#i picture butterflies and peace every time i listen to it

[sadnymi]

「 ✦ Touch tank.✦ 」

Theodore Nott x reader

Summary: Every witch at Hogwarts seems to be chasing a single dream – to catch the eye of Theodore Nott. But Theo? He's completely unfazed by their relentless pursuit. Here's the secret: his heart, and his gaze, have belonged to me for a long time. And that's something he loves to remind me of, every chance he gets.

Words: 2k

Warning: fluff, smut , oral (f!receive) (public!sex).

Theo and I found ourselves in a picturesque field of blooming flowers, the air filled with the sweet scent of nature. spreading out a soft satin blanket to sit on. I wore a comfortable short dress that allowed the gentle breeze to caress my skin, and my hair cascaded around me in loose waves as I lay down on the blanket.

Theo settled beside me, leaning against the tree trunk with his back, and I couldn't help but admire the serene expression on his face as he gazed out at the blooming flowers. The colors of nature seemed to come alive around us, adding to the magic of the moment.

As I flipped through the pages of my book, occasionally glancing at the vibrant blooms around us, I noticed Theo's gaze fixated on me. His eyes held a gentle warmth, and a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he watched me.

Feeling his eyes on me, I looked up from my book a blush crept up my cheeks as I met his gaze. "Enjoying the view?" I teased, a playful glint in my eyes.

Theo chuckled softly, his gaze softening even more. "Always," he replied, his voice carrying a hint of admiration. "Especially when the view includes you."

I couldn't help but blush at his words, a smile spreading across my face. "Must you be so charming? Makes it hard to concentrate on my book.", pretending to be engrossed in my book but secretly relishing the attention.

This wasn't the Theo Nott every witch at Hogwarts lusted after – the one with the cutting remarks and veiled threats. This was my Theo , a Theo whose gaze lingered a little too long, whose voice softened when he spoke to me, and whose occasional smile sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

Memories flickered to life, a stark contrast to the peaceful scene. The first time we spoke, I was a clumsy second-year fumbling with a stack of heavy books in the bustling hallway. Papers scattered everywhere, and I felt tears prick my eyes with frustration. Before I could even bend down, Theo was there, kneeling beside me. With surprising gentleness, he began gathering the scattered parchment, his touch light as he brushed against my hand.

"Looks like you could use a hand," he'd said, his voice a low murmur that sent goosebumps erupting on my arms. "Or perhaps someone to keep you company for a bit?" He straightened up, his eyes locking with mine for a beat longer than necessary. A hint of a playful glint sparked within them before he offered a crooked smile. "Don't worry," he added, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "I'm gentle when I want to be."

That simple phrase, delivered with a knowing smirk, had stayed with me ever since. It was a revelation .

These were the glimpses of Theo that drew me in. The boy beneath the cool exterior, the one who used his signature smirk not for cruelty but for a hint of amusement, the one who offered unexpected help with a quiet kindness.

As I lay there, bathed in the warm afternoon sun, a smile touched my lips in response to Theo's gaze. The years seemed to melt away, and I was no longer the nervous first year, but a young woman who had discovered the hidden warmth beneath the icy facade of Theodore Nott.

Theo shifted slightly, leaning closer. “ read to me beautiful “ he said

Propping myself up on my elbows, I looked at him with a soft smile. "Alright," I agreed, my heart fluttering a little. "Just for you."

"The dragon soared high above the mountains, its scales shimmering in the sunlight as it let out a mighty roar," I read, my voice filled with excitement.

Theo listened intently, I continued to read, painting vivid pictures with my words of heroes on epic quests, enchanted forests, and ancient prophecies.

"The brave knight drew his sword, ready to face the dark sorcerer who threatened to plunge the kingdom into eternal darkness," I narrated, my voice taking on a dramatic tone to match the intensity of the scene.

As I read, I couldn't help but steal glances at him, noticing the way his eyes lit up with each new twist and turn of the plot.

As I continued reading the fantasy tale, His lips brushed softly against my neck sending a wave of tingling sensations through me. I closed my eyes, savoring the intimate moment as a soft moan escaped my lips.

"Don't stop reading," Theo whispered, his warm breath tickling my skin. His hand gently pulled my hair to one side, giving him better access to my neck as his kisses trailed down.

I complied, trying to focus on the words on the page while Theo's kisses distracted me. The story seemed to take on a new level of excitement as his touch added an extra layer of thrill to the narrative.

" summoned her magical powers, her eyes glowing with determination as she faced the ultimate challenge," I read, my voice slightly breathless .

His kisses grew more fervent, his lips leaving a trail of soft, lingering kisses along my neck and collarbone. I struggled to maintain my composure, the combination of the story's intensity and Theo's intimate advances stirring a potent mixture of emotions within me.

his hand slipped from my hair to my waist, pulling me closer to him as he continued to pepper kisses on my skin. Each touch sent sparks of desire coursing through me, blending seamlessly with the fantasy unfolding in the book.

I read on, my voice occasionally faltering as Theo's kisses grew more insistent. It was a delightful challenge, trying to stay focused on the story while being tantalizingly distracted by Theo's affectionate gestures.

"The dragon unleashed its fiery breath, but the heroine stood her ground, wielding her enchanted sword with unwavering resolve," I narrated, my voice filled with the adrenaline of the story and the thrill of Theo's intimate attentions.

Theo's kisses on my neck ignited a fire within me, driving me to arch my back in pleasure. I looked at him, my eyes filled with a mixture of desire and longing as he played with my hair, sending tingles down my spine with each touch.

"Do you trust me, baby ?" Theo's voice was soft, his gaze intense as he searched my eyes for reassurance. I nodded, unable to form words as his kisses left me intoxicated and eager for more.

"Good, because I need you to relax now and never stop reading, understood ?" His words were a command, but there was tenderness in his tone that made my heart flutter.

his hands moved with purpose, pushing my dress up to my waist with a single smooth motion. The feeling alone made me moan, the anticipation of what was to come sending shivers of excitement through me. "Theo," I gasped.

"Yes, baby?" Theo's voice was a soothing balm, calming my nerves as I voiced my concern. "What if someone..."

Theo silenced me with a gentle finger on my lips. "Shh, Never be afraid, No one will ever dare to," he assured me, his eyes filled with sincerity and devotion.

With a final nod, I surrendered to the moment, focusing on the story in my hands .His hand cupped me through my panties, and I arched my back in response, holding onto his shoulder for support. He encouraged me to keep reading, his touch growing bolder yet still gentle.

I could feel myself getting wetter with each caress, my panties becoming soaked. With a tender touch, he parted my legs, and I continued reading, my voice trembling with desire.

As my arousal grew, I read with a shaky voice, he continued to rub gently through my panties, the fabric growing damp against my skin.

I kept reading, my voice trembling slightly as his touch sent shivers of pleasure through me. It was as if the words on the page were melting into a blur.

As his finger circled my clit through the soaked fabric, a soft gasp escaped my lips, and I found myself arching into his touch. My hand instinctively reached out, finding solace on his shoulder as I looked into his eyes, filled with a mix of desire and longing.

“ you stop i stop baby “

"I'll keep reading," I whispered, my voice barely audible amidst the rising pleasure. "Please, don't stop."

He nodded, a smirk playing on his lips as he continued his ministrations. My focus wavered, the words of the book fading into the background as his touch became my entire world. The gentle circles, the teasing strokes, they all pushed me closer and closer to the edge .

Theo's voice broke through my haze of pleasure, his words a tantalizing invitation. "Will you come for me, darling?" he murmured, his fingers working their magic. "Right here, with your panties still on?"

I could only manage a nod, my body trembling with anticipation. With each touch, each stroke, I felt the tension building, the pleasure mounting to an almost unbearable level. And then it hit me, a wave of ecstasy crashing over me, my body shaking as I cried out in pure bliss.

His hands held me steady, guiding me through the intensity of my orgasm. As I slowly came down from the high, my eyes fluttered open to meet his gaze, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

"Such a good girl," he praised softly, his voice filled with admiration and affection. He pulled my soaked panties down and knelt between my legs.

"Theo," I tried to say.

"Open those beautiful legs for me love " he said, and I did as he ordered. I looked down at him as he licked my thighs, and I couldn't help but tremble. He held my legs to control my movements, then pulled them around his shoulders, kissing the skin behind my knees.

"Oh, Theo, I can't... uhh..." I tried to express, but the pleasure was overwhelming.

"You can, baby. You're such a good girl. " he encouraged, and I nodded, closing my eyes to focus on the sensations.

Then, I felt his mouth on me. I gripped the blankets with both hands, moaning loudly as his tongue licked every inch of my pussy, circling my clit before moving down to my entrance.

Then he inserted a finger inside me, and I moaned loudly. moved his finger slowly while his tongue continued to lick my clit. Then, without warning, he began to move faster, adding another finger.

He kept hitting my G-spot, and my back arched so hard that I felt like I was going to fly. He held me down, and I tried to close my legs, but he kept them open.

His other hand started to circle my clit vigorously and rapidly, while his fingers continued to penetrate me deeply and quickly, hitting my G-spot repeatedly. His tongue never stopped its movements on my pussy.

I screamed his name, my hands gripping the blanket so tightly that I felt like I would tear it apart. Tears streamed down my face, my mascara running, as I gasped for air.

his touch became more intense and focused. His fingers expertly massaged my most sensitive areas, sending waves of pleasure through my body. I could feel myself getting wetter and wetter, aching for release.

Suddenly, I felt an intense pressure building inside me, different from anything I had experienced before. It was like a tingling warmth spreading from my core, radiating outwards with every touch.

And then it happened - a sudden gush of fluid escaped from me, soaking both of us in its warmth. It was a mix of surprise and intense pleasure, as I experienced squirting for the first time.

Theo's eyes widened in amazement and delight, his fingers never ceasing their movements as they continued to coax more pleasure from my trembling body. His lips met mine in a passionate kiss, his hands still gently exploring my body as if committing every inch to memory. As our lips parted, I whispered, "I love you," feeling the weight of those words and the depth of my emotions.

He kissed me again, a tender and lingering kiss that conveyed all the love and desire we shared. "I love you too only you , always you ," he murmured against my lips, his voice filled with warmth and sincerity.

Exhaustion washed over me like a gentle tide, and I nestled my head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The comfort of his embrace was like a warm blanket wrapping around me, and I closed my eyes, succumbing to the blissful embrace of sleep, knowing that I was safe and loved in his arms.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

[writingsofwesteros]

Social Media AU

Chapter One

@dreamfyre03 and @writingsofwesteros

“Daenora please,” Alicent said exasperatedly. “You can’t wear that to a company event, I can’t bear to listen to your father or your grandfather give me a lecture on your ostentatious fashion choices.”

The tight, short, red dress with beading depicting a dragon in black was a custom piece, as the silver haired girl informed her mother- designers from the Free Cities would give a limb to see a young Targaryen heiress wearing one of their creations. It wasn’t to say that her mother wasn’t fashion oriented; she was just…more conservative leaning. Indeed, it was easy to forget how young her mother actually was, with the way her features were always contorted in an image of worry, stress, or just pure exhaustion- unless there were cameras around. The twelve year age difference between her parents was one that her father had thrown money at every Westerosi media outlet to turn a blind eye to, and she was quite sure her grandfather had done the same. 

“It’s custom, Mother,” Daenora reached for the black boots to go with the outfit. “A new up and coming  designer from Lys.” “That isn’t helping. Please, darling, this is the last weekend before you and your siblings return to St. Baelor’s and I’d prefer it was a peaceful one. I’d really rather avoid another incident like what happened at the Baratheon gala.” Her mother said, going through her daughter’s closet for something more toned down. Daenora smiled to herself as she remembered that night- her oldest brother Aegon had been drinking way too much, as he often did, and she with him, and when they with their other siblings, Aemond and Helaena, went up to the rooftop of the building, Aegon popped a bottle of champagne and sprayed it onto the waiting press down below. Father was livid, Mother was weary- and that led to her father paying those reporters a hefty sum to stay quiet, and of course, when he ripped into each of the four of them in an exasperated rage, picking at anything he could find- including the outfit she wore that night. She found it a fond memory if only because it meant she royally pissed off Viserys Targaryen. 

It was a fun pastime, annoying her father, and she resolved in her mind to continue to do it until he quit being a massive hypocrite. That same weekend, her half-sister Rhaenyra took a trip with her own family- her husband Laenor Velaryon, her sons Jacearys, Lucerys, and baby Joffrey. And it just so happened that pictures leaked of Rhaenyra entwined with a man that wasn’t her husband- but her bodyguard, a man who Daenora had to admit was a hunk of man she wouldn’t mind tasting- Harwin Strong. Of course, every time she happened to drop comments that her nephews looked a lot like the bodyguard, her father wouldn’t hear it.

“Fine,” She conceded. Alicent pulled out a black and gold floor length gown. “This is much better,” Her mother hung the dress up on her closet door. “Now get ready, darling. We really ought to leave soon.” Alicent told her on the way out, shutting her bedroom door. 

Makeup done, hair done, since the stylist had left a few hours ago, she was sitting in a robe on her bed scrolling, when the door opened. “Nora?” A soft voice caught her attention. “Helly,” She smiled, sitting up. “What’s up?” She asked her sister. “Mother said to tell you that she’ll go ahead with Father, and that Criston’s going to come back and pick the four of us up.” Her sister said as she sat on the bed. Helaena’s own pale blue dress was reflective of her sister’s gentle nature, and the diamond bracelet on her wrist with little butterflies on it was so perfectly Helaena. “Are our dear brothers ready?” Nora asked as Helaena zipped up her dress for her. “Aemond’s been ready an hour now, he’s making sure he’s enrolled in all those advanced classes for when we get back to school,” Her sister said as they walked down the hall. “Aegon’s-” Nora pushed open Aegon’s door without knocking- boundaries weren’t exactly something present between the four, to find Aegon in bed sprawled and his suit still hanging on the door. The eldest Targaryen let out a whistle as he saw the two in his doorway. “You guys sure you don’t just wanna ditch this stupid thing? You look too hot to waste on those losers.” He grinned. “We can’t, Aeg,” Nora told him, as he approached them both with a look that she’d seen a million times. “Mother’s expecting us, and she’s kinda hoping this weekend isn’t a total shitshow.” He groaned in exasperation. “Fine.” He took his shirt off and tossed it in a corner. “I’ll be ready in twenty, baby- unless either of you wanna-” He gestured to the shower in his bathroom. Ever the flirt, their brother. It was a uniquely Targaryen experience, to have a brother that flirted (among other things) like a boyfriend, but could be as annoying as well…a brother. Aemond was more a brother of action rather than words, though. 

“Later, Aeg,” Nora told him, and with a pout her brother went to finally get himself ready. 

Aemond sat at his desk, everything in his room pristine- his bed, his desk, the shelves- even Vhagar’s cat bed was pristine as the old feline meowed as his sisters entered. “Aegon’s still not ready?” He hummed as he shut his laptop. “In the shower,” Helaena replied softly as she knelt to pet Vhagar, who purred contentedly.

“Can’t believe they’re coming back for this stupid thing.” Aemond grumbled. It was no secret that Aemond despised even being in the same room as their nephew Lucerys. A bout of childhood rough playing gone wrong on their family’s beach estate, Dragonstone, ended with Lucerys shoving Aemond into the rocky part of the beach, and a piece of jagged, sharp rock slashing his eye. Their mother Alicent almost pressed charges were it not for the hand of their father stepping in and stopping her. Rhaenyra quietly paid Aemond’s medical bills to ease her own conscience, but there never came an apology from Lucerys, and worse- their father never demanded one. In the years since the incident, Aemond had adjusted to life with the best prosthetic eye money could buy, and he acted as though their half sister and nephews didn’t exist, except when he lost his temper on the occasions their father forced them to be together. Even at school, St. Baelor’s Academy, a private boarding school that oozed of elitism and students whose ancestors had attended before them, Aemond didn’t even look Jacaerys’s way. It was a good thing Lucerys wasn’t yet attending the school, for the Seven above knew that it spelled trouble. 

“We’ll just ignore them-” Helaena tried to say, but Aemond cut her off, as he went on. “All for the old fool to put on a good show for the press. We’ve all gotta pretend that they’re actually Corlys Velaryon’s grandsons- those twats should be in line to take over at HarrenCorp Security Firm, not Velaryon Shipping.” Aemond huffed. 

“Daella’s kinda lucky she’s off in Oldtown,” Aemond muttered, referring to their youngest sister who their mother had managed to convince their father to allow to attend the private all-girls school. The exclusive institution was ingrained in the Faith of the Seven, which Nora supposed gave her mother some semblance of comfort. 

“I can flirt with Harwin Strong to piss Rhaenyra off,” Nora offered. “See her get all wound up and can’t do anything about it-” “Don’t you dare.” Aemond replied. Having protective brothers was one thing, add jealousy to it and it’s another game entirely. 

“You guys ready?” Aegon appeared moments later, dressed in his suit, a bottle of champagne in his hand. Aemond rolled his eye as they walked down to meet the car. “There better not be any coke in your pocket.” Aemond grunted as the four siblings packed into the limousine.

The room was draped in the richest silks, the picture of elegance with waiters dressed in red and black serving canapes, champagne, as Westeros’s elite gathered under the generosity of the richest of them all, Viserys Targaryen. Targaryen Incorporated encompassed many industries; from hotels to media distribution, and that’s just what was out in the open. The Targaryens had their hand in everything from government dealings to elections, they may not be called Kings and Queens anymore but their rule had never really ended. “Aegon, do fix your jacket,” Alicent snapped when she approached her children. “For heaven’s sake what did you do in the limo?” Aegon huffed and adjusted his jacket in an exaggerated motion. “Happy now, Mother dearest?” “I thought you’d come and talk to some of your father’s board members, perhaps some investors?” Their mother suggested to Aegon, whose face contorted into a pointed frown. “Why?” “Because you are your father’s eldest son, Aegon.” Nora saw her mother glance over to where their grandfather, Otto, was keeping an eye on them. “You do know he skipped half our economics classes last semester?” Aemond asked her, taking a drink from himself. “It’s why he’s taking it this year. Again.”

“Aemond, please.” Their mother said exasperatedly. Alicent grabbed Aegon’s hand like he was still a child and all but dragged him over to the business men where their father stood. 

“I don’t know why they’re bothering,” Aemond muttered. “Who, brother?” Helaena asked, confused. The noise in the room felt a bit overstimulating, coupled with all the eyes on them, so she slid her hand into her sister’s, and Nora gladly held it. “Mother. Grandfather. Trying to make Aegon into the next company CEO for after Father croaks.” Aemond scoffed. “As if he hasn’t already named Rhaenyra for that in his will anyway- as if she’s any better.” Helaena sighed- she knew better than to try and interrupt Aemond when he was on an angry tirade…even when he was right. “Of course she didn’t even finish university.” Aemond went on. “The day she steps in as CEO she’ll probably only remember the faces of the ones she’s fucked. Beats me how you can put someone to run a company who didn’t even have it in them to finish their fucking degree.”

“Speak of the devil,” Aemond muttered as the three of them turned to see Rhaenyra entering with Laenor, and behind her, Jaceaerys and Lucerys. Upon sensing Aemond’s cold glare Luke visibly shifted behind his brother, who glanced at his silver-haired relatives who suddenly made his own brown locks feel so very plain. “Rhaenyra, my dearest child,” Viserys beamed, going over to greet them, and Nora could hardly contain the irritation as she rolled her eyes. She watched with her siblings as their father warmly greeted Rhaenyra and her family- meanwhile he hadn’t so much as spared them a glance since they arrived. Unsurprising- their father would choose Rhaenyra and her kids over them every damned time. “The prodigal golden-child returns,” Aegon’s voice appeared beside her, as he seemingly had managed to escape their mother’s attempts to have him mingle with board members and investors.

“Easy on the booze, Aegon,” Their grandfather’s rough voice corrected Aegon as her brother went from another flute of champagne. “For fucks’ sake.” Aegon muttered, drinking the whole thing in one gulp. 

Admittedly, their grandfather didn’t have the most warmth, but what little warmth he did have was seemingly left for Helaena and their youngest sister, Daella. Aegon received the brunt of his roughness, as Otto Hightower had always been the looming shadow that reprimanded Aegon, his own ambition to see his grandson as the new Targaryen Incorporated CEO ever-clear. As Otto went off to talk to Tywin Lannister, a big investor of her father’s and her grandfather’s oldest friend, Nora was about to tell her siblings they might try and slip out now when Rhaenyra herself approached them. “Rhaenyra,” Nora plastered a fake smile on her face. Aemond remained coldly silent, as Helaena gave her a polite smile and Aegon just leaned on Nora. “Daenora, it’s lovely to see you all,” Rhaenyra said. “Are you all off to St. Baelor’s again soon?” “In a few days,” Nora replied coolly. “How was Pentos? I saw the pictures, you certainly looked…relaxed,” Nora gave her a smug smile, as she saw Rhaenyra tense at the subtle jab at the leaked pictures of her and Harwin nakedly entwined on a beach in Pentos. “It was lovely,” She said tightly. “The boys loved the beaches, and-” “I hope your son managed not to maim anyone else,” Aemond cut in sharply. “I hear beaches in Pentos could be…rocky.” “I- Well, I should really go speak to some people. Catch up.”  She smiled at them before walking off. “Real subtle, Aem.” Aegon commented, and Aemond just rolled his eye. A few hours later as the reception ended, they all went and sat at their various tables for the sit-down dinner, and the siblings sat together talking amongst themselves, when Nora raised a brow when the last two persons assigned to their table took their seats. “Fuck no,” Aemond couldn’t help but mutter, glaring at the brown haired boys across from them. “Are you lost?” Nora asked coldly. “The seating chart says we’re seated here,” Jace replied, as Luke glanced nervously at Aemond. “I don’t give a shit what it says, I don’t want you here,” Aemond spat. “Children please,” Alicent pleaded at the table next to theirs. “Do lighten up, Aemond,” Viserys said. “We’re family, boy.” Aemond only tensed further, like a bomb about to explode any moment now, and his breathing only began to slow when he felt Helaena slide her hand into his. Nora glared at their nephews before she ordered another drink for herself…and some water for Aemond, the last thing they needed was Aemond angry and drunk.

It seemed as though everything would be fine, they’d get through this night and hopefully Aegon had a little weed left over, they could head back home and go get high around the pool or something. Until Aemond caught wind of Jace’s eyes lingering on sweet Helaena, who was sitting between their brothers, almost dissociated from the tense atmosphere in the room- or at least, at their table. “Quit it.” Aemond said roughly to Jace. “Quit what?” “Staring at Helaena.” Aemond clenched his fists on the table, as Helaena looked at her sister at the mention of her name, and Nora gave her a reassuring smile, though she didn’t feel it- Aemond could restrain his temper, usually, but when around Jace and Luke…not so much. Not always. The anger and animosity he felt against Rhaenyra’s whole family for his accident, for how they never faced any kind of consequence, how their father always took their side, always- he couldn’t always hold it in. 

“I can look where I want,” Jace replied stupidly- even Aegon could sense Aemond’s impending outburst. “Fucking idiot,” Aegon muttered under his breath. “Not at my sister. Not at either one of them.” Aemond snapped back. “Guys, let’s just calm down-” “Shut up Luke,” Aemond snapped at the younger boy. “It’s a miracle you guys have the time to be here tonight- I figured that between spending time with Laenor and your real father, you’d be all booked.” “Aemond-” Nora tried to butt in but he ignored her. “Shut up.” Jace clenched his jaw, as Aemond gave him an antagonising smile. “What, didn’t you get to spend time with Daddy Strong this summer? Was he too busy fucking your mother for all the press to see?” Aemond kept goading him. “Will you boys be quiet?” Alicent stepped over to their table. “There are guests here, please-” “At least my dad gives a shit,” Jace hit back. “Yours likes me better than you, we all know it. And that was before the accident, Cyclops.” Aemond was silent for a moment- deceiving those within earshot that he was humbled- but they were sorely mistaken when Aemond lunged over the table and shoved Jace, who growled and tried to hit Aemond back. Utter chaos, and Helaena’s eyes widened as she covered her ears, the noise overstimulating her and Nora grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the table. “Aegon!” Nora shouted at him when she saw Luke about to try and help Jace as he and Aemond fought each other. Aegon’s eyes narrowed and he grabbed Luke by the hair and yanked him to fall back, muttering, “Not today, mongrel.” “Security!” Their father’s voice could be heard as the sounds of Jace and Aemond grunting and rolling on the ground could be heard- worse, the sound of cameras snapping. 

“Enough!” Viserys shouted angrily as the bodyguards pulled the boys apart. “That is enough!” Security led their family out of the room and into a smaller library in the venue, as Alicent worriedly used the pocket square from Aemond’s suit to wipe the blood from his lip, and Rhaenyra anxiously kept checking Jace and Luke for injuries. Nora held Helaena’s hand tightly as Viserys slammed the door. “What is wrong with you children?” Viserys paced angrily. “One night, could you not be civil for one night? Board members, investors, press, people we all know were present here tonight and instead of presenting an image of sophistication you both wrestle in the middle of a dining room like this is a tawdry bar in Flea Bottom!” “Viserys please-” Alicent tried to interrupt, but as he did most of the time, he ignored her. “Aemond, boy, what has gotten into you? I expect this type of foolish behaviour from Aegon, but for Seven’s sake-” Aegon wasn’t even phased by their father’s low opinion of him anymore as he just sat next to his sisters, as Nora took his other hand. “And Jaceaerys, lad- you’re better than this.” “Father please, Aemond goaded him! He provoked him-” Rhaenyra butted in, and Nora rolled her eyes. “He called Aemond a fucking cyclops!” Nora interrupted Rhaenyra, glaring up at her father. “He was being an asshole, and he was staring at Helaena-” “You’re on thin ice yourself, girl- watch your tone.” Viserys warned her.  “You’ve all shamed our family name tonight with this behaviour.” Their father pronounced. “Alicent have the children sent home, and have Otto deal with the press.”

Their mother nodded, and called Criston to bring the car around to take the four of them home.

Aemond didn’t even wait for Viserys to say anything else, he just stormed out, and his siblings followed him.

A few minutes later, on the limo ride home, Aegon finally broke the silence- their father’s words all replayed in their minds.

“What a dick.” Aegon muttered.

[elvispresleywife]

Valentines Blues.

Ok, so today is Valentines day and that means....today I miss Elvis really badly(as usual). Now I miss him everyday all the time. For some people it's creepy, and weird. People ask "How can you miss a man you've never met?" or people say "You don't really love him, you can't you don't know him. It's just a crush" Explain to me the butterflies I get just by looking at his hands, or the absolute joy I feel knowing I get to come home, seeing him or reading about him, the way I absolutely gush and blush over every little movement of his, every twitch or blink. Every facial expression holds a special place in my heart. There's not one phase I love of his more than the others. The happiness and immense light he brings to my life, is unexplainable. I know it's love. It's so strong, and fierce....I can't explain it at all. I wish I could, maybe it wouldn't hurt so bad on the days I did miss him if I knew why I loved him so much? But fact is, I can't explain it. I love him. That's a fact. Think and say what you will, but I can't control it.

Today....is one of the days I miss him more than most. I've cried so much, just looking at a photo of him makes me cry. Any of his songs make me cry, I don't know why. I hate that I do. I should be happy he's in Heaven experiencing the peace he so desperately needed, but....I can't help but want to be selfish and question why he's up there instead of down here with me(us). I don't like that, and I feel guilty, he did so much and deserved so much, peace is the least he should get, for all he did. And yet....I want him here. With me. It's just so hard to miss and love someone you'll never meet until later on. And fact is, I know it's stupid and crazy but I feel like I know him, even though no one will ever know him really apart from the people who did and were closest to him, but I feel I do. His likes and dislikes I feel I could name off the bat, there's just some things I see or read about and go "Yeah Elvis would agree with that" or "Oh he'd hate that" or I'd watch a movie and I'd picture him laughing at something in it, and go "Oh he'd love this movie, it's exactly his humor!" and in fact sometimes I swear I can hear his laugh when I do, now I promise I'm not crazy! For example National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation is one movie I know for a fact he'd love. He'd be laughing and reciting so many lines from it all Christmas Holidays I just know it.

He was such a beautiful light. So intricately made, there's not a thing he did that didn't have some purpose. God absolutely knew what he was doing when he was making Elvis(Not that he doesn't know what he's doing already) but you know what I mean. I just....my heart constantly aches for him. It yearns for him. No matter what I do, he comes back to me somehow. I can't escape him no matter how hard I try. And as much as I love him being around, I don't understand why I I love him so much and so abundantly yet my heart hurts so badly. Everyone who met him says the photos did him no justice compared to the real thing....and if I'm in love with what I see on Instagram, or personal recounts, books, magazines, photos, interviews, videos, imagine how much I'd(we'd) love him in person? I just don't get it! Why do I love a man so much that is out of my reach? How am I supposed to live a normal life with this looming over me all the time?

I'm grateful for him of course! I could never not be with him now, but....it get's hard sometimes, when your heart exhausts itself over something you will never reach.

Anyway, sorry for rambling. I don't know if this made any sense at all (probably not) but hopefully this rant helped someone else out there! I feel like I annoy people sometimes so I'm sorry in advanced!

Thankyou for listening!

TCB.

[eternalsams]

Sweet Memories ⇴ J.Machado

pairing: Javy Machado x old flame fem!reader

warning/content: angst, regrets, fluff, cheating, mentions of breakup and innuendos to divorce

summary: An umpteenth night next to your husband makes you realize what could've been your life.

word count: 2.1k

a/n: English isn't my first language so please take that into consideration. This is inspired by the song Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan. I DO NOT TOLERATE CHEATING, THIS IS ONLY USED AS A PLOT FOR FICTION.

masterlist

The window of your bedroom was open because of the unbearable heat of August. You were listening to the limited cars driving by, your hands joined on your stomach and an arm draped over you. You look at the man sleeping next to you and couldn't resist running your fingers in his hair, getting the locks out of his face. His brows furrowed for a moment and then peace took over his features. You softly smile and kiss the top of his head before turning back to your bedside table, staring at your phone. Sleep didn't want to come to you after you've read the text Javy sent you sooner today. He was in town. It's been years since the last time you saw him, since you'd broken things with him. You were the one ending things up, he never knew the real reasons, and he probably never will. He didn't know why he sent you that text, probably because he unconsciously wanted you back. He never met anyone else like you, he got his fair share of women, one night stands and relationships. But not a single one could even dream to compare to you.

You grab your phone and unlock it, staring at the text for a moment before opening Instagram, as if you felt it, Javy just posted a video of him in a bar you didn't recognize. He was smiling, singing along some old rock song and probably annoying that blond guy who was trapped under Javy's arm. You chuckle quietly and before you could even think about it, you respond to his video with a laughing emoji. You realize what you just did and drop your phone on your chest. You haven't talked to Javy in years, you never told him why you'd broken up with him, he must hate yo-

Vzzz

You look down at your phone and see the new notifications with Javy's username. You look back at your husband who's sound asleep and grab his arm to get out of the bed without waking him up. You just couldn't text with another man when your husband was holding you in his arms. You quickly grab your robe and put it on before joining the kitchen and checking Javy's messages.

Hey It's been a while since I've heard from you

You stare at the texts and decide you shouldn't do this without a drink. You open the cabinet and take a bottle of red wine and a glass before pouring you a large drink. You take a few sips before texting back.

I know It's been too long I'm sorry

You take the glass in your hand after sending your last message and watch the little bubbles appear on the screen. Your heart pounds in your chest and you can almost feel the butterflies get crazy in your stomach.

Don't be, it's not your fault Kind of, yes... Well, it's not what I think What are you doing awake at that time anyway?

You take a new sip and contemplate telling him the truth. For once. You catch a glimpse of your wedding ring and freeze. You drop your phone on the counter and quickly take it off, putting it down beside your glass of wine before taking back your phone.

Couldn't sleep You still have insomnia?

For his part, Javy lost complete interest in what was happening around him when he saw your first text. He was a little bit drunk, having fun with his best friend at the local bar but the moment he saw your username interacting with his post and that beautiful smile on your profile picture, he even forgot his own name. He only knew he needed to talk to you. He'd spent years longing after you, regretting every single decision that could've led him to you breaking up with him. You left him in such a blurry space when you uttered those three words. This is over. First he thought you had met someone else but when he asked, you promised him that was not the case. Maybe he had been to needy in your relationship? Did you think he had been toxic? Lord, he hoped not.

No. Do you want to talk about it?

He knew something was on your mind if you couldn't sleep at this hour. He stares at the little bubbles on his screen, waiting patiently for your answer. He was still hoping to win you back, however long it would take, he was known for his patience.

Not over texts.

Javy's heart starts to pound in his chest and a goofy smile takes place on his face when you send him your address. He grabs his jacket and quickly says bye to Jake who was shamelessly making out with a brunette before leaving the bar. He jumps in his car and enters your address in the GPS. 17 minutes. He would see you again in 17 minutes.

Was that a good idea to see Javy in the middle of the night when you haven't seen him in years? Definitely not. But did you want to? Absolutely, you needed it. You wait patiently in your living room, emptying your glass of wine and checking your phone now and then to see if Javy sent you another text saying he was down the street. Not even 20 minutes later, your phone starts vibrating and an unknown caller is trying to reach you. You know it's Javy so you answer. "Hello?" You say, your voice weak and timid. "It's good to hear your voice." He immediately responds, you could practically hear the smile in his voice. "It's good to hear you too." You smile softly, wrapping your free arm around you. "I'm down the building but I don't see your name, can you open the door please?"

Of course, he couldn't find your name, you were married now. You clear your throat and look back to your bedroom, your husband was still sleeping deeply and you didn't want to run the risk waking him up and discovering Javy in your living room. "I'm coming down." You tell him and step out of your apartment, keeping the phone to your ear. "Alright, I'm waiting for you." The low rasp in his voice makes it irresistible and you want to swoon and run away with him. When you join the lobby, you can see him by the windows, waiting in the night. He must sense your gaze on him because he turns to you and freezes, a tender smile on his lips. "How can you look this pretty at 2am?" He asks through the phone and you can only focus on the way his lips move saying those words. You hang up the call and he chuckles lightly, sliding his phone in his pocket as you go to open the front door of the building, joining him outside. You wrap your arms around yourself at the fresh nightly breeze and he's quick to give you his jacket. You refuse it and ignore the flash of hurt passing through his eyes.

"It's good to see you." He says and you look away, feeling your cheeks blushing. "Likewise." You only say and you can hear him sigh quietly as he sinks his fists in his pockets. "So... What's happening? Why can't you sleep?" He tries to search for your gaze. "Why did you send me this text?" You ask him without really answering his own question. "You texted me first." He chuckles and you look into his dark eyes for the first time in years, making his chest clench. "Not tonight. Why did you text me this morning? Why did you want me to know you were in town?" You ask more explicitly. He sighs and rubs his face, looking for his next words. "I guess I just missed you. I just came back from a huge mission and I needed to tell someone I was back home. I didn't even know you still lived here." He shrugs and looks away. "Did you get hurt on this mission?" Now you're the one searching for his gaze. "No. I almost crashed during an exercise but I'm fine now. I promise." You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from asking for more information and only take his hand in yours. "I'm glad you're okay." You smile at him.

"I've missed you." He admits with a tender smile that could turn your legs into jelly. His brows furrow for a second and he opens his mouth. "You didn't tell me why you couldn't sleep." A sly smirk now takes place on his lips as if he knew the answer. He's pretty sure he now knew why but he wanted to hear you say it. When he catches sight of your cheeks blushing once more, he knows. He gently grabs your chin and tilts your head so he can look into your eyes. "Is it because of me?" He asks and you can't do anything else than simply nod. A more loving smile stretches his lips and he takes a step closer to you, invading your personal space. Too close, too close. But never close enough. You could see him leaning in dangerously, his eyes transfixed on your lips and wanting to taste them for the first time in years. You gently put your hand on his chest and tilt your head back. "I can't." You speak so softly Javy doesn't even know if he heard you or imagined it. Not being sure, he stops his movements and looks at you. "Why not?" His hand is now cupping your jaw and his thumb softly caressing your cheek. "I'm..." married. You can't say it, the words just won't come out of your mouth.

"I'm not sure I can love you the way I used to." You eventually say, grabbing his wrist and taking his hand off your face. He nervously licks his lips and looks away from your face. You could practically see the gears turning in his head. He wanted you, there was no doubt. But did you want him?

"I can teach you how to again. If you'll let me." He lifts your joined hands to his face and kisses the back of your hand. "When do you leave town?" You ask him and he smiles widely, feeling he almost won you back. "I'm on indefinite leave, my whole squad is after our last mission. They'll call us back in a few weeks I think." He could at least tell you that. You nod and look back at the building behind you, thinking about your husband sleeping in your shared bed. It wasn't fair to him. It wasn't fair to Javy. "Give me a week to sort out some things and I'll call you. I have your number now." You gently grab his face and stroke his cheekbones with your thumbs. "You deleted my number back then?" He asks, surprised but still with a smile on his face. You ignore his teasing and stand on your tip toes to reach for his face, placing a delicate kiss on his lips. He closes his eyes and enjoys the short second of your lips on his. "I'll see you next week." You whisper, your breath hitting Javy's lips.

"Give me one more... Please." He practically whimpers, his eyes still closed. You smile and wrap your arms around his neck, smashing your lips on his once again. This kiss is much more passionate and desperate than your first one. He's grabbing your hips like you're gonna disappear the moment he lets go of them. He even ends up wrapping his arms around you to keep you close. Your lips fit perfectly together, his teeth even nibbling at your bottom lip because he knows you like it. And he's not wrong, he pulls a small moan from your lips and your tongue slips between his parted lip to taste him. You feel his chest vibrating when he groans at the feeling and smile against his lips. You definitely want him.

You reluctantly pull back and place short kisses along his cheeks because you can't get enough of him. "I gotta go now. I'll call you, I promise. Let me take care of some stuff and I'll be all yours." You press a last kiss to his lips and try to get yourself out of his arms. "All mine? Promise?" He looks at you with a silly smile and sparks in his eyes. "Promise." You let go of his hand and go back inside the building, walking back to keep looking at Javy. he bites his bottom lips as he looks at you going back to your apartment, not even thinking you could go back to a sleeping husband.

taglist:

@hardballoonlove

@iliketopgun

@roosterforme

@jessicab1991

@atarmychick007

@hangmansgbaby

@els-marvelvsp

[httpknjoon]

quiet moments | ksj

plot | just a peaceful moment in the backyard of the a-listers' household.

word count | 630

genres | fluff, domestic au

pairing | actor!jin x famous!reader (also, pregnant!reader)

note | just something short and fluffy for the a-listers while I'm working for angst in my other series...

main masterlist | the a-listers: confidential masterlist

Sitting on the green grass of your spacious backyard, Jin strummed on his favorite acoustic guitar, humming to some melody he thought of, as you watched him. Your hand landed on your growing belly when you felt something in it.

“I think they like it. Maybe you should play something for us.” you grinned, teasing him.

Your husband looks up from you with his disheveled hair covering almost half his eyes. He smiled before strumming again. He cleared his throat. You felt your heart flutter as you heard a familiar song.

“To lead a better life, I need my love to be here…” he began singing.

It was The Beatles’ Here There and Everywhere. The song was one of the most sentimental songs for you and your relationship. It was the song your mother loved to play on her record player in the small apartment unit that you called home when you were younger. It was also the song you and Jin first slowly danced to as a married couple. In short, the song occupies a big place in your heart.

“Here, making each day of the year, changing my life with a wave of her hand, nobody can deny that there's something there.”

Jin looks at you as he sings every word from the song, taking a mental picture of you at this very moment. You were smiling softly with your hand rubbing your belly. Sunshine lights on you and your hair. You were glowing and ravishing with your most natural self, wearing no makeup and your most comfortable clothes. It’s crazy how he finds you more breathtaking each day he sees you. 

He felt butterflies playing around his stomach just by glancing at you. Quiet moments like this always take him back to the first time he met you, which was totally in contrast to this scene. It was a crowded, loud night of awards, filled with shining stars and flashing lights of Hollywood. He rarely enjoys those types of events but he always felt blessed to meet you there.

“I want her everywhere and if she beside me I know I need never care, but to love her is to need her everywhere…”

You swayed along to the tune, still listening quietly to Jin. He never sings in public. He jokes that he will just do it every day with or for you. And it makes you feel lucky that you get to be private will all these things going on between you and Jin. Growing up in front of the cameras, you always wished for something like this. Something quiet and peaceful, something that can make you at ease.

“I will be there and everywhere. Here, there and everywhere.” Jin ended and you clapped and cheered.

“Yay!”

You acted like a fan in a concert, making him chuckle. You clapped like a seal before you flinched, your hand instinctively resting on your tummy. You spoke, “Oh, come here. Give me your hand.”

Jin carefully laid his instrument on the space beside him and moved next to you. You reached for his hand and placed it on your belly. Jin’s lips formed into a small ‘o’ as he immediately felt the small movements.

“That’s a lot of kicks in there!” he gushed. Then, he looks at you, “Does it hurt?”

You shake your head with a grin, “Nope. Just a little discomfort but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Hearing that, your husband scoots closer to your tummy. His lips were closer to it and you can sense his warm breathing on your skin. He whispered, “Don’t cause too much pain to your mama, loves.”

You giggled, shaking your head with the scene, while he placed a soft kiss on the top of your belly.

taglist rules

THE A-LISTERS: CONFIDENTIAL TAGLIST

@xiumo @joonsbvtch @firesighgirl

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@dunixxd​ @cixrosie​ @jksjx​ @embrace-themagic​ @buttvi​ @starbtslove​ @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @miyukihoshi @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie

[astrxlfinale]

Head flat on the ever so dedicated trailblazer, coral locks would serve as the perfect phone support there they laid sprawled within the renovated room. Fresh sheets, geeky decorations as far as eyes could see (and Guinaifen could see a lot) and the sound of his tapping had his firekiss' arms tightening around his waist as she'd fully emerge herself in the role of a human blanket, head turning to nudge the back of his phone ever so slightly. It wasn't meant to disturb him, no, quite the contrary. Guinaifen was merely making herself more comfortable against his frame, completely unwilling to move away now.

Had finality set its tracks here, she would've gladly rested here forever. It wouldn't have bothered her at all.

"Do you think the express will ever make it to Court Camelot?" she'd eventually hum, fingers tracing the side of Caelus' waist as eyes would close themselves on the room around them. It was a silly question, of course, but of all people that seemed to hold knowledge of the planets beyond the one she 'remained on', Caelus was the most forward one. "I know you guys probably don't travel like that, but if you ever make it to Court Camelot, would you take me with you?"

Turning once again, face would shift downwards, nuzzling against the scent of Caelus. As nostalgic the thought of her home planet was, she was more than okay with the new one she had found within him.

"I know that I'm not a great fighter or anything, I'd p r o b a b l y be more in the way than anything else," Guinaifen uttered with a chuckle. "But, no matter the state of my home, there's no one else I'd want to be side by side with as I find my way back, and there's no one else I'd ever want to bring back home. You don't have to promise anything, just.. a small yes or no would be enough, really."

For in the end, she'd have him.

That would be enough.

To think she'd find her solace of refuge upon a catalyst and calamity alike. A Stellron's light, the advent of endings was drawn into the impossible. Through those long limbs and her loving heart, she'd dare to remain by that very sun and bask in the warmth through every thread of chaos. All this time, that old, dusted cardboard box he fondly slept in turned out to be the curse all along. Getting this whole damn room together feels worth it in more ways than one.

Seeing the rolling waves of coral blend with red, to feel those ticklish breaths directly against his chest, Caelus once again was rewriting what 'true peace' meant. Each foe upon his game found themselves doomed by the penultimate buff. His goddamn girlfriend, and the incredible mood her presence never failed to put him in.

"Lil bastard finally--- yes, go to hell." He'd victoriously murmur. Watching that apparition disappear amidst the sea of butterflies struck a bonafied sweet spot. And maybe Guinaifen knew that as well, a curious question, one enriched by hope and a desire for the past found itself bringing to the forefront. Just hearing the sound of her maiden home is what opted the phone's screen to go dark, the instrument carelessly tossed to the side (and accidentally off the edge of the bed) as he listened in.

"Guinaifen.." Uncertainty naturally drives itself in as a possibility. Both his inexperience as a seasoned Trailblazer, and the very depth of this wish, a big one. The Stellaron soul within found itself slowly nudged awake, as if that cursed light was equally attentive of the woman's wishes. It lead the Trailblazer's hand to traverse upon terrain he finds familiar as she roosts. Those gloved hands worked along the back of her head, combing down with carefully made brushes as she painted the picture.

How this very present would give her the courage to face the past.

"You do kinda suck at that line of business." The admittance is practically silly amidst her heartfelt confessions. Yet, here he was drawing his other arm around her, tightening that hold as if holding one of Camelot's last holy maidens akin to a treasure. Any such details didn't draw to light as the reason.

Caelus loves her. Simple as that.

"But that's what I'm here for. If you wanna make a journey, it'd be a new position, but I certainly don't mind being one hell of a knight."

She'd find that unspoken promise sealed by the tender touch of his lips. A soft mesh of affection and another building block to her inner flame being offered. His fingers would splay across her back, while the other settled carefreely along the side of her hip. "Truth be told, after learning we can take detours, it's something I can see in the cards now. Originally, I thought the Star Rail was gonna be some annoyin' thing that just hits a loop already of places already explored."

"--And even if it isn't? Then to hell with it, the Nameless find a way to chart the course their damn selves. So that's what I'll do."

What's one more Lost Kingdom in the span of this odyssey? There just happens to be a special brand of purpose tailored and tied to it.

@avaere

[unikittybigbrightworldau]

🥰 (For all of them!)

🥰 - What would make you feel happy and loved?

Unikitty: A nice, warm cup of tea, some cookies fresh out the oven, and all my best friends right there at my side!

Puppycorn: Lots of yummy food on the table, and fun hangouts with everybody I know!

Dr. Fox: Encyclopedias, experiments, and web surfing to feed my curiosity, as well as lab partners to experiment with!

Hawkodile: When everyone around me is safe, and I get to relax with a soft blanket curled around me.

Richard: A nice, peaceful day with everyone truly seeing me. That’s all I ask for.

Swanna: Going on walks all around the kingdom with my besties!

Lee: Turning up some upbeat music and dancing.

Eagleator: I’d have to say… reuniting with all my old dojo family… I’ve been lonely these past few years…

Pheasala: Meeting up with my family to be as loud and proud as possible!

Pepper: When other people message me, and we chat, roleplay, or share things that we’ve drawn or written. It really tells me I’m not alone.

Mabel: When my family or buddies reassure me, or tell me they like what I do. I appreciate it when they remind me not to give up. I’ve still got so much to do!

Score Creeper: Playing board games or outdoor games with whoever wants to join me. Maybe I’ll trap their souls, maybe not.

Master Frown: Honestly? Just sitting on the couch and making fun of dumb stuff on TV.

Brock: Kicking back with some snacks and playing my favorite video games. Playing co-op or online always helps when I’m down.

Imogen: Curling up in bed with my sister and looking outside the window. Maybe even using our telescope.

Estelle: Cuddling with my sister, looking out the window or up at the stars. If we can, we’ll have sleepovers with our troop mates.

Master Cupid: …That isn’t a boyfriend? Oh, um… someone who will like me? As in, like, really like me?

Germafrost: Hugging a plush toy of a sheep that Unikitty gave me, and spending time with my family.

Neapolitan: Playing in the snow, whether it’s by myself or with people I know. If someone’s there, we can tell each other stories to make us smile.

Piano: Taking baths, doing my wool, and being comforted by my loved ones. And, when they listen to me play music for them.

Sgt. Wolf: Tearing the place up with my pack. Those ice cream guards wanna make sure everybody’s safe and happy, including me. I’ve actually been enjoying myself with them, and Germafrost and Piano have helped me get settled in.

Floela: When people show me pictures of butterflies they found. They say that whenever they see a butterfly, they think of me, and the feeders on my house!

Waterlily: Spending time in the garden, in my room working on an art project, or in the steam pool with someone who will be there for me when I need it.

Shelltop: When my family and my teammates check in on me. It always feels good to get things off my chest. We celebrate every win we have.

Spike: Spending every moment I have with the people I care about. They come to see me, they care for me, and they help me stay afloat. I also feel less alone when I’m called up by the people I’ve done a show with.

Marcella: Knowing that there are people in this world that would protect me with their lives. Right back at them.

Cream: Staying close with my family and all my friends, trying out new things with them, and ending the day with delicious sweets!

Kira: Caring for all the animals I see near my tree! They try to nuzzle me with their noses! I also love doing fun things with Fern and Mimi!

Allegra: Being comforted by my Mama, Papa, sisters, and closest friends. They sit down with me on cozy chairs, and we laugh and sing together.

Bia: When my caretaker and my dad make me homemade acorn puffs and let me sit down with comics.

Zora: Any time I have the chance to visit my father and my friends, or at least check in on them somehow. Anything I do, I do it for them.

The Petalstones: Taking breaks and being with our families and closest friends, but still keeping in touch with each other.

Dusty: Going out with my neighbors and colleagues to collect rocks, pebbles and gems, and playing skipping stones with them.

Dr. Bunny: Whenever people, regardless of how well I know them, or if I know them, help me with small things, or give me a compliment, or say hello to me when I’m walking by.

Snowfox: Knowing that I’m still here with what I’ve still got.

Trey: Receiving great gifts from the people in my village! My mothers help me sort them! It reminds me of how many caring people there are out there!

[philhoffman]

This week’s Monday Philm is Jack Goes Boating (2010), directed by Philip Seymour Hoffman.

I can’t say how relieved I was that this happened to be this week’s movie. The anniversary of Phil’s death last week wrecked me all over again and brought up a lot of complicated feelings and I felt pretty isolated from him, so for a few days I’ve been trying to find my way back. Jack Goes Boating is his labor of love in every way, made with his closest loved ones, from his LAByrinth family to his Mimi as the costume director to his very own production company. It’s easy to find him again here.

We talk a lot about how Phil never did a “traditional” romcom and what a shame that is (it is!), but the more I fall in love with Jack Goes Boating, the less I mind. He was never a conventional actor and this funny, awkward, earnest love story is more true to his heart than any mainstream picture could ever be. I really felt for Jack on this viewing, felt his emotions so strongly. When he’s sitting in the hospital waiting room, koala on his knee, preparing himself to visit Connie alone—I can feel the butterflies, that churning anxiety, wanting to see someone but feeling so nervous and wanting to be good and right for them. His meltdown at the dinner party, that wave of massive rage and frustration covering up for plain sadness and disappointment, adrenaline racing through your body you can only shake and tremble and try not to put your fists through everything you see. The embarrassment, the fear.

I love this soundtrack. “Peace Piece” by Bill Evans is my favorite jazz song in the world, if not my favorite song period, and I’ve developed quite a history with it. Hearing it as the credits rolled the first time I watched JGB, sobbing my eyes out. A few months later, listening to it while making pancakes in the kitchen past midnight, suddenly overwhelmed by Phil’s influence on my life and all the beauty and art and love I’ve found because of him. Further still, it played in Madison Square Garden before a concert I’d traveled to NYC to see, listening to it with thousands of people and thinking of Phil and everything that brought us to that moment. It’s a good song, is all. 

Jack Goes Boating is a directorial debut and maybe it is not the most perfect and polished film in the world but it’s honest. It is New York City and koala bears and the transit authority and saying yes, I will be hurt by you, and getting hurt and real bodies and nervous tics and Fleet Foxes and awkward conversation and kissing in the snow because sometimes that really happens. “Take me, yeah, I want you to take me, c’mon, take me.” He is really so beautiful.

Phil was so looking forward to his next opportunity to direct a film. He really fell in love with the job. He deserved the chance to explore it more. 

[westriverpeacegarden]

July News & Updates: Visit With Solar Youth, Ongoing Work-Days, Peace Garden in the Media

Dear Friend��of the Peace Garden,

I wanted to wish you a happy summertime and provide a few updates about the Peace Garden:

No Advisory Committee Meeting Tonight - Next Meeting August 22, 6pm

The West River Peace Garden Advisory Committee will not meet tonight as several core members (including me) have conflicts. We will meet on Thursday, August 22 at 6pm. Zoom information will be included in the August newsletter. We will be seeing a presentation developed by Paul Bloom and Jerry Poole about possible future improvements to the Garden -- hope you can make it.

Peace Garden Work-Days Every Friday, 9:30-11am

The garden is looking very nice -- lots of things are in full bloom, including our purple coneflower, bee balm, orange butterfly weed, and rose of sharon -- and we continue to work every Friday morning to maintain and enhance the garden, from 9:30-11am. It is important that we have at least 2-3 volunteers attend each work-day so that we can continue our collaboration with Urban Resources Initiative (URI). You can show up for all or part of the time. Pictured below is our summer URI intern Avery, who is doing a masterful job!

Also, now that we are in the middle of the summer heat, we need additional watering done during the week -- please let us know if you can come ANY DAY of the week (at your own convenience) to water the flowers and new plantings.

Finally, note that there will be a bus tour of different URI greenspaces on Thursday, August 8 -- all greenspace volunteers are welcome to attend, just sign up at this link.

Recap of Meeting With Solar Youth on July 25

We welcomed a wonderful group of Solar Youth summer campers to the garden on July 25, and got a chance to talk with them about how a peaceful world and a healthy environment are inextricably connected. Frank P. told the story of how we got our Hiroshima 'survivor tree' (grown from the seed of a ginkgo that survived the atomic bombing on August 6, 1945) and Millie led a discussion on the many different meanings and manifestations of peace at home and abroad.

And thanks to the youth for their help with watering! Come back anytime! (Check our social media for more photos of the Solar Youth visit.)

Peace Garden in the Media!

The Peace Garden was featured in this article in the New Haven Independent by Allan Appel about our ongoing efforts to bring more resources to the Garden so that we can elevate it to its full potential. Click here for the full story, and please share with your networks!

Aaron also got a chance to talk about the Peace Garden (albeit briefly) in this segment on WNPR's morning radio program "Where We Live" that featured New Haven Riverkeeper Peter Davis and his tireless efforts to clean up the West River watershed. Take a listen.

Finally, be sure to check out (and share!), if you haven't already, this great article in the New Haven Independent, “Gardeners Grow the Peace in West River,” from earlier this year about our work with the students and the vision for peace that animates our stewardship of the Peace Garden.

West River Memorial Park Renewal Grant

We are excited to announce that the West River Watershed Coalition, of which we are a partner, was awarded a National Parks Service Rivers, Trails and Conservation Assistance grant for 2024-25. This one year grant, “West River Memorial Park Renewal,” gives the Coalition and its partners and the City of New Haven Parks and Public Works Department, the City of West Haven, and the Urban Resources Initiative technical assistance to renew and promote West River Memorial Park so that more New Haveners, West Haveners, and people of all ages and abilities may enjoy the natural beauty and recreational features of the park.

We will be represented on the steering committee that is working with the National Park Service to implement the grant. Questions about this? Ideas for renewing West River Memorial Park and making it more accessible and better connected with the Peace Garden? Contact us!

_______________________ Thanks for your ongoing support and we hope to see you soon at the Garden!

Aaron G.

Friends of the West River Peace Garden 

facebook.com/westriverpeacegarden

westriverpeacegarden.org

[leonbloder]

You Are Here To Risk Your Heart

Most of the inspiration for my Daily Devos comes from my reading. When I read, I constantly underline or highlight passages that speak to me, and then I put those highlighted quotes in a file on my computer. 

Sometimes, I journal these quotes or think about them deeply outside the writing context. But when the time feels right, I typically reflect on them here, with all of you. 

I read a quote from author Louise Erdrich some time ago, which I filed away and have been pondering ever since. For some reason, today feels like the day to write about it. 

Here's the first part of the quote: 

How many of us resonate with this quote? I know that I do. Life breaks you sometimes. The good news is that being broken isn't forever, but when it happens, it sure feels like it will be. 

The temptation that most of us have at that point is to withdraw, but solitude in all of its forms won't keep us from breaking, nor will it allow us to heal completely. 

The only thing that will bring healing is to open ourselves up to the risk of being broken.  Like Erdrich says, we were not meant to die without risking our hearts over and over again.  

I don't know about you, but when I am on my deathbed, I don't just want to say that I lived; I want to say that I was alive.  

Which brings me to the second part of his amazing quote by Erdrich: 

And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness.  Tell yourself that you tasted as many as you could. 

There's something about that last bit that sparks my imagination.  I can picture myself on a hillside apple orchard, looking out over spectacular fall scenery and watching apples fall around me.  

You can see this through the lenses of scarcity, lack, trepidation or abundance, openness, and courage.  

Do we dare live so that we do everything we can to taste as much of life as possible, even though we will get our hearts broken, or do we guard our hearts, protecting them from pain and feeling any amount of true joy? 

It seems an easy choice sitting here right now.

But when the memories of old hurts and the familiar ache of betrayal, brokenness, and loss return, it's far easier to put up our guard, build the walls, and do what we can to keep the world at bay. 

If this sounds like a familiar pattern, don't feel bad.  We all struggle with this to some extent, some more than others.  You are not alone. 

We also have to consider that it would lose its novelty if every day were Christmas. So, every day is not all butterflies and rainbows. Some days are filled with hard things. 

But we can experience more joy daily if we are vulnerable enough to live heart-forward. 

This might look like being vulnerable enough to admit you are not okay.  You might also have to rediscover the gratitude you can feel from occasionally letting other people care for you.  

And all of this is worth the risk of brokenness because how else will we live as though we are truly alive?  

May we all adopt a heart-forward outlook, determined to live every day to the fullest, embracing the many gifts and lessons it brings.  

And may the grace and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with us now and always. Amen.  

[hannahraehum]

My Manifesto: View Life Through Rose-Tinted Glasses.

Stop and Smell the Roses… Please!

After reviewing my previous posts from the beginning of the class semester in late June to the most recent post of just yesterday, August 5th, I have noted the pattern throughout my blogs. Ever since I was a small kid I was taught to view life around you with a careful eye or it will whiz by. The perfectly shaped heart pool of water beneath your sweating cup could be easily dismissed, and quickly passed over, but if given a few moments to gaze at the average person would be surprised how beautiful the world is around them. A butterfly or moth is just that to some, but watch her for a while and you may capture her taking a rest on a leaf or landing on your shoe before she takes off to her next destination. My manifesto is all about taking it all in, the good and the bad is all beautiful and something to learn from. View life through the lens of an artist and suddenly it's not so mundane.

During the review of my manifesto, I urge the viewer to listen to the soundtrack of my eighth post, titled The Sound of the Rainbow. Within it is six completely different songs to give a taste test of many genres and decades all under the theme of color. As you pass through the rainbow beginning with the first two shades of red and yellow, you may review two of my blog posts. The first is “Punta Gorda Sculptures” in which I share with the reader a slice of beauty from my hometown. My post covers the striking sculpture “Calostimucu,” a Native American head that represents great power and honor. Thousands drive by him each day off the port charlotte highway 41 bridge, he’s seen many through his 50 years of sitting there. What he represents to every passer byer will be different, the emotions he brings forth may be sadness, strength, honor, pride, or wonder. The next art piece in the post is “Ostriches” and the tower over a road in the Peace River Botanical Gardens. The man and woman loom over in their fancy red clothes, making the viewer feel small compared to the mighty giants. At this point, the song Red by Chevelle should overlap as you view my post and ponder over the pictures of the sculpture. Perhaps, passion or strength may pump up your energy while you consider the pisces of artwork.

When Orange plays by Zach Bryant you may review the post titled Casablanca and Lost in Translation in which I review these two films and analyze them. I want individuals to exit a film with more questions than answers, every movie and video should make the viewer intrigued even after the credits roll. Casablanca is an old film, but the cinematography has influenced so many after it. Many shows and films after it have referenced great and classic films. The plot may raise questions, like what would you do in the role of the main character, and have you ever had to give up a person you love for the greater good. The other film I analyze is an all-time favorite film for me, it represents a time in my life when loneliness ruled all and this film was my therapy. Has the reader ever had a relationship that existed only as a life lesson even if they existed in your timeline for a brief moment? What does aging mean to the reader, is it something beautiful or is it scary.

For the song Yellow, you will stop to smell the roses of my post titled Ekphrasis of the Kiss. In this post, I reviewed the stunning painting by one of my favorite artists, Gustav Klimt. I wanted to create an alternate point of view of the woman in the painting, even if it’s different from what Klimt intended. To me that is the beauty of art, otherwise, every piece of work would have instructions to read it. My manifesto urges the reader to view the painting and come up with how it makes them feel, and what the colors and textures suggest to you. Is it comforting, romantic, glamorous, suffocating, or empty? How does it relate to the viewer's psyche and life? My poem will not strike a chord with every reader, to some, the poem may be about how there is a pain in all romantic relationships, to others it may be about how some women experience men taking something from them without full consent.

An interpretation by a Ukraine photographer named Andrey Kezzyn 2022.

For the songs Green Light and Blue on Blue, the posts Unintentionally Picturesque and Ever is Over All come to mind. The prior is a post all about stopping to smell the roses via photographs taken by me. I walk the reader through five photos taken in various places in which I captured a visually beautiful moment that I didn't want to forget. Starting with the interior of a Kansas art museum, then a mini-golf course in Fort Myers, Florida, a lakeside dock in Kansas, an art museum in Sarasota, Florida, and a park in Estero, Florida. Can the viewer imagine being a part of the photos, what sounds and textures do they feel. At the Kansas art museum, the echoing sounds of discussion and small children screaming as they play, cutlery hitting the table, and soft cafe-style music playing over speakers. Can you feel the texture of the last photo, the dead oak leaves crunching beneath your feet and the soft moss hanging from the grand oak overhead? For the next post, I analyze the art film by Pipliotti Rist called Ever is Over All. The film can have many interpretations and the appreciation for what it could mean comes from inside. Reading my interpretation, what does the reader think when faced with difficult ideas like natural disaster being inevitable or being swallowed by a tsunami. The reader may find a strange comfort in knowing one day the world will revert to wild nature, the buildings and cars covered in sprawling plants and insects. 

The last song is a wild card, “Purple People Eater” is a Halloween classic and I think couples perfectly with my short story post called The Last Yupperknuffle which follows a made-up creature that is struggling to survive. Inspired by children's books and films, I want the reader to transport themselves to childhood wonder when the real world seemed light years away. Can you imagine the Yupperknuffle in your arms or the pain of being alone without its family? I was strongly inspired by the film called the Last Unicorn which came out in the 1970s and was based on a children's novel of the same title. It follows a Unicorn who is the last of her kind and her journey to find answers. I think as adults we can try to stray away from what it was like to be a kid, lost yet having fun and exploring. I urge the viewer to relate to their younger selves by doing what they used to love to do, like coloring books, and legos, playing outside, and finding fun shells at the beach. 

This concludes my manifesto with the overarching theme of taking it all in, stopping to truly feel and connect with the art around you. I have found that this class made me think and analyze a lot more than I had imagined and I’m urging others around me to do the same. I have shared and read my posts with some of my family and loved seeing their reactions. Some of the assignments made me quite surprised by my interpretations and analysis’ like the Ekphrasis when I had to create a poem. Suddenly, the idea and words came to me quite easily and I felt proud about how it turned out. In the end, my manifesto is about appreciating the world around you and not getting caught up in mundane patterns. Your knowledge is power and greatness can come from even the smallest actions!

[beetleskeleton]

Oh? Ohohoh~? Fluff you say? How does some date night fluff sound?

Photographer - How does a quiet night out beneath the stars sound? Admiring the wildlife and observing the shift as each creature rises and rests... How the fireflies frame you in it's picture perfectly... It's a beautiful sight caught on film~

Unfinished Boss - What about exploring different art mediums? Letting your hearts guide the creation of your pieces... Working together and their claw gently guides your hand... A memento of a delightful evening!

Archivist - Perhaps you'd like a quiet night in together? Cuddling up all nice and cozy as you just talk and listen to eachother's stories... Feeling her speakers rumble so close as she narrates each tale... Dreaming in eachother's hold~

G0lly - Or maybe you're up for infodumping to eachother? Choosing one of your favourite topics at random and presenting it to the other... Sharing the things you love with the person you love... An exciting yet educational time!

-🐭

 Sdjwbowdobjndwln

I am going absolutely feral for these rat thank you

Here is da drabble

I gave you an Eloist one, but if you want something specific don’t be afraid to let me know <3

And I also have your next assignment for the uberbots up and ready whenever you are willing to do it: Pet names + putting them into practice (i.e dialogue).

—

“So the hummingbird hawk moth is a more common pollinator amongst moths. But not as common or well-known as the many species of bees or butterflies in terms of popularity, despite the fact that moths outweigh those numbers tenfold. With that being the…” As the Archivist’s partner droned on and on about moths and other insects he found interesting, the Archivist herself listened intently. The two were kept close to each other, such was a comfortable and familiar position for them to be in. The Archivist couldn’t help but admire how knowledgeable her partner was on entomology, it was also so adorable to watch whenever he got excited about seeing a new insect as the days grew warmer. 

“The knowledge you have on insects is impressive, dear. Have you ever been interested in studying entomology?” She queried, and Elowen blinked at her once in slight surprise before responding. “I most certainly have, though the most I got to do was in a 4-H project I only did for a couple years which wasn’t as long as I had hoped compared to other projects I did for much longer.” There was a tone of disappointment as he spoke, showing how he was slightly bitter about not being introduced to it sooner. However, Elowen simply shrugged his shoulders soon after, “It’s fine though. I am perfectly content with finding information on my own rather than letting a summer project hand hold my way through it.”

The Archivist nodded slowly, hanging on his every word. “You seem to do significantly better learning things independently rather than a task requiring you to do as such. I admire that about you, dearest.” A small smirk forms on the Archivist’s screen as she leans in closer. “Plus, with all of this colossal knowledge I may as well start calling you ‘lovebug’~” A wobbly smile makes its way onto Elowen’s features, a bright blush turning his face a lighter red. “I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea..” The bot gently presses her screen against the side of her partner’s face, mimicking that of a kiss. Elowen leaned himself into the artificial kiss, a gesture he did with affection he was comfortable and familiar with. 

He nestled himself back against the Archivist, feeling content as she wrapped her arm around him. There was a comfortable silence between the two for a while, with them both basking in the peace of each other’s company. “So to continue your discussion of pollination.” The Archivist said suddenly, and Elowen was quick to pick up where he left off. “Oh yeah! So because of how some species are more efficient than others…” And so the ranting starts up all over again, but the Archivist didn’t mind. That just meant she could spend more time listening to her beloved partner’s interests and excitement.    

[ddejavvu]

mei </3

lifeguard/camp counselor steve :( where you work together every summer and fall in love :(

thank u honey ily

today is multiverse monday! send me any au you can think of :)

i was fully prepared to stop writing mvm asks out of creative exhaustion but then i remember this was still in my inbox and i simply. changed. i love u for this please kiss me. also one time i did fall in love with a fellow camp counselor and she gave me her nUmber and i haven't uSed it i'm too pUssy but i literally think abt her all the time i have so many pictures of us together and she was the coolest person i've ever met and i want to kiss her and thank you for listening :)

--

"God, look at him," Steve gestures roughly to Dustin who's having a rather hard time getting the hang of skipping rocks, "Hey, dummy! Throw it off of the water, not into the water."

A frown overtakes your face at Steve's harsh teasing. You know he doesn't mean it, you know he's bantering with the younger boy, but you don't know how to skip rocks either, and his ridicule is making you self conscious.

"Oh, I'm the dummy?" Dustin starts, his camp t-shirt tied at his hip because there had only been too-large sizes when he got there, "You incinerated your marshmallow last night! It's supposed to melt onto the chocolate, not disintegrate!"

"Well you-"

"Steve!" You cut in, suddenly desperate for peace and quiet amongst your embarrassingly saddening thoughts, "Leave him alone."

Steve notices the dull to your voice, where usually it would have been bubbly or giggle-filled. He lets his momentary animosity towards Dustin go, turning to you with a slight frown as he adjusts his socks against his calves, "Hey, something wrong?"

"You're so mean to him." You huff, though you don't mean to make that the root of the issue, "Leave the kid alone."

Your grumpy grumbles have Steve frowning even deeper, remembering all of the times that you'd joined in on the banter between them. He knows that's not the problem, he sees your fingers hook under the hem of your sock to fiddle with it, sees your nails skim over an itchy mosquito bite as you struggle to find something to fidget with.

"Hey, you." Steve pokes gently at your side when you turn away from him, "Not done talking to you."

"You weren't talking to me in the first place," You point out, and he digs his teeth into his bottom lip.

"What's the matter?"

"He doesn't have to be perfect at skipping rocks." You huff, "Not everyone is perfect at everything. 'Doesn't mean you have to call them stupid."

It dawns on Steve that you're speaking through Dustin, and his eyes soften as a swarm of butterflies ravage his chest. How can you be so grumpy, yet so endearing?

"Y/N," He starts, placing a hand on your shoulder and celebrating silently when you don't flinch away, "Do you not know how to skip rocks?"

You groan when you realize he's caught you, muttering angrily, "Well, 's not like it's a life skill. It's stupid."

"Come on." Steve doesn't hesitate before stuffing a few decently weighted pebbles into his pocket, taking your hand in his and hauling you up off the boulder you'd been sitting on, "I'm teaching you right now."

"No, Steve-!" You try wriggling out of his grasp, hellbent on stewing in your momentary humiliation, but he's stronger than you, and he yanks you onto solid ground. You stumble, land right in his chest, and he stares down fondly at you.

"You're not dumb for not knowing how. I'm gonna teach you, you'll be the best rock skipper this side of.. whatever ocean we're the closest to."

You let out an involuntary giggle at his poor attempt at consoling you, but you mold your lips into a forced frown in an attempt to regain your stubborn air.

"Grumpy," He speaks at a low octave, furrows his brows and pushes out his lips into an over-accentuated pout to overexaggerate your own, "Come on, Y/N, it's rock skippin' time."

[ichijager13]

Finally home

You finally convinced your boyfriend Oda sakunosuke to buy a house near the ocean and move in with the kids to start a new life together.

You were standing next to the step ladder on top of which he was, you looked up smiling at the tall man fixing the curtain rod. You handed him the ivory-white curtain you chose for the living room. You can’t believe you are finally done. You bought this cottage about a year ago and started renovating it step by step. With the money you both put aside it wasn’t that hard. You have done most of the work yourselves asking for professional help only for rebuilding the porch, changing plumbing and electricity. You have decided to take it slow and enjoy the process and some of his friends offered to help from time to time.

When he was finally done, he stood behind you holding you in his arms admiring the results of months and months of work.

“We’ve done it”. He breathed against your ear.

You nodded smiling, “Our house”. You whispered overwhelmed. You put your hands on top of his and embraced the sight offered to you. The red of the fireplace’s bricks, the chunky grey throw that rested on the ivory couch. Pictures of Kousuke, Katsumi, Yu, Shinji and Sakura decorated the wall next to your bookshelves. The room was spacious but that didn’t prevent it from being warm and cozy. The French windows occupying two walls bathed the place in soft light. Feeling the steady rhythm of your lover’s heartbeat you closed your eyes and let the moment imprint you.

You felt Sakunosuke’s head rest on your shoulder, you smiled and turned to face him. “Finally”. He sealed your lips kissing you softly. The sound of the waves crashing against the rock the house was built on top of, the smell of salt floating in the air and the sunlight drawing shapes and shadows on your frames. If heaven exists it must resemble this moment.

He was still kissing you when you remembered the kids haven’t visited your home yet. When you parted you turned and placed both hands around his shoulder. Faces merely close and lips reaching for each other, you let yourself melt in his embrace. When he kisses you again your heart skips a beat. No matter how many times you had him like this it will always feel like you are brought back to life each time your lips connect. “The kids will love it”. You spoke against his lips. “Especially the swing and the tree house in the backyard”. He nodded smiling as well.

“I’m glad I listened to you and purchased this cottage”. He rested his forehead against yours. “Thank you, darling. This all became possible thanks to your support”.

You buried one of your hands in his red lokes. “It became possible because of our hard work”. You emphasized the word ‘our’. “Besides, it’s you who gave me hope that both of us can have the peaceful life we have always sought. Thanks to you I know I deserve to be happy”. You hugged him tighter. “Thank you, honey”.

He shook his head, “You’re the one who saved me not the opposite”. The day you met Odasaku he was sitting at a table in the café you used to work at. He was lost in his thoughts after a brief exchange with a middle-aged man.

You placed a piece of cake on his table. “I haven’t ordered anything”. He said looking at you confused. The moment your eyes met, he felt butterflies all over his stomach and everything that surrounded him went slow.

You smiled kindly. “It’s a gift, nothing a good chocolate cake can’t fix”. Your smile was the most breathtaking thing his eyes landed on. Your smile must be one of the wonders of the world, otherwise, nothing would make sense in this dark twisted world. It was your smile that made him understand why the sun rises every day, why rainbows appear, why the sky is blue and why flowers blossom. All good things happened because in a café in the middle of some city in Japan worked a beautiful young lady with an angelic smile. “Do you mind if I join you?” you asked face blushing and eyes looking down. “My shift is about to end and I…”. you were stumbling over your words. “I thought you… you might use some company”. You looked up a shy smile adorning your features. He slowly nodded. You went to the locker room; you took off your apron and hung it. You glanced at the small mirror, you detached your hair and smoothed it. You took a place at the stranger’s table. His blue eyes were fixed on you, you don’t know why but you felt like the weight of the world was crushing the man’s shoulders. His eyes were cold and empty like there was nothing but void behind them. You wondered what kind of things someone as young as him has experienced to have such a vacant stare.

While lost in his eyes he pushed the cake into the middle of the table. “Care to share it with me?” his deep voice resonated through your soul. You accepted his offer with a smile. He told you about the book he spent the last months reading over and over. He told you about his new dream, he wants to be a novelist he said. He didn’t say what he does for a living or mention if he has a family or someone somewhere waiting for him to come back. All he spoke about was the world he wanted to write about and the stories he wanted to narrate. And you found it endearing how a stranger was telling you about his dreams and fears.

“Sorry I monopolized the conversation. I haven’t even asked what your name is”. Reaching his hand for you he spoke. “Let’s start all over again, I’m Oda Sakunosuke and I am pleased to meet you”. your hand met his at the middle of the table introducing yourself. He pronounced your name once, twice three times smiling the last time. “Such a beautiful name”. your chest felt tighter and your cheeks were burning, you darted your gaze away. You remained silent for minutes before he asked questions about you. what you like, whether you had dreams or not, family and what you do with your free time. And the conversation went on and on and on until you heard the owner clearing his throat.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your conversation kids, but it’s late and I must close”. He spoke to Odasaku. “Make sure the young lady arrives home safe”.

“You can count on me, sir”. He answered. You wished your boss and co-worker good night and left with Oda. On the walk home, you picked up your conversation where you left it. By the time you arrived, you grew familiar with each other.

“That’s where I live”. You were shifting your weight from one foot to another wondering if he might kiss you before leaving. “I gotta go, thank you for walking me home”. You smiled; he doesn’t remember how many times you made his heart flutter smiling like this.

“Thank you for the cake and the lovely evening”. He was wondering if he should shake your hand. No that’s so awkward after all the time we spent together he scolded himself. Maybe I can give her a hug, or leave a kiss on her cheek. He didn’t know what to do. He knows he has to cease his chance but he wasn’t sure if you could cope with the life he leads. You were still standing looking up at him with soft eyes. He leaned and planted a kiss on your forehead. “Good night y/n, I hope we can meet again”. His voice was low and deep. You breathed in his scent and tried to memorize the tone of his voice. He didn’t leave until you got to your apartment. You turned one last time and waved goodbye before closing your apartment’s door.

One month later he showed up at your workplace holding a bouquet of flowers. You were in the back shop for your pause.

When the owner saw him, he smiled. “She’s eating, should I call her?” he glanced at his watch. “She will be back in minutes”.

Oda shook his head. “It’s alright I’ll wait”. You haven’t noticed him right away when you came back. You went to his table to take his order thinking he was a customer.

“Good afternoon, sir; what can I get you”. you asked smiling.

When he looked back at you your breath caught, holding a hand to your mouth you searched for your words but nothing came out.

“I would like to have a date”. He simply said handing you the flowers. “I’ll pick you up this evening if you don’t mind”. Still surprised you nodded eagerly.

After that first date came along other firsts. First embrace, first kiss, first night and love confessions. And now you were standing in the middle of your house in his arms savoring his lips.

“I love you Sakunosuke”. You whispered feeling him smiling against your neck. And sooner the smile became a kiss and the kiss became a soft bit. Regular breathing became heavier, heart rate faster and kisses slopier. His hands were everywhere, caressing, molding and kneading your soft skin. His hair became a mess thanks to your hands and the buttons of his black shirt discarded. He only detached his lips from yours to take off your blouse giving himself access to your cleavage. He freed one breast from your bra’s cup and rubbed the nub with his thumb and index causing you to gasp. Your hands were trailing up and down his large back and toned torso caressing and kissing each scar. He brought back his lips to yours and guided you to the couch. He laid on top of you after getting rid of both of your pants.

“We are finally home”. He spoke as you cupped his cheek and smiled at him. with one expert hand he unclasped your bra. He dragged his mouth from on top of yours along your neck, pausing to nibble your earlobe and earning a soft moan from your now glistening and swollen lips. Then moved to your shoulders leaving marks behind him down to your chest. He run his tongue in the valley between your breasts and then circled and tilted each nipple until they became hard. Lifting his head slightly ‘til your gazes locked he parted his lips and captured one of your nipples with his teeth.

“Sakunosuke”. You moaned when he started sucking your now sensitive nipple. The sound in the background and his mouth made the experience ethereal. With each swipe of his tongue, you felt like were dead and then brought back to life. Your cheeks were red and burning, your eyelids felt heavy and your breathing grow harder with each passing second. Surprised your back arched when two fingers slide past your wet folds. The movement caused your breasts to bounce in a way that caused him to twitch in his briefs.

“So pretty”. He breathed watching you reacting to his digits inside of you. “And so wet for me”. He curled his fingers brushing your sweet spot causing your last bit of sanity to shatter and wash away.

When you finally rode out of your euphoria you tugged at his arm. “Let’s stay here honey”. He pulled himself out of you, brought the blanket that was on the other couch and laid next to you. He shoved you closer until half of your body was on top of his after cleaning you. Chest pressed against his and one of your thighs placed between his legs, he covered your nudity with the blanket. You nuzzled his neck and closed your eyes. “When will you bring the kids to live here with us?” you inquired.

“Tomorrow morning, I wanna spend the rest of the day alone with you”.

“Let’s remain like this forever”. You asked.

“I’ll never leave your side”. He kissed your hair. “I love you”.

[katsukisbimbo]

care too much

✯pairing: ryuguji ken (draken) x fem! reader

✯synopsis: would you still stay even if it meant destroying yourself for his happiness?

✯wordcount: 995

✯note: ever since i read tokyo revengers, this idea has been stuck in my head and i have reached peak sadness so here you go. i definitely projected on this one :) you should listen to my song rec to be even more sad <3

✯song rec: YKWIM — yot club

You’ve loved him. You always have. You’ve loved him for so long that you don’t remember a time where the thought of Draken didn’t make your chest hurt and your stomach churn. Your stomach still gets butterflies when he says your name, when he barely grazes your skin with his own.

But you’ve never had the courage to confess. You knew you didn’t stand a chance against her. Everything changed when she came into the picture. It was as if you were just forgotten, standing around and waiting for him to notice you once more.

Your heart hurt, but if loving him from a distance was the best option, then so be it. You wouldn’t put your happiness over theirs, not when they were obviously in love with each other. The way Emma looked at Draken was the way you looked at him. With shining eyes and a shy smile.

Even when it hurt, you stayed by his side, watching him fall even deeper in love with her as you wilted away. You tried your best to stop loving him, you really did. But it was useless because as time passed, you only grew to love him more. As the years went by, the space that Draken held in your heart only grew bigger.

You wished for them to live a happy life. To live a life they deserved for each other. They deserved to grow old and have a family. To get away from the gang life and finally love each other in peace, but that dream shattered the moment she died.

He was never the same after then. She had a space as large in his heart as Draken did yours. But yet you stayed. A selfish part of you thought that this was your chance. Your chance to pick up the pieces and be loved by him, even if you were just a rebound. You craved his love so much that you were willing to sacrifice your dignity for him.

Some nights, he’d pull you close to his chest and say her name, nightmares of her death haunting him each night as you reassured him, telling him that you were here for him, even when he didn't want you to be.

He didn’t want you. He wanted her.

It wasn’t you that he wanted to touch, to kiss, to love. It was her. It was always her and it will always be her. You have no right to be here. You have no right to be taking advantage of his fragile state but here you are anyway, coddling the man you’ve loved for so long, hoping to fill the space she left.

It’s been years since her death. Things had gotten back to normal but the hole she left in everyone's lives is overwhelmingly large. Draken had finally gotten back on his feet, starting his own business with Kazutora and doing what he loves most.

And you’ve stayed by his side. You stayed by his side for twelve years, hoping that he’d let you in the way he let her but it wasn’t the same. Some days, you couldn’t help but resent her. You were there from him in the beginning. It was you and him before it was him and her. What did she have that you didn’t?

You hate thinking that way. You hate comparing yourself to her because you know you couldn’t even hold a candle to her. She was Emma and you are you. You could do nothing but stay at his side and pick up the pieces.

You still remember the way you cried whenever he spoke about her to you, telling you that she was everything he had. Without her he was thinking. She completed him and he regretted every single moment where he wasn’t able to tell her that. But you still stayed, because he still needed you.

You stayed because he deserved to have someone. He deserved to be loved, even if he didn’t love you back. Of course, it still hurt. Seeing the man you love look for another woman while you held him to your chest as you whisper sweet nothings in his ear to calm him down.

He had your whole heart in his palm and he didn’t even know it. Maybe he did and just didn’t care. You remember all the nights you cried yourself to sleep in Mitsuya’s bed after Draken fell asleep. The way Mitsuya whispered comforting words in your ear the way you did Draken.

You remember how it felt, having your heart broken by him. The sobs that wracked your throat. The way it felt like you couldn’t breathe. It was nothing you’ve ever experienced. You remember the way he told you that it was useless to be with him, to try to get him to love you when his heart belonged to Emma.

You already knew, but a small part of you still hoped. Maybe it was selfish of you, thinking that you’d be able to give him the same love she did. But you just wanted him to be happy, you just wanted to build him back up, even if it meant you had to destroy yourself.

You still laugh at your naivety back then. How foolish of you. Thinking he’d gradually fall in love with you and build a life with you. It wasn’t meant to be. It wasn't easy to let go of your love, you knew that. But that didn’t make it hurt less.

She was his everything. She is what he wants. You’ve accepted that. You had to let go of him because there was no space for you in his heart— his life.

You could never take her place because she was Emma and you are you.

© katsukisbimbo 2021 — all rights reserved. please refrain from modifying, translating, reposting of any kind. plagiarism will NOT be tolerated. please be kind and enjoy! ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP!

[boop-le-snoot]

@buckyownsmylife hey babe! Remember that one time you threw that cool challenge? Here's my entry. Prepare to get absolutely ruined because daddy!Bruce is exactly that sort of man.

main masterlist ☀️ taglist

emotional support nerd

Your best friend's dad, Dr. Bruce Banner, is hotter than you thought he would be. 6k words, NSFW. Kind of Alt!Reader - she refers to herself as 'goth' in one instance. Tony Stark makes an appearance because God forbid I write a fanfic without him in it.

This is filthy pron, ft. age difference (reader is college aged) daddy kink, throat fucking, dirty talk, praise kink, cream pie, possessiveness, belly bulge and ending with a hint at a threesome. I really crammed all I could from Eyre's wheel in here, didn't I. Oh well.

"How much longer, dad?" Lyra's annoyed voice struck a chord within me. I tried to hide my snickering - unsuccessfully might I add - causing my best friend to shoot me a hurt look, equally fed up with me as she was fed up with her forgetful adopted father. "You know what, we'll take the subway."

Lyra's father's voice, both agitated and apologetic, reached my ears in bitten-off phrases as the traffic noises around us grew in volume, NYC rush hour rapidly approaching its peak.

With a sound huff, Lyra removed the phone from her ear, staring me down with the most amount of petulance I've ever seen on her usually reserved, placid face. "It's twenty more minutes. Apparently he's driving Tony's car," she offered in the way of explanation, like it actually did anything to better the cold, wet situation we found ourselves in. "Please, and I can't stress this enough, please don't be weird."

I felt a flood of amusement at Lyra's pleading tone. "Darling, if you wanted a normal friend, you should have looked elsewhere," I gestured to my outfit. I looked like a goth boy's wet dream: chunky platformed boots, fishnets, heavy eyeliner. Of course, all in black.

"You know what I mean," she whined, waving off my pointing hand and fixing me with a hard stare. "The least my dad needs is someone that is terrified of him just because sometimes he turns into a big green monkey. It's not as exciting as internet thinks, anyway," the last part of the sentence was mumbled but I heard it nonetheless as Lyra stared out into the traffic, clever eyes looking for a particular car model.

What Lyra didn't know was that I was not at all considering to be terrified by the man who dosed himself with radiation and developed an advanced version of split personality disorder. I could be intimidated by him, sure, because he was incredibly intelligent, a world class scientist with more PhDs than I had zeroes in my bank account, but even despite his green problem, Dr. Bruce Banner was about as far away from 'scary' as a man could be.

The few scarce pictures of him on the internet showed a short, stocky man with kind eyes and salt-and-pepper curls, always dressed in un-ironed, crumpled button-ups with dorky patterns. Looking at him, I mused that there was a high chance he spoke with a stutter and that fact amused me to no end. Jekyll and Hyde, alright.

Lyra was much the same way. Shy and reclusive, with curly brown hair and doe eyes, she spent a good chunk of her first semester in college being avoided by everybody because of her last name; I, on the other hand, avoided everyone out of habit, I'd never been a social butterfly, but the way people subtly made sure to exclude Lyra from all the activities filled me with quiet, seething rage, and I stepped over my general distaste of people and removed my bag from the seat next to me so Lyra could at least study in relative peace.

Yeah, yeah, you've heard it all, I'm sure. Weird goth chick adopts a socially awkward, shunned nerd and they become best friends forever. I had to admit that under the shy exterior, Lyra was smart, witty and even funny sometimes. She was willing to entertain my crude jokes without moaning, at least, and I was perfectly okay with listening to her rant about science every now and then.

Rain banged on the slanted roof of the café we were hiding in, the autumn wind howled, making both of us shiver at the prospect of having to go outside, even if it was for a short moment to run to Lyra's dad's car. The day had started out warm and sunny, but much like a badly calculated chemical formula, it all went downhill a split second after we had set out to leave campus.

"There he is," the grouch in Lyra's expression had me once again unsuccessfully attempting to conceal my snorting.

Nonetheless, I followed her out into the rain, struggling to keep up with the brisk running in my platformed shoes, unceremoniously crawling into the car behind her without sparing a glance at the driver in my eagerness to get out of the freezing downpour.

"Hi, dad," Lyra's tired voice spoke up at the same time as I angrily shook out my hair.

"I've just about McFuckin' had it with New York," I was afraid the dye in my hair would bleed out into my clothes, or even worse, the nice, cream-colored car seats.

"Hello, ladies," the voice that greeted us was low, gravelly and apologetic to boot.

My eyes shot up, meeting an expression full of surprise and amusement. I stared at the shockingly handsome face of Dr. Bruce Banner like a deer in the headlights.

The fine mimic wrinkles had stretched into a resemblance of a smile, soft, plush lips revealing a set of straight, white teeth. The five o'clock shadow framed his jaw, giving it a sharp, defined edge, his clever brown eyes slid down my form, faltering on the pentagram on my belt and my fishnet-covered legs, settling on my chunky boots before hastily snapping back up to my face.

"Dad, this is..." Lyra's voice was full of suspicious bewilderment as she attempted to dissipate the sudden awkwardness.

"Oh, yeah, I'm Dr. Bruce Banner, but you can call me Doc or Bruce," he cleared his throat, turning himself towards the windshield and starting up the car.

"Nice to meet you," I busied myself with putting away any stray hair just to occupy myself with something during the time I needed to recuperate from being just... Looked at by Lyra's dad.

It sounds ridiculous, I know, but I was so taken aback by his handsomeness and his aura of a gentle but powerful man that the ride to Stark tower, however swift, went on in slightly awkward silence. The streets outside were, thankfully, noisy, and the lack of an attempt to have a conversation could easily be attributed to Bruce's need to focus on the road, but Lyra's increasingly concerned looks did very little to settle the sudden racing of my heart.

"C'mon, I'll give you some sweats so you can let your..." Lyra's vague gesture towards my upper body disappeared behind her side of the door. "Hey, Tony," she suddenly interrupted her sentence, very obviously addressing another person who I managed to miss as Bruce parked in the spacious garage.

"I've been told you're finally bringing your friend, Green Pea," a voice I'd heard a thousand times on the TV poked fun at Lyra.

She bent down to retrieve her bag, shooting big eyes at me and mouthing an exaggerated "Sorry!"

Tony Stark looked about a week in debt on sleep, a contrast to the way he usually appeared in public. The exaggerated eyebrow raise made me shuffle awkwardly in my spot; the Led Zep tee caught my eyes as I lingered on it, aware of my own Mötorhead top on display. He noticed it too, causing his face leave the snide territory.

"Wow, I didn't expect kids these days to have any resemblance of taste in music but you've surprised me, Corpse Bride," he gave me a quiet wolf-whistle, watching me through lidded eyes.

I felt my eyebrow crawl upwards at his attitude but Bruce spoke up before I could say anything: "Tony, no," so firmly, I had to raise both of my eyebrows. I felt a smile tug at my lips, the situation strikingly familiar in it's essence. Like father, like daughter...

"No," Lyra's identical expression, fond and annoyed, topped up with an accusing finger pointed in my direction had everyone snorting a giggle at the situation.

"Lyra," I whined, just so I could coax her grin that she was very obviously trying to conceal. "See, I told you, every crazy genius needs their emotional support nerd," I fixed her with a pointed look.

She promptly grabbed me by the arm, leading all of us to the elevator as the two men behind us shared a hearty laugh at my well-timed joke. It was either that or I would have completely embarrassed myself by gaping and drooling over both THE Tony Stark and Lyra's father.

The rush didn't stop there. I was promptly and generously offered not only a spare pair of pants but also a whole room to stay in after an invitation to dinner I simply could not refuse. Dr. Banner firmly coaxed me into staying overnight with his pleading eyes and a hearty seasoning of guilt tripping, softly crooning how he simply could not let a young woman to wander the cold, rainy night in NYC alone.

Tony added something too, in a tone way too surefire and patronising. I guessed he noticed my eyes lingering on Dr. Banner, being a genius and all.

In a short amount of time, I found myself seated at a dinner table next to a happy, giggling Lyra who'd downed a glass of wine and was well into her second. I found it adorable how much of a lightweight she was; not hesitating in the slightest to point out that fact when she made hands for a pitcher of water.

Tony was the first one to snark back something vague about his college days and all the wild parties he used to throw, booing Bruce upon discovery that he, in fact, actually studied in college in favour of partaking in various illicit activities. That had both me and Tony giggling with Lyra promptly joining in, both of us losing it over the running joke or her being either a test tube baby or the result of immaculate conception.

Bruce's face blushed scarlet. He sputtered, a few stray drops of his lemonade landing on the (ironed!) collar of his purple shirt, cough disappearing in the wake of Tony's truly amused cackling. Dr. Banner was well on his way to either choke on his Lo Mein or turn green; thinking quickly, I decided to defuse a situation by sharing a harmless, funny story that happened to me as a freshman.

"I went on a date with this guy who said that music was the most important thing in his life, and I thought, wow, that's so beautiful!" I began my story over Lyra's incessant snickering. "So we had dinner and went back to his place because I'm a whore," the whole table erupted in laughter at my deadpan remark, Tony reaching over to give me a high five.

"And as we got there, he put on one of his demos which was just a bunch of sampled and remixed Guns'n'Roses songs, and I thought wow, that's gotta be one of the worst things I've ever heard," I pointedly looked away as Lyra's cackling grew in volume, having heard the same story several times by now and the outrage I expressed at the situation first hand.

"But instead of that I said, wow, that's so cool! Then we did the thing and his whole bedroom was covered in Axl Rose posters and I'm sure at some point Mr. Rose stared right up my asshole," there were tears streaming down Lyra's face as Tony flopped his upper body onto the table and Bruce convulsed helplessly in a silent fit of giggles. "And then I thought to myself: wow, I would have to pretend to like his music if I dated this guy and I just couldn't do that..." I breathed out, succumbing to the mirth at the dinner table. "It was good but not November Rain good, y'kno?"

Bruce snorted loudly, sliding down his chair with a hand over his face. The table shook with the force of Tony's cackling; I didn't see his expression but the howling, rasping noises sent me into another fit of laughter, right on par with Lyra.

"Is this..." Tony rapidly inhaled the much-needed oxygen. "Is this why you keep wincing whenever I play the 'Roses in the lab?" Tony wheezed and Lyra nodded.

"I just... I can picture it, and I-" she made a vague, encompassing gesture and a face.

"Please, don't," I urged with a snort. "There are better ways to get disappointed."

Dinner went on by smoothly after that, everybody happily making remarks on my dating fail, the topic of Lyra's birth and Tony's college shenanigans dismissed.

I caught Dr. Banner's pointed look as we finished our dessert - he was studying me, eyes searching for something that he very obviously wished was there. From the damp roots of my hair to the soft, cotton top clinging to my chest, I wasn't left unscrutinzed and unexamined. Like one of the many specimens he studied on a daily basis, Bruce lingered on the many characteristics that made me stand out in the grey crowd.

"Would you like to see the labs?" He asked, appearing behind me without a single sound.

The freshly cleaned dishes clattered in my arms. I'd almost dropped them, startled, but Bruce's hand landed on the top of the stack right before the top plate would have slipped off and shattered into pieces on the cold tile of his kitchen.

Blood rushed to my ears. "I'd love to," my brain had briefly returned to reality, the rush of meeting both Stark and Banner succumbing to logic and reason. My and his fields of study briefly overlapped, the question he posed was more than reasonable. In fact, many people would cheat, lie and steal to be in my position.

Bruce smiled, opening a cabinet and taking half of the dishes I was holding to stack them up in their proper place. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, exposing wide, muscular forearms littered with dark, coarse hair.

I was sure my face was flaming. After waving off Lyra's attempts to put shoes on me and leaving her to watch her TV show, a wide, warm palm rested on the back of my waist, gently steering me towards the elevator.

I tried to keep my eyes off Bruce in the large mirror on the walls of the car as it swiftly moved down, scrutinizing my appearance instead. My throat bobbed, the elevator car suddenly too small and too hot.

His eyes left marks on me - invisible ones, the kind that I knew were there just from the scorching heat sizzling on my skin.

There was a certain je ne sais quoi about him. Perhaps, it was in the way he was acting - a polar opposite of what I'd had expected, Dr. Bruce Banner possessed a quiet confidence and his patience appeared to be endless, heartily doused with an appreciation for his closest ones. The way his eyes lit up in response to people smiling around the dinner table was hard to miss.

When Bruce spoke about his research - whatever wasn't classified, anyway - the spark expanded into a mischievous fire. I could hardly understand the nuances in his work, scratch that- I could not understand a single word he was saying, at all. The individual syllables registered as they should, but my traitorous brain could only focus on the way he licked his lips in between quickly inhaled breaths.

"You're not... Following, are you?" The corner of his mouth lifted upwards, clever brown eyes fixed on my face.

God, I hoped I wasn't drooling. But to deny the obvious would have been a stretch. "No, not really," I swallowed, willing my eyes to lift from the large veins on the hand that was pointing at a set of equations. Reasonably good at math any day, they looked like the scribbles of a madman to me at the time.

Dr. Banner sighed, letting silence creep among the whirring machinery in the lab for a brief moment. "I don't scare you?" He removed his glasses, cleaning them with the corner of his shirt.

The question reeked of self-doubt and, perhaps, insecurity. "No," I answered simply, not giving him the slightest chance to find doubt in my words. I was barely holding my voice from shaking, afraid he'd misunderstand my reaction to the sudden change in atmosphere.

He was closer to me than I recalled. My hip was almost brushing his, the bulk of his shoulder millimeters from touching against my bare skin, the smell of something herbal, like tea, and sharp chemicals clouding my senses. It was such a contrasting experience.

Bruce turned to me, an expression between hunger and regret forcing me to shiver and look him straight in the eye. A hand landed on my waist, holding me in place with gentle firmness. "I'm a monster, I could hurt you," he whispered, leaning into me like a touch starved kitten. The man screamed contradiction. "We shouldn't."

Vivid images of the Hulk and the rampages years prior flashed through my mind; the rubble, the collateral damage in the form of many lives. I barely remembered it, having been too little to really understand what was going on. One thing, though, I knew for sure: ever since the world became aware of Lyra's existence, there had been no incidents. Sure, the Hulk still appeared when there was a threat, but there were no documented incidents of the green creature running amok, accidentally.

"You won't hurt me," I spoke with conviction. Perhaps, I was bluffing just slightly but I wouldn't lie like that to myself. The variable, the... Twelve or so percent chance of things going... Awry, it made a small, malicious worm inside of me rejoice and fill my limbs with familiar adrenalised yearning. "You're not a monster. Far from it, actually," I used the hand that was not supporting me against the desk to gently cradle the side of his face, letting my fingertips brush over the rough five o'clock shadow on his cheek.

Bruce emitted a sound somewhere between an agitated grown and a pleading whine, sagging with the sound exhale, pressing himself flush with my chest. His face slipped from my palm, the warm tip of his nose running a steady line up my neck, sending goosebumps running wildly down my back as his hot breath tickled the arch of my throat.

"Baby," the nickname punched a stuttered gasp out of me with the intensity contained in just that one word. "I've been hearing all these amazing things about you," his voice dropped, low baritone rumbling straight into my ear. "I won't be able to hold back. I'll want you all to myself," his bicep flexed under my hand.

My knees would have bucked if I wasn't grasping onto Bruce for dear life after those words. I had some sense of personal pride in me, so while my body was an easy, traitorous thing, my mind was more than eager to participate in this game, to ping pong a little bit before... "Yeah? What things?" I breathed.

Teeth briefly closed around my tender skin, nipping for just a second. "You're kind, beautiful," his hand took a steadfast hold on the back of my neck, exposing my throat to his mouth. More skin to mark, more time to whisper. "Intelligent, bright and clever," the more he spoke, the fiercer he became. Bruce's grasp tightened until I was pliant in it, willingly following his silent commands. "A bit of a pain in the ass," a healthy dose of humour was added into the mix as my ass was roughly grabbed, our fronts pressed together at his insistence.

"That sounds about right," I didn't resist the sudden urge to snark, thoughts lazily floating in my head, like clouds on a bright sunny day, fleeting and sparse. None of them caught on. I was focused on feeling the need, on my need to feel.

A sharp smack landed on the plump of my ass, the sound resonating in the eerily quiet lab. The sounds of machinery had dulled at some point, leaving just the two of us panting our lust into each other's space. "I know you can be a good girl. Will you, princess?" His fingertips dug into my flesh, surpassing the soft sweatpants as if they weren't even there.

I could only nod, dumbly, overcome by the sudden rush of blood to my body. The life coarsing through me sang, demanding a release of the pent-up tension.

"What's that?" Bruce removed himself from my neck, catching my unfocused eyes with a crooked smirk on his lips.

"Yes," I swallowed, breathing through my mouth.

"Mmm," he hummed, running both hands over my sides, over the frayed edges of my Mötorhead top. He admired it, briefly, setting his eyes on the band logo that was right over my breasts. Having decided something to himself, Bruce promptly removed it, lifting it over my head with ease and leaving it right on the science lab table.

Taking hold of my hand, he walked over to a hidden set of sliding doors that revealed a rather large, frequently used bed, shutting them just as I walked in, wearing only my bra and borrowed sweats. My back was pressed to the door in mere seconds, hot palms chasing away the chill of the lab as Bruce slotted his lips over mine.

He tasted like something I've never had before. His lips - so plush and supple, took hold of the kiss with practiced gusto, sucking me in without a chance or the desire to escape. I drank from him, sucked on the bottom lip as his tongue explored my mouth, danced with mine.

The room was spinning, the ringing in my ears growing in volume. I was only partly aware of the sensation of sliding down the wall; our knees thudded on the carpeted floor simultaneously, heavy breathing the only noise I could distinguish.

"Breathe, baby, that's it," Bruce coaxed, gently stroking my nape. The soft cotton of his shirt crumpled under my fingers where I held onto him, desperately searching something to ground myself with.

The buckle of his belt clattered and then clinked again as he wrapped the worn leather around my wrists, bringing them together in front of my chest. I exhaled sharply at the intimate gesture, a whine bubbling up from my chest when Bruce used a single fingertip to raise my chin.

My eyes met his; a brown iris tinged with the faintest of green around the outer edge. "This okay, princess?" He sought my face for confirmation, for agreement, for anything.

I nodded, stuttering mid-gesture, remembering our previous interaction. My mouth did not want to cooperate but I forced it to, even if it came out as little more than a pitiful mewl. "Yes, daddy," the word, sweet and sticky like fruit syrup, poured from my lips.

My eyes slid shut as my conscience - or was it common sense? - took hold of the situation. I was on my knees in front of my best friends dad, a virtual stranger, and I'd just-

Bruce's soft chuckle stopped the negative spiral of my thoughts. "That's my girl," he sounded a tad more breathless now, a hairliner in his perfect façade of self-control. As if he'd sensed my indecisiveness, he tugged on the makeshift restraints, pulling me closer, closer and into his lap.

A warm, solid chest with a healthy amount of fluff greeted me. Bruce let my lax, pliant body fall into his arms, catching me effortlessly and bringing my face to his lips. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, you're my good girl," he peppered soft kisses all over my flaming cheeks, my twitching nose, my fluttering lashes.

"Please," I begged, shame giving way to the flood of arousal that seemingly hit me all at once. I was aware of the dampness collecting in my panties, the stiffness of my limbs from holding back the ravenous desire to paw at Bruce like a wild animal. "Please, daddy..."

"I know, I know, baby girl," he soothed, not stopping his tender assault on my face. "Daddy will make it all better. I know just what you need," Bruce finally pulled away. I heard the sound of him undoing his zipper and then the awkward shuffle of him shucking off his pants.

Somewhere in between of all that, he'd ended up sitting down on the bed, wearing only his boxers, his shirt hanging open. The red crawled down his chest, partially masked by the coarse salt and pepper hair; his lips were cherry red and his hair was sticking out in odd directions. Bruce looked sinful.

My eyes inadvertently landed on the impressive bulge in his boxers; in response to my widened eyes, he reached out for it, stroking the outline of his thick cock through his boxers. "Like what you see, baby?"

"Yeah," My mouth watered.

"Baby wants a fat cock?" He teased, sounding like he knew exactly what he was doing, testing my self-control like that. With a flick of his wrist, it sprang free, slapping against his tummy, coating the fine hairs with drops of clear, musky fluid.

I swallowed, feeling the taste of him from afar and yearning for more where I was parked between his spread legs.

In a gesture almost loving, he tugged on the belt still wrapped around my wrists, bringing my face to his leaking shaft and my hands to the base of it, letting me feel the weight of his balls in them. The cock throbbed, neglected, weighed down by the heaviness of his full balls.

"Go ahead, baby, suck my cock," the encouragement came with a gentle push to my head.

I obediently followed, wrapping my lips around the pink, moist crown of it, a hum beginning in the back of my throat. My God, Bruce tasted heavenly... I whirled and slipped my tongue a around his head, I dipped into the slit to drink the nectar right from the tap, idly coming to awareness of the broken, choked moans coming from the man above me.

Raising my head got me a view of his chin; head thrown back, the lax O of his mouth glistened in the meager light. My eyes slid lower, to the flex of his abs. Bruce fought hard to stay still. The desire consumed me, a sudden rush of power at having Dr. Bruce Banner's cock in my mouth and the man at my mercy; I inhaled, sliding my mouth further and further down his throbbing length.

"Fuck," I heard him mutter before his hands gripped the sides of my face. "Hungry, baby, are you?" His eyes glowed a faint green; I shuddered at the power he held within himself. Held back for me. "Tap my thigh twice," he spoke and I had no choice but to obey. "Okay. Do that if it gets too much, alright?" I nodded. He gave me a wide, beaming smile. "Good girl," he praised, experimentally bucking his hips into my mouth a few times.

In and out. I focused on my breathing, sharp, little inhales: his girth took up all the free space in my mouth, the tip of it barely fit into my throat. The burn, the stretch; I felt every tenth of an inch, every bulging attempt of my body to accommodate Bruce's huge cock. It was delicious, I couldn't help but crave the same stretch in my neglected, sopping wet pussy.

"Fuck, you're taking it so well," Bruce moaned wetly. "Your mouth... S'like heaven... Could fuck it all day, that's my good girl," the rambling increased in it's intensity as the pace of his hips hastened. Drool and tears flowed like a river; my chin was dropping with it, spit connected my face to his pelvis. "Oh," there was a brief pause to his movements; suddenly, he pulled out, fisting the base of his cock, staring me down with a ferocious gleem in his eye.

I must've looked a straight mess; my face like a crime scene, my clothes disheveled, covered in fluids and most of all - I was desperately grinding against my own feet, too focused on the glorious cock in front of me to notice the weakness of my own flesh. "Daddy?" I questioned, wincing at the grating of my own voice.

Without a word, the belt was tugged once more; in a set of movements just slightly north of acrobatic, I found myself laying on my back in the middle of the bed, my sweatpants suffering a haste demise in the corner of the room.

Bruce crawled atop me, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses on every inch of my skin he could reach, mouthing something inaudible into every pore of my body. As he drew closer, I discerned bitten-off phrases, stringing my desire into sticky, tangy mess at the apex of my thighs.

"My perfect baby girl," the words reached me; all tongue, he kissed me once more, arching into me as much as I arched into his hot grasp. A brief inspection of my face - he was satisfied with what he saw - and Bruce crawled back, settling in between my spread legs, breathing hot air on the lips of my sex still covered by a sopping wet piece of fabric.

"Oh fuck," I yelped, feeling him smooch it soundly, the hot wetness of his tongue penetrating the meagre lace barrier with ease.

He moved it aside anyway, with a single finger, giving my pussy a broad lick, moaning into my cunt like a man gone mad. It took a few more licks for him to feel sated enough to surface, all the while holding my hips down. I was so sensitive, I felt even the tiniest flicks to my clit, I was sure if I didn't cum then and there, I would explode.

"Such a pretty pussy, princess," his heavy breathing paused briefly. He nipped my thigh. "So wet, is that all for me?"

"Yes, yes, daddy," I rasped, pushing my cunt into his face, losing all shame and trepidation.

"So tasty," he continued the torture, outlining my lower lips before taking another nosedive right into it, swirling his tongue around every fold, sucking onto my clit.

Bruce ate my pussy until my thighs shook, until my core quivered and I could no longer hold back the choked, ragged screams starting somewhere in the low of my belly and coming out as unholy, all-consuming yowls filled with unadulterated lust.

"Louder for me, baby," he inhaled rapidly, and then, he sucked on my clit.

The world stopped, halted on it's axis, every muscle going rigid in my body and every nerve ending simultaneously coming alive. Faintly, I heard a chant, repeating two syllables over and over, it sounded like my voice - but I had no control over myself. All I could do was weakly grind my hips against Bruce's mouth, faltering when the crashing waves of my orgasm began to recede.

The infuriating overstimulation stopped; blinking hazily, I saw Bruce's eyes glimmer brown and green in front of my face. His nose and his chin was glistening with a thin coat of sticky fluid; disheveled and red, he looked a man on the verge of a revelation.

Something hot and blunt nosed at my cunt, bringing back the moment to me - I realized, with a great deal of impatience - how empty I felt. The decision was minute. "Daddy, fuck me, please, I want your cock," the words came easily.

"That's my girl," his eyes fluttered shut as the first inches squeezed through the snug of my cunt. I was sopping wet and as relaxed as I'd be, but even then, it was a stretch. "Good girl, good baby," the mumbled praise made me whine and my pussy clamp on his cock. "Relax, let daddy fill you up." Breathing through it, I consciously unwound myself around him, letting my palms rest freely on his shoulders. "Let daddy take care of you."

Like melted sugar, his husked words stuck to me inside and out. Short, sharp thrusts; Bruce was patiently burrowing himself inside of me, making his way to reach the deepest parts of me I didn't even know existed. His cock head pressed against something hard and spongy inside of me; stars burst behind my eyes I'd clamped shut on reflex.

I moaned weakly, tugging on his arm, pressing myself closer. It felt so, so good. Like a raw nerve had been exposed and he was stroking it, pushing that little switch with every stroke of his hips.

"I'm not gonna last," he muttered as once again, my cunt squeezed him snugly in place, just as greedy as I was to feel that tiny explosion spark up within me again.

"I want..." I panted. Bruce set in a punishing pace after that, a palm under my ass, squeezing it so hard there would definitely be bruising. I craved it, I needed to see the evidence this was not some elaborate fever dream. "I want... Daddy to fill me up," words came out garbled; it sounded like gibberish to my ears but Bruce - they spurred him on.

"Oh yeah?" That breathless, boyish cockiness was back in his voice again; despite how fucked out he sounded, I prepared myself for something truly out of this world. I just knew.

He sat back on his shins, dragging me by the hips with him, making me shiver and moan and twitch and clamp onto him again as his throbbing cock hit that special spot again. And again. And again.

"Look at me, baby," a hand on my belly and his eyes burning right through me. As they slid down, towards the apex of my thighs where he was still moving within me almost lazily, I saw it.

"Oh fuck," I couldn't utter much more than a two-syllabled profanity. There was a bulge in my belly, just above my pelvis, moving in rhythm with Bruce's hips. And then he pressed on it and I-

Something, someone, somewhere was screaming. The noise was loud and pitched, but even then, I could barely hear it though the neverending waves of bliss that enveloped my whole being. Gold and silver at the edges of my rapidly darkening vision; I was drowning in something that smelled and felt like Bruce. The safety of his arms, the warmth of his heated body, the rapid snapping of his hips-

Oh.

"I'm gonna, fuck," the last word was but a ghost of a human speech. Growling low and filthy, Bruce leaned into my ear, his breath hot and moist. "Mine," his hips stuttered, his cock nestled deep, the sensation bordering on painful, forcefully extracted pleasure. It throbbed with every spurt of his seed; each one felt like a solid punch in the gut to my abused pussy.

"Daddy," I mewled, my body jerking away from him but my mind and my soul yearning for more. His rapidly softening flesh made the idea of being separated unbearable.

"S'good, s'my good girl, m'so proud," he mumbled, looking slightly disoriented as he removed himself from me, immediately pressing me to his side and interwining any free, flailing limbs.

We laid in silence, each of us slowly coming back to Earth after the completely unreal experience we just had. I didn't know what to think, didn't know what to do as the realization set in, the post-orgasmic haze giving way to a sudden rush of clarity.

"I can hear you overthinking," Bruce's voice was fond.

Before I could muster up the courage to snark back, the divided doors opened, one very concerned Tony Stark standing there, armed with a tranquilizer gun in one hand and a pack of cookies in the other. His mouth, previously open to (probably) yell at us, remained as open when his eyes had registered the scene in front of him.

I stared at Bruce. Bruce stared at Tony.

"The noise," he offered in the way of explanation, dangling the pack of cookies, looking, for once - speechless. He recovered quickly, however, even if the remark was a thin ghost of his usual sass: "You pick the nerd over me? I'm hurt," he scoffed in mock irritation, although I was pretty sure I saw some satisfaction in there, too.

Bruce looked at me. I looked at Bruce.

A mischievous grin slowly crept up his face, an identical one beginning to appear on my own face seconds after.

"Hey, two nerds is better than one, right?" My response is what did it; or, rather, it was the evidence of my previous throat-fucking clearly audible in my voice... Tony dropped the cookies and then, the tranq gun.

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