” The young boy averted his attention to the ground, suddenly very interested in a mound of dirt near his feet. The reprimanding had not stopped there.

“And you-” She turned to Lucerys, “You on the other hand may be able to mount your dragon, though you find yourself on the ground within seconds.” She looks between her brothers, and then to Aemond. Each holds their gaze with the other for a few moments.

“Neither of you have any room to be acting as though you are real dragon riders yourselves.” She seems to have finished, turning on her heels and running back to Helaena.

“AND TAKE THAT PIG BACK!” She yells over her shoulder. Aemond watched as his sister and niece strode away, arm in arm. He returns his attention to Jace and Luke, whose faces are the same shade as their house colors. Aegon’s laughter fills the yard again.

This incident had shown Aemond a different side of his niece. For an instant, he was filled with an immense regret for all the times he had ever been cold to her. The times he had called her a bastard. The times he had joined in on Aegon’s belittling of her and her family. She had taken all of that - for years on end - and still defended him. He couldn’t really understand why.

He can do little to prevent his least favorite memory from entering his mind. Aemond takes in a breath and closes his eyes. He remembers the night at Driftmark. The night he had claimed Vhagar. The night he lost his eye. 

That time had been different. Jaenara had not been present when the fighting had broken out - not until Rhaena had frantically found her and told her of what was transpiring, unsure of what to do herself. When his niece entered the room, Aemond had been on top of her brother. The sight had sent the young girl into a frenzy and, without fully understanding the context of the situation, she had flung herself onto Aemond and wrenched the boy off of Lucerys. 

“Get off of him!” She had screeched. With her arm wrapped around Aemond’s neck, Jaenara threw herself back and they soon found themselves on the cold floor. “What do you think you-” Her question remained unanswered at this moment - this singular distraction turning Aemond’s attention towards his niece. He remembered the bewildered look on her face, her black hair coming loose from her braid. Her white night dress and the light purple robe that clung to her. A bead of blood on her bottom lip. She had always had a bad habit of biting it, Aemond had noticed. Hard enough to draw blood. The blood began to trickle down her chin.

It was the last thing his good eye had ever seen before Luke split open Aemond’s face, from his cheek to his forehead. His own blood splattered onto Jaenara’s powder white gown, staining the cloth forever.

Darkness. A scream.

Aemond sat up in bed, blinking away the rest of the memory. He opened and closed a fist. Yes, he was sure of her response now. Jaenara was not happy about the prospect of this union, and had surely let her mother - and the entirety of Dragonstone - know this. Where she lacked Velaryon parentage, Jaenara’s Targaryen fierceness made up for this tenfold. 

She will meet her match.

Aemond would swallow his pride - swallow his grudges against his niece, and become her husband. Though, he decided, she should not expect much from him. He held no love in his heart for her. Surely no romantic love. He would use her as he needed, to obtain what he wanted - power. That, and retribution for the slight that his family had suffered in having Rhaenyra as their Queen. Though some of the weaker members of his family would not see it his way.

He circles back to the dark thoughts that had crossed his mind earlier. He would be doing his soon-to-be wife a favor in getting rid of her twin. She would be made heir to the Seven Kingdoms. It was probably the closest act akin to love Aemond would find himself capable of accomplishing during their relationship. And he would help her to rule. He was nothing if not helpful.

He could make it look like an accident. He had previously considered poisoning Jacaerys. Aemond would not act until a comfortable time into his marriage, so as not to raise suspicion. Though he decided, suspicion would be raised regardless if the heir were to suddenly drop dead in the middle of dinner. He hardly thought that hands clenched around the throat, skin purple, and eyes bulging out of his head would seem inconspicuous.

Poison was out of the question.

Aemond Targaryen feels a sudden sense of dread in plotting his own nephew’s demise. The dread only grows when he truly pictures carrying the act out himself. If he were ever to be discovered, The Realm would christen him with the title of Kinslayer. 

To be a Kinslayer is to be despised by The Gods. To be damned to the Seven Hells. 

Aemond is unsure if he harbors enough hatred in him to carry out the act, though he certainly is no stranger to being on the receiving end of such hatred. 

He considers if he possesses enough complacency to suffer the consequences, should they be dealt. He wonders if his heart is as hard as everyone else believes it to be.

And yet…

Unable to find sleep, Aemond climbs out of bed once more. He dresses and finishes the outfit off with his long black cloak, throwing the hood over his head. 

The One Eyed Prince slips out of the Red Keep and ventures into the Streets of Silk, hoping to find some semblance of comfort. 

— — —

Candlelight illuminates the face of the young princess as her eyes scan the pages of a rather large, rather dusty book. In the days before their inevitable departure, Dragonstone had become a whirlwind of busy servants and flustered royals. All of Jaenara’s possessions had been packed away and taken to King’s Landing ahead of time with the family’s servants, save for the text seated in her lap. In such a tumultuous time, the young woman found solace in its pages. 

Jaenara had read the story of Rhaenys Targaryen, one of Aegon the Conqueror's sister-wives, so many times she felt she could recite the text backwards. Visenya had been a sister more remembered and revered by history for her valor and fierceness as a warrior; though Jaenara found herself drawn to the gentler sister. Rhaenys was more of a revered politician than a feared warrior. To Jaenara, she was just as formidable. She wanted to be like the Queen. Loved and feared. 

A knock upon the door turns her attention away from her histories. Jacaerys enters her chambers and lingers at the door for a moment, before resigning himself to sit next to her on the plush bed. 

“Jace,” Jaenara breathes, closing the text. 

Jacaerys looks over the book. 

“Again?” He attempts a small smile. 

Jaenara gets up from her place on the bed to create some distance between her and her brother. She places the book on her writing desk, taking mental note not to leave the book behind when she leaves tomorrow. “I find comfort through her in times such as these.” she responds shortly. 

Jace sighs, “You have been avoiding me.”

“You have made it easy.”

“Nara,” Jacaerys begins to sound annoyed, “You are not the only person who has had to…adapt to this change.”

Jaenara turns swiftly towards her brother, loose raven tresses swaying behind her wildly, “No, but I am the only person amongst us who had had their hand sold to a snake. You cannot understand my grief, Jace! You are betrothed to Baela - sweet Baela. You two actually like each other. But I am condemned to be the conciliatory sacrifice of this family.“

You are being unfair. Jaenara says to herself — she knows it to be true. You are being difficult. But she cannot help it. Her twin was afforded the luxury of being born a man. A man who did not have to face the same realities she currently found herself in.

Jace shifts on her bed, frame creaking under him. He seems to struggle finding his words, “I…you are right Jaenara,” He sighs, “I do not know what it is like. Just as you do not know what it is like to now be heir of the Seven Kingdoms.”

She glances at him and her twin continues.

“We both have the burdens of our parents to bear. We wear crowns too heavy for us.” Jace is solemn.

Jaenara bites her lip hard and lets out a shaky breath. A sickly sheen of guilt settled in her stomach. It was true that she had not considered what the rest of her family had been feeling of late. She seats herself beside Jacaerys and the bed groans under their weight once more. 

“I am sorry Jace.” Is all she can muster up.

Jace places a reassuring hand over her own. “You may yet make some use out of your upcoming marriage.”

Confused, Jaenara looks to her brother.

“Aemond is a fierce fighter. He is well versed in the histories and philosophies. I hear he has become a knowledgeable strategist. He rides the largest and oldest dragon, who is no stranger to battle.” Copper eyes meet lilac eyes. “And with you as his wife, he will be in our pocket.”

“He would be a formidable ally to have. But Aegon holds a seat on mother’s council - not Aemond.” Jaenara asserts.

“I as heir and you as his wife could sway this decision.”

“Mother has not even been crowned and you are already scheming.” Jaenara’s words are not so chiding as they are playful.

“Not scheming. I only hold our best interests in mind.” Jace tells his sister.

She looks him over once more. When had they become so…grown-up?

“You tell me you are fearful of wearing the crown one day…I think you will come to wear it well.” Jaenara softly smiles as Jacaerys scoffs and rises to his feet. 

“Just think it over, Nara,” He turns to the door, “You must rest. We rise early in the morning and depart for King’s Landing.” 

Before he leaves, he throws a glance at his sister over his shoulder. “I won’t let any harm come to you…from him.”

Jaenara does not let on how much the words mean to her. She has always disguised her true feelings under a cover of dripping sarcasm. “You need not worry about me, brother. Perhaps you should protect him from me.”

Jacaerys laughs and leaves again.

As Jaenara climbs into bed, she considers her brother's words.

Where he may prove to fail as a husband, he could make up for as an advisor. A weapon.

The princess blows out the candle and dreams.

In her slumber, Jaenara is face to face with Aemond Targaryen. He stands opposite to her, in front of a throng of people. She looks down and sees herself clad in an ornate dress of scarlet, white, and gold. Her black hair is pinned up in several twisting braids. The One Eyed Prince looks to his beautiful bride, eye full of admiration. For a moment, she thinks he might love her.

She thinks she may like that.

Suddenly, gasps are heard around the crowd. The gasps morph into shouts, scattered all over the Great Hall. A sharp pain. Jaenara feels a sticky warmth envelop her cheek, and feels something dribble onto her wedding gown. She reaches a trembling hand up to her face, pulls it back, and watches blood soak her palm, dripping below her wrist and all the way down the length of her arm. The wails echoing throughout the hall only grow around her. It is maddening. A sickening pop makes her blood run cold and she watches as one of her eyes rolls onto the floor below. 

Her husband’s mouth moves yet his voice comes out delayed, a haunting chorus.

An eye for an eye.

Jaenara wakes to another knock at her door. 

“My lady, may I help you dress?”

The princess wills her breath steady and wipes the sweat from her brow.

“Come…come in!” She calls out to her handmaiden. 

There was no time to dwell on the meaning of dreams.

— — — 

Prince Aemond sits across from Helaena as her children busy themselves with their toys. A handmaiden hands Jahaerys a toy dragon, which the boy launches at his brother. 

“I think I will be glad to see them today,” Helaena says suddenly, looking up from her embroidery, “In truth, I have missed Jaenara.”

Aemond continues to watch his niece and nephews play as he answers his sister, “You may be the only one amongst us who feels that way,” He mutters, “Though I do remember how close you and Jaenara were as children.”

Helaena had been an even lonelier child than she was now, as a lonely young woman. Always murmuring words that his family could not understand, and did little in trying to understand. Aemond had always felt sorry for her. But Jaenara did not seem to mind her aunt’s off putting nature. He recalls them as young girls, running throughout the castle gardens together, trying to catch butterflies. He remembers as they grew older, a few young ladies in court had taken to calling his sister, Helaena The Hysterical.

Before Aemond could put an end to the name calling, Jaenara had done it herself. The girls in court would not so much as look at either of them wrong.

And most of all, Jaenara listened to Helaena. Something nobody in his family seemed to do. Not even him, in truth. 

“I would hope you two can become close as well,” She gives her brother a wistful look, “You are to be married.”

“I think us siblings are doomed to hold strained relationships - at best - with their marriage partners.” Aemond replies. 

Helaena looks down at her sewing. Maelor and Jaehaerys fight over a wooden horse. Aemond’s sister remains in front of him, though she looks as though she is worlds away.

“Those child led astray finds solace in the embrace of the sea.” she whispers.

Aemond’s attention is redirected from children to mother. A silence passes over him and his sister’s handmaids.

More innocuous ramblings, he thinks.

A servant enters the door to inform the sibling’s of The-Queen-To-Be’s arrival.

“Come, sister,” Aemond begins, “Alicent will be waiting for us. She wishes to receive our family in the Great Hall.”

Helaena sets down her embroidery and looks up at her brother, “A dragon’s ambition foretells his own undoing.” 

Aemond chooses not to hear her words.

— — —

Jaenara and her family’s reception in the Great Hall could not have felt more strained. Guarded expressions and tight lipped smiles adorned Alicent and her children - though Aemond and Aegon had not smiled at all. Helaena seemed blissfully unaware of the anxious energy surrounding her. Jaenara had sent a secret smile her way - a genuine one. And though she felt her uncle’s eyes boring into her, she refused to meet his gaze. 

Rhaenyra had been displeased by the whole ordeal, hoping to ease tensions at dinner. Jaenara found herself remembering the last dinner she had shared with her entire family and thought it to be an impossible task.

Jaenara had spent the time before dinner settling into her new chambers, though all her belongings had already been settled into place before her arrival. The room felt more inviting than her chamber’s in Dragonstone, which were drab and dreary. Though, this was the only silver lining she could find about her circumstances thus far.

When the time had come to prepare for the evening, the princess disrobed from her riding leathers, the smell of dragon peeling off along with them. Her handmaidens help her to dress in a gown that Rhaenyra had picked out for her.

I do not even have the agency to dress myself now?

Jaenara stepped into a dress of crushed velvet, a dark teal in color. The neckline was embroidered with pearls, illuminating her collarbones. The sleeves of the gown hang loosely and open at her wrists, revealing a pale cream color which lines the teal. A belt of silver bangles mixed with pearls hangs around her waist, crested above the teal, cream, and aquamarine shades of fabric that pool to the floor. The attire bore the unmistakable air of Velaryon fashion. The wearer, not so much.

Portions of Jaenara’s dark silky hair were re-braided into a ring, as if it were a crown sitting atop her head, while the rest of her hair remained loose. Black waves ran down her back like a waterfall. 

Her ladies had been told to do this, to help her into a fine gown. To adorn her ears and wrists with bangles. To fix her hair in a way that flattered her face.

To impress him.

She almost laughs out loud at the thought. Jaenara figured that Aemond would find her as charming as he had found that pig he’d been gifted all those years ago.

She decides to regard him similarly, despite her thoughts drifting to long platinum hair that she envied so much. 

Her maids had finally finished with their work. 

Jaenara is sitting around a great wooden table in the dining hall, with the entirety of her family. Servants have begun to deposit plates filled with meats and vegetables and pies and cakes all around. The clanking of plates and silverware fills an otherwise quiet room. Jaenara is begrudgingly sitting next to her uncle, and Jace and Luke shoot her looks of pity from across the table. She picks up her glass and takes a swig.

Suddenly, Rhaenyra Targaryen speaks, “I wish to clear the air,” She begins and everyone looks up from their plates. Alicent Hightower seems especially stiff. 

“I do not wish for this to be a time of tension and formalities - though I do thank you,” She looks at Alicent directly, “for your welcoming reception earlier today. I want us to speak freely amongst each other. I want only what our father, Viserys, wanted.” She makes a gesture towards her siblings at the end of her sentence. Aegon clears his throat.

“There is much to discuss in the coming days, but I want this to be a night of camaraderie and celebration.” Her mother stands, drink in hand, “Let us raise our glasses-”

Jaenara feels herself melting into her chair.

“-To the union between my cherished daughter, Jaenara Velaryon, and the prince Aemond Targaryen. May their union bring strength and prosperity to our noble houses, and may it be blessed by the gods." Her voice held a hint of cautious optimism, echoing the hopes and dreams of a realm poised on the brink of new alliances.

Jaenara lifts her glass, as well as her attention to the man next to her. Aemond is already looking at his niece, a smirk on his face. 

To everyone’s surprise, Alicent Hightower rises from her seat. She looks less burdened from the words of Rhaenyra.

“Thank you, Your Grace…for your unflinching understanding.” The two women share a look, “And to Jaenara and Aemond. A lovely match indeed.”

Helaena begins to clap, though no one else around the table shares her sentiments.

Aegon lets out an audible laugh at the toastings, “Apologies,” he adds quickly, “I am just so - overjoyed by this…marriage.” His voice drips with sarcasm. 

Jaenara forces a smile, though her eyes shine with a different expression, “I am happy this match pleases you, uncle.” 

However, Aemond does not let the jab pass unanswered. "I hope your joy does not swell too greatly, brother," he retorts, "for dragons have been known to breathe fire when overshadowed." 

Jaenara sits up straighter when she sees Aegon roll his eyes and throw back his cup. She regards Aemond with a quizzical gaze. The princess regarded Aemond’s retort as nothing more than a brotherly spat. Before any more slights can be passed around, the servants finish bringing out the rest of the food. The family begins their dinner and small conversations break out amongst those resigned to sit next to each other.

The princess watches her brothers laugh with Baela and Rhaena. Sees her mother and step-father speak with one another. She pushes her food around her plate.

The sudden sound of Aemond’s voice makes her jump, “The cooking of the castle staff does not please you?” he asks, amused.

Jaenara stops playing with her food and her eyes cut away to her uncle.

“The first conversation you wish to have with me - in years - is whether or not I like our meal?” her voice drips with condescending skepticism, “As if the fate of the realm hinges on my opinion of pigeon pie?”

He tsks at her, “Always so difficult niece. I am only attempting to make conversation. An endeavor that seems beneath you - a pursuit you avoid at all costs if it is with me.”

“You are just…quite bad at it.” Jaenara remarks.

It is Aemond’s turn to take a sip of his drink to hide his annoyance.

“I do enjoy that…costume you’re wearing. But you are more a Targaryen than a Velaryon - don’t you agree?” Aemond says lowly.

Jaenara knows his remarks are meant to be demeaning, though she tries to take it in stride. She was a Targaryen after all. And she was pleased that she acted so much like one that people took notice, even if it was Aemond. But an insult was an insult all the same. 

Exasperated, Jaenara turns to the prince fully, “Is this what I can expect when married to you? Insults thrown at me for all my days to come? You should know I can deal them out as well, twice as hard.”

Aemond chuckles, “You are too easy and quick to provoke, Jaenara. You are too tense.” She sees something flicker beneath his eye.

Aemond took pleasure in goading his niece, reveling in the predictability of her fiery responses. More silence passes between them. The prince watches Jaenara force a few bites of food into her mouth and continues to eavesdrop on conversations around her. Daemon whispers something to Rhaenyra, and her mother takes a glance at her daughter and half-brother. Jaenara winces. 

“You asked what you can expect being my…wife,” Aemond’s surprisingly soft gaze is already fixed upon her, “You can expect a union that does not harbor any illusions of love. But one founded on mutual…respect. Understanding. We shall navigate this pact with the grace and duty befitting of our situation if you would only allow it.” His words somehow put her at ease.

Jaenara is perplexed. Maybe her mother had been right in saying that Aemond had changed. Though she was skeptical of his remarks. It was yet uncertain whether they could truly let go of all that had transpired in the past. 

Although, the princess felt ever the faintest tinge of disappointment at his words.

“Well…” She begins, though her words do not come out as strong as she would like them to under her uncle’s intense stare, “I am…pleased to hear that. We do not have to feign ignorance then. I expected nothing more from us.”

To Jaenara’s dismay, Aemond seems amused. It is not so often she stumbles over her words. His gaze lingers over her. He takes notice of the pearl that sits prettily below her collarbones. He watches her eyes fall to her hands, which she wrings in her lap. Jaenara finds that she does not like how being at a loss for words makes her feel, and decides to throw back her drink, trying to find comfort in the bottom of the chalice.

[mamawasatesttube]

wish more ppl in the timkon tag understood the concept of "best friends to lovers" 😩 where's my "years' worth of stupid inside jokes referenced at the worst moments just to make each other giggle" nonsense. where's the bone-deep understanding and knowing of each other. the ease and relaxation in each other's presence. the "i know how your head works without you having to tell me" of it all. where's the "no one knows me better than you. how could it be anyone but you" of it all!!!

[myoddessy]

most wanted woman on youtube | w2s/harry lewis

summary —everyone wants a piece of the world's most iconic youtuber gf, and she's willing to give the starving population a little crumb.... much to harry's frustration.

*inspired by the 'character' of bog's mrs by the wonderful @whoetoshaw

ynslover "the streets are saying y/n's festival style is cheap—" the streets are full of shit.

wroetoshawssss she OWNS festival szn

ynslover boomtown? nah, yntown is where it's at.

amyleclerc how is she literally the hottest person alive.

faithlouisak ikr?!

ynsbabymama faith???

faithlouisak I follow as many y/n fan accounts as I can, babes. I need to keep on top of my updates

lesbians4yn what's the cutest thing in the world, and why is it y/n through the eyes (posts) of the other sidemen gfs?

tagged: @taliamar @yourusername

faithxyn the picture of her and talia is literally my fav picture ever taken 🥺

mrnmrswroetoshaw the fact that most of them are candid and show her all smiley proves that she really is such a genuine person and such a softie even though she tries to play it off

taliamar oh she's the biggest cuddlebug known to man behind closed doors 🩷

bbetasquad the way the sdmn gfs always comment on fan accounts of y/n kills me 😭

ynswifeyy it's the fact that they post her more than they post their own bfs for me

maclar3n faith is THE WORST (best) for it too 😭 always posting their dates and throwing digs at harry in the captions

yourusername life lately (non-chaotic version) 🤍

faithlouisak hey sexy 😏💋

yourusername hey beautiful 😍😘

faithlouisak literally marry me

yourusername anything you want, my lover ❤️

harryswroetoshaw I genuinely can't tell if they're joking anymore 😭

faithlouisak we're not.

freyanightingale how are you so beautiful??

taliamar omg you're so sexy, are you single??

yourusername no but my bf smells so it doesn't matter ❤️

ynfanpage the sdmn gfs thirsting in her comments ☠️ they just like us fr

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 39!

yay more fics! guys i have to tell you this was an excellent reading week for me, so many brilliant fics!

two things: some of these fics aren't buddie but gen/a rare pair, but i figured i'd keep the title, since it applies to the majority of fics. i'll make sure it's clear which fics are for other ships! also, now that season 8 is airing, i've decided to keep the buddie fic rec list spoiler-free, and i'm setting up a season 8 rec list alongside it. this week's season 8 list can be found here!

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading!

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

5 times buck and eddie thought they were on the same page +1 where they figured it out | WendyDarling95/@bi-buck-hi-eddie | 11.8k | E

"Ok but miscommunication trope where Eddie keeps trying to tell Buck he’s a werewolf and Buck thinks Eddie’s telling him he’s a furry. Buck would buy a fur suit absolutely" i'm genuinely not joking when i say that this fic was the highlight of my week. it's crack treated seriously in the absolute best way, i was howling (lol) while reading. brilliant <3

the book of love | colonoscopys/@colonoscopys | 8.1k | G

It was a pretty regular day. He had an eight hour shift the day before, slept in a little bit, ate dry toast and drank a black coffee before dropping Chris off at physical therapy for an hour. If he had known he was gonna die, he would have sprung for the hashbrowns in the freezer. time loop fic!! lovely lovely time loop fic!!

but you're holdin' me like water in your hands | TheGirlWithTheKite/@muddiedfoxglove | 11k | E

In which Eddie offers a helping hand when Buck's relationship starts to sour. (The Frogboiled Infideleddie Fic) frogboiled infideleddie?? yall the way i ran to this fic the second i saw it <3 so so so good

constant craving | Inell/@inell | 7.8k | E

Buck and Eddie have recently started dating, and it’s their third official date. While playing a game of pool, they make a little wager, and Buck gets to indulge a craving he’s had for years. i spent a lovely hour this morning catching up inell's recent fics and i highly recommend you do the same!! brilliant fics, both of the sweet and spicy variety <3

FREE MOUSTACHE RIDES | Killbothtwins | 5k | T

All is not well in Station 118. Gerrard is running the show, Christopher is gone, and, worst of all, Eddie has a mustache now. Somehow, it's only Buck who realizes how catastrophic this is. this is exactly the fic i needed to cheer me up earlier this week. so good, so funny!!

keep your brittle heart warm | Ink_Dancer | 8.8k | T

Buck convinces Eddie, notoriously a dog person, to adopt a cat. Buck then helps Eddie adjust to his new family member while the cat tries to meddle in their relationship. fics like this make me want to adopt a cat even more than i already do. so sweet, so cute, i love pinto bean <3

a little wisdom | Daisies_and_Briars/@cal-daisies-and-briars | 8.6k | T

Christopher comes home from Texas and needs his wisdom teeth removed, which leads to a larger discussion on hurt and comfort and needs that Eddie doesn't see coming. the diaz boys <3 i love them so much and they're so so well-written here!!

the more it hurts, the less it shows | ummrys/@ummrys | 2.4k | M

Eddie finally hears the story of Dr Wells, and Buck finally understands the depth of what happened to him. so well-written and a great look at the whole dr wells thing!!

nothin' but a little shut eye | Tizniz/@tizniz | 3.9k | G

Buck and Eddie accidentally nap together. And then keep napping together. buddie naps i love you so much <3 this is the softest cutest it's so good

put my heart inside your palms | markofalover/@markofalover| 3.1k | T

how an accidental pet name, a thoughtful dinner, and a shared shirt makes them get their shit together.. love is stored in the kitchen indeed <3 this is so so cute!

suddenly the only thing i saw was you | ipretendtobesane/@userbuddie | 8.2k | E

five times adriana diaz and may grant run into each other and the one time they show up together adriana/may?? the VISION holy shit. this is a brilliant fic and has probably my fav adriana diaz ever, it's just that good <3

[formulaa-1]

instagram au⛱️ G.R

fem!reader x George Russell

a sneak peak into the Miami GP with y/n and George and a little suprise… <3

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y/nusername’s story

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georgerussell63

georgerussell63: vibing in Miami☀️⛱️

tagged: y/nusername

Liked by y/nusername, lilymhe and 304,368 others

view all 579 comments

y/nusername: mwahh😚

Liked by georgerussell63

georgerussell63: I love you❤️

y/nusername: I love you🫶🏼🫶🏼

landonorris: ew guys

georgerussell63: where’s your gf at ?

landonorris: oi

user28: the girls are fighting again

fan2729: lando in the comments 😭

mercgirl101: the cutest couple ❤️

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y/nusername

y/nusername: lil Miami dump <3 ft. mr serious :)

tagged: georgerussell63

Liked by georgerussell63, lilymhe, alex_albon and 97,292 others

view all 138 comments

georgerussell63: i might be serious by I’m most serious about u 😉

y/nusename: smooth👀

landonorris: George has rizz?

georgerussell63: more rizz than you mr lando norizz

user09: BAHAHAHAHA

ln4.fanpage: George’s reply to Lando has me in tears LMAO����😭😭

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georgerussell63

georgerussell63: my pretty girl in Miami 🌊☀️

tagged: y/nusername

Liked by y/nusername, lilymhe, yourmumsuser and 388,789 others

view all 456 comments

y/nusername: I love you but why did you have to post the last photo 🥲🫶🏼

georgerussell63: because your beautiful baby.

grussellgirly63: STOP IT RN.🥹🥹❤️

fanoflh44_: I need a man like George Russell fr

user356: brb sleeping on the highway tonight.

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georgerussell63

georgerussell63: y/n, you make me want to be the best version of myself ,you love me on both my worst and best days and for that I’m forever thankful for you.I love you so much and I promise to always love and cherish you and I’m so grateful I have you in my life and that I’ll get to call you my wife. I love you ❤️

tagged: y/nusername

Liked by y/nusername,alexalbon, lilymhe and 742,257 others

comments on this post are limited

y/nusername: I love you so much G❤️

georgerussell63: I love you most pretty girl ❤️

lilymhe: congratulations you two🥹🫶🏼

Liked by y/nusername & georgerussell63

alex_albon: congratulations!!!!!❤️

lewishamilton: congratulations both of you ! roscoe says he misses y/n!❤️🐾

y/nusername: I miss roscoe,also tell him he can be the ring boy🫶🏼

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y/nusername

y/nusername: my forever, I truly am the luckiest girl on the planet, G i love you so much and I can’t wait to be your wife.❤️

tagged: georgerussell63

Liked by georgerussell63, lewishamilton, yourfriendsuser and 156,995 others

comments on this post are limited

georgerussell63: I love you , I can’t wait for you to be Mrs russell ;)

y/nusername: I love love love you❤️

yourfriendsuser: congratulations angel ❤️❤️

Liked by y/nusername

landonorris: congrats 🫶🏼 can I be like the godfather or something when you have a kid ?

georgerussell63: no go away

y/nusername: we kinda already told lily and Alex they could be the godparents😬

landonorris: you better be joking

alex_albon: 😏😏😏

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authors note🎀 hey guys sorry I haven’t posted an au in like a week Iv been so unmotivated ,sorry about that! I’ll try get through the requests as quick as I can <3 I hope your all okay and doing well ! take care of yourselves 🫶🏼

[liyawritesss]

ʟᴏᴠɪɴɢ ᴇʟʟɪᴇ ᴡɪʟʟɪᴀᴍꜱ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇ...

Characters: Ellie Williams x Black!Fem!Reader

From: The Last Of Us Part II (Game Series)

Type: Headcanons

Synopsis: What would it be like to fall in love with the smart-mouthed badass Ellie Williams in a world recovering from a zombie apocalypse?

Warnings: mentions of game-canon violence, mentions of weapons (primarily guns), mentions of blood, mentions of mental illness, cursing

A/N: Yet another tag I gotta fill with x black!reader, cuz lets be honest - let Ellie get a black gf; all manners and common sense are going out the window. JOEL IS ALIVE AND WELL IN THIS

Tags: @verachii @percsane

Sign up for my tag list here!

You and Ellie first met when she was sent to your little garden/apothecary to assist you in finding some plants that had been rebudding around the Jackson community area. At first, she was apprehensive to the idea - why did she of all people had to go out and collect fucking flowers and leaves? - but her mouth had already gotten her into trouble today, and she couldn’t bear another lecture from anyone, so she bit her tongue hard and went to find your little greenhouse near the center of town.

Her amazement comes across as a look of confusion when she steps into the greenhouse. She’s met with a pleasant scent of lavender, bundles of it hanging from the doorframe. She finds you tending to some plants in the middle of the room, and when your eyes lock, her breath catches in her throat, because holy fuck, no one told her that this herbalist lady was her age, and fine as fuck.

You greet her with a smile and hand her the list of things needed, telling her to take her time since you know that some of them may be difficult to find. She flips through the notebook you’ve given her, paying special attention to the detailed drawings, commemorating them to memory, before she sets off with only the thought of pleasing the herbalist girl with her findings.

When she comes back, it’s the dead of night, and she’s a bit durtied and bruised from what you’re sure to be a fight with some undead, but she has every item on the list you’d given her. From that point on, the two of you became close acquaintances, friends, and more.

She finds your presence so peaceful. When you’re up making ointments and remedies for the patrol squads, she joins you with her sketchpad. The two of you sit together in perfect silence, some jokes being shared here and there. Her sketchpad quickly fills up with drawings of you doing various activities - drinking tea, watering plants, grinding leaves into powders, making dyes, etc. Watching you becomes her favorite pastime.

After a while of knowing each other, she becomes more comfortable with being a smartmouth with you, and is excited when you match her energy. You always have a rebuttal to one of her remarks and it sparks something in Ellie that urges her on more and more. 

She becomes more touchy, too, though that aspect is primarily reassured by you. Although neither of you have disclosed much information about your past, you can tell she’s been through a lot, and could only imagine the worst when she would pull away from your touch in the beginning. It takes a long time, but the sweet hugs shared after accomplishing yet another supply run for you were definitely worth the wait.

And they’re quite literally the best hugs you’ve ever had. It could be a simple side hug with her pulling you by your hip to her chest, or it could be one of the longer ones, where her arms slip around your waist, her head dipping into your neck as she inhales your scent. You love them all.

Ellie claims that all your plant stuff is boring and lame, but she’s so very attentive when you’re rambling off a new herb or a new concoction you’ve made, and learns the names of the flowers you like the most. She soon learns that lavender is your favorite, which is why it hangs everywhere around the greenhouse, but also because it smells heavenly and reduces anxiety and provokes calmness. It quickly becomes her own, too.

She loves when you braid her hair. The two french braids leading into a bun is her favorite style, and even though she’s always messing it up when she’s on patrol, fighting and escaping from zombies and enemy groups alike, you’re happy to wash and redo her hair every time.

Ellie’s confession obviously doesn’t go the way she planned. And yes, she did plan on confessing to you her affections at some point, but she tells herself that she’s waiting for the right time. While part of that may be true, the bigger picture was her general fear of rejection - which was absurd to her, she never gave two fucks about what people thought about her. But when it came to you, everything mattered.

You’d never looked at Ellie’s notebook before. It was her privacy, and you were one to respect boundaries, but when she left the book open to go talk to Dina and Jesse about something, especially on a particular page that had your face drawn onto the cream paper of the sketchbook, your curiosity took over your senses.

It was a drawing of you drinking tea and reading a book. You remember that day - she was exceptionally quiet that day and only wanted to be around you. So you let her chill in the greenhouse with you while you did your normal routines. The intricate and detailed lines on the page sparked something in you that you thought you had pushed away, a surge of emotions reawakening in your stomach.

Ellie comes back in and nearly goes into a rage when she sees you seemingly flipping pages in her sketchbook, and although you try to reason with her, she’s not having it. She thinks you invaded her privacy, and she continues to think so as she leaves the greenhouse for the evening.

She comes back though, at the dead of night as you’re cleaning up and setting things up for the next morning, looking remorseful like a lost puppy. She apologizes, and you come to sit next to her, your legs touching, and you tell her that you accept her apology.

Ellie pauses for a moment, looking into your eyes for what seems like forever, before she begins speaking. The way she speaks is damn near contradicting about she feels about you, but in the end she gets her point across - she likes you, a lot, and needs to know how you feel about her in order for her to get some form of clarity and sanity back to her brain

And you tell her that you feel the same, that you’re attracted to her in such a way and so strongly that it shouldn’t even be possible - surely isn’t wise or sane considering the times the two of you currently live in, and yet, you still found yourself yearning for the brunette when you knew you shouldn’t

At this point the two of you are impossibly close, and the way Ellie’s eyes keep darting between your own and your lips, it’s definitely got a pool of heat swirling in your stomach. And before either of you realize it, her lips are on yours, and you’re experiencing your first and the most electrifying kiss of your life. And just like that, you become Ellie’s and she becomes yours

She  makes a vow to protect you in every possible way she can. When and if you do go out on the search for supplies, she’s always accompanying you regardless of whatever she may have been doing prior. She teaches you how to use a gun and a bow and arrow (of which, you favor the latter) so that you have the skills to protect yourself when she’s not there. 

She never let anyone talk to you any kind of way, but its amplified now because she has an obligation to make sure people know who the fuck they’re talking to. No one talks out the side of their neck to her girl and gets away with it. If all she does is curse them out, as long as they get the idea and don’t pull anything anymore, all is good.

Introducing you to Joel as your girlfriend is the most awkward thing for her…and you better believe he’s poking fun at her about her stellar choice in a significant other (trust me, he’s been waiting for this moment, because he just knew that she’d go after you of all people in the community. In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was in on organizing your initial meeting. He’s definitely the wingman Ellie didn’t know she needed.

She doesn’t engage in PDA, but when it’s just the two of you alone? Best believe she’s getting her fill of hugs and kisses whenever she can. You’re not promised tomorrow, so she wants to love you to the fullest extent she can. 

Brings you back flowers from her patrols that you don’t even ask for, but because they’re pretty and remind her of you. You can try as you might to tell her you don’t need them - it’ll only provoke her to bring you more

On the longer nights where she’s too exhausted mentally and physically to speak, she curls into you and just lets you take over her senses. It’s a rather rare occasion, so you savor it while it lasts. You take care of Ellie at her most vulnerable and that’s all she could ever really ask for from someone.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

[daddyy333]

Sensitive | Lo’ak x fem!omaticaya!reader

if you’d like you can reblog my original work, but please don’t post it without credit. if you take inspiration from my ideas please tag me, I’d like to see how someone else would write it

word count: 2.9k

warnings: readers very insecure and shy, reader was technically bullied as a kid, ?

summary: Y/n was always told she was overdramatic and sensitive growing up, so she kept quiet and didn’t tell anyone when something bothered her. Now, watching her mate potentially fall in love with another woman, she’s too worried about overreacting and refuses to say anything until eventually she can’t handle it anymore.

anything in bold like this in the middle of a sentence means it’s either Na’vi or meant to be in Na’vi but I don’t trust the translation websites so I just use the few words I know and make do with it💀

“It’s just a joke”

“You’re too sensitive”

“It doesn’t even matter”

“Why do you care so much?”

“You’re overreacting”

Your whole life, you’ve always been sensitive. It wasn’t hard to bring you down or upset you. You were always overthinking every little thing, analyzing every word a person said and the way they said it. You wished you were different, every single day you tried to stop caring so much but you couldn’t help it.

By the time you turned 18, you were quieter than a mouse. You only talked around your few friends, and even then you didn’t say too much in fear of seeming too sensitive. When something bothered you, you just stayed quiet and kept it to yourself.

Lo’ak thought you were just shy. You were really quiet all the time, but he was so attracted to you; he just had to get to know you. You really loved Lo’ak, more than anything on Pandora. He was so nice to you, and you trusted him and opened up to him a little, and he still accepted you fully.

You didn’t tell him everything though, you didn’t want to ruin something so good. You’d be heartbroken if Lo’ak left you so you made sure you were careful with what you said and how you reacted.

You mated before Eywa and it was a beautiful experience. You both took your time learning each other's bodies and making each other feel good. You were close to opening up all the way after that night, but you were still worried he wouldn’t accept you and all your flaws.

2 years later, you had to leave the forest and it terrfied you. You couldn’t help it then, you burst into tears and cried through it all. The forest was your home. This was where you felt safest. This was where you fell in love, where you were meant to be.

Lo’ak seemed to understand your worries though, and you were thankful. He held you as you cried, wiping your tears and helping you say goodbye to everyone. He felt bad when he could see tears flowing down your face as you rode your ikrans out of the forest.

You made it the Metkayina’s territory and naturally they got defensive and began to try and intimidate you, and the worst part was that it worked. Lo’ak could feel you shaking and he felt bad, wrapping his tail around your thigh and trying to comfort you as best he could.

You noticed Lo’ak look over at a young woman, but he quickly returned his attention to Olo’eyktan and Tsahík again. You looked over at her, ears turned down as you realized how much prettier she was than you.

You tried to ignore it, but when she was one of the Na’vi meant to tutor you guys, it made it hard to forget about it. You were worried Lo’ak would fall for her instead. She was very very pretty, and her voice was smooth and melodic, with the most gorgeous eyes ever too.

Lo’ak was attached to you at the hip the first few weeks. It helped reassure you that he was yours, always. He would always have an around wrapped around you or his fingers intertwined with yours, or at the very least have his tail caressing your back or wrapped around your leg or arms.

But he slowly started getting closer to Tsireya. He’d go sit next to her during lessons and you always sat next to him so you’d follow, and over time you could see the two of them giggling together whenever you took breaks, and she was so touchy in ways she wasn’t with everyone else. At least that’s how it seemed.

You were honestly a little heartbroken, you really hoped he wasn’t like that. You don’t know what you’d do if he asked for a second wife. It’d kill you. The worst part, she’s been trying to be friends with you.

You don’t want to be mean, so you indulge in whatever it is she wants. You’re actually quite close, you tell her lots of things and she actually helps you learn the way of the Metkayina quite a lot. It seems like she tries to talk about Lo’ak a lot, which sucks because it only convinces you more and more that they’re going to get involved any day now.

Lo’ak seems a little distant as time goes on. He’s not making love to you a lot, leaving you lying awake in the late hours of the night trying to ignore your arousal, even with your mate right next to you. He only really makes love to you when your in heat or when he is in rut, but it’s always rough and not as sweet because it’s the only way to relieve the pain.

He also sits with Tsireya a lot at dinner. Or he’ll tell her to come sit with you guys. You come close to snapping and telling him just how much it’s bothering you countless times but you don’t want to risk being seen as dramatic.

You find out you’re pregnant and initially you were overjoyed, excited to become a mother and forever grateful to Eywa for this gift. But then your heart sinks. How would Lo’ak react? You were worried about everything now. Would he still love you after all the changes your body was about to go through? Would he be even more distant?

When you told him he nearly screamed, picking you up and jumping around out of pure excitement. He threw you over his shoulder, making you scream as he ran out to the main gathering place for the clan and said “I’m going to be a father!”

The surrounding people laughed and congratulated you guys, and when his family came out, he ran to them and said “you’re going to be grandparents!” And instantly had Neytiri sobbing. He finally put you down and you groaned, nauseous from all the movement.

You were less worried realizing how excited he was, and it seemed like things got better after that. He was always taking you on dates, rubbing your bump and talking to the baby constantly, helping you through your morning sickness when he could, and he was always hunting and bringing you your favorite foods to keep you strong and healthy.

You concluded that maybe he was a bit distant the last few months, but you’d be okay now that you were about to become parents and he was so present now. Obviously he still spent time with Tsireya, which you didn’t mind, but every now and then you had your doubts.

He took you on a date night, preparing a sweet dish for you since all you wanted to eat were sweet things and took you swimming with Payakan, telling him how the baby was kicking now and showing off your bump. You rolled your eyes playfully at Lo’ak, he was convinced that your bump got bigger every single day.

Payakan let you guys rest on his back and watch the stars until you got tired and fell asleep cuddled in Lo’ak’s arms. He smiled softly, pressing a kiss to your cheek. He fell asleep not that long after, keeping his hand on your bump to hopefully soothe your very active baby and keep it from kicking you all night.

When he woke up, you were still sleeping peacefully, being spooned by him as you mumbled softly in your sleep. He smiled to himself, kissing your head and caressing your bump. He felt the little one move slightly and he couldn’t help it as he blushed a little.

He spent a few minutes with you before he got up and had payakan bring you closer to the island and told him to wake up at sunrise if he wasn’t already there. He got to the island and prepared all his things to hunt for your favorite things right now and spent about 2 hours hunting.

He came back with tons of food, enough to last you a few days and immediately woke up Tsireya to help him cook it the way you liked. He wanted to celebrate today, as it was your 3 year anniversary and you were already halfway through your pregnancy. He was so excited, he almost wanted to leave Tsireya to finish cooking so he could go spend time with you.

You woke up to Payakan moving wildly and you quickly walked over to where he could see you to calm him down. The sun was halfway up, and you realized Lo’ak wasn’t with you anymore. You frowned slightly and noticed Payakan bringing you close to the island so you assumed Lo’ak was already there.

You greeted Jake and Neytiri as you happened to walk past them on the way to your marui pod and of course had to let Tuk talk to the baby for a few minutes and let them feel the little one kick. Tuk was so so so excited for the baby to come, she was asking almost every day if the baby would be here soon.

You eventually continued your journey to your home and when you got closer you heard some laughter and giggling. You recognized Lo’aks laugh but there was someone else’s. You listened for a few more seconds and realized it was Tsireya.

Every insecurity came flooding back and tears filled your eyes. Was this his plan the whole time? To have you sleeping quite literally across the ocean so he could spend time with her in your home.

You opened the flap and she was next to him, holding his hands trying to show him how to grind up these herbs properly. You scoffed and said “Lo’ak…” He immediately looked up and his eyes widened.

He smiled and said “hi, baby! How are you feeling?” “W-Why is she here?” You asked quietly, tears in your eyes. He furrowed his eyebrows and said “she’s just helping me make you breakfast. I’m making all your favorites today, and she’s a better cook than I am so I needed her to help me”

You bit your lip and shook your head, you didn’t buy it. No way she was just here to cook and that was it. You turned around and left, going to the spot you and Lo’ak always go to to spend time together alone and uninterrupted.

Tsireya looked up and said “is everything okay?” “I- I-I don’t know. Do you think I should follow her?” He asked and Tsireya thought for a moment, nodding. He quickly thanked her and went out looking for you.

It took him a while to figure out where you’d gone, but once he did he was running as fast as he could. He got to your secret spot and found you crying, leaning against the rock you two always sat by.

“Baby…y/n, hey hey what’s wrong?” He said and you sniffled. You wiped your tears quickly and said “nothing. I’m fine, I’m just overreacting, it's nothing” “no, no honey. Hey, look at me. Talk to me,” he said and you looked up at him, eyes wet and nose tinted pink from crying.

“I just…y-you’ve gotten really close to Tsireya lately and I…I’m worried that- t- t-that uhm…” you said and stopped yourself shaking your head. He sighed and said “you’re worried I’m unfaithful?” You let out a small sob and said “I-it’s not that I don’t trust you- I-I just I can’t help it sometimes. I know it’s stupid! Just go away”

“Why do you think I’m cheating?” He asked, wiping your tears. You let out a shaky breath and said “well y-…you guys are just always really close. You used to always w-want to sit with her at dinner, a-and sometimes you used to choose to be with her instead of me. E-Everytime Tsireya and I talk she wants to know about you and our relationship”

“It’s not what you think, my love. I…I asked Tsireya to get close to you so she could tell me how you were feeling about our relationship and know what to work on to keep you happy. I- I-I know you’re very quiet and shy and I know if I ask you directly you’ll tell me everything is fine so I needed someone else’s help” he said and you gasped slightly, burying your head in your hands.

He pulled you into his arms, stroking your back and letting you cry. “It’s okay, babe. I know you were just worried about our relationship, and you had every right to be. I can understand that it might’ve looked a certain way from the outside” he said and you shook your head.

“I-I was being sensitive and overdramatic like always” you whimpered and he sighed. He kissed your head and said “why do you talk so poorly of yourself, my love? I don’t think that about you, no one does” “That’s not true…” you said and he furrowed his eyebrows yet again.

He pulled you from his chest to look in your eyes and said “who tells you these things?” “I…when I was a child, I-I used to be made fun of a lot. Even m-my parents would make comments. Everyone a-around me felt that way. I just stay quiet now, s-so no one gets upset at me anymore” you said and he shook his head.

He kissed you softly and said “let me see…please?” He grabbed his kuru and you looked up at him nervously. You nodded and grabbed yours, connecting them. You took a deep, shaky breath and he kissed your forehead, caressing your hand with his thumb. You let him see everything, every memory you had of it all.

“Oh sweetheart,” he said, tears in his eyes. “You didn’t deserve that. Honey, you aren’t overreacting, you have real concerns and worries and I want you to tell me all of them. Don’t ever shy away from talking to me and telling me how you feel. We are about to become parents, don’t you think we shouldn’t keep secrets?”

You nodded and he smiled sadly, kissing you softly. “Why uhm…w-why…” you said quietly and stopped yourself. He could hear your thoughts through tsaheylu, you were wondering why Tsireya was there making breakfast with him.

He shook his head and said “because today's our 3 year anniversary and you're halfway through growing our little princess” You smiled and sniffled. You chuckled and hugged him.

He rubbed your back and said “you’ll never have to worry about me hurting you. I never will. If I did, I promise you it was never intentional and I’ll apologize every single day for the rest of my life” “you’re a really good husband, you know” you said, sniffling softly.

“I try,” he chuckled. He kissed you a few times, nuzzling his nose against yours. You smiled and said “oel ngati kameie, ma muntxatan” “oel ngati kameie” he said and nuzzled his nose against yours once more.

You giggled and said “you know, the baby is realllly hungry” “is she?” He asked and you rolled your eyes.

“We do not know if it is a girl yet,” you said and he chuckled. He rubbed your bump and said “I just know it is. She’s my little princess. And you’re my queen” “what's uhm…what’s a queen again?” You asked and he chuckled.

You still forgot human concepts here and there which he found adorable. “Like an Earth Tsahík. But way less cool” he said and you nodded, giggling. He stood up and he held his hand out to help you up.

He brought you back to your pod and Tsireya looked up and noticed your slightly reddened nose and cheeks and your still slightly teary eyes. “Oh…oh my, are you okay? Is it the baby? Is something wrong? We should get you to my mother” she said and you shook your head.

“I’m okay, Reya. The baby’s okay too. See?” You said and placed her hand on your stomach where they were kicking softly. You hugged her and she gasped a little, looking at Lo’ak as she hugged you back.

Lo’ak waved his hand dismissively and then gave a thumbs up. She rubbed your back and said “here, have some breakfast. I hope you like it” “mmm, you guys better get some while you can because it’s not gonna be here for long” you said and chuckled to yourself.

Lo’ak smiled at you as you made yourself a place and said “she was just worried that I was unfaithful because of how much time we spend together” They both giggled quietly to each other.

“I should’ve known,” she said and sighed. He shook his head and said “no, no its okay. As much as I wish she didn’t feel that way for so long, some good things came out of it” “like what?” Tsireya asked. Lo’ak bit his lip in thought and said “it’s kind of between us,”

“Ah, I see. Well, take good care of her and write out instructions for lunch and dinner for you while you eat” she said and patted his shoulder, quickly leaving the pod. He smiled to himself and wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing your neck.

You hummed and held a piece of fruit behind you for him to eat. “Come on, let’s eat on the shore” he said and you brought your plate out with you as he dragged you out of the pod, forcing you to sit in between his legs as you both watched the sun fully rise and relaxed together.

Taglist: @laylasbunbunny @goddesslilithmoriarty

As of now l'm writing for

Eddie Munson

Lo’ak

Neteyam

So just comment the taglist you want to be added to and l'll add you :)

[bunniesandbeheadings]

For over a decade now I’ve endured a very similar joke from people who, I know, both never have spoken to one another (so it’s not a conscious conspiracy) and also, I know objectively, don’t really mean me harm (because they can’t know my past history with this)

But ever since elementary school (for context: I’m a grown ass woman now with a husband and a mortgage and if I drop my favorite bag of chips on the ground I shouldn’t cry about it) every single one of my friends and also, a great majority of my family like to make a similar crack

“Did you know you’re my second best friend?”

“I love you bunnies! But I love (x) person more!”

And again, I know no individual person means me ill with this

But I’m just so. Genuinely tired of hearing this. I’m really tired of hearing my whole life “ha ha! You’re second best!”

Like it’s to the point that where a girlfriend of mine said it to me that every part of my brain fires off and told me, “ha. She thinks she’s telling you that you’re her second best friend! But here’s a funny thing you could do: just be her number one worst enemy.

Backstab the bitch

Ruin her fucking life the moment you get the chance

She thinks you’re her second best friend! Wait. You’ll find the time to show her that you’re really the worst enemy she’s ever made! Betrayal is fun!”

Cuz that’s what I want to do!

I don’t know why everyone I’ve ever met thinks it’s funny to tell me I’m their second favorite. Say nothing at all! I don’t need a ranking system! I don’t ask to be ranked people just tell me, out of nowhere, “you’re my second favorite person”

Ha ha ha

Well I’m about to be your least favorite person because I am going to actively ruin your life now! Thanks!

((See tags. No im not an actual threat. I don’t have the time for that. But what the fuck. Stop saying this to me. Stop it. I have low self esteem and I will kill us both.))

[darsynia]

Hand(s) Off | Ch 5: Chemistry

(Steve Rogers/f!Reader sex pollen-esque multichapter)

gif by @chrisevansedits

STORY MASTERLIST | STEVE MASTERLIST | PREV | NEXT

Summary: You and Steve have to navigate the aftermath of the overexposure to Mistress, and something tells you that your mood swings and inability to self-satisfy is directly related to the drug...

Length | Warnings: 3,880 | sexual situations MINORS DNI

Fill: Adoptable ‘Pheremones’ from @allcapsbingo

Tags (please request!): @starryeyes2000 @munstysmind @ronearoundblindly @chickensarentcheap @themaradaniels @tiny-anne @deepbatched @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @wolfstar-marvelsfan @icequeen1371 @chibijusstuff @nekoannie-chan @brooke0297 @caplanreads @mrsevans90 @hails270105 @venusfalling

Excerpt:

He’s wearing jeans that fit him like a second skin, a tight gray tee, and an unbuttoned long-sleeve blue flannel, which feels distinctly unfair. Somehow he looks every bit as handsome wearing this casual get-up as he had the night before in his suit pants and blue jacket. 

“You, uh--” He sounds upset, and you glance up. “Bruce says we need to be looking more at each other than not,” Steve offers with a wince.

“Right. Twist my arm, right?” you joke.

His brows furrow. “If you’re--”

“Steve! You’re handsome as hell. Not a hardship, is my point,” you tell him.

“Ah,” he says in response, and oh. There’s a bit of joy there, not quite pride, but close. If you had to name it, you’d say Steve is deeply pleased, and yep, that’s a jump in arousal, there. “Right back at ya,” he says, almost too quiet to hear it.

“They’re going to have to burn those forms,” you muse aloud.

Chemistry

You wake up the morning after your 1940’s performance feeling more refreshed than you have for weeks. The constant, low-level irritation you’ve had to learn to live with is not entirely gone, but it’s lessened, and for that you’re very grateful.

The plan is to meet Bucky for… something, but he hasn’t made clear what. You opt for a skirt to swish around your legs, voluminous but not bulky. Restrictive or tight clothing has been a no-go lately, making you feel anxious and closed-in at worst and kind of turned on at best. It’s another data point in the line of ‘things that are different since Mistress,’ but you don’t really know what to make of them all. The worst out of everything is your mood, but is that worsened by your inability to come, or is it an actual after-effect?

When you get downstairs after getting Bucky’s text, you’re surprised when he opens the door of a taxi for you. The two of you usually walk everywhere.

“Where we going?” you ask.

“It’s a surprise.” He doesn’t elaborate, instead choosing to deflect in the most unfair way possible: “Steve liked the show last night.”

You keep your expression tightly controlled, but your anxious tone gives you away. “You could have warned me about that! I’m glad he enjoyed it, but--”

“I didn’t plan all that far ahead, okay? I did it because he said yes. To the thing you asked me about.”

Embarrassment blooms from your chest and across your body, and you dart your eyes over to the taxi driver. There’s no way he can know the context, but holding a conversation about impossible orgasms with Bucky had been embarrassing enough, so alluding to it around a stranger is pretty stressful.

“Uh, thank you, then.” Your mind skips past the awkwardness to the substance of the comment, and you slump back into your seat. “That means it’s definitely related.”

“Yeah.” 

He looks out the window, and you smile down at your lap. Bucky isn’t the kind of person to smoothe over awkward things with platitudes (which often makes them worse). If he had, you’d never have had the courage to ask about Steve in the first place. You’d probably have rather withered away and died of sexual frustration instead. Not that dying isn’t still on the table.

“You uh, probably should go talk to Dr. Banner,” Bucky says, his voice overloud and uncomfortable. “He’s been running tests on Steve, thanks to his lousy mood and the--” He makes a gesture, but you deliberately look at his face, not his hands.

“He’s been having problems with that too?”

Bucky’s is the kind of expression that anyone who’s ever lived with a grumpy roommate would instantly recognize.

“Yeah, okay,” you sigh, pulling your phone from your pocket. “Give me some kind of contact number?”

The taxi stops, and he points out the window with his thumb. “How about instead, we just do it right now?”

The vehicle is stopped in front of the tower. The taxi driver is already grousing, so as the two of you get out, you hiss at your best friend, “I can't believe you set me up! I didn’t mean now! I need more mental fortitude! Banner’s an Avenger! He knows Steve personally!”

“So do I!” Bucky says, affronted.

The taxi drives off as you glare at each other, and then he sticks his left elbow out like a frustrated chaperone. It’s manipulative in a really brilliant way, because he trusts you with the knowledge that there’s a metal weapon of war under all that fabric. You swallow your pride and tuck your hand in the nook he’s created for you, and he walks you inside.

“I thought you usually went through the side door?” you ask quietly as the two of you wait in the short security line.

“I didn’t want you to have time to change your mind.” Buck grins at you, right as the two of you are guided past the checkpoint and toward the bank of elevators.

“You’re really unbelievable-- and the worst part is, you know it!”

He just settles against the back wall of the elevator and looks smug. It’s midday, so the others who file into the elevator car with the two of you are all in business wear, and you feel intensely out of place in your casual skirt and blouse. Bucky, who is out of place practically anywhere, never manages to look anything but cool.

You settle against the wall beside him, but you must look nervous, because he bumps your shoulder with his as some of the office workers from the lower floors file out. Eventually, you’re the only two left, and Bucky speaks aloud asking to be taken to the floor where Banner’s lab is.

Shall I inform Dr. Banner of your impending arrival? the AI asks drily.

“What’s the fun in that?”

The rest of the trip is short. A few seconds after the two of you step out, Bucky stops you with a hand, his lips twisting apologetically.

“I’m gonna head to the apartment. This is private, and I want to respect that-- but you didn’t volunteer for this whole mess, so if you need an advocate, some of that fortitude you mentioned, just text me.”

You’re touched by this unexpected speech, but you also feel kind of adrift; this wasn’t what you’d expected your day to be like. There’s no chance to respond though, because Bucky ducks back into the elevator after gesturing toward the correct lab.

A surprised-looking man with salt and pepper curls opens the door to your knock, so you blurt out your name, explaining that Bucky Barnes had suggested you drop by.

“Oh! Oh, that’s great, come in, come in,” the man says, offering his hand to shake. “Bruce Banner. I hope Barnes passed on my sincere regrets about what happened?”

He didn’t (you hadn’t wanted to talk about it at all until you’d realized you had to ask about The Issue), so you don’t know what to say. Luckily, Banner has already hurried off to bring over a second chair beside the lab table he’s clearly been using as a desk. 

“Have a seat. I should warn you, I’ve already got--”

He breaks off as a woman in a lab coat walks over with purpose. “All blood tests are completed.” They continue talking, but the voice of Steve Rogers behind you derails your attention.

“Dee?”

You spin around in shock. “I’m sorry, I had no idea you’d be here! Not that I would, of course, but Bucky-- Oh, my God,” you realize aloud. “Did you… tell him you were coming to the lab today?”

“No, I haven’t seen him since last night.”

“Actually, this is good,” Banner says, walking over to stand between the two of you with a placating hand held toward each. “I have some theories I’d love to expand on with a few blood and proximity tests. If you’re willing, of course.”

Proximity. You’d noticed last night that being in the same large room as Steve Rogers had mitigated some of the lesser symptoms you haven’t been brave enough to mention to anybody. The same thing is happening now, with the added complication of a really bizarre desire to move closer to him. Somewhere there’s a magnetism joke just begging to be told, but not by you.

“Is this scientific curiosity, or will it help figure out how to regulate this stuff?” Steve asks.

“My own exposure took care of the curiosity part,” Banner says, rubbing a knuckle against the side of his cheek.

“Wow, Bruce, I guess I figured the Hulk’s biology would have cleared that out for you,” Steve says, his expression a mask of concern. “At least you had more data for a solo expos--” He breaks off, embarrassment flushing his face as he looks over with dawning horror at the other occupant of the room.

“No worries, I was whisked home to my husband. We were happy to be part of the ‘control’ group,” the woman in the lab coat says with a bright smile.

“In the interests of reassurance, I’ll tell you I’m in a relationship, and that person and I, ah, handled things,” Banner says, occupying himself by studiously cleaning his glasses. “So yes, there’s data, both from the mitigation of my healing factor as well as the reactions of a wholly un-exposed partner.”

“It’s not often that I get to be a hero, but I think I’ll step in and ask if you’d be willing to give some blood while these two awkward it out? Doctor Lynette Lyonne, nice to meet you.”

You smile gratefully at Dr. Lyonne and nod. She seems like exactly the sort of down-to-Earth person to keep Banner focused.

“That’s a mouthful! I feel like if my dad met you, he’d be asking you if your parents had a limited budget for letters when you were born,” you say as you sit in the chair Dr. Lyonne indicates.

“Ooh, I haven’t heard that one in six months!”

You’re pretty sure the tourniquet that Dr. Lyonne puts on after that is the regular tightness, but you hold very still and keep things polite, just in case.

Dr. Lyonne leaves you alone in that side room after the blood test for a half hour , explaining that they need to keep you and Steve separated as they come up with some proximity tests to perform. You get it: they want to gauge various reactions between the two of you, but the anxiety you feel about being shoved into yet another situation beyond your control is almost making you sick.

Finally, the door opens and Banner ushers you out and down the hall to a different room. There’s a second, smaller space inside it made up of transparent walls and a vinyl ‘roof’ thing above it, and Steve Rogers is standing in there.

“We’ve rigged the room with all kinds of monitors, and if you are okay with it, I’d like to put some heart monitors and such on you. Steve is already rigged up with a microphone in case I need to tell you two anything, but I won’t be able to hear anything the two of you say. Steve?” Banner calls out, turning around and making some gesture you can’t see. In response, Steve lifts his shirt, showing that he does indeed have a series of medical patches connected to wires placed in various places on his splendid chest.

“Dr. Banner, you’re contaminating our results!” Dr. Lyonne objects, shoving a file folder over to block your view. “I guarantee that her heart rate just went up.”

“Shit, I didn’t think of that. Uhh…”

Grabbing Banner’s lapel mic, Dr. Lyonne leans into it and says, “Banner and Rogers, cover your eyes!” She grabs the patches and comes over. With her help, you unbutton your blouse and the two of you place them in record time. Under her breath, the doctor mutters, “Blessed with two of the most ethical red-blooded men on the planet, thank fuck…”

Two minutes later you’re closing the door of the half-room-sized enclosure they’d constructed, standing closer to Steve Rogers than you’d been since you’d met, nearly three weeks ago.

“Hi,” he says, clearly the most awkward person in the building. It’s absurdly charming.

“Hi,” you whisper back.

You’re both holding a clipboard with a pencil, and Steve nods at the one in your hand. “We’re supposed to fill out our initial reactions.”

There are two chairs placed twelve feet away but facing each other. Instead of sitting down, you plant a foot on the closest one and brace the clipboard on your knee. The questions are… a bit much, asking what your arousal level is (which is not zero, but you try having a zero arousal level around a man who can fuck like that) , how calm you’ve been in the last week, last twenty-four hours, and last hour before coming in the lab, stuff like that. They only take a minute or two to fill out, and when you’re done, you realize that there’s a stack of questions underneath that seem to be directed toward some kind of escalation.

Just what are they about to ask the two of you to do??

“I think they should have fitted you with the earpiece,” Steve says. You straighten up to see that he’s walking to the middle of the room. “They want us to stand six feet apart. Bruce? I don’t want to tell her what to do, okay? That’s--” Steve breaks off and frowns. “Yeah, I understand that, but--” Another pause, and then he sighs. “Okay.” To you, in the most gentle voice you’ve ever heard, Steve says, “There’s no time to grab another one that will work. Please forgive me if anything I say sounds close to-- Inappropriate. I’m not ordering you around. You have every right to say no.”

“This is to help people who might get stuck in a similar situation, right?” you ask, dragging the chair over so you can stand the requested distance away without having to walk over to retrieve it for clipboard-steadying. He nods. “Then it’s worth a little discomfort.”

In truth, the questions on the clipboard are perceptive, because this is the most comfortable you’ve felt in weeks. There’s something calming, something wonderful about being close to Steve. It’s as if you’d been wound more and more tightly the past few weeks, and finally, finally, you can relax. You’re certain it’s related to the drug, and you’re a bit worried about how much of yourself you’re going to put on display when you’re forced to admit that.

The two of you stand looking anywhere but each other, and after a few minutes of darting your eyes over to Steve and back to the floor, he says, “Clipboard time.”

You’re glad to have something to focus on other than whether you should be stealing glances of Captain America-- but then you start writing down your answers to the questions.

How much has your arousal level risen since the previous series of questions? 5%

How much has your comfort level risen or fallen since the previous series of questions? Risen 10%

Privately, you feel like that one is going to have bad data, because what’s 10% of ‘almost as comfortable around another person as I could be, despite the entire circumstances of our acquaintance?’

Do you feel an urge or compulsion to engage in sexual activity? Not really?

“Bruce, these questions!” Steve chokes out. He listens for a few seconds, and then says to you, “He says, and I quote, ‘We’re flying by the seat of our pants, here.’ No kidding!” Nodding as though he’d just heard something else in his earpiece, he then says, “Banner’s asking us to stand a foot apart now. And Dr. Lyonne wants me to tell you they printed a bunch of cards, so there are way more than they need.”

You drag your chair again, nodding. Given that there are something like twenty pages in the stack, you’re mollified. A little. Shit. The arousal thing is… definitely happening. A thought occurs to you, and you’re pretty sure you have an obligation to mention it.

Double shit.

“All right, can Banner hear me at all?” you say cautiously, seeking the mental fortitude you’d mentioned to Bucky. At Steve’s negative response, you nod. “Ok, one more round and then maybe they’ll ask us to stand close enough for that.”

Steve swallows hard. Both of you will clearly have different answers to the next set of questions.

“A little closer,” he whispers to you. 

You startle slightly before moving toward him. It feels much closer than a foot, because there’s almost nowhere to look but Steve. He’s wearing jeans that fit him like a second skin, a tight gray tee, and an unbuttoned long-sleeve blue flannel, which feels distinctly unfair. Somehow he looks every bit as handsome wearing this casual get-up as he had the night before in his suit pants and blue jacket. 

“You, uh--” He sounds upset, and you glance up. “Bruce says we need to be looking more at each other than not,” Steve offers with a wince.

“Right. Twist my arm, right?” you joke.

His brows furrow. “If you’re--”

“Steve! You’re handsome as hell. Not a hardship, is my point,” you tell him.

“Ah,” he says in response, and oh. There’s a bit of joy there, not quite pride, but close. If you had to name it, you’d say Steve is deeply pleased, and yep, that’s a jump in arousal, there. “Right back at ya,” he says, almost too quiet to hear it.

“They’re going to have to burn those forms,” you muse aloud. “In fact, c’mere.” 

With a bravery borne out of guilt at ruining the findings, you walk right up to Steve and tug at his collar. He doesn’t resist, but he rests a hand on your bare lower arm. It feels as much of a comfort as a warning, and in the strangest way, it reinforces your need to call a halt to this farce.

“Bruce?” you say, lifting up to speak as closely to Steve’s earpiece as you can. Using Banner’s first name is deliberate, a hint at urgency you hope he’ll heed.

“He can hear you,” Steve murmurs. His mouth is close to your ear, and fuck, you’ve made a serious tactical mistake.

“Steve showed up to the restaurant last night,” you say as clearly as you can, given how fully immersed you are in everything Steve Rogers right now. He smells good, of soap and a hint of cologne or shaving cream, and he’s right there, gorgeous and obviously as affected as you are. His grip on your arm is just this side of painful, but you doubt he even realizes. “There’s--” you stop and clear your throat, because that one word was dangerously breathy. Steve’s clenched jaw and tightened grip sends your heart racing.

“The data is corrupted, she’s saying,” Steve breaks in. “Just mark down a hundred percent increase on everything and give us some privacy, will you?”

This is as much permission to push off and away from him as you need. It takes him a second to let go-- the look you exchange as he realizes this is electric.

“Bruce, do it.” The undercurrent of angry urgency in Steve’s tone has you scrambling at the door of your enclosure, and to hell with the clipboard and everything else.

You catch a glimpse of Banner and Lyonne leaving as you rush over to the window and press your overwarm hands to the glass, pulling in huge breaths like you’ve just run a marathon. Nearby footsteps on the tiled floor signal that Steve’s also left the quarantined testing zone.

“I’m--” You stop yourself. “I was going to say ‘I’m sorry,’ but I’m not. The data was already hopelessly corrupted.”

“Yeah,” he says.

“God, this is so screwed up. Do you know, this is the best I’ve felt in weeks?”

“You should be angry with me.”

“Why? Because I got confused, got lost in your apartment and put us in this position? Don’t be absurd.”

“I broke protocol,” Steve says in a hoarse voice. You turn around to see him shaking his head, his jaw set in a miserable line. “I was supposed to head to a quarantine room to get checked out. We get cleared and then we leave. Those rules are set up to prevent--”

You're not having it. “Does it help at all? To feel bad about it?”

“Does it help you to blame yourself?” Steve asks, walking forward, forcing you to listen by sheer command authority.

“Stop being a fucking leader, Steve, and just be a man, would you?” you snap, furious to incandescence that he’s drawing on his Cap persona at a time like this.

“Fine!” he thunders, and reaches out, catching your waist in one large hand as his momentum crashes the two of you into the wall by the window. You’re pinned there, both by his hips and his desperate expression, but Steve gathers the last scraps of his will, holding his hand up and away from where he’d been about to touch you, and fisting it. He closes his eyes tightly and says, “This isn’t me, I’m not--”

“So let’s figure out how to be ourselves and still live through this, yeah?” you say, moving to tug his fist over so you can kiss his knuckles. The raw contact is a pale shade of your previous ferocity under Mistress, but it’s still powerfully erotic. Steve lets out a tiny noise, but you don’t know him well enough to guess whether it’s a sound of distress or lust.

Then his eyes pop open and you suck in a breath at the intensity in his gaze. He’s nodding, turning the hand you’re clutching so he can slide it along your cheek and around to cup the back of your head.

“May I?” he breathes. He’s trembling. So are you.

“Please,” you whisper-- and Steve surges forward, tilting his head to capture your lips in an open-mouthed kiss. Everything about this moment is overwhelming, and you can do nothing but feel. You cling to his flannel, caught up in the exquisite sweetness of his kiss, the way he’s dominating you with his body but drawing you out and teasing you with his tongue. The tension of the past weeks melt away with the heat of Steve’s hand holding you still for him, each sizzling brush of his lips against yours burning through every question of propriety.

His other hand falls to your hips, gathering the fabric of your skirt in a needy fist like he needs more of an anchor than the touch of his lips against yours. The rock of Steve’s hips against you is ruinous, incendiary, delightful, destructive. Inside you, a furnace-dam breaks, unleashing a firestorm of pleasure that rushes straight to your core.

“Oh!” you gasp, breaking the kiss as you recognize what’s about to happen. “Oh, God, oh, thank God,” you babble, even as Steve sucks a frantic kiss to your neck. “Are you --?” you manage to ask.

His incoherent noises of assent against your neck sound just as broken and relieved as yours. You clutch at any part of Steve you can reach as he hitches your leg up to angle himself just right to rut against you. Remembering that he’d needed a personal connection last time, you coax him back into a deep, desperate kiss with a gentle caress through his hair.

Steve pulls back after a few seconds and presses his forehead against yours. Something inside you drags your eyes open, and as soon as you make eye contact, your orgasm sweeps through you, arching your back and drawing a low, satisfied moan from your throat.

“Yes,” Steve crows, and his hips thrust against you multiple times in rapid succession as he is taken by a release of his own. His free hand comes up to cup your face as he pants for breath, but it’s the way Steve holds your gaze through it all that completely strips your soul bare.

Next chapter...

[nerdieforpedro]

20 Questions of Writers 📑

I was tagged by @frenchiereading @avastrasposts and @maggiemayhemnj (Bless the three of you. You know a dissertation is coming 🤣🤣🤣) 💜

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

I have 81 works on AO3. There are some that are there and not on Tumblr yet. As to why, some of them are other series I haven’t finished or I’m not sure if I should post them here.

2. What is your total AO3 word count?

As of today: 351,908 words (updated for a new chapter of one of my works)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently: Pedro Pascal, Oscar Issac, Garrett Hedlund and might dabble in Call of Duty (maybe)

No longer writing: Marvel

4. Top Five fics by kudos: (some of these were written long ago, when Nerdie was a wee one in fandom)

Sard’ika Sessions (the most in kudos and hits- it tells me ya’ll like Din being a soft dom and using several different tools, maybe at the same time?)

Our Journey Across the Star Ocean (people enjoy the way I write Din maybe?)

The Viper Longs for Foliage (the one fic I have about Oberyn Martell - I don’t feel I write him well but people feel differently I suppose 🤔)

The Best and the Worst Day (AO3 only - Chris Evans fix it was a phase 🫣)

I want him to see me (AO3 only - I had to look up what this was lol Sebastian Stan fic)

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes! I make sure to go through my inbox to reply to anyone who was nice enough to leave me one. ☺️

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Bold of you to assume I finish fics regularly 👀

Scarlet Stains and their Echoes Such angst with a Backstreet Boys joke thrown in. 😆

7. What is the fic you wrote that has the happiest ending?

This is a three way tie (cheating because Nerdie is not above it) between Sard’ika Sessions, The Lake Between Us and Parts of you Mr. Morales. Each fic has a different Pedro character - Din, Ezra (I had to give him something happy 😭) and Frankie.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not that I’ve seen. I totally thought I would and that’s why something stay on AO3 or in the WIP folder but so far I have not. It’s like waiting for the other shoe to drop.

9. Do you write smut?

I used to. I used to write a lot and enjoyed it. I find now that when I write smut it’s awkward and takes me at least a month to finish a smut scene because despite watching and reading reference materials (porn and other awesome smut fanfic here and on AO3) I don’t have the same mojo when writing it any more. I feel a bit sad about it, but there’s nothing that’s worked. It’s not like I don’t have thots. I just can’t get them in a fic. 😭😭

10. Craziest Crossover?

I haven’t really done many. One m/m fic where Din and Poe crossed blasters (pun fully intended), one sandwich with a female reader, Lucian Flores and Benny Miller, My Tim Rockford series where Dieter is his brother and that’s about it I think 🧐

11. Have you ever have a fic stolen? Not that I know of. So happy I’m in my small weird little box 📦

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Not that I know of.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic? Nope I would be open to it but I dunno how the process would work.

14. All time favorite ship? The Razor Crest, it has room for passengers. 😆

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Such heart ache 😣 My first series that I started was with Dave York (he was done so dirty dammit!) and it was pretty smut filled. Felt with him and the OFC’s messed up dynamic as well but because of all the smut and how I can’t seem to write smut to save my neck now, it will likely go unfinished. 😭

16. What are your writing strengths?

Honestly, I’m not sure. Maybe just the weird plot ideas I can make and dialogue. That’s about it.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Finishing a fic, SMUT, weak comedy (I can’t resist it though), fixating on small details that don’t matter and everything that wasn’t listed as a strength. What is writing really? Can I make the words go together? 😨

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

Pretty cool, just make sure you ask a native speaker in that language to look over things before posting. I have found that some of my Spanish is too literal and no native Spanish speaker is actually going to say that. Plus each language always has little nuances you need to take into account.

19. First Fandom you wrote in? Marvel 👀 Look it was a phase dammit! 🫣 Leave me alone. 😭

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Nerdie will cheat again, because this is her post! 😆 I enjoy all my fics. Otherwise, why would I write them? But one stands above the rest. It gives me all the feels, giggles, some funny banter, smut that took a damn month to write and inspired @soft-persephone to tag me in a meme that @boliv-jenta made, Weddings 101 with Dieter.

If there’s one fic that I feel has the majority of my writing (all styles and facets) in it, Weddings 101 would be it. My humor, agnst, attempt at making a villain and sub-plots, slow burn romance with a goat as Dieter’s ride or die. 🤗 That trash panda gave me a lot so I wrote him a wild ass series. 😋

NPT: @tinytinymenace @megamindsecretlair @perotovar @pedroshotwifey @lady-bess

@djarinmuse @alltheglitterandtheroar @inept-the-magnificent @lotusbxtch

@jeewrites @rosecentaur1916 @westside-rot @jessthebaker @trulybetty

@rhoorl @musings-of-a-rose @saturn-rings-writes @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @magpiepills

@secretelephanttattoo @morallyinept @goodwithcheese

[jeankluv]

Snow on the beach || Trafalgar Law x fem!reader

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: fluff, doflamingo, angst but light and fluff

Note: thank you to everyone who is starting to read this story and the rest of my one shots, I truly appreciate your sweet comments. By the way if anyone wants me to tag them when I post this story please let me know and I will start tagging you. Now enjoy this chapter.

Previous chapter || Materialist || Next chapter

Chapter VI: You are my safe place

Law huffed at his office table. He had arrived earlier than his schedule, but all in order to avoid you. It wasn't that he didn't want to see you, he really wanted to see you and share moments with you, even if they were those in the car where you were singing a Taylor Swift song at the top of your lungs. But since last week when he had to go out of town to see the person he hated most in the world and meet him, he knew that having you around wasn't safe for you. He knew that you were stubborn and that you probably wouldn't give up so easily and would return home sooner or later, so leaving the house before you had been the best option he had seen to avoid talking to you again.

He had an idea of ​​who the person had been who had warned him, not for nothing did he try to get information from you the only time you met. Law leaned back in his seat and rubbed his temple. Years ago he and Corazon had distanced themselves from the family, they had gone to a quiet town, away from everything, away from him. But once again Doflamingo, he had to annoy them.

When Law talked to him on the phone, he actually considered telling Corazon the truth, telling him that his brother had called and that he was up to no good. But instead Law decided to tell him that Penguin and Shachi had been in an accident and he was going to see them for a week.

So yes, he went to meet Doflamingo to see what he wanted. The meeting was really short and unpleasant for Law but the worst thing was knowing that Doflamingo knew about you and that you lived next door. His skin crawled when your name came out of Doflamingo's lips, at that moment he felt like beating him up right there. Doflamingo began to talk about how they both seemed very happy in that town, that Law was paid well and how Corazon seemed very happy as a police officer, all this with the most cynical smile on his face. It was when Doflamingo finally told him what he wanted, money, as always. He said that if he didn’t get the amount he was asking him he would take action on the matter. Law agreed to give him, he wanted to keep both of you saved. But he knew he should be cautious since Monet knew who you were and she was on constant communication with him. He needed to find a way to fire her.

He sighed heavily and hit the table, couldn't he just leave them alone for once? Two knocks were heard on the door, Law wrinkled his eyebrows, it was still early for any patient to arrive for consultation.

“C’mon in.” He said sitting properly and putting on glasses. “What are you doing here?” He said once he saw who was the one knocking.

“Law…” You said swallowing. “I came here because…”

“I told you already that I didn’t want to see you again, didn’t I?” Law said and turned to look at his computer.

“You actually said you weren’t going to take me from the restaurant to my house, nothing about not seeing each other.” You said sitting on the chair.

“Y/n I’m not joking here, leave.”

You shook your head. “No.” He gave you a withering look and you just smiled at him. “Actually… I feel a bit sick. You’re a doctor so… please doctor could you check me?”

“Y/n… you know I can tell when you lie right?”

“Ah!” You cried out, you ain’t leaving that room until you were able to talk properly with Law. “Doctor please.” You pouted.

He sighed. “Where does it hurt?”

You smiled. “Here.” You pointed to your left knee.

He stood up and kneel in front of you. “Can you put your pants up so I can check your knee better?” He said while looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

“I…”

Shit y/n. You couldn’t really put them up, they were too tight, but when I asked you where it hurt, you only thought of saying the knee because it was true that it had been hurting for a few weeks.

“I don’t think I can do that.” You told him.

“Well then take them off.” Your whole face turned red in that instant.

“Wait… what?”

“Is for the examination y/n.”

“Of course, sure, yeah, hahaha” You laughed nervously.

“Listen, if you don’t feel comfortable, I can get something for you to cover up.” He said standing back up.

“Yeah… that would be okay.”

He nodded and left the room, leaving you there waiting. After your talk with Nami the day before, you had decided that you were going to get an explanation for Law's behavior. And you knew Law was doing his best to ignore you and not see you. You took off your jacket, waited there looking around at his office. You noticed a picture of him with Bepo on the wall, you smiled noticing how Bepo was still a puppy in that picture.

“Law you back?” You said turning around when you heard the door opening. But it was not Law who was in the door, it was the nurse from the other day, the one with the green hair. “Oh hello.”

“Where is Dr. Trafalgar?” She spoke.

“He went to…”

“Honestly I don’t care.” She replied. “I’m here to talk with you.” She sat next to you. “You should stay away from him, you know? Or the boss will have a good reason to make Law his little puppet again. And you probably don’t want that, right?”

“Excuse me… I don’t know what you are talking about…”

“It’s okay you will probably meet him if you keep yourself around him. This is from one girl to another, stay away from him.” You looked away, she was scaring you. Who the fuck was the boss and what did she mean with Law being a puppet?

She left without saying anything else. You were left there without knowing what to say or what to do. You don’t know how much time passed or when the door was once again open but when you came back, Law was in front of you, looking at you with an intense and worried look.

“You okay?” He said. “You are pale…” He said and touched your face. You knew he was probably checking your temperature but that didn’t stop you from turning red and moving your face away from his hand.

“Actually… I think I will leave.” You said standing and turning around to grab your things. “I have to go to work or else Zeff will get mad.” You tried to joke.

“Y/n, something happened right?” He said standing in front of you. “Did someone come here?”

“No.” You said, maybe a little too fast.

He examined your face, he knew you were lying and you knew he knew. “I already told you, you can lie but I will know.”

You looked down trying to avoid his gaze and thinking how to ask the question that was on the tip of your tongue. “Law…” You paused for a moment. “Are you… in danger?” You finally said.

You couldn’t see his face but you saw how his hands closed when you asked that question.

“Don’t worry about me… okay?”

You frowned and looked at him. “How could I not? You can not pretend like I don’t care about you, like I can ignore that someone is threatening you.”

“I have been dealing with this shit all my life, you don’t have to worry but I want you to stay away from me.”

“I can’t do that…”

“Y/n…”

“No Law, you can not ask me that. I want to help you.” You swallowed. “Corazon could help you, he is a police officer, I’m pretty sure he can…”

“Don’t… please y/n stay away from this, from me.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re so fucking stubborn aren’t you?”

“You know I am. And I’m not going to let you deal with this on your own.”

“I told you I have been dealing with…”

“Doesn’t mean you have to keep dealing with it alone.” You cut him off, never once leaving his gaze.

He huffed and leaned against the wall behind him, his eyes closed. He massaged his temple, you really were stubborn and seemed to not care about anything he told you, you were willing to continue with him.

“Why y/n? Why do you want to risk yourself for me?” He said looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Because…” You thought of the reason, deep inside of you, you knew why you were doing that, but would you be able to put it out? “I… I care about you and you make me feel like I’m myself again whenever I’m with you, it's like I don’t have to pretend to be someone else when I’m by your side. You are… you are my safe space.” You let everything out, in a rush but it was out. “And I don’t want to lose that.” You added looking at him.

You watched him breathe heavily, but without saying any words. His mouth was slightly open and his eyes moved around looking at your entire face. He opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, trying to say something but saying nothing. You didn't think that your confession would leave him speechless and a part of you was regretting having said it. Law swallowed hard, you could see how his Adam's apple moved.

“Y/n…”

“Oi Trafalgar.” The door opened completely, revealing a blonde man with glasses and dressed just like Law. “Oh! I’m interrupting something?” He looked at you both.

“Marco…” Law moved to place him near the man, whose name now you knew it was Marco. “Nothing to worry about, my patient was already going home.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m leaving.” You said and walked to the door. “Thank you for looking at my knee doctor. I will take care of it.” You lied and turned around saying goodbye to both of them.

You quickly left the place, out of the corner of your eye you could see the same girl who had come in to tell you that about Law. You didn't want to stop being with Law, you wanted to continue sharing your trips in the forest, bother him with jokes, make him let you sing at the top of your lungs, see the stars with him again. And yes, with him you felt like you were back to being that girl that you thought had disappeared a long time ago. With the rest of the band you also felt good but with Law it was different. As you felt the cold air hit your face, you blew on your hands to warm up. You really wanted to be able to support Law, in some way. But like that girl, Zoro had also told you to be careful with Law, with the people around him. Was that “boss” so dangerous? So much so that you had to get away from him and Law couldn't do anything about it?

On the other hand, Law was reading the report that Marco had brought him. He was really trying to concentrate but he couldn't stop thinking about you, your words and the strange feeling you had caused in him.

“Earth calling to Law, come back to us please.” He heard Marco’s voice.

“Eh… I think it’s…”

“I think you’re somewhere else.” Marco smiled. “That girl, is the new girl that came here some weeks ago right?”

“Yeah, she is.”

Marco smirked. “You seemed to have an interesting conversation going on.”

“What…? We were… we were discussing some medical stuff, that’s it.” Law shook his head, trying not to seem nervous.

Marco laughed. “Please Law, I have known you long enough to see that what you were having wasn’t a patient doctor conversation.”

“Shut up.” Law rolled his eyes.

“Whatever you say lover boy.” Marco stood up and walked to the door, leaving Law alone.

Law leaned back in his chair, thinking again about your words and what he could do to fix this shit. Because one thing that he was clear about was that he did not want you to end up in this mess in any way, for Donflamingo to get close to you. But what could he do? That man pulled the strings in the underworld, he had contacts with the police, who looked the other way when he wanted to do some of his shit.

When he and Corazon came to live here thirteen years ago, everything had been normal. Corazon got a good job as a police officer in the town and he started going to school and making friends. Everything was phenomenal, until Law left to study medicine, that was when he met Donflamingo again and from then on Donflamingo would occasionally ask him for money, with the condition of leaving Corazon alone and letting him live his life in a peaceful way.

Law took off his glasses and growled frustrated with the whole situation, no matter where he looked at it it was a maze with no exit. He got up from his chair and left his office. He didn't have any patients for another hour so he could go talk to Monet and tell her to leave you alone already. He saw her at the reception, with her glasses on, reading.

“Monet.” He called her.

She looked up and gave him a fake smile. “Good morning, Dr. Trafalgar. You came earlier today.”

“Cut that shit Monet.” Law cut her. “Listen, I know what you are up to and you better stay away from y/n. She has nothing to do with any of the shit you and the whole gang are in. So leave her alone and don’t approach her.”

Monet rolled his eyes. “My goodness Law, are you so taken with her? You already know that I only inform the boss about how you are, he cares about you.” Law snorted. “And it's good that the boss knows that you have a crush on a girl from the town, maybe one day he will even come and pay you a visit. “At the end of the day I miss her little brother.”

“The brother he tried to kill? Yeah don’t make me laugh, that man doesn’t care for anything other than money and power.”

“He deserved it, he betrayed the family.” Law narrowed his eyes. “It’s frustrating isn’t it? You can not do anything to get rid of me and besides Law, you will always be part of his family, no matter how much you try to get away or how much you try to protect Corazon. He will always find a way to find you.”

Law turned away from the counter in frustration and without saying anything returned to his office. And it was true, no matter how much he and Corazon tried to escape from that family, they would always find them and if they wanted to harm or harm them, Doflamingo would not hesitate to do so. During the rest of the day he dedicated himself to seeing patients, in the office and on the phone. When he realized it, the sun had already set and the streetlights were illuminating the streets. He stretched out in his chair and picked up everything to leave. He wanted to go home and rest his mind, even if it was just for a few hours.

He said goodbye to Marco and the nurses there and got into his car. He started the car and prepared to go home, but he didn't. For some reason, one that he knew very well, he parked in front of the restaurant. He sighed and looked out the window, there you were. You were wearing a high ponytail, but some of your locks fell in front of your face, and you had a smile on your face as you served the few clients you had that day. He grabbed his phone and connected it to the car, he opened Spotify, an app that for him was practically non-existent before you appeared in his life. He didn't listen to music so he didn't need a music app, right? And to no one's surprise, Taylor Swift was the artist who appeared to continue listening. He pressed play and smiled unconsciously when he remembered how excited she was to sing each lyric of the songs when he took you home.

An hour passed as he watched you say goodbye to Zeff and Sanji. Law got out of the car and leaned against it, waiting for you. He really was a hypocrite, after treating you terribly a few days ago, telling you on more than one occasion that you shouldn't be close, there he was.

When you walked down the small stairs at the entrance and looked up, you felt your heart skip a beat. He was standing there, looking at you and not looking away from you for a second. Waiting for you after work and looking at you with eyes that you couldn't describe or decipher. You approached him, shivering, was it because of the cold or because of what happened that morning? You had practically confessed to him and now you were seeing each other again after that.

“Law… What are you doing here?” You stood in front of him.

“I… I came for you.” He said and you nodded.

“About this morning…” You started to talk but he cut you out.

“Get in the car, you’re trembling.” He said and opened the door for you. You thanked him and got in the car. “You need to buy new clothes, warmer clothes.”

“Yeah… you told me that, remember?” He nodded and started driving back home. “Law about what I said this morning…”

“Once we arrive, let me check your knee.” He once again cut you off, was he evading the topic?

“Are you evading the conversation we had this morning?”

He shook his head. “I’m not, but… I told you, it’s complicated and… I don’t want to put you through something you don’t deserve.”

“I understand… but I want you to know that you have me.” He nodded and you saw the small smile on his face. “And about you being my safe place, listen, you can igno…”

“You also make me want to be myself when I’m with you y/n.” A small oh escaped your lips and you could feel your cheeks redden. “You’re cute peachie.” He whispered.

“Shut up Law.” You turned around, covering yourself. This was embarrassing.

“Oh…” You heard Law say.

“What?” You looked at him.

“It seems like it’s starting to snow.”

You looked ahead and could see how small snowflakes fell on the car window. You smiled. “It really is.” You whispered.

Law smiled when he realized how dazzling your eyes were just seeing the small snowflakes on the window. He was so hooked for you and there was no going back.

Tag list: @phsycochan {comment below if you want to be added to the tag list}

[nczaversnick]

Mega OC Questionnaire

Got this tag from @the-golden-comet

Wasn’t sure who should answer this but I realized I haven’t done much with Caspian so here we go

Five things that make you happy:

“Oh five things? I guess Adrian, Faith of course. I like helping people and fighting with the rebels. Oh! I love ramen too.”

If you could save just one other person who would it be?

*cue Caspian strangling N.C. with his bare hands* Sorry guys this one is major spoilers

Tell us one of your funniest jokes:

“Oh cmon I’m not the funny one in his group. Most I can do is tease Audrey about her affairs with senior staff”

Where would you like to visit?

“If Quinn ever finds their people, I’d love to visit them. Utristan is great and all but I want to see what else is out there.”

When do you usually go to sleep?

“When I was a student, I went to sleep when I was done working. Nowadays I don’t go to sleep until Adrian comes back from his recon missions”

Are you a jealous person?

“I….dont want to answer this”

Have you committed a crime?

“Kinda hard not to when the system is designed to arrest you.”

Do you have a chore you usually hate?

“I mean nobody loves chores. But almost all the work I do is in my proffered field so it’s not really a chore…. But I hate practicing with firearms. It’s brings up unpleasant memories.”

Tell me an embarrassing childhood story

Athena: “Hell I’ll tell you an embarrassing story about him. When we were kids he once kidnapped a baby chick from the class project. He said he didn’t want it to live somewhere without air conditioning”

Are you a good person?

“I mean, I think so? Adrian once said that he looks up to me because of how kind I am but…I think he’s exaggerating”

“When have I ever exaggerated?”

What’s the worst thing you have ever done? Do you regret it?

“Of course I do. But it doesn’t matter now. All I can do is do everything I can not to be in that position again.”

What’s the quickest way to make you laugh?

“When Adrian asks about multi syllabic words. I know he’s still learning and I know it comes off mean but it’s so cute… I just can’t help it.”

What is your favorite song right now?

“Achilles Come Down”

Do you sometimes wish to be someone else?

“Only in the sense that I know I am not my best possible self. Tomorrow might be different.”

Do you push forward or take time to rest?

“Oh I’ve always been a push forward guy. But meeting Adrian changed that. That guy never stops moving and it’s hard to ignore it when you’ve seen what it looks like.”

What is your favorite drink?

“I’ve always been a big fan of green tea.”

If you had to pick an item of clothing or accessory to wear for the rest of your life what would it be?

“I’m legally required to say my wedding band.”

If you were forced to forget one memory, what would you choose?

“As if you really need to ask. I’d forget the day he died.”

What is a positive thing your worst enemy would say about you?

“Knowing Lucia she’d call me good bait. She really only cares about putting Adrian down and he’d do anything to save me.”

Tags for writing games (comment to be -\+)

@honeybewrites @wyked-ao3 @kittrrrr @zackprincebooks @theverumproject @fractured-shield @poppycat-writes @illarian-rambling @finickyfelix @kuebiko-writing @yourpenpaldee @willtheweaver @the-letterbox-archives @moltenwrites @davycoquette @drchenquill @leahnardo-da-veggie +open tag

[hughesmedicine]

rockstar 2| l. hughes

luke hughes x !lynch reader

one

ynlynch

liked by dylanduke25, edwards.73, rydelfunk and others.

ynlynch: he begged for a song🤭

load more comments..

ynsbestfriend: HE BEGGED??

| lhughes_06: she’s lying, I didn’t beg

| dylanduke25: y/n never lies so

| lhughes_06: I swear she can get away with anything cause of you.

| dylanduke25: yeah cause she didn’t do it?

| ynlynch: knew there was a good reason to keep duker around, love you bestie

| dylanduke25: love you more!

| lhughes_06: she’s not innocent but okay

| dylanduke25: yeah okay, I’ve never seen her do anything wrong

jackhughes: are you guys matching in the last picture??

| ynlynch: are we?

| jackhughes: im starting to not like you again but matching outfits are a no go🫡

| ynlynch: good but if you used your eyes you can tell and shut up.

| jackhughes: hostile and for what?

| ynlynch: many reasons to be hostile when it comes to you.

| jackhughes: okay rude.

ross_lynch: do we finally get to meet him??

| rockylynch: ^

| ynlynch: yes tonight at his hockey game!

ross_lynch: forgot you were dragging us to that

| ynlynch: dragging?? More like you wanted to go and you even bought a jersey with dukers last name on it🫡

| ross_lynch: he’s my favorite so what do you expect me to do???

| edwards.73: I think someone needs to check on duker

| lhughes_06: already on it

| ynlynch: he’s gonna pass out again when he sees me above him lmao

| jackhughes: that’s my worst nightmare

| ynlynch: now I know how to scare you, watch your back rowden

| jackhughes: im not coming to the lake house this summer.

| ynlynch: that’s okay, luke told me where you live and coincidentally that’s where one of our tour dates is

| jackhughes: im moving away.

| rockylynch: wise decision

lhughes_06

liked by ynlynch, rydelfunk, rutgermcgroarty and others.

lhughes_06: saw my girl play right after we won and it was the best way to end the night, so proud of you and your brothers!

tagged: ynlynch, ross_lynch and rockylynch

load more comments..

jackhughes: im so proud of you both for doing amazing tonight!

| ynlynch: Jack being nice???

| jackhughes: gosh I can’t tolerate you anymore.

| ynlynch: there’s the jack I know and love very much, thank you rowden<3

| lhughes_06: thanks bro!

_quinnhughes: I guess since Jack took over the nice role,I get to take over the mean/joking role

| ynlynch: please stick to just being nice..

| _quinnhughes: what’s that supposed to mean??

| ynlynch: if you used your context clues, you could figure it out easily

| _quinnhughes: oh I walked myself into this one.

| jackhughes: welcome to my world

| _quinnhughes: you can take it back, I don’t want it.

dylanduke25: im still in shocked that we saw you guys in concert.

| rutgermcgroarty: no same it doesn’t feel real.

| nolan_moyle: rutgers a fan???

| ynlynch: you didn’t know?? This man talks highly of me to every stranger he meets and he begs for teasers every week😭

| rutgermcgroarty: can you blame me?? Got the best mom out here

| ynlynch: #1 mom right here🫶🏻

| adamfantilli: he is right about the best mom

| ynlynch: you guys are gonna make me cry.

| rutgermcgroarty: group hug in lukes room

| lhughes_06: do not.

| rutgermcgroarty: too late we’re already on our way, thanks for the invite!

rockylynch: thanks for bringing us to the game y/n! I enjoyed it but I’ve never seen ross so hype before

| ross_lynch: thanks for coming to the show! It was fun having you guys there too and thanks luke

| ynlynch: you have to come to hockey games with ross and I more! He goes all out

| rockylynch: I’m coming to more then

| dylanduke25: can I join on this outing??

| ross_lynch: yes!

| ynlynch: gosh you answered fast😭

| ross_lynch: told you favorite player.

trevorzegeras: congrats to you both! also y/n it was fun seeing you perform!

| ynlynch: YOU WERE THERE???

| trevorzegras: no but I wish, luke facetimed me in the middle of it cause I asked him too

| ynlynch: you’re coming to the next one.

| trevorzegras: im actually coming to the jersey show, have a game there that day

| ynlynch: ahhh I can’t wait, bring jamie!!

| jamie.drysdale: im coming either way!! I’ve been waiting to see you perform for awhile!

| trevorzegras: he won’t admit it but he’s been a fan since the beginning

| ynlynch: stop jamie I love you

| jamie.drysdale: love you more y/n/n!

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Eyes and Ears

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: An AU where Barbara finds Jason instead of Bruce.

Chapters: 11/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Barbara Gordon, Jim Gordon, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Sheila Haywood, Original Character(s)

Relationship(s): Jason Todd/Original Character(s), Past Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Older SIbling Barbara Gordon, Jason Todd-centric, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Jason Todd is NOT Robin, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd Has a Crush, Adopted Siblings

Chapter Eleven: Triggers

As the months went on and Jason progressed in therapy, he started to sleep better. During this time, his training sessions with Barbara became more vigorous, and Barbara's faith in him often left her conflicted. She knew he deserved her trust, and she knew he was strong-willed and physically capable. She just wasn't willing to let him risk his life.

As they neared the first anniversary of his coming to live with them, she decided she had to give him a sign that she trusted him. He earned it. Jason did everything that was expected of him. He took every hit and read every book assigned to him with enthusiasm.

"Barbara, that supercomputer thing we're building—."

"Oracle," Barbara explained. Jason nodded as he fiddled with his anti-static bracelet. "And yeah?"

"Well, you said I'm too young to go on patrol with you. What if I stayed behind, and I helped you from behind a screen? What if I was your—?"

"Oracle?" Barbara asked. Jason bounced his head from side to side.

"Well, no. I'm not a girl. There's this guy in Greek mythology, Tiresias—."

"He was technically a woman for seven years," Barbara interrupted a second time, and Jason crossed his arms.

"Okay... Can I please finish?" Jason asked. Barbara covered up a grin and nodded. "He was a seer and could understand birds. I was thinking maybe I could run Oracle's pilot program... Please." Barbara took a deep breath. "Babs, please. You're leaving me. The least you can do is let me help you," Jason pleaded.

Barbara softened and took his bracelet off. "Come here," Barbara teared up as she embraced him, "I was gonna surprise you by letting you run the pilot program, but you didn't have to make me cry. You're the worst, you know that? I was gonna invite you to have dinner there sometimes and everything."

"You can't cook," Jason laughed through his tears as he started to cry as well.

"I was gonna order takeout," she replied as she pulled away and punched him in the shoulder. He laughed and wiped his tears away. "And I'm not leaving you. Dad's probably gonna make you stay the night at my apartment when he works nights which is almost all the time," Barbara explained.

"When are you gonna tell him?" Jason asked. Barbara shrugged.

"Did you hear what I told you?" Barbara asked. Jason blinked hard before embracing Barbara a second time, nearly knocking her over as he thanked her. "Easy," she laughed.

Jim came in the front door and greeted them in Barbara's doorway. "I'm just stopping in to grab my jacket, but it's looking like I'll be in the office late tonight. Saturday night in Gotham. You kids okay?" Jim asked. They both nodded.

Once Jim was gone, Barbara nudged Jason. "Test run tonight after dinner?" Barbara asked. A smile spread across Jason's face. "Also, what are we having for dinner, Bub?"

"We could order a pie?" Jason suggested. Barbara groaned. "What do you wanna eat then?"

"Burger and fries?" Barbara suggested. Jason made a face. "BBQ?"

"BBQ it is," Jason agreed.

They ordered dinner, and Jason lay on his back on her floor. Barbara lay next to him and stared at the ceiling. "How's therapy? I mean, do you like going?" Barbara asked.

"Yeah, I like Alisa... She's nice, and she lets me curse in sessions," Jason replied. Barbara chuckled.

"I'll give you a freebie since Dad isn't here. Give me your best potty mouth," she laughed.

"Fuck no," Jason joked. Barbara let out a screaming laugh. "It's not that funny," Jason covered his smile.

Barbara pinched his cheek. "It's just—. The way you said it," Barbara chuckled. Jason turned on his side towards her.

"I don't want things to change, Babs," Jason mumbled, "I want you to stay here. Just put it off a while longer."

"Jason, I'm not even gonna move that—."

"Please. I know it sounds stupid, but I really don't want you to go. Besides, it's not even set in stone yet. You haven't told Pop or anything," Jason pleaded. Barbara pushed his face aside playfully.

"Don't get all mushy on me, Jason," her voice revealed a hint of sadness. Jason got up and threw a pillow at her angrily, and slammed her door on the way out. "Jason, what did I—?" She opened her door and watched as Jason grabbed his jacket. "Where are you going?"

"Out," Jason grumbled as he shut the door on his way out.

She plopped down on the couch and pushed a hand through her hair. She waited a few hours for Jason to return, and when he didn't, she called Jim. "Dad?" Barbara asked.

"Hey, he's here. He came in an hour ago... What happened?" Jim asked.

Barbara stood up and paced back and forth. "Was he upset?" Barbara asked.

"Yelling and crying... But he tired himself out. What's wrong?" Jim asked. Barbara curled up on the couch and turned the tv on.

"Where else did he go? He's been gone four hours," Barbara thought to herself. "Dad, do you want me to come and get him?"

"No, it's okay. I'd rather know what happened," Jim replied.

Barbara sighed. "I was thinking about moving out. When he asked me to stay, I laughed at him. I didn't know it meant so much to him... But if it does, I won't—."

"You were planning on moving out?" Jim asked.

"Planning. I'm not going to if it's gonna be this big of an issue right now. I can put it off. Besides, it's not like I picked out a place or anything. It was just a thought," Barbara replied.

Jim sucked his teeth over the phone and sighed. "We'll talk about it later... But for now, Jason can sleep here in my office. I'm not mad," Jim whispered.

Once she hung up, she groaned and cursed. She didn't go out that night. All she could do is lie on the couch and wait for Jason and Jim to come home. She drifted off to sleep, only to wake to the sound of the door opening. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Jason, I'm sorry—."

He stormed past her and went straight to his room. She pushed a hand through her hair before getting up and following him. "Jason, let me—."

Jason swung his door open. "What?" Jason asked.

"Jason, I'm not gonna go anywhere. Okay? I love you, and I'm not leaving you. If you want me to stay here a little while longer, I will," Barbara reassured him, "But you have to tell me one thing. Where did you go before you went to Dad's office?"

"Nowhere—."

"Jason, where did you go?" her voice stern as she blocked him from leaving the conversation. Jason tried to shut the door in her face. "No. You were gone for four hours. What did you do for the other three?"

"None of your business," Jason whispered through clenched teeth. Barbara gestured for them to talk in his room, and she closed the door behind her.

"Jason, I get that whatever I did made you angry, but I have to know where you went—."

"I was with Bruce Wayne," Jason answered.

"Funny. Now, where were you?" Barbara asked. Jason rolled his eyes and plopped down on his bed.

"I was with Bruce Wayne, Barbara," Jason answered, "Bruce."

"Why were you with Bruce Wayne?" she asked, a little confused.

"I was at the cemetery with Bruce Wayne," Jason elaborated. He cocked his head and looked at her.

"I don't—." Jason lay back on his bed and pulled his pillow over his face. "Jason."

"Get out of my room," Jason replied.

"Wh—? I don't—."

"You and me, we're a team, right? You stood there, and you lied to my face despite knowing that I know now... It's one thing not to tell me, but it's another thing to lie to my face," Jason whispered. His face reddened as he spoke, and he took a deep breath. "You're no better than everyone else that's ever hurt me. You can have a secret. You can have tons of secrets. I don't care about any of it, but you just lied. What else do you lie about, Barbara?" Jason asked.

"Jason, I'm s—."

"Get out of my room," Jason mumbled. Barbara nodded and left the room.

Barbara slammed his door on her way out, and Jim poured himself a cup of coffee. "Well, did you apologize?" Jim asked.

"No, he didn't let me say anything," Barbara replied angrily.

"Give him his space for right now—."

"You're taking his side?" Barbara asked.

"No, I'm just saying that he's working through a lot, and if he's too mad to talk, we can't make him," Jim answered.

"But I bet he's talking to you," Barbara replied. Jim shrugged.

"He's not mad at me," Jim sipped his coffee. Barbara glared at him.

[narcolini]

open wounds

frank castle x gn!reader, ex dating, hurt/comfort, 2404 words

for day 6 of whumpril : salve | painkillers | bad coping mechanisms

warnings for burns, implied suicidal intentions, terrible first aid probably

a/n: yknow when you love a character so much that you dont even know where to start with writing about them?? no?? just me?? im shaking in my boots... also huge shout out to @ashlingiswriting for helping with this!!

tagging: @drabbles-mc @hausofmamadas @cositapreciosa @cositapreciosa @cositapreciosa @cositapreciosa @cositapreciosa​ (five times as requested)

He’s dripping wet. Frank, back at your door, for the first time in half a year, and dripping wet from head to toe. His jeans, his hoody, his boots—which must weigh a tonne, if they’re as full of water as the rest of him. He’s scrubbed his face dry, clearly, because the front of his hair is sticking upright, brushed up by the rough of his fingertips, and his cheeks are cleaner than the rest of him. Bare of the grime he’s covered in. If it wasn’t so obviously a bad thing—him being here, him being anything other than his usual self—you might’ve laughed. Might’ve joked about him choosing the worst church for an over-due baptism.

‘What the fuck happened?’ you scoff, bypassing all other greetings. You don’t even spare the thought to be annoyed at him, to tell him to go away, get out of here, before someone sees you. You just balk, and frown, and hang off the door as you look him over. ‘You look like you went free-diving in the river, Frank.’

He doesn’t respond, just sighs and tilts his head as if to say—

‘Oh my God.’ He did. He jumped into the fucking river. ‘That explains the stink, then.’

‘Yup.’

It’s pouring off him. Stale water, oil spill.

‘Look, I gotta ask you a favour,’ he says, awkward about it, though you’d thought as much already. ‘I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have to be.’

And you wouldn’t let him in, either, if you didn’t have to.

‘Come in.’ The less time he spends in the corridor, the better. ‘Do I even want to know what you…’ The words fizzle out once you’re behind him, door closed and facing his back.

The material of his hoody has been singed away, not entirely, but across his shoulders and in patches down his spine, the t-shirt beneath in a similar state. He’d been set alight, somehow, long enough for it to burn all the way through. Two layers of cloth and then skin. Red, raw, skin.

‘Jesus, Frank.’

‘Had to put it out somehow,’ he shrugs, ‘seemed like the quickest option.’

‘Do you even realise how much shit is in that river?’

But he must do, of course, because he’s here. He’s not at home, self-medicating, slapping soap and water on it and hoping for the best. He’s here because he’s smart enough to realise bacteria will kill him easier and faster than any bullet would. Which isn’t usual, for most, but he has a knack for surviving no matter how many holes they put in him.

‘Bathroom, please,’ you tell him. You remember where it is.

You watch him nod in front of you, hands tucked in the sodden pockets of his hoody. He’s holding himself rigid—tense arms, straight shoulders—to hide the shakes, you realise. The wet has gotten into the bones, chilled him deep enough to send shivers through the muscles. Why he’s bothering to try and cover it, you don’t know. You’ve seen him in worse shapes.

When he reaches the bathroom, you in tow, he turns and waits. In front of you, on the curling blue bath matt beneath. It’s been a long time since you’d done him a favour. A long time, since you’d been alone with him, for reasons other than why this doesn’t work, why the two of you won’t work.

You sigh, close your eyes. He knows as well as you do what’s coming.

‘Am I in danger,’ you ask, feeling the sick twist of regime in your stomach, the edge of familiarity in the question, ‘by you being here? Is it putting me in danger?’

‘No, no, I promise.’ His head shakes. ‘No-one knows I’m here.’

‘You’re sure?’

He pauses, swallows. Nods. ‘It’s just me.’

‘And is it only the burns? Nothing else?’

‘I’d do it myself, but I,’ his teeth chatter, ‘I can’t reach.’

‘Okay.’ No surprise gunshot wounds, no broken bones. You can handle it, as long as you know what to expect. ‘I’ll do my best,’ you tell him, now you know it isn’t at your detriment, and turn to look through the cabinet above the sink.

‘Thank-you,’ he begins, which you try to wave off. ‘No, I mean it, I—I know you must hate…’ The words get away from him. A drop of water shakes from the peak of his hair onto his cheek. ‘Yeah, just, thank-you.’

You know what he’s implying. He’s as wrong about it now as he was then.

‘I don’t hate you, Frank.’

‘Well, you don’t like me much,’ he grumbles. ‘Not that I blame you.’

You don’t like his choices. You don’t like his instincts. You don’t like his susceptibility to getting himself in trouble, once a fucking week. ‘Take this off,’ you tell him, tugging at the sopping wet of his sleeve. ‘You’re shivering.’

He complies, jaw-setting as he pulls both the hoody and t-shirt over his head, no doubt having to rip the burnt-fibres from the edges of his wounds. He does well to hide it—if that’s the case—removes them without a hiss of pain, or any hesitation. The wet lump of them lands on the tiles with a slap, water splattering over your socks.

You fill the sink, making sure it’s lukewarm, cool. It’d be better to douse him with hot water, really, to stop the shivers and get rid of the smell, but the burns are more pressing. The very last thing they need is more heat.

‘Jeans and socks too. Then sit on the bath,’ you instruct before leaving the room. It isn’t for privacy’s sake, but to get your blanket from the couch and a clean towel from the closet. Get him warm, get the site disinfected, then cover it in Saran wrap and hope for the best. It isn’t as good as real, authoritative, medical treatment, but it’s better than he could manage by himself.

When you’re back, he’s done as you said again, and is sitting on the edge of the bath in just his boxers. A sorry sight, long past the invitation that it used to be. You’re sure there’s scars there that you aren’t familiar with, across his chest, below his naval, but there isn’t time to inspect them. He’s shaking still, and looking up at you like he’s sorry to occupy the space at all.

‘You ever treated burns?’ he asks, as you hand him the blanket.

‘Nothing like that,’ you admit. ‘Spin.’

He does. You put the towel on the floor beneath his back, where the drips will be, as he drapes the blanket over his lap. He isn’t shy about it now, how cold he is. He pulls the edge of the throw up to his chin, tucking his arms inside it, and gives a bigger, exaggerated shiver afterwards. Like he’s purging it, and inviting warmth to take it’s place now that it’s out.

Without the clothes, the burns look dangerous. Red and angry, almost the print of a cross over his back, with the worst of them sitting in a thick strip along his shoulder blades.

‘What even…?’ You brush a thumb by the edge of it, bending down to get a closer look; it’s not just a burn, but a scrape too, a layer of skin torn off like he’s been dragged over tarmac. ‘What happened, beyond the fire?’

You don’t mean the order of events that led to it, or the reasoning behind him shouldering fire in the first place—you’re long past caring or asking about his endeavours. Anything that ends in a list of dead bodies, people he’s killed, is none of your business. That stopped being your problem, the same time he did. But the longer you look, the less it seems like a simple, standard burn. The less you know about how to treat it.

Frank grunts, head dipped. ‘Over-estimated a jump. Slipped off a, a wall, going into the river.’

You wince. ‘Yeah, looks like you left a bit of your back attached to it.’

He puffs out through his nose. ‘That bad?’

Not by his standards, you’re sure. ‘Well. I think it’s saved you from the worst of the blistering, at least.’ The smaller scalds will, no doubt, tonight or tomorrow, but the wide abrasion across the top might have saved him from something more severe. ‘I don’t think you’re supposed to put cream on them,’ you say, ‘but I’ve got an antiseptic spray that I think will be worth the risk.’ And the pain. ‘Okay?’

‘Yeah,’ he agrees, without hesitation, ‘do what you gotta do.’

When you start at it with the water, poured slow from a mug and onto his back, he hisses. Sucks breaths in and out between the clench of his teeth, regulates the pain for your sake alone, you’re sure, and you can bare that. You can work while he does that, quiet and dedicated.

But when you move onto the spray, he swears, low and rasping, like he hates you for a moment. Like he’s angry at you, the antiseptic, the base of the bath that he thumps with his heel.

‘I’m sorry,’ you put quickly, unable to ignore it. ‘This is the worst part.’

Maybe bad enough, really, that you shouldn’t be doing it at all. In the grand scheme of things, agitated burns are better than infection, right? Better than leaving whatever germs live in the Hudson, to fester in the scrapes of his skin.

‘Keep going,’ he insists, through the clench of his jaw—so you do, grimacing each time he swears and flinches under you.

By the time it’s done, dried and wrapped, you’re both exhausted. Him more than you, that you can admit. He sits quietly on the bath now, waiting for the painkillers you’d promised. It’s the first time he hasn’t tried to convince you that he doesn’t need them.

‘Here.’ You hand him the pills, the glass of water. Watch him swallow them both, before sitting beside him, facing the opposite way. Shoulder to shoulder. ‘I think that’s about all I can do for you,’ you say, glancing at his waiting gaze.

He’s got his head turned towards you, dark eyes only inches away. You can’t match them for long. You’re looking back at the pile of wet clothes on the floor before you speak again.

‘If it shows any sign of infection, Frank.’

He puts the glass down, head shaking in the edge of your vision. ‘I’m not going to a hospital. I can’t.’ He’s dead already, he means, and waltzing into the ER would ruin the only leg-up he has.

‘Then someone who knows more than me, at least,’ you insist. ‘You can’t do any of your righteous, vigilante bullshit with sepsis, you know.’

‘I know,’ he says, and he means it. Sounds sore about it too, regretful, even. Not because of his health, but because of what it would take from him.

You let him sit with that for a moment, watching him drop the blanket from his shoulders and put his hands over the top of it instead, pooling in his lap. The shaking’s stopped now; without the wet clothes, and in the warmth of your home, it didn’t take long to scare them away. After the ordeal you put him through, he’s sweating instead. Damp across his brow.

‘Why d’you do it?’ you ask, though you’d told yourself long ago that you would stop asking him that. Stop wasting your breath on something that would never change.

‘Do what?’ He looks like he might laugh, glancing sideways at you, like he’s itching to say, you think I toasted myself on purpose? But it’s over-compensation, really. He knows what you mean.

‘Put yourself in these fucking situations, every time…’ You sigh. ‘You had a chance to get out, Frank. To start fresh.’

But why bother saying it to him? You know the answer as soon as it comes from your lips. You know what makes him do it. You know he can’t function otherwise. If bad coping mechanisms had a poster boy, he would be it. If self-hatred and self-pity was a competition, he’d win. He would lap everyone before they’d even got off the mark.

‘You’ve got to retire at some point,’ you tell him, which sounds like a plea you hadn’t aimed to give.

He scoffs, shaking his head. His thumbs toy with the edge of the blanket. ‘You know it doesn’t work like that.’

Not for him, that’s the truth, and it snowballs in your head until you say, ‘You’re gonna keep going until something kills you, aren’t you?’

He doesn’t answer, because he can’t do that either. Admitting it aloud, to himself or to you, would make it real. Undeniable.

‘Well,’ you start, bending the conversation into something liveable again, ‘you’re lucky your ex is so good at first aid.’ You shoulder him, lightly, smiling until he smiles back. Just enough.

‘Yeah,’ he breathes, ‘yeah, I am.’ He considers you for a moment, before tucking his chin and looking to his hands. ‘I didn’t think you’d be so,’ he hesitates, searching for the word.

‘Willing?’

He nods. ‘Thought I’d have to talk you into it.’

You snort, a real smile creeping onto your lips. ‘Would you have begged if I asked you to?’

‘I don’t know.’ His brows pinch together, thick and sorry-looking. ‘Would you have turned me away if I didn’t?’

‘No,’ you realise, because you had patched him up too often to let him suffer now. The blood on your hands has to have been worth something. ‘But I’d have taken an extra pass with that spray.’

He laughs weakly. ‘Yeah, that, I’d probably deserve.’

Because that’s his answer to everything, isn’t it? Every ounce of pain he endures, is nothing but a coin in the never ending debt that he owes himself. The only person that would ever expect it of him. The only one that thinks he deserves this, burns and wounds that he can’t fix for himself.

‘I think you should go,’ you say quietly, as your heart tugs in the opposite direction. ‘It’s late.’

Late, and approaching the longest time you’ve spent with him since the two of you broke up. Any longer and you might forget why.