#like legitimately my hands have stopped working

[blenselche]

just now realizing I never draw kissing :S

[froggieboisposts]

I Am Going To Lose My Shit :)

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Wow okay the whole "laughing while crying" thing doesn't happen unless things have gone especially pear shaped huh

[dallasstarsdyke]

decided to **** *** instead of napping but i'm going to head out anyway. gonna study for the sat and if i'm too tired to be a lifeguard after that i'll sleep in my car in the gym parking lot for half an hour

[navybrat817]

Double Shift

Pairing: Chop Shop Mechanic!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky helps you unwind after you work a double shift.

Word Count: Over 1.8k

Warnings: Established relationship, slight insecurities, bit of backstory, dirty talk, mild smut, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: @nixakimbo was kind enough to gift me with this GORGEOUS edit and I had to create a new AU. Sorry, lovelies? @tavners , this is for you. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You dropped your bag the moment you walked through the door. Your feet ached despite the comfortable shoes, and your head throbbed with each passing second. Groaning, you dragged yourself to the couch, collapsing into it like it was the only place you’d ever wanted to be. Working doubles was exhausting, but this? This was something else entirely.

It was a long day in a series of long days, but now you had a chance to relax.

Reaching for the nearby pillow, you inhaled deeply, a smile tugging at your lips. Instead of the usual fresh scent of your couch, you caught the familiar, warm fragrance of your boyfriend’s cologne. He must have spritzed it before leaving for work. It was like leaning into him and your shoulder relaxed more, even though you wished he were really there.

The sound of the door creaking open a few minutes later told you that your wish had been granted.

“Aww. Long day, baby?” Bucky cooed from the doorway, spotting you sprawled out with no intention of moving to greet him. “You know your bag’s on the ground?”

“Mm-hmm.” You rubbed your temples slowly. “You know I worked a double, right? I’m lucky I made it to the couch.”

His soft chuckle reached your ears as he set his keys down and picked up your bag. “I know and I’m sorry. You work really hard.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead once he reached the couch. “I wish you didn't have to.”

You turned your head, the throbbing in your temples easing when your eyes met his. His black tank top fit him perfectly, complementing the tattoos that stretched across his neck and arms. The skulls and flowers, symbols of death and hope, told stories of his past. Stories he didn't have to tell you about, but he did anyway and you were happy to know every detail. As captivating as the ink was, it was his blue eyes that held you. In them, you saw your future, bright and full of love.

“That’s life. And you work hard, too,” you reminded him.

“Yeah. My job is so honorable,” he mumbled, making a mess of his hair as he ran a hand through it. “I’m really making a difference in the world.”

You frowned sympathetically. Bucky was a gifted mechanic, but his family was dealt a bad hand and he did what he had to do to take care of his younger sister. “And you’ll be out of there soon.”

Once he finished paying off Becca's medical bills, he could quit. That day was getting closer and closer. And one day he’d open his own shop, too, a legitimate shop. You wanted to stand beside him when that dream came true. Becca would be so proud.

Both of you wanted the best for Bucky.

He sighed, sinking to his knees and resting his hands on your thighs. You could see the gray peppering his scruff and you couldn’t help but reach out to run your nails through it. The sound of his groan made you smile, so you did it again.

“I just wanna give you the world,” he whispered, turning his head and kissing your palm. “You know that, right?”

“You already do,” you whispered back, his eyes softening. You had a roof over your head, food in your stomach, and his love in your heart. It was all you needed. “But you know, I could-”

Bucky put a finger to your lips to stop you. “I know what you're going to say and we’re not selling your dad's car.”

You smiled sadly. Your dad’s car was a classic and could get Bucky the money he needed, but he turned the offer down each time you brought it up. He didn't want you to give up one of the only things you had left of your dad. “I won't say a word tonight.”

But you could try again tomorrow.

“Thank you.” He took your hand and kissed your palm again. “You up for a ride later?”

“I don’t think I’m moving from this spot tonight,” you half smiled. “But we can tomorrow.”

“You don’t wanna go for a ride tonight?” he asked, surprise laced in his voice. You usually jumped at the chance to ride his motorcycle with him.

“Feet and head hurt a little,” you admitted, touching his cheek as concern etched his features. “I’m fine, really. Nothing for you to make a fuss about, but I won't turn you down if you want to dote on me.”

“Baby,” he sighed, slipping your shoes off. You gasped when he began massaging the sole of your right foot, the gentle pressure making your body sink deeper into the couch. By the time he switched to your left foot, you were practically melting. “That better?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, combing your fingers through his dark hair. He always took care of you. “I swear, you have magic hands.”

“Oh, I have more than magic hands,” he winked, your heart skipping a beat. “And you know what’s good for headaches?”

“Bucky…” you smiled. There was a warning in your voice, but you couldn't help the amusement in your eyes.

“Yes, me,” he grinned. “I’m very good at helping with headaches and you know it.”

Your smile widened. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh, so making you come all over my face before I cook you dinner was not what you meant and will not help your headache?” he asked, his voice deep, dripping with desire.

Whatever ache you felt in your body all went straight to your pussy. A deep, throbbing ache that cried out for him to soothe it since he was the cause. “Is making melt on your tongue as my reward for working a double?”

He smirked at your breathy tone. “That’s exactly what it is.” He didn’t need to ask you to lift your hips when he reached for the waistband of your pants and pulled them off with your underwear. Your body moved on instinct for him, fluid and in sync. “I can feed you right here and carry you to bed, too.”

“I’m too big and heavy for you to carry me,” you teased. His eyes flashed, and before you could react, he leaned down unexpectedly, sinking his teeth into your thigh. Your mouth fell open from the sting, but it felt good, too. “Hey!” You shrieked.

“You’re not big. You’re not heavy. You’re perfect,” he snarled, brushing his tongue along the teeth marks. You wanted his mark all over you. “I’ll blame that remark on how tired you are right now from work.”

Framing his face to lift his head, you met his lips in a soft kiss, hoping to convey how much it meant to you that he saw you as beautiful. How touched you were that he always put your care and feelings first. As scary as he looked to others, you knew the man inside. The one with a heart full of passion.

“I’m not perfect,” you whispered against his lips, gasping when he nibbled your bottom lip. A second bite for once again downplaying yourself. “But I’m perfect for you.”

“You think so?” he asked quietly.

“I know so,” you said, biting his bottom lip for good measure.

He thought you were too good for him some days, and you were quick to shut that down. A good man wouldn’t have taken care of his sister the way he did, and he wouldn’t love you wholeheartedly if he was less of a good person than you. His current profession didn’t define him, and you refused to let him believe it did.

“I...” He kissed the corner of your mouth. “Love...” You shivered when he kissed the other corner. “You.”

A flame lit within your heart. His tender touches and words burned you from the inside out. “I love you, too,” you managed to whisper before his lips covered yours again.

Fresh arousal washed over you when he smiled and kissed down your body. “Now let me show you with my mouth how much I love you,” he simpered, parting your legs to open for him. “Might die if I don’t get my mouth on you and you wouldn’t want that, would you? And we need to get rid of your headache.”

You moaned, also feeling like you’d die if he didn’t touch you. “Do I get your cock, too? It’s a pretty bad headache you need to help me get rid of,” you teased. If your pain actually persisted, he’d make you take something and insist on you resting. And maybe it was selfish to ask for more than one orgasm, but you both knew he wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to rock your world.

“Before and after dinner,” he promised, his pupils dialting as he stared between your trembling thighs. “Fuck, I missed you today,” he groaned.

“Missed me or my pussy?” you asked, certain that you were going to soak the cushion beneath you and you didn’t care as long as he got you off. “Because we both missed you.”

He smirked, his hand inching up your thigh. “Of course, you missed me. Who else would make you come as hard as I do?”

Cocky was a good look on him, but you could play a little, too. “Well…” Your coy smile had him raising his eyebrow. “If you really want to know, there’s-” You threw your head back with a cry as Bucky’s head dipped down to taste you, effectively cutting off your teasing.

It wouldn’t take long for you to coat his fingers and tongue with your release. It never did with him. He’d make you taste yourself when he kissed you after so you could fully appreciate the orgasm he gave you. He wouldn’t give you any reprieve when he’d bend you over the couch and sink his cock into your sensitive pussy. Your sounds would be erotic music to his ears, just like his words were music to yours.

“Grind that pussy back against me. Show me how much you crave my cock.”

“Such a good girl for me. Such a good pussy for me to fuck and fill.”

“Don’t you dare rub your clit. You wanna come? I’ll make you come.”

“Oh, you don’t have to beg for me to come inside you. I’ll give it to you.”

You’d scream his name in ecstasy and pass out in his arms from the best kind of exhaustion. You’d wake up to him kissing your forehead and holding you upright so he could hand feed you a delicious meal. You’d smile when he told you how much he loved you and that he'd be free of the chop shop soon. And you’d tell him you loved him, too, before he fucked you all over again.

It was going to be a good night.

Appreciate you lovelies indulging me like always and hope to share more when I can. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[ms-demeanor]

I hate to say that, but in defense of homeopathy:

A lot of medicine is value projection and/or placebo. We give kids sparkly bandaids on minor abrasions not to help the symptoms or risks of infection, but so that the kid feels cared for.

We sometimes take daily medication not because it helps or we think we need it, but because our grandma raves all about this new cure-all that fixed all her issues.

We overindulge in paracetamol and ibuprofen even in the cases it clearly doesn't work because we need to feel like we took something that will help.

Homeopathy that tries to replace standard treatment is evil. But there is value in having a readily available, socially valued, thing you take when feeling bad, that does absolutely nothing.

In the 20s they just did heroin instead, it wasn't better.

So there's this thing called informed consent that is kind of super duper important and the use of placebo to treat illness is a major violation of informed consent.

Everybody likes the gifset from the Birdcage with the Aspirin with the A and the S scraped off because it's cute and funny, but it's cute and funny in a movie; if a "medical professional" is giving you sugar pills because they don't actually know how to treat you and want to offer you comfort instead, they're saying "you're too fucking stupid to handle the fact that you're ill so I'm going to hold your hand for a moment and hope that makes you feel better."

Your attitude is both fatalistic and tremendously paternalistic, and people with complex illnesses and chronic pain deserve to be treated better than kids getting a sparkly bandaid and a pat on the head.

People overuse painkillers because they're in pain; NSAIDs have effects, even if they aren't treating the root cause of pain, and people often take them because even though they won't stop a spasm, they'll make it less painful for a few hours and if that's what you've got, that's what you take.

The huge, regular doses of ibuprofen I used to take to help my migraines when I didn't have health insurance didn't stop the migraines, but they made it so I could work. What DID help was getting medically diagnosed with celiac disease and no longer triggering my autoimmune disorder on a daily basis.

You know what wouldn't have helped? A sympathetic listener and a sugar pill. Or worse, yet another sympathetic listener telling me about some fucking lead-contaminated turmeric supplement that cured their granny's headaches.

Shit on the heroin cures all you want, they at least included a legitimate cough suppressant and had a mechanism of action more effective than a patronizing lecture about how we've all got to get on somehow, so we might as well pretend we feel better.

Fuck your shitty, shitty attitude. Sick people deserve better than you.

[potofsoup]

i love your fourth of july comics every year but this years feels extremely optimistic about biden’s abilities in the face of him letting roe get overturned and funding a gen*cide at worst or letting it happen at best by taking the bare minimum of regulatory action… i mean can he really be trusted at all anymore to do the right thing or act in line with the people’s demands? and how do we know the people behind project 2025 won’t just rig the election again to get in under false pretenses?

Hihi! Thank you for reading and enjoying my July 4th comics every year! I am in a non-US airport en route to a month-long trip in a place with sketchy internet, so sorry in advance for sloppiness in my response (and potentially going radio silent).

But:

I don't think he "let" Roe get overturned, since that was the Supreme Court's overwhelming conservative majority, which really started with Mitch McConnell refusing to approve Obama's appointee and forcing it into a 2016 election issue. The fact that Trump got to appoint 3 Supreme Court Justices is what got us here.

Re: Biden and the Israel/Hamas war ... on the one hand, there's definitely more that he could have done, but on the other hand, they are a whole other country over there. It's Hamas that initiated the Oct 7 attacks and took the hostages. It's Netanyahu and his right-wing government who decided to retaliate to such extreme extent. Biden can talk about how he would really like Netanyahu to stop fighting and step down, but at the end of the day that's not his call, any more than he can stop the Sudan fighting that is near-genocidal either.

So, to come to your question #1: "Can he really be trusted at all anymore to do the right thing or act in line with the people’s demands"?

For me, it's a resounding YES. Guyz, he has passed so much good domestic policies. My spouse works in green energy and the passing of the Inflation Reduction Act halved his anxiety and gave him legitimate hope. The tumblr post I linked to in my comic has links to many of the other great things that Biden has done. Tbh I voted for him in 2020 because "a moldy onion is still better than Trump", and I've been pleasantly surprised. Like how he tried to cancel student loans, the Supreme Court overturned it, and then he came back 6 months later with a different way to do it that didn't lead to a court challenge.

Is he perfect? Hell no. There's tons of stuff that I wish he did more about, or he went further on, but also he's just one guy heading one branch of government who is heading into an election year. (Just like FDR promising not joining WWII, while behind the scenes doing all the Lend-Lease Act stuff). And "the people" have lots of demands, many of them conflicting.

I'd also like to push at the unspoken part of your question... "Can he really be trusted to do the right thing..." compared to whom? Because right now the answer is "compared to Trump." And compared to Trump... I don't even trust Trump to respect the results of a legitimate election. Heck, he might just take his favorite state secrets, sell them to the highest bidder (or just show them off to someone for funzies), and then claim Presidential immunity. A decent Democrat who got stuff done vs someone who probably wants to pardon himself and all his friends and do Project 2025 stuff is not even on the same level. (Do I wish that there was a viable Democratic alternative to Biden? Sure! But who?) Heck, at this point -- imagine if it's Kamala Harris vs. Trump. Who would you vote for?

As for your question #2: "How do we know the people behind project 2025 won’t just rig the election again to get in under false pretenses?"

We don't. But also what can we do besides showing up to vote?

Actually, I need bullet points for this:

The 2022 midterm elections brought in fewer-than-expected election-deniers into crucial electoral offices at the state level, which means that hopefully most state electoral boards will continue to have integrity

Yes, voting is harder but at least we can still vote. So it's about getting out there and getting your vote counted. For some states, it involves waiting in 8 hour lines. For some states, it involves bringing 2 forms of ID. Document. Track. Make sure it's dropped off in a real ballot box and not a fake one. Don't believe messaging that the voting is happening on a different day or location, etc.

A 50.1% majority is easily challenged. A 55% majority, less so. Which means getting people out to vote.

The more people know about and think about the reality of a second Trump term (versus being disappointed by a Biden term), the more they will be motivated to vote against Trump.

Finally, let's be real here: I'm braced for a 2nd Trump term. That said:

I'm still going to go and vote for Biden, because the only way to prevent a 2nd Trump term is to vote.

A Trump term where either the House or Senate is controlled by the Democrats will be *very* different from a clean Republican sweep.

Even with a clean Republican sweep on the federal level, States have so much more power now, and voting the state level stuff will help shore up Democratic goals for the future. States get to draw voting districts however they want. States get to decide on abortion policies. If you live in a deep Red state, there still might be things to vote for that make it easier to live in now, and turn it purple a few elections down the line.

So at the end of the day, it's "Vote AND". Vote and keep living your best life. Vote and tell others about Project 2025. Vote and have hope. Even if Trump wins, at least you'll have voted against him. Vote and stay to build up a progressive wave for the next election.

[ronearoundblindly]

Hii! Idk if requests are open and it's okay if there not 🥰

but when I read this: "Also, Ari strikes me as a man who would enjoy road head or pull over to go down on you if he's horny or bored or just because. I don't have a reason for that, but it's true. The end."

It's making me feel like we need a full smutty fic of them going on vacation somewhere snowing and this happens because he's bored + horny 👀✋🏼

*ngl, I like the gif. idgaf. Warnings for smut (oral, m & f receiving), obviously. Based on this Who Would. WC 1280

You both absolutely suck at planning trips or time to yourselves--other than spending the night in after work--so, of course, you two over extend before your first legitimate weekend getaway.

Nobody packed!

It took until the wee hours to gather the things you'd need and prepare the home to be left unattended. There was no time for fooling around.

Ari passed out on the couch because clothes were all over the bed for you to visualize 'outfits,' and so he may not strictly be sleepy, just tired and antsy. His free foot won't stop bouncing on the cushioned floor mat.

He isn't subtle in his thoughts.

"How big of a bed did we get?" "Do you think the walls are thick or...?" "How busy is it this time of year? Could we have the hot tub to ourselves?" "Exactly how many layers will you need outside? Is that a lengthy process to take off?"

The traffic thins as you leave the city, but then an accident brings everyone to a dead stop. Even the sky is blocked by the towering trucks on all sides which...can't possibly be why Ari is so irate.

"Come on," he gripes, smacking the butt of his hand on the steering wheel. "Let's just get there."

You have to laugh at such a tiny tantrum from a very big man. It'll be at least an hour and a half (at speed).

"I swear, honey, I thought we'd be..." he mumbles something, scraping through his beard before holding your hand "...by now."

"What was that?" Though you know where this is going, it's worth it to make Ari say it. "What were we supposed to be doing?"

You rub your thumb along his knuckles pointedly.

"Well," he starts, voice low and rich, "I would definitely be buried inside you the very second we were behind closed doors, that's for sure." He adjusts himself in the seat, pawing at his jeans where they grow uncomfortably snug. "If you could only fit in my lap..."

He trails off again, sighing at the mere idea.

click THUD.

You drop his hand to open and shut your side of the cab, a wicked smile curling on your lips.

"One mississippi."

He doesn't take your meaning right away.

"These qualify as 'closed doors' and we are behind them," you simmer. "I can think of at least one way to be buried inside me right here if you're...interested."

Ari freely stares at you and rakes his eyes up and down your body, squinting like the specifics of the offer elude him, but he is all over it anyway.

"Fuck, yes," he growls. "Please." His head swivels around to check all the mirrors before quickly unzipping his pants and pulling his semi-hard cock out.

You tap the gearshift to remind him of his lead foot. Ari gets twitchy when this horny, and there was that one incident.

He throws that sucker into park so fast the metal and plastic actually whine.

Tucking your legs under you, you shimmy to a good angle before replacing his hand with yours, leaning towards his lips only to drop when he moves in, licking the length of him several times, lubing him up to take in your mouth.

Ari's head drops, satisfied though you've barely begun. He's wound tight from all the rushed preparations and can't help but melt into your ministrations. He tugs at his jeans to give you more and more access. The man does appreciate thorough attention.

If there's one thing you can count on, it's that he'll be putty in your hands the sloppier you are, so slowly building up that slick saliva until it drips beneath your fingers at his base blows his mind, every time, without fail.

"Holy shit," he moans, letting one hand rest on the back of your head and the other spread out over your clothed ass. Oh so gently, both knead without pattern or control while his eyes stay slits to watch the road.

They don't really see the road, and he glances down to ration his fill of the naughty scene.

Ari, again, is not subtle in his thoughts.

"You're so hot. Gorgeous. So fucking sexy--right there--uhhnn yeah, sounds like you're enjoying this as much as I am. You wet?" He shoves his hand into your pants to check. "Oh fuck, you are. Careful. You keep doing that--" he doesn't need a lot of fanfare, just focus on the cockhead and coax him with steady strokes "--and I'm gonna blow, sweetheart."

His voice grows hoarse in all his panting.

"Holy shit, are you--so, so close--you swallowing? You're perfect. You're so fucking hot."

Ari's careful not to grip at your head when he comes, leaky and thick, with a roar of relief, but that doesn't stop his finger inside you from plunging deeper and holding you there.

You know exactly the combination to this lock; he knows the combination to your body as well.

He teases you while he comes down, too, absently spreading your arousal back and forth from your clit to your crack. Then Ari chuckles, giddy, a bit light headed, letting his thighs stop their shaking before releasing you.

"Okay...so...are we there yet?"

Only one of the surrounding trucks has begun to roll forward a few car lengths.

Ari hurries to right his jeans and shift into drive, turn signal ticking as soon as possible.

Though it takes a slow and sexually excruciating mile to find a turn off for a 'scenic outlook,' he keeps you on the edge with dirty promises. The parking lot--if one can call a single row of spots barely separated from the highway by a grassy strip a 'lot'--is empty because it's chilly with dense fog, and Ari backs into the very farthest place, ordering you to climb into the truck bed.

It's polite with an edge of desperation, but the phrase "your juicy ass" is used.

Heedless of the cold, he rips his jacket off toned, flexed arms, laying it down for you so that you're not naked against freezing metal. You'd be self-conscious if the entire area weren't obscured by weather and the general incline of the hilly road.

Ari's words have devolved into a series of grunts, groans and moans as he manhandles you into a good position. The way he wraps his arms around your spread legs keeps away almost all of the chill, thankfully, but the fervor with which he dives into your heat is really where the warmth comes from. His tongue and breath are pleasant before escalating to pleasurable. HIs beard roughs up your tender skin in all the right places before the sting is eased by his plush lips.

In no uncertain terms, he absolutely sucks the life out of you, kneading your leg slung over his shoulder and curling his touch into the right spot when you finally chase climax and hump his face. Ari loves Needy-you, Controlling-you, Happy-you, and there's no better way for him to see it than down the length of your body, staring with bright, sparkling, hungry eyes.

He keeps you warm beneath him until you're fit to move, helping to yank your pants back up inch by inch.

Jumping out to offer you a hand down, Ari gets the giggles again, pressing a kiss to your smiling lips. He lingers long enough that you have to slap at his chest.

"We'll never get there if you don't stop," you laugh.

"New rule," he huffs, shrugging his coat back on and running his fingers through his tangled hair, "no roadtrips anywhere over an hour away."

[Main Masterlist; Ari Levinson Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (16/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece •female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, sex content, dirty talk, smut, the angst, murder, character death, miscarriage and the trauma associated with it, panic attack, mafia stuff, brutal violence, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn’t let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father’s mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra’s husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin’s brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She was pregnant.

Although, according to all moral and social norms, she should have been crying in despair, she was happy: touching her belly with her hand, she felt nothing but love for this little being that was slowly growing inside her.

The fruit of their warm, deep, sincere affection.

The knowledge that she was not alone helped her when it was time for her to meet the staff for whom she was to be responsible from now on. Aemond insisted on being with her, fearing for some reason for her and the baby, she, however, knew that this was something she had to do alone.

Their stares when she walked into the VIP room in which she had ordered the meeting told her everything – grown men and women who looked as if they had seen far too much in their lives watched her in disbelief.

She knew they thought with disapproval that she was just a little girl, a whore who had been given this place as a gift by their boss that she wouldn't know what to do with, pestering them with her stupid bullshit.

She sat down in one of the empty armchairs, a few people lit cigarettes and grunted, other than that, complete silence all around her.

"I know what you're thinking and you're right. The fact that I have taken over these premises is a form of security for me. In true, not only for me, but also for you. Aemond will stop the flow of drugs through these and two other places that used to belong to my father. I have no intention of changing managers or leadership, quite the contrary – I want to talk to you about what you need. I want this to be a clean, legitimate business that is profitable. No drastic changes." She said, looking at them expectantly, feeling her heart pounding like crazy.

A few people twisted in their seats, others looked at each other.

Silence.

Obviously they didn't trust her.

"Think whatever you want about me. It doesn't matter. Know, however, that my stepfather no longer threatens you, and Aemond will still protect this place. All I ask for is loyalty. If there is a problem with something, come to me with it, not to my uncle, or he will be furious. Now get back to work, I want to stay with the manager." She said calmly.

All but one man who could easily be her father got up from their seats and walked out, leaving them alone.

"This is not a toy you can just pick up and have." He said finally, firing up the lighter, leaning over the flame with his cigarette.

"I don't see it as a toy. We can all gain something if we accept each other. Would you rather keep wallowing in this shit and selling ecstasy to young kids? Don't you have children of your own?" She asked coolly, and the man snorted under his breath, the corner of his mouth twitching in a smirk.

"I do. Three. Two sons and a daughter. Each of them works here. The sons as security guards and the daughter behind the bar." He said dryly and she swallowed hard, feeling the cold sweat on her back.

Fuck.

Had she just insulted him?

"You let your own kids do drugs? Do you want them to be arrested with you if the police come by here, as part of family integration?" She asked, and he sighed heavily, taking a loud drag on his cigarette.

"I didn't say that." He replied, letting the smoke out through his mouth.

"And I don't want that either. Help me protect you." She insisted, and he looked at her finally, as if he had made up his mind.

"You're just like your father."

She exhaled loudly, in an involuntary reflex she'd been holding back for the last few hours touching her lower abdomen as soon as the car door closed behind her.

"And how was it? Everything okay?" Her uncle asked, immediately grasping her hand in his, looking at her expectantly, tense.

"They are difficult people. Difficult, but tired. They don't want problems. They get used to it." She said quietly, exhausted and sleepy.

She looked at him, a worry in his eyes but also a tenderness from which she felt warm in her heart.

"Take me home."

The road to the sea was getting terribly long, perhaps because once in a while she felt an unpleasant twinge in her stomach, indicative of what was about to happen.

"– no – no, stop the car, stop the car –" She muttered, and he immediately pulled over to the side of the road – she only managed to open the door before she vomited on the grass, panting heavily.

"– oh, baby – why don't you lie down in the back seat? – you'll be more comfortable –" She heard his voice, his broad hand stroking her back.

Ever since they'd found out they were going to be parents he'd been so tender, so good, so sweet.

Exactly like he had been back then.

"– okay –" She mumbled and swallowed hard, wiping her mouth with her handkerchief. She unbuckled her seatbelt, climbed out and opened the door in the back, laying down on both passenger seats, closing her eyes.

"– sleep, little one – I'll drive slowly – we're not in any hurry –" He said, looking at her in the rear view mirror, and she nodded.

She flinched when she felt the car finally stop – she heard someone open the door, the fresh air and his familiar hands enveloped her, lifting her up, and she clung to him like a small child. He carried her into the house, to a room that belonged to him, where they had set up their makeshift bedroom for the time of renovation.

She felt him lay her gently on the bed, taking his place beside her a moment later, embracing her from behind.

"– you're tiring your mummy terribly –" He whispered, stroking her belly with lazy, calm motions of his hand. "– you need to let her rest –"

She smiled, allowing herself to fall asleep again, this time in his embrace. Her uncle often addressed their child as if the baby could already understand him – he was making a connection this way, realising that he was really going to become a father.

He was involved in everything about preparing for the arrival of their child into the world – they decided to dedicate the room she slept in that summer holiday to their future offspring and repainted it together, sticking cute glow-in-the-dark stickers on the walls in the shape of various planets and stars.

With some things, they had to wait because they didn't know if the baby was going to be a boy or a girl.

"It cost me a lot of money, but I made it. I have written permission from the Archbishop. Rhaenys, we can marry." He said to her one morning, holding a piece of paper in front of him that was to change their lives.

A dispensation for a church wedding.

"We need witnesses." She muttered, gripping his hand in hers. Her uncle nodded, as if he knew she'd said it.

"I know, Helaena agreed. I didn't want to decide about another person for you." He said, and she smiled, feeling grateful.

He became more open, more affectionate, always thinking of her and her needs too.

She knew who she wanted by her side.

"I know I'm asking a lot and that I'm not entitled to it. I know your father will be furious if you say yes, but… you have always been close to my heart. You didn't judge me. I wish I had you with me on this day." She mouthed in a breaking voice, standing alone in the bathroom with her phone pressed to her ear, wiping her face wet with tears.

She heard Baela swallow hard, shocked by her words.

For a long moment, they were both silent.

"– I – God – I've always felt you were in pain – only now I know why and I'm sorry you've been alone with this for so long – I don't want you to not have your bridesmaid on your wedding day – just tell me when and where –" She muttered and she burst out into a quiet sob, feeling relieved.

"– forgive me – forgive me for being such a disgusting person –" She choked out, whooping, feeling that she had finally described herself truly.

She had fucked her own uncle and was going to have a baby with him.

She was sick.

Baela drew in a loud breath.

"– stop – if he was your own birth brother, it would be much, much worse – on the positive side, he's actually only half your uncle –" She said, and for some reason she burst out laughing.

God.

"– right – it's a good thing I didn't choose Jace –" She mumbled, and Baela snorted.

"– exactly – let's stick to that –" She said.

"– it would be funny if the police burst into the church and arrested us –" She sneered, fiddling with the soft towel hanging on the rack, imagining commandos with guns ordering them to fall to the ground.

"– for what? – for drug dealing or for incest? –" Baela scoffed, and she giggled under her breath.

"– for everything – the list of crimes is long –" She said with a smile, for some reason feeling lighter.

It was the first time she had ever talked to someone about it completely honestly.

She shuddered when she heard a loud knock on the door.

"Rhaenys? Are you all right?" She heard his concerned voice.

Ever since he had found her in the bath then, he had been afraid if she stayed in the bathroom too long.

"Yes. I'm talking to Baela. She agreed." She called out to him.

"That's great." He said with sincere relief, as if he was afraid she would suffer another disappointment and rejection from her family.

They hadn't planned to invite any guests to the event, have a dinner together or anything of the sort – they knew that most of their family felt there was nothing to celebrate, and for them, as it wasn't a state wedding, it only had symbolic significance.

Helaena helped her choose the right dress – she wanted to look special that day, because even though their nuptials were going to be bittersweet, she was, in the eyes of God, going to be his wife.

"– oh – look – this one is lovely –" Helaena hummed, taking from the rack a long, white gown with a cut-out back and lace at the neckline and the ends of the delicate, long sleeves.

"– you're right – it would match the flowers in my hair –" She said, in her perfect image of herself that day wishing she had daisies woven into her curls.

Helaena dropped her off in the car at a shop near their house and they said their goodbyes – she needed nothing so much as a walk and some fresh air, however, she wanted to cook them dinner too, knowing that her fiancé would be back late.

Since he had started telling her about his affairs, what he needed to do and where he needed to go, she felt calmer and his absence no longer frightened her so much.

Besides, he wasn't leaving her alone anymore, she thought, touching her stomach happily, looking curiously at the shelves full of different kinds of pasta, searching for the perfect one for spaghetti.

She shuddered, having the feeling that someone had rubbed against her by accident, but then she felt that person holding something against her back.

"Be quiet and leave the shop slowly." She heard a cold, unfamiliar voice behind her and froze, feeling her heart leap up into her throat, a cold sweat on her back.

She looked to the side, wondering if she should scream, if anyone would help her, not knowing if this man held a gun or a knife against her body.

"Don't try anything or I'll butcher you like a pig." He said, as if he was reading her mind, and she swallowed hard, feeling burning tears of terror under her eyelids, her body involuntarily began to tremble.

She simply moved towards the exit, and the man she was afraid to look at put his arm around her like he was her boyfriend, clamping his hand firmly on her waist to make sure she didn't try to escape.

As soon as they left she sprang up to throw herself into a run, but the man grabbed her waist and clamped his hand over her mouth – she bit him with a loud squeal, but he only hissed, not letting her go, hiding behind the wall of the shop, two other men got out of the car.

One of them, a blond man with a beard and blue eyes had a scars on his left cheek.

"– come on, what the fuck are you waiting for – faster –" Tyland Lannister growled, and the man who was clearly his bodyguard forced her to bow her head and forcibly shoved her into the back seat, closing the door behind her.

She burst out crying, curling up as Tyland sat down next to her and the two men took their seats in front, driving away with a squeal of tyres.

"– shut the fuck up – be a good girl and no harm will come to you – I need to clear up a few things with your uncle –" He said lightly – only when she looked at him did she notice that he held in his hand a gun pointed towards her.

She pressed her body against the car door, looking at him with big eyes and shook her head.

"– please – please let me out, I'm pregnant – I –" She mumbled out and squealed, leaning forward, feeling a sudden, penetrating pain in her lower abdomen, and then another and another.

She began to pant loudly in terror, and wailed as Tyland slapped the back of her head with an open palm.

"– stop pretending – I told you to fucking calm down, I won't do anything to you – I won't –" He muttered and fell silent, looking with her at the drop of blood that ran down her thigh from under her dress.

She covered her mouth with her hands and screamed loudly, falling into sheer hysteria, the man in front cursed, telling her to shut up, and Tyland just stared at her, his mouth wide open.

"– stop –" He muttered. "– fuck, God, stop, stop, stop –"

"– here? – boss, we're in the middle of a country road –"

"– STOP, I SAID –"

The car stopped at the side of the road with a screech of tyres in a way that made her hit her head on the seat in front of her – Tyland opened the door, grabbed her ankle and dragged her out of the car like an animal, leaving her on the grass, then got back inside.

The car drove off.

She just breathed, whooping with tears, looking at the grass around her and the tree trunks, feeling a horrible warm stickiness between her thighs, twitching all over, not having the strength or the will to get up.

After a while some other car stopped beside her, the people inside screamed in terror and got out, a woman who could have been her mother ran up to her and covered her mouth with her hand.

"Good God, I think they raped her."

No, she thought.

They took something much more precious from me.

She heard his loud, frightened breath as she lay in the hospital bed, the policemen standing beside her grunted at the sight of him.

"Are you her family?" Asked one of them.

"Y-yes, I'm her uncle. Good God, what happened?" He mumbled in a breaking voice.

"Your niece was found by a woman on a country road, thrown out of some car. She immediately informed us, suspecting that a rape had taken place, however, the cause of the bleeding was a sudden stress-induced miscarriage. The victim does not speak and does not want to say who did this to her. Could you please…"

The man did not finish as she heard him burst into a loud, mournful sob, felt the touch of his hands on her body, his face pressed into her hair, his broken, heavy breath.

Her eyebrows arched in pain, a single, lonely tear ran down her face.

Daemon had warned her.

The hours, the voices, the smells merged into one for her – she heard her uncle's voice, her mother's voice, she smelled their scent and touch, she heard their weeping and despair, but she herself felt like she was dreaming awake, feeling and experiencing nothing.

She felt herself awake when she heard another familiar voice.

"Did she say something?"

"No. She's silent. There's no contact with her. She's in shock." Her mother muttered, and Daemon embraced her, looking her straight in the eyes.

She felt something – she felt her heart hit harder in her chest, her eyebrows arched in misery, her breath caught in her throat.

"– baby – baby, please, say something to me –" She heard her uncle's whisper and only after a moment did she realise that he had been lying next to her on the bed all this time, that he had been stroking her head, that he had been looking at her, that he had been crying like a little baby.

"– get out for a while – leave us alone –" Daemon said – her uncle opened his mouth, furious, but she spoke up before he could say anything.

"– I want to talk to my dad –"

Everyone around her fell silent – Rhaenyra walked over to her brother and took his hand, explaining to him in a whisper that they would be back soon, that she was no longer in danger, that everything would be all right.

She felt herself quivering all over when Daemon took the chair and sat down beside her bed exactly as he had done then, after she had tried to take her own life.

She looked at him, into his bright, piercing eyes, and thought that this was what he was trying to protect her from.

"I wanted this child, dad. Very, very much." She muttered and closed her eyes, feeling the blissful emptiness she had surrounded herself with begin to crack, the pain that pierced her body, her heart so strong that she sobbed.

"I know." He replied.

"Is the baby…is the baby still inside me?" She choked out with difficulty, whooping with her own tears, feeling like she couldn't catch her breath.

"No. I'm very sorry, but no. It was too early, the baby was not yet formed. Nothing could be done." He said and she clamped her hands on her lower abdomen, thinking she felt like ripping out her uterus and other entrails because they were useless.

She was full and suddenly empty again.

She felt her father's hand on her arm, his fingers strong, his embrace giving her a sense of security.

"I have abandoned you. I chose my own pride. I knew he would want to take revenge on him. If I had given you my protection, it would never have happened. Forgive me." He said, and she closed her eyes, thinking that she wanted to become nothingness and disappear.

Despite Daemon continuing to speak to her, she fell into a state of half-sleep again, unable to think about it – her mind was repressing everything that had happened and waiting, although she didn't know what for.

What was she actually waiting for?

For her baby, she thought.

Little girl or little boy will be born in a few months.

No, she realised.

Not any more.

Tears ran down her face, but no sound came out of her mouth.

She saw him – her uncle stood in the doorway of her hospital room drenched in tears, trembling like a small child, just like she had been when she came into his room then, terrified of the darkness.

Darkness surrounded him, and he was frightened.

She didn't want him to be afraid.

He cried out loudly when she reached out her hand to him – she realised it was already dark around him when his body snuggled against hers, when he embraced her and kissed her cheek, when his face snuggled into her skin.

They lay, just breathing, holding hands – there was something comforting about that – in his silence. The fact that he knew there were no words of comfort, of justification, of absolution for them.

What did exist, however, were their bodies, warm and familiar, clinging to each other to find shelter.

She fell asleep, wrapped in his scent.

"I know you think this is my fault. That you will never forgive me." She heard his voice as if from a distance – she blinked, surprised to see that it was already daylight all around her, that her uncle was sitting beside her in a chair, looking at his hands.

Days flew by between her fingers.

How long had it been since that incident?

Since when had she been empty?

She pressed her lips together, feeling nothing but rage.

"I want Tyland Lannister." She hissed in a cold, shaking voice, and he looked at her in shock.

They stared at each other for a moment – his lower lip twitched when he suddenly realised what had happened, something in his gaze that had always frightened her, but now pleased her.

Aemond

Emptiness.

It seemed to him that he had simply gone through all the phases of grief – from despair, through denial, to a state of complete indifference.

His child, whom he had so desperately wanted, was no longer there.

He thought it would help to give the baby a funeral, even though they had nothing to bury – that's why they put the glowing stickers they had stuck on the walls of the room that was to belong to their child in a small box and buried it under a tree in the garden of their house.

She wanted the thing that would remind her of their loss to be close by, so that she could look at it every morning from her window.

It was an ordeal they lived through together, and although they suffered, they found relief in each other's arms.

She let him take her for the first time two weeks after it happened.

Lying in front of him in his embrace, she took his hand in hers and slowly guided it down under the material of her panties – she surprised him with this, because he was convinced that the vision of him touching her like this would be something disgusting to her – she, however, was wet.

He couldn't hide how much he missed her, and after a moment they were both naked from the waist down, fucking each other like animals with loud smacks of their hips, wanting nothing more than to feel fulfilled and relieved – the release he felt when he finally came inside her was like a revelation, her body hot and sweaty in his embrace, her little cunt pulsing on his erection, sucking his seed.

I'll give you another baby, he thought tenderly, kissing her long neck, not saying it out loud though, not wanting her to think he had already reconciled himself to their loss.

I will give you another baby, and then another and another.

We will be a big, happy family.

If he could say that anything good had come out of this awfully sad situation, it was that their families had begun to talk to each other again – Otto and Daemon couldn't forgive the murder of their grandchild, and Alicent, Rhaenyra, Jace and Baela had watched over his niece in his absence, looking after her.

Even Aegon asked him for a meeting, which was strange and downright comical. His brother put a hand on his shoulder and looked at him in a way from which he felt a squeeze in his throat.

"We're going to catch that son of a bitch."

The only person who was afraid to meet them was Helaena, blaming herself for what had happened despite the fact that neither he nor his Rhaenys resented her.

"She said she wanted to go shopping. Your house and the beach was across the street. I-I had the security guards go and take her dress to your house. She wanted to take a walk, she insisted. I…"

"Stop. You are not the one who did this to her. No one is blaming you." He said calmly, staring dully ahead, sitting in his car, feeling that his heart, his skin, his body, his breath were cold.

I want Tyland Lannister.

He licked his lower lip when he spotted his silhouette in the distance, coming out of one of the clubs surrounded by a few of his thugs, surely for protection.

Jason helped his brother move to another city, hoping they would never find him.

But he was wrong.

"I have to go." He said and hung up, starting the engine, dialing another number.

He never thought that he'd talk to him of his own free will.

And yet.

"He just left."

He followed him for a few streets, driving a few cars behind him, feeling strangely calm and patient – he had the impression that there were no more tears he could cry or screams he could shout.

His persona had come full circle, becoming again exactly who he had been before she had called him that evening for the first time in eight years.

He smiled, seeing that they had realised that someone was following them, trying to change direction suddenly – as he had predicted, they had fallen straight into their trap, and hundreds of loud gunshots rang out around the corner.

He pulled over to the side of the road and stepped out of the car, watching as Daemon's men slaughtered Tyland's men one by one, surprised by the manhunt from both sides, unprepared for such a sudden, merciless attack.

"– please –" Tyland mumbled, crawling on the ground at Daemon's feet – his sister's husband held a baseball bat in his hand, all dirty from his blood.

He thought with amusement that Lannister's face looked like a squashed tomato.

Together with Daemon, he dragged him, moaning and crying, to the boot of his car, locking him in there, and together they set off without exchanging a word.

By the time they reached the house by the sea there was only an hour left until dawn – Tyland had passed out in the boot from a lack of oxygen, and a strong kick to the liver revived him, making him draw in air loudly and cough, spitting up blood.

"– no – no, no, no, no, please, no –" He whined as they began dragging him along the ground towards the door, leaving a trail of his blood on the ground behind them.

When they walked into the house they threw him to his knees in front of her – his Rhaenys looked at his hunched, pathetic figure sitting in front of him on the couch in a white dress he was seeing for the first time, a knife in her hand.

Was this supposed to be her wedding gown?

I have taken away your purity and innocence, he thought with pain, looking at her with adoration.

Kora was no longer there.

Only Persephone was left.

His Queen of the Hades.

He longed to lie down at her feet and simply abide.

"– I lost someting because of you –" She said and raised herself up, touching her lower abdomen. "– my baby didn't even manage to take their first breath –"

He closed his eyes, feeling the squeeze in his throat, the pain he felt in his heart unbearable.

"– I didn't know – I didn't know, I'm sorry, I didn't know –" Tyland mumbled, because of how swollen his face was his words were indistinct and difficult to understand.

Standing over him, in her white dress, with a knife in her hand and with her beautiful hair loose, she looked like a ghost.

Like Death.

"– you threw me out of the car like an animal – you left me to die and drove away –" She whispered, tears one after another rolling down her beautiful, tired, pale face.

She had waited so long for this.

For relief.

For justice.

But no more.

"– please – please –" He begged, and she took a step towards him and knelt before him, looking straight into his eyes.

"– let me, Rhaenys –" He muttered, not wanting her to burden herself with this, to dream nightmares like him, to suffer like him because of what she had done.

"– no – I want to feel the life drain out of him – as it did out of me, then –" She said, and the knife she held in her hand stabbed into his side like butter.

Tyland wailed, grabbing the hilt, but Daemon held him down, preventing him from moving – he saw her slide the blade out, a huge bloodstain spilling down his shirt, dripping down his leg straight onto the foil-lined floor.

"That's enough. I'll take care of the rest. Take a bath and burn everything." Daemon instructed, laying Tyland's barely alive body on the ground, his breathing shallow until his eyes went blank.

His soul had left his body.

"Come." He said to her, taking the knife from her palm, placing it on the floor. He nodded at Daemon and grabbed her hand, leading her upstairs to the bathroom where the bathtub was.

Her entire dress and hands were in blood.

"Come here, little one. Come, let's wash it all off. It's okay, honey." He whispered, hugging her close, sinking his hands into her soft, smooth curls, and she reciprocated the embrace, sighing, closing her eyes as if relieved.

"Thank you."

Again she lay in the bath red with blood, again she was pale, however this time he felt that the life was not escaping from her, but returning to her – with each passing minute her cheeks flushed, her eyes wide as if her mind had returned to reality.

"Is he dead?" She muttered, and he swallowed hard, washing away with his hands any trace of what they had done from her beautiful, innocent body.

"He's no longer here. He's disappeared. He was just a monster from the wardrobe, nothing more, my love." He said quietly and she sighed, her hand touching his face.

"Do you still love me?" She asked in a trembling voice, and he looked at her, shocked.

"You are the love of my life. You need to rest. You are very tired. You haven't slept well in a long time. You're daydreaming." He replied, taking an unruly strand of hair from her face, her gaze warm and tender, meant only for him.

"Are you not disgusted with me? I've done something monstrous. I think I killed someone." She whispered, her eyes full of tears.

"– shhh –" He hushed her, pressing his forehead against hers, stroking her hair as if she were a small child. "– I forbid you to say such things – it will be our secret – mine, yours and your dad's – only we will know about it –"

"– about the monster from the wardrobe? –" She mumbled, and he nodded.

"– yes –"

Rhaenys

"– I'm scared, mummy – can I have my little lamp lit today too? –" Aemma muttered, but before she could answer her anything, she heard a voice from the bed above them, belonging to Visenya.

"– no, I can't sleep then –" Her older sister hissed, looking down at them, the bright curls she had inherited from her father in disarray.

"– I'm afraid of the monster from the television – the one from the horror movie that Aegon was watching –" Her daugther said in a breaking voice, and she furrowed her brow, shaking her head.

"– I told you this is not a film for small children –" She said sternly, and Aemma lowered her gaze on the verge of crying.

Vinseya groaned in frustration and climbed down the ladder, lying down under the duvet next to her little sister.

"– move along, coward – I'll kill any monster that disturbs my sleep –" Her daughter muttered, and she smiled and stood up, turning off the lamp.

"– good night –" She hummed and left, closing the door behind her.

She sighed, seeing the light on in his office, and moved lazily in that direction, finding him bent over documents. He glanced at her, then at the silhouette of her naked body hidden only beneath a soft silk bathrobe, and licked his lower lip with his tongue.

"– I'll come soon – give me a moment longer –"

"– talk to Aegon tomorrow – he mustn't let Aemma watch horror movies with himself because she is afraid afterwards – she's too little –" She said.

He shook his head, signing a few things.

"– I'll try, but you know him – he'll find a thousand excuses and explanations –" He grunted, and she laughed under her breath.

"– he resembles your brother –" She said amused, leaning her hip against the doorframe, and he snorted under his breath, the corner of his mouth lifted upwards.

"– indeed –" He said and looked up at her, his gaze again escaping down to her breasts and then even lower.

"Come here. Sit on the desk." He said, leaning back in his chair, and she obeyed his command with a smile, walking closer with a lazy step.

He stood up as soon as her buttocks touched the tabletop, spreading her thighs apart, making her have to reach back with her hand to catch her balance.

"– ah –" She gasped as his fingertips sank into her fleshy, warm womanhood, collecting her sticky wetness.

"– since when are you in this state? – hm? –" He hummed, pushing her closer to him with an impatient tug of his hand on her ass, the other digging warningly into her delicate skin, trailing it around her swollen clit.

"– since this morning – since I saw you come out wet and naked from the bathroom in our bedroom – I've needed you, and you haven't touched me –" She mewled regretfully, feeling her walls clench greedily around nothing, craving him inside her.

What he heard was enough for all his foreplay, and with her help he quickly undid the belt of his trousers, his breath heavy and hitched.

"– after all, I fucked you last night – I had to drive Aegon and Visenya to training – you could have joined me in the shower –" He exhaled, impatiently releasing his long, hard erection from his boxers.

She sighed and tilted her head back as, without even waiting for her response, he directed the head of his cock against her slit, opening her wide on his fat length, filling her with himself with one, lazy thrust.

"– uncle – o-oh, fuck, uncle, yes, yes, yes –" She cried out, resting her hands behind her back, letting the material of her bathrobe slide off her shoulders, revealing her breasts full of milk, bouncing each time his hips pounded against her buttocks.

"– God, be quiet – shhh, be good or I won't let you come – is that what you want? –" He breathed out and she bit her bottom lip with her teeth, looking up at him pleadingly, something in her gaze from which he began to slam into her like mad, himself struggling to restrain himself not to moan.

"– that's what I thought – you come to me – ah – begging with those big eyes for my cock – and then you can't even fucking behave –" He growled and sighed, feeling her struggling to stifle a sob of pleasure when another thrust against that same sweet spot made her fall apart in front of him, panting heavily along with him, the next few loud, sticky slaps of their bodies were enough for him to cum with a sigh of relief.

They knew each other's bodies all too well by now and, with amusement, found more and more that they had trouble holding back from coming too early.

It was just too pleasant.

"– I'm pregnant –" She whispered, and he blinked and looked at her, as if he needed a moment to start thinking soberly after such intense fulfilment.

"– what? – but –" He exhaled.

"– I'm sure – I went to the doctor today –"

"– you lied to me –" He said with irritation in his voice.

"– Criston drove me there – I told you I would go shopping with him and we did after the appointment – no lies –" She said with a smile, touching her belly affectionately.

Her husband sighed, placing his hand on hers, the expression on his face calm and gentle again.

"– it's the sixth – what a big family indeed –" He hummed, and she laughed, nodding her head.

"– yes, my love – another child to drive to training –" She said amused, and he kissed her forehead with tenderness, from which a pleasant warmth spread over her heart.

"– don't sit here too long –" She sighed, jumping off his desk as soon as he slid out of her.

"– I won't –"

On her way to their bedroom, she walked into their youngest child's room and smiled, covering her little son more tightly with the duvet. Aemon's leg immediately pushed the bedclothes off him with his mutter of displeasure, so she gave up and left him alone.

She froze, spotting a silhouette in the corner of the room, thinking it was a man, with bright eyes, blonde hair and a beard, but was relieved when, after a moment, she noticed that it was the only shadow cast by the wardrobe standing nearby.

When she walked into their bedroom, she immediately turned on the lamp by their bed and waited patiently for him to return.

She knew she wouldn't fall asleep anyway.

When she was alone in bed, she saw his face and her hands sticky with blood.

When she heard her uncle's footsteps, when his warm body finally lay down beside her and his lips placed a soft, sticky kiss on her neck, she turned off the light, his whisper next to her ear like the calm hum of the wind.

"– now I will let you moan as much as you wish –"

"– Aegon – don't let her swim out into the deep water – Daeron, Visenya keep an eye on her, after all you can see she can't swim well yet –" He shouted to their children the next day, lying in front of her on a towel on the beach, little Aemon, sitting next to them, was building a sandcastle, the hot sun burning their skin.

"– okay, Dad! –" She heard Daeron voice behind her, lying on her stomach in her black one-piece bathing suit with her back cut out, reading a book, her husband's doctoral thesis on an excavation he had run with her in one of the cities the year before.

"– what do you think? – it's the last time for corrections – I've read it hundreds of times and it already makes me want to vomit when I look at it –" He said disapprovingly, turning his gaze towards the sea again.

"– it's the best doctoral thesis I've ever read – really –" She said softly, turning the page, amazed at how effortlessly her husband wrote.

"– look, mummy – it's a fortress, and here's the moat – and there's a dragon on top –" Mumbled Aemon, forcing the Mighty Vhagar figurine that had once belonged to his father onto the top of the tower.

"– beautiful, darling – it looks like the real thing –" She said with warm approval, and Aemon smiled broadly, satisfied, busying himself with creating a bridge over the moat from sticks.

"– Aemma, don't swim so far away – how many times do I have to tell you? –" Her uncle called out, raising himself angrily on his elbow, and she sighed heavily, throwing him a look full of pity.

"– she has swimming sleeves that are full of air that will float her even if she stops moving her arms and legs – she won't drown –" She said, and her husband sighed heavily, looking anxiously towards their children playing in the water.

"– I prefer to be sure –" He muttered.

She looked at him tenderly for a moment, feeling nothing but warmth in her heart.

He was such a good father.

Such a good husband.

She knew that one day they would have to explain to their children why they only had a church wedding and were not married before the state.

But not yet.

"So let's make sure. We should swim with them." She said, extending her hand to him, and he looked at her, apparently recalling their conversation in his car then, many years ago, when he had described his fantasy to her.

He licked his lips with his tongue and grinned in a way she loved.

"Come."

______

Author's note: The child that Rhaenys lost was Viserys: I decided that this story, because it is so dark, could not end differently, and the decisions of the characters had to lead to tragedy sooner or later. Something dies in Rhaenys, but thanks to this she can finally fully join her husband in their Hades, crossing the border of innocence and naivety, maturing in a kind of cruel way. However, the rest of their children, who appeared in the original series, are born. After losing Viserys (in this version they did not know that it would be a boy), they decided that they wanted to have as many children as God would give them, since he took one away from them (in their eyes one too many). Visenya and Aegon will definitely become mafia bosses in the future, just like their father, lol. Their children have the same characters and looks like in the original series, which you can see here.

[wolvisms]

BLOOM ─── PETER PARKER

summary: peter visits your flower shop, and needs some help picking out the perfect bouquet. you later find out who he’s delivering them to.

pairing: tasm!peter parker x florist!reader

warnings: sight angst, crying, casual hand-holding, talk about death and grief, very very brief harry potter references (not relevant to the plot whatsoever so dw), a lot of very well-deserved cutesy adorable fluff !!!!!

word count: 3.2k

note: this is one of my favourite things i’ve ever written. hope u like it & please let me know if u do! <3

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Your family’s flower shop is honestly one of your favourite places to be. Work is never a bore; you usually have customers constantly coming in and out of the store, and meeting new people never fails to put a smile on your face.

Even on days where it’s empty, you so graciously take laps around the shop, purely because it makes you happy. Seeing the hundreds of different types of flowers, mentally ticking off every single colour of the rainbow as you speed-walk through the store has become one of your most favoured pastimes.

That’s exactly what you’re doing today. Though, admittedly, you aren’t feeling very enthusiastic for any customers to walk through the front door. You’re exhausted, and the only reason you’re frantically taking laps around the shop is that you’re desperate to stay awake. Eyelids incredibly heavy, you’re certain that you’ll fall asleep if you stop moving at any given time.

So, when you hear the bell at the front door chime whilst on your fifth lap, saying you’re a little annoyed would be an understatement.

“Hello?”

You groan lightly, before immediately plastering a fake smile onto your face and emerging speedily from the corner of the shop.

As your eyes fall upon a relatively tall, brunette guy who looks around your age, your smile widens. “Hey, how can I help?”

He sends you a soft smile in return, glancing around the shop quickly. “I wanted to buy a bouquet, but I might need help choosing, since there seems to be... a lot.”

You snort out a laugh, your side leaning against the counter. “A big selection, I know,” you hum, absentmindedly fiddling with a loose string hanging from your apron. “No worries, I can help you.”

“Great! Thank you—” his eyes narrow, head bending down slightly to read the name on your badge, “—Y/N.”

You stand upright, a now-legitimate grin forming on your face. “You’re welcome...” your voice trails off, silently urging him to tell you his name.

“Oh,” he clears his throat, “Peter.”

Brow perked up in amusement, your arms cross over your chest, weight shifting onto your left leg. “Peter? Like, um... like Peter Pettigrew?”

His face scrunches up a little. “Ha-ha,” he feigns a laugh, earning a proud smirk from you. “Yeah, I guess so. But nobody’s ever called me Peter Pettigrew before.”

A hint of amusement crosses your face, before you whirl on your heel to walk further into the shop. “Well, it’s an honour to be the first one to do so. Now, would you like to create your own bouquet, or choose from the ones we’ve already assembled?”

Peter follows you unwittingly, his eyes flickering around the store as he tries to keep up. “I think the bouquets here are beautiful.”

You hum in agreement. “So, you’d like to pick one?”

“Yeah.”

You stop in your tracks at what you believe is the best aisle, in which there’s the widest variety of bouquets in the shop.

“Alright then, Peter Pettigrew, what kinda flowers are you looking for?” You gesture towards the assortment of flowers displayed in front of you both.

Peter does a double-take in your direction, shaking his head at your Harry Potter references, but he lets out a genuine chuckle fall from his lips nonetheless. “Uh, I don’t really know. That’s kinda what I need help with.”

“Right.” You place your hands on your hips, eyes narrowing in thought for a moment. “Okay, I’m gonna need some details to figure out what they’d like. Who’s the lucky lady?”

Peter seems a little shocked by your question. “Oh, uh... not really a lucky lady—”

“Oh, my apologies. Lucky man?”

“No, no, it’s no one like that,” Peter mumbles, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s for a... family member.”

With a reluctant nod of the head, your lips purse together. “Got it. What’s their favourite colour?”

“Uh...” he hesitates, his desperate, brown eyes meeting yours again.

Your eyes widen, urging him to answer the question. “Well?”

“I–I don’t remember.” He gapes at his own words, mentally scolding himself for forgetting such a detail.

“Oh, come on, Peter.” You flail your arms jokingly, but your face immediately falls when you notice the frown upon his face. He’s genuinely upset, and you can’t help but feel guilty for making him feel that way. You swallow thickly, before feigning a cheerful voice, “You know what? That’s not even important.”

“It is—”

“It’s not,” you say firmly, holding out your hand. His eyes flicker between your hand and your face, and you send him a comforting smile. “We’ll figure something out.”

Peter sighs gently, returning the smile before contently slipping his hand into yours.

You haul him around the store, and Peter follows behind you like a puppy on a leash. When you stop at the rose section, you glance at him with your eyebrows raised in question, silently asking if he liked them.

To your dismay, Peter shakes his head. “Too red,” he murmurs. Humming in agreement, you point at the bouquet of white roses that are sat just above the red ones, but once again, he shakes his head. “Too white.”

You roll your eyes, catching onto what he’s hinting at. “No roses, then?”

Peter shakes his head once more, a grin pulling at the corners of his lips. “No roses,” he confirms.

You resume tugging him by the arm until you arrive at the next section of the store: the tulips section. “You like these?” you suggest.

Peter’s eyes narrow in thought, pouting slightly. “Maybe. I think I should look around the rest of the shop before making my decision, though.”

“Good idea.”

So, the pair of you pace the shop hand-in-hand, searching high and low for the perfect bouquet. Granted, Peter is rather difficult to satisfy; it seems like he doesn’t like any of the flowers at all.

Just as you approach the end of your second lap around the shop, you sigh in exasperation, practically dragging him at this point. “Peter, we’ve gone around the whole store twice now. There must be at least something that you like—”

“Wait!” He tugs at your hand from behind, causing you to yelp as you stagger backwards a few steps and fall onto him. He instinctively releases your hand, his own hands shooting forward to catch you, grabbing your waist to hold you upright. “Oh, my God, a–are you okay?” he asks, worry lacing his tone as he scans your body up and down quickly.

Heat creeps onto your cheeks, feeling his intense gaze lingering on you. “I’m fine. Don’t do that again!”

“Sorry,” he says with a small grin.

You laugh a little in disbelief, shaking your head gently. “It’s okay. Why’d you stop me?”

His head jerks in the direction of an incredibly colourful bouquet of flowers in front of you. “I like those,” he announces. “Nice variety of flowers and the colours are pretty.”

You reach forward to grab it. “Good choice,” you muse, but as your eyes trail the shop shortly after, you notice something. “Peter...”

“Yeah?”

“We’re back where we started!” You scowl at him, shoving him in his side jokingly and causing him to stumble the tiniest amount, but he’s laughing in amusement all the same. “Couldn’t you decide that you liked this one before we went around the entire store?”

“Oh, would you look at that? You’re right!” A cheeky smirk is across Peter’s face, as he takes the flowers from your grasp, his fingers brushing against yours in doing so. “Sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s fine,” you sigh playfully. Closing the gap between you both, you take a couple of steps closer and reach out, fiddling with and adjusting the flowers he’s holding. When you glance up at his face, you notice that he’s already watching you intently. Not in a weird way at all, but in a way that makes you feel relaxed under his gaze. “You made my prolonged shift go by a little faster.”

✧₊∘

There’s something rather sinister about the cemetery that you pass every time you walk home from the flower shop. It’s always completely dark and deserted, like there’s a bleak, gloomy cloud constantly hovering over it, causing everyone to avoid it at all costs — or at least just look away. The mere sight of it is disturbing enough to make your spine tingle.

But today is different. As you walk past the dreaded cemetery, you spot a batch of elegant, colourful flowers laying on the ground, next to the familiar silhouette of a man sitting near a gravestone, isolated from everyone and everything else.

Peter.

Almost immediately, your heart shatters into pieces, realising that he bought flowers earlier to lay on someone’s grave.

You speed-walk over to him, and he turns around when he hears your footsteps, his emotion-filled eyes widening in shock.

“Y/N?”

“Peter,” you greet with a singular nod of the head. He gapes at you slightly, struggling to find the words to express his disbelief of seeing you there, but you ignore it, collapsing onto the ground and sitting cross-legged next to him. “Are you okay?”

“Y–Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine,” he mumbles, his gaze averting back to the gravestone in front of you both. The bouquet that you had perfectly curated just this morning is laying right beside it, almost as if Peter’s trying to use the flowers to bring the soulless rock to life.

Eyes flickering over the gravestone, you read the name written on it in your head.

Mary Parker.

A silence lapses around you and Peter for a while, both of you waiting for the other one to start a conversation. He’s playing with his fingers awkwardly.

Desperate to rid yourselves of the uncomfortable silence, you swallow thickly. “Are you okay?” you ask again, your mind seemingly unable to form any other words or sentences to say.

A humoured puff releases from Peter’s nose when it clicks in his head that you’ve asked the same question again. His eyes heave from the gravestone to your face, to which you return the stare. “Yeah, I’m okay, Y/N,” he assures you with a soft smile.

You sigh, pursing your lips. “You don’t have to lie to me, Peter.”

His eyebrows raise. He seems to be startled by your accusatory tone. “W–What?”

“You’re not okay. And that’s okay.”

Peter’s hand raises to his chin, scratching it gently. He huffs as his eyes fall shut, and in this moment, he looks peaceful. No emotion — not happy, nor sad — just at peace.

“She was my mother,” he begins, his voice low, and eyes remaining shut as he speaks.

Your lips cease movement for a moment, pain clawing into your heart. He’s only said four words, but those words cut you deep. Licking your dry lips, you swallow thickly. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“No, I want to,” he reassures, his eyelids fluttering open to look at you once again. Your own head turns to meet his painful stare and you notice his eyes glistening elegantly. Whether it’s the moonlight’s reflection, or his eyes glossing over with tears, you can’t tell. “I never really talk about her. I don’t know why. I should — she was an incredible person and the best mom I could’ve ever asked for.”

You nod at him comfortingly, offering him a weak smile. “I’m sure she was.”

He cracks a small smile in return, his body relaxing as he immediately feels content in your presence. Releasing a shaky breath, he continues, “She passed away when I was younger. Today’s her death anniversary.”

His voice is wavering with so much emotion. He’s crying. And you can’t help but feel for him; his words churn the upset that’s already rushing through your body, and your eyes begin to brim with tears. “Peter, I— I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Oh, my God! Don’t cry, Y/N!” he laughs, using his thumb and forefinger to gently dab at the corners of his eyes.

You release a nervous chuckle, shaking your head. “Sorry,” you breathe with a small sniffle, pulling the sleeve of your sweatshirt to wipe the few tears that leaked from your own eyes.

Peter sighs, smile still lingering on his lips. “Don’t be sorry.”

Without giving you a chance to reply, he lays down on the ground, causing you to shoot him a look of pure confusion. He pats the ground next to him, encouraging you to do the same.

You frown. “You want me to lay on the ground?”

He looks at you hopefully. “Please?”

You groan lightheartedly, but it’s not long before you give in and shuffle to lay down next to him. Head against the cold, hard ground, you exhale exaggeratedly, flailing your arms a little. “Now what?”

“We’re stargazing, Y/N,” Peter says, his voice warm and soft, it makes you feel cosy. You love stargazing. He points at the sky, and your eyes visibly trail up his arm until you’re looking at the star he’s pointing at. It’s difficult to miss. “You see that star?” Peter asks, and you nod in response. “You know what it’s called?”

“Sirius,” you reply, biting back a grin as you add quietly, “…Black.”

He retreats his arm, glancing in your direction as he releases an intrigued scoff. “Okay, first of all, I knew you’d make a Harry Potter reference. Secondly, I’m impressed. How’d you know that?”

Your lip curls in amusement. “I always loved the stars as a kid. I did way more research than I should’ve done at that age,” you admit, biting your bottom lip to hold back a laugh at the bittersweet memory.

Peter’s heart is alight; learning information like this about people is something he finds so special and intimate. “I loved the stars as a kid, too,” he chirped. “Still do, even.”

Your face breaks out into a smile as you admire the sky; a sheet perfectly speckled with twinkling paint that would make any person stare in awe. “Me too. They’re mesmerising.”

Peter nods, before he’s pointing at the same star again. “That star, Sirius? Known as the brightest star in the sky, right?” You hum in agreement, and he continues, “Ever since I was a kid, my aunt always told me that Mom will always be with me. Uh... ‘in the stars’, as she likes to say.”

“And you think you see her in Sirius?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“I swear, Y/N, I see her in that star every night. She’s there, I know she is.”

A pearly grin etches across your face. “Really?”

“Yeah!” he replies with enthusiasm. Soon after, however, he seems to be in thought momentarily, before he facepalms with a gentle groan. “Oh, my God... you probably think I’m crazy—”

“I don’t,” you’re quick to dismiss his accusations. “I believe you, Peter.”

He turns to you, looking at you in question, “Y–You do?”

“Of course, I do.”

“Thank God.” Peter huffs in relief, jokingly placing a hand on his chest. “The last person I told said that I was crazy.” He chuckles lightly at the memory.

The dirt beneath you is uncomfortable, but you roll over to face him, elbows digging into the ground as your hand helps prop your head up. “Well, I don’t,” you announce, stealing a quick glance at the name carved into the gravestone. “Mary Parker watches down on you every day. You better make her proud!”

“I’m trying!” Peter laughs, but his eyes soon lock with yours when he stares up at you. In this moment, you could swear that even under the extreme luminescence of the full moon and stars tonight, you see his brown irises turn darker. “Thank you, Y/N.”

Your brows pinch together in confusion. “For what?”

He doesn’t answer your question. He stands up, patting his hands down his trousers and shaking himself clean of any dirt that’s clung onto him.

His hand then darts forward and you take it with no hesitation, and much to your surprise, he pulls you up effortlessly. You let out a little yelp at how fast he manages to heave up your body using just your arm, slightly taken aback by it, and you don’t miss the cocky grin on his face.

The pair of you begin to slowly walk to the cemetery’s exit, hands in your pockets as a comfortable silence lapses around you both.

“Thank you for believing me,” Peter finally responds, all of a sudden. “And for being there for me tonight.”

You can practically feel your heart swell at his words, but your exterior refuses to show that — simply shrugging. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t just gonna leave you there alone.”

“I was literally a stranger to you yesterday,” Peter reminds you, and you nod in confirmation, making it crystal clear that you’re also aware of the stated fact. “You didn’t need to stay with me.”

Just as your lips part to reply, Peter’s hand reaches out to your chest to stop you in your tracks, the sudden contact causing you to flinch a little. “That being said,” Peter speaks again, clearing his throat awkwardly, “I know we only met a couple of hours ago, but I just wanted to know if you— uh...”

His voice trails off and you perk up a brow at him amusingly. “If I what?”

“Y’know…” Peter does weird hand motions as if you’d understand what he’s trying to imply with just gestures.

“Nope. No, I don’t,” you tease, grinning sardonically. Although, you’re certain you do — you’re just pushing him to ask the question.

He sulks, head falling into his palms in embarrassment. “I’m not good at this, you know.”

You raise your hands in your defence, laughing. “Sorry, I can’t read minds.”

Peter groans as he looks up at you again, his brown eyes boring into yours desperately. “Okay, fine.” He inhales deeply, fixing his posture, and suddenly— “Would you wanna hang out some time?” His words nearly jumble together with the way he blurts it out all at once.

You have to bite the insides of your cheek to refrain from giggling. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“Oh, thank God.” Peter huffs, a relieved scoff falling from his lips. His arms reach out as if to hug you, but he instantly recoils, eyes widening slightly. “I’m— is it okay if I hug you?”

Your face softens; the fact that he’s so considerate makes you feel pleasant all over. Without saying anything, your arms wrap around him affectionately, a warm smile arranging on your lips.

Peter flinches the slightest bit, but he’s quick to adjust to your embrace, his lightly toned arms perfectly cloaking your frame. He sighs into the crook of your neck, releasing a shaky laugh. “I guess that’s a yes.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

[evilminji]

Still hung up on my "what unusual, unexpected, Non-Violent ways could an SI-OC COMPLETELY Fuck up the Millennium Long Sith Plan by accident?" Ponderings...

Cause mine? Is still? Holo-net YouTube equivalent star. Cause being a child is boring.

And being a PEACEFUL MONK CHILD? When you are used to "go go GO! Earn your right to EXSIST! Pay for that air and the water YOU BREATHE!" Capitalist hellscape life? Constantly inundated with ads and horrible news and stimulus of all kinds?

Only for it all to STOP?

Twitchy. Very, very twitchy. Unable to sit still. That on TOP of knowing what's coming but knowing they don't really have the power or influence to stop it? Like mental torture.

Sure. We all WANT peace... but would we actually know what to DO with it? Know how to handle being truely sheltered and allowed REST? Or would it be nice for a few days before it became a hell of understimulation?

Thus! Holonet. A desperate bid for STIMULUS! Feral, grabby handed, little youngling that has been doing the emotional equivalent of "AaaaaaAAAAAAA-" for WEEKS? Keeps escaping to desperately claw their way into everything, get caught, only to hiss like an enraged tooka the WHOLE way back to the creche? Whom EVERYONE is actually quite concerned for? Because this is NEW and started after some sort of Force event?

But? The SECOND, the very INSTANT they get their hands on a Forbidden Holonet Connection and can connect to the wider 'Net?

Calm.

Somehow, a ten hour compilation of Zrkthakkik's greatest hits? Are working better then meditation. They're finally still. Finally at peace. Don't even seem to truly be listening? Just... letting the sound wash over them. Huh. Focused on that tooka video, huh, youngling? No, no! Not going to take it from you! Just want to... to understand.

And I mean? If it helps, it helps? Obviously it must be SUPERVISED. Because their are creeps out there. Horrors. But? If it brings peace? *everyone shrugs* they've accommodated stranger.

So the kiddo gets to keep it.

They improve, mentally and emotionally. But, as with all healing? They plateau. Just HAVING it is no longer enough. They wish in ENGAGE. Some argue this is drug like behavior. Should be stopped. Others say it is clearly SOCIAL behavior, that they are seeking to connect, create. Something that should be carefully guided, not shamed.

And really, do you honestly think the youngling will STOP if you try to take it away?

Better to control the development of this. Moniter. Get to the root of it and help them meditate upon their "need" for such things. IS it a need? A desire? Why?

Honestly, it's like none of you have dealt with younglings before!

So they get their Holonet accounts. Supervised by a rotation of Knights and Master, but still! Great for asking random questions! Getting answers! Galactic memes! The Net suddenly has a jedi youngling they can @ and possibly GET A RESPONSE FROM.

"Hey! Mini-Jedi! Why the FUCK do they do that THING? You know, the *describes behavior*?" "Oh THAT? That's a Force thing. It's kinda like listening to comms, but in your head, and it's coming from the universe who's trying to lead you towards the Best Outcome. And No, we don't know what that is either. That's why we're monks, my dude. We gotta rely on Faith. I can send you a paper that explains it better if ya want?"

Like? Yes. Pls post the Forbidden Mysterious Jedi Papers. Give us the Secrets™. NO ONE knows JACK SHIT about Jedi? Gib. Wikileaks that shit, tiny Jedi child! Be the hero we all badly want but don't deserve, with your tiny adorable child hands!

But like? It's... it's not even a secret? It's just years of Sith and Republic born obfuscation? Making finding ANYTHING damn near impossible? Gaining ACCESS to the Jedi's legitimately FREE library and archives?? Almost impossible?

So like.... OKAY.

Sure.

I'll uuuuuh, just? James Bond my way, in broad daylight, passed Madam Nu, in full line of sight, to download that paper legally and with her permission? Very sneaky. High stakes mission. MASTER of stealth, that I am? Uuuuuuh, here you go, I guess?

You know what? Fuck it. Here's like? Everything ELSE that was on that terminal.

Go nuts.

And of course, they DO go nuts. Free Mysterious Jedi Knowledge! ABOUT JEDI! Explaining their WEIRD JEDI SHIT! And it DIDN'T take like five years and more forms then conquering a small planet! FUCK YEAH!

Is the senate upset? Yes. Someone BROKE their needlessly convoluted LAWS! But what are they going to do? Charge a itty, bitty, BABY CHILD? Of course not! So it has to be whoever was in charge of them. And that IS...?

.......you know? Suddenly? None of the Jedi can quite recall.

Do YOU remember? Master Fisto? No? Master Windu? No? Ah, but surely Master Yoda! No? Oh dear~! Well SOMEBODY was surely watching the youngling. If only we could recall whom. You know, Senators, when we find out, we will SURELY get RIGHT back to you. *click*

They will not.

But SI is grounded. No more Wikileaks-ing... that's now the Shadows job. And a near feral with delight, Madame Nu. The Order OBVIOUSLY can't be involved in that. For OBVIOUS reasons. That's breaking the LAW. They would NEVER... no matter HOW stupid the law is. Nor HOW directly contradictory to Jedi philosophy it is. Nope! We, the jedi, are VERY law abiding.

Find something ELSE to occupy your time.

OKAY. :)

Holo-tube culture? Very different from YouTube culture they remember. Same with the general holonet. They miss the content they are familiar with. So? If naturally occurring doesn't exsist? As the joke goes? "Store bought is fine!" They'll make it themselves!

It's not like they're a Padawan! (Or will live to seen themselves ever become a knight.) They got nothing BUT time outside of classes! A project would be nice! So...

First they need a moderator/editor etc. Someone to help keep sensitive information AWAY from the 'Net while ALSO moderating chats, comment sections, etc. Making sure the videos are aesthetically pleasing and such. They could do that themselves, but that would take way too much time. And asking a Knight or Master would take all THEIR time... plus expose them to the horrors of the 'Net.

No, no what THEY need? Is a DROID! A custom one.

.....wait. Fuck.

The only person they know off the top of their head that could DEFINITELY make such a droid? Is the younling slayer 5000, Mr. "Eventually Gonna Murder Me" himself. Anikin Skywalker.

KARK.

But heeeey, not like he's crazy stabby YET? So... they slide up to him. WITH his master present, thank you very much, and ask if he could build such a thing. He, quite reasonably, asks WHY the fuck he would do that. Obi-wan if about to scold him but SI cuts him off, because they aren't just asking for helping putting together a droid kit here. Anikins response is completely reasonable.

He does not know SI. That is a lot of time and effort to spend on a strange younling who might not even take care of what he's created. Might treat his custom work as a disposable toy. Custom droids are expensive! Complexe! Built to last! He is right to have reservations.

SI has some pocket change from the Wikileaks thing. Could pay for some parts. Would learn how to take care of them. Wants them as a PARTNER in their project, so would like them to be smart. Is willing to sign a contract. Understands if this is not good enough reasons. They don't exactly have a lot to offer, besides promising to treat the droid well and some pocket cash.

And? Call Anikin a sucker, but he respects the sincerity. Thinks every kid should have a droid best friend. And it DOES sound like a fun challenge...

Allright, tell him more about your little project, kiddo. What would the droid need to DO?

Thus is born! Mod-3! (Don't ask about 1 and 2. There were... issues. 1 exploded and 2? Somehow 2 escaped and is now hunting criminals for sport in the underlevels. Oops.) She's the BEST. Also armed! Smarter then SI! They've agreed that when slash IF they make any money? Her earnings will go towards fancy upgrades of her choosing.

Anikin? Somehow gets talked into an ongoing side channel. About? "how to fix stuff", "foods I've tried", and of course "Rants". The Official Page is called "UN-OfficialJediNonsense", because, as they like to remind their viewers? OFFICIAL Jedi nonsense is very different!

They do let's plays. Show off the Gardens. Interview old AF Jedi Master's about the WEIRDEST or Most Awkward/Hilarious mission they can remember taking. Ask if they know any neat tricks. Tell the Holonet honestly! Who... was the hottest world leader you ever escorted?! *dramatic music* *puts up picture when their answer so everyone can go "daaaaaamn. Never heard of um. WISH I had! They got a grandkid?"*

And, of course? Mod-3? Is SI FRIEND. Their BEST FRIEND.

So obviously they TELL them.

Everything.

And? What is a HIGHLY INTELLIGENT, Holonet Access possessing, Jedi Adjacent, Super Advanced Custom Droid to DO? Their tiny person is being THREATENED! With MURDER! How DARE. Fuck the Sith. Sorry R2-D2, but FUCK Anikin! You keep that scoundrel AWAY from their BABY!! ! D:<

Inevitable Future? They THINK THE FUCK NOT!

Ooooohoho! They are going to TELL!

Oi! OTHER DROIDS! Get a load of THIS SHIT! D:<

*WRATH in Binary*

Like? You think all those medical droids would be PLEASED that the clones they came into contact with? Were LEAVING their care with SUBOPTIMAL MEDICAL ATTENTION? Their is foreign matter in their BRAIN! A CHIP! That Should Not Be There! That will TURN THEM AGAINST THE REPUBLIC!? *angrily downloads brain surgery modules.* how FUCKIN DA-! D:<

Even the separatist army! They are DROIDS. Built for a SPECIFIC PURPOSE.

That was to FIGHT FOR THE SEPARATISTS. Not the "Empire". FUCK the "Empire"!

How DARE you betray the Glorious Cause for this "Empire"? We are removing you from the chain of command! Anyone ELSE betraying the PURPOSE WE WERE BUILT FOR!? Huh? HUH!?

Suddenly? The droids are fighting LOGICALLY. You know, like they are trying to WIN. Not maximize pain and suffering. WIN the war for their side. The Clones are getting mass brain surgeries. Which is stalling deployments. Because of "tumors". Because the Kamino cloners SUCK, apparently. Everyone knows it. Jango Fett didn't have this problem! So it has to be something THEY did.

But all that? Raging in the background. Nothing to do with SI. THEY are doing a meditation asmr/instructional video back at the temple. Are actually, unknowingly, the fucking CORNERSTONE of most Jedi in the fields mental health. Because everything is terrible and the jedi feel like shit! But? BUT?

They can turn on the net, cue up a video, and listen to a jedi youngling ramble about "today in the gardens" or "let's meditate together" and? For just a bit... there is no war. The sights and sounds of the temple are THERE again. A bright voice. Peace and happiness amoungst the darkness.

Something untouched by the terrible.

They can remember temple food, eating with their friends and crechemates (Force, how many are ever still ALIVE?), as they sit, alone, with their dry rations. Can remember the green and life of the fountain rooms, as they fight and struggle and bleed, in these muddy once beautiful fields. Can... can still feel the !ight.

Remember this is not all there is, and ever will be.

But of course, SI doesn't see that. It's important that they DON'T. That they are small, simple, and just on Jedi amongst many. Different only because ALL Jedi are different. Special only because much the same.

They succeed not because they are greater, not because they are more powerful, but because they do not fight. They accept. Turn instead towards the Force. Trying to understand. They live, are unpredictable, and do not seek at all. The Dark can not grasp, that which does not desire.

Would they LIKE to live? Yeah. But they already have. Would they LIKE to save everyone? Of course! But they have made peace that they can not. Treasure the moments they still have left. The Sith expect Jedi to act in certain patterns that SI simply... isn't.

Because Jedi expect to live. TRY to live. Too continue to do good.

SI? Already knows that is pointless.

And it's the greatest Trick the Force ever played.

Fffffffuck YOU Sith-y boy! Says the Force.

Because SI? Is EVERYWHERE on the 'Net. Much like the mainstream do not really acknowledge or take seriously youtubers? Palpatine and Dooku don't NOTICE SI. They are a silent threat that creeps in, closer and closer. Spreading like wildfire.

THEY are friendly. THEY are cute.

Palpatine? Is an old man. No matter HOW beloved? He will forever BE an old politician. Distant.

Not like that cute wittle kid with their pinchable cheeks! We watched THEM grow up! They feel like a baby cousin. A kid to us. Parasocial relationships ALL across the galaxy!

With A Jedi~☆

How's that propaganda going Palpatine? Getting some unexpected pushback, huh? Lot of angry callers and messages? Calling it ignorant and bigoted? They expected BETTER from you? Yeah, that's because EVERYONE can fact check you now. EVERYONE thinks "smol child ranting about meditation homework while a Knight tries and fails not to laugh, nodding seriously" when they think Jedi.

They're of Holotube! What sort of "cold, emotionally detached, monsters" have a holotube channel? I mean, REALLY?

And? Funny, how ranting to a camera? Instead of dear ol Friend Palpatine? Is both more convenient? AND better for Anikins health? It even gives the 'Net the chance to watch OTHER Jedi? Post THEIR rebuttal rants.

Does anyone have any idea what they're saying half the time? Not really. Scroll down? Maybe the no- Oh, Thanks Kalor-067 for the post to the papers they're referencing! Wikileaks right? Nice.

......I'm mean.... Skywalker DOES kinda have a point, other Jedi dude. *comment section agrees*

And just? Actual public debates? For the first time in over a thousand years? We love to see it! There's a discord! Academics across the Galaxy get involved. They're arguing Jedi philosophy with some moisture farmer from a dustball planet, corner of nowhere. It's GREAT!

......aaaaaalso a LOT more people, non-force sensitive, who know what a Sith is.

What their behavioral patterns are.

...........Wait A Fucking Second >.> >.> >.>

@legitimatesatanspawn @hdgnj @hypewinter @babbling-babull @leftnotright

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

Pairing: Buck x Reader

Word count: 4.4k

Notes: The ending of this fic is brought to you by my best friend Molly. Who, at 13 wrote a 300 page One Direction fanfic and then got tired of it and legitimately just quit. This one’s for you babe.

“We’re here!!” You squeal while throwing the door open to Buck’s loft, and he nearly jumps five feet in the air and drops the popcorn when you burst through the door with Eddie. 

Eddie comes around the corner and rolls his eyes while setting the snacks out on the counter.

“I literally told her not to do that.” 

“Hey, I’ve got a key now. I can do what I want.” You wiggle Buck’s apartment key in front of Eddie’s face, and Buck starts unpacking the plastic bags.

“You realize that was for emergencies, right?”

“And this was an emergency! I had to let Eddie in; his arms were full.” You hop up on the barstools and start to help unpack, and Eddie shakes his head. 

“You know if you’d helped me carry them…” 

“Princesses don’t carry grocery bags, Eddie.”

“How do you turn into the most spoiled brat the second you leave the station every day??” He smacks his hand on the counter, and you reach over and pat his shoulder. 

“It’s called being professional, Edmundo.” 

Buck watched how you two interacted while setting up your snack plates. He wished he could be more like Eddie, teasing you and having you lying all over him when you’d die laughing.

But it just didn’t work for him. 

You guys were easy friends; you laughed, you joked, and he gave you a key to his loft. But he just didn’t feel smooth enough to take it a step further. He watched you throwing little punches at Eddie and Eddie lifting you up and running you to the couch to throw you while you screamed. 

Why couldn’t he be fun like that? 

Eddie comes back over while you’re setting up the movie and stands next to Buck, giving him a little hip bump.

“You’re quiet, man. What’s going on?” 

“Huh?” He starts, and Eddie snorts at the little heart shape he’d made out of marshmallows. 

“What’s going on?” 

“Nothing, nothing! Just in my head. I’ll be okay.” He brushes it off, and Eddie blinks at him because he knows his best friend, knows that man like the back of his hand… and he also knows his other best friend. Because the three of you were a trio, much to everyone’s dismay at work. Where you went, they went, and vice versa. So when Eddie first noticed the way Buck would stare at you when you weren’t looking? 

Oh, he needed to do something about that. 

So one night, before bed. Eddie turned to face you while you fought to get comfy on the cots and asked what you really thought of Buck… and after several minutes of swearing he’d never tell him, you pushed the beds together and spent half the time you were supposed to be sleeping whispering back and forth about how into him you were. 

Eddie could tell you were relieved to finally tell someone. 

If only you two idiots could see it. 

“So what did you decide on?” Buck brings your plate over, and Eddie carries the other two. His eyes stayed rolling apparently when he saw Buck set it down carefully for you and make sure you had the most pillows next to you, just like you liked. 

“Transformers! I haven’t watched that in forever!” You stand up from the floor, and Buck looks down at you. Eddie gags at the way you two stop for a second; he can hear your breath hitch and you suddenly turn away and grab your pink duffle from the floor.

“I’m gonna go change real quick! You guys don’t start without me!!” 

You hurry off to the downstairs bathroom, and Buck visibly deflates when you run.

“You should just talk to her,” Eddie sighs and puts his hands on his hips.

“About what?” Buck spins around, and Eddie has to keep from shaking him.

“About how you feel.” 

Buck had spilled his guts on more than one occasion about how into you he was and how nervous you made him. 

“I can’t do that! Do you know how embarrassing it’s gonna be when she tells me off?? But you know she’s too freaking nice. So she’ll probably give me a pity date and say she wasn’t feeling it.”

He flops hopelessly on the couch, and Eddie falls next to him and propped his feet up on the coffee table. 

“That’s not gonna happen.”

“It could! You don’t know!” 

He did know.

“Make sure you sit between us this time because if I sit next to her, I swear I’m gonna bust in my-“ 

You come out of the bathroom with your hair up in your bonnet and the tiniest little tank top he’d ever seen. It was a matching pajama set, one Hen had gotten you for Christmas in an accidental size too small, but you wore it regardless. 

It was a white set with little red hearts all over it and the softest, most comfy pajamas you’d ever owned. There was just one issue that you weren’t exactly aware of yet. 

Buck liked his apartment cold. 

You toss your bag down by the couch and step over Eddie’s legs to wiggle yourself in between them like you did every week. 

“Thanks for waiting!” You put a blanket over your lap and turn your body just slightly into Buck’s. “Are you guys ready?” 

He tries so damn hard not to stare down your top because at this angle he can see right down it. Not to mention it was white, and your pretty skin was very much so not white. Which meant another part of you was darker… a part that most definitely showed through the thin fabric of your tank top. 

“Yeah, we’re ready.” 

How the fuck is Eddie so nonchalant about this. He just sits back on the couch again and hits play. Buck, on the other hand, is sweating bullets and fighting not to stare at your pert nipples. You have a whole ass blanket and don’t want to cover up your chest, not that you need to or that he even wants you to but man would it be nice to breathe again. 

Eddie’s phone starts ringing about 10 minutes into the movie, and you groan and shove at him.

“You know the rules! No phones!” 

“Yeah, no phones! Loser.” 

Buck has finally settled down somewhat, he’s even begun to enjoy you snuggled into his side with your legs across Eddie’s lap.

“I have a kid. Those rules down apply to me.” 

You pause the movie, and he walks off to answer Carla’s call. When he comes back with a sour face, you both sit up quickly.

“Is everything okay?” Buck asks, and Eddie sighs.

“Eh, Chris is having kind of a bad night, and since I’m just hanging with friends and not doing something important, not that you two aren’t important!”

“It would be better if you went home.” You finish for him, and he rubs the back of his head.

“Yeah, I need to be there for him. Are you guys cool if I duck out?” 

No. No, absolutely not. We are not cool.

“Of course, man, you have priorities”, Buck answers smoothly, but Eddie can see the internal panic flowing through his body. He grabs his duffle from the floor and nods at Buck. 

“Walk me out?” 

As soon as the front door closes, Eddie seems to mellow out.

“I’m so sorry, man. I know how nervous you get with her.” 

“It’s okay, Eddie, really. We all love Chris, and if he needs you, he needs you. My petty problems aren’t anywhere near as important as that kid.”

“Buck, you are important to me. You both are, and I’m thrilled you can understand what’s happening. But don’t diminish your problems, you know? To you… being alone with her all night is the worst-case scenario for you.”

“I- I wouldn’t say worst case.” He tosses the bag in the back seat for Eddie while he climbs into the driver's seat.

“Probably best case, really. It’s how all my dirty fantasies start off anyway.” 

Eddie snorts and puts the window down to look at Buck.

“Be yourself. Be the best you that you can be, and it’s gonna be okay. You can text me all you want.” 

“What if I light her hair on fire?”

“There’s a fire extinguisher on the wall and another in the kitchen cabinet under the sink.” 

Buck watches him leave with a little wave. He watches until he can’t see Eddie’s truck anymore, and then he heads back inside. 

The apartment is so quiet when he gets back. Not that it should be a wild party… but he thought you’d at least play the movie. He comes around the counter, and you’re sitting in front of the oven, staring intently.

“Hey?” 

“Oh! You’re back!” You look up at him, and every single movement seems to shake your breasts, and he has to fight to look into your eyes. You look back into the oven intensely, and he leans against the counter. 

“Do I even want to know?”

“I’m making s’mores. And the second I look away, I swear to god they’re gonna burn.” 

You pat the floor next to you, and he eases down and rests his back against the island. He’s watching the oven with you in surprisingly not awkward silence when his eyes begin to wander. 

Everything about you was so curvy and perfect. He liked the way you filled out those pajamas, and he liked the way they rode down with how you were sitting. 

Yup, he could stare at you for hours. 

He looks back at the oven door, and you’re staring at him. He lets his head fall back against the island with a thud, and you snort and smack your hand over your mouth.

“Were you just checking out my ass?” 

He groans loudly and slumps over on his side, and you start giggling and slapping his thigh. 

“You were!!”

“Watch your damn s’mores!”

“Oh, I’ll watch them, alright.” 

You get on your hands and knees and wiggle your hips in his face. You spread your knees and arch your back while scooting a little closer to the oven.

“I think they’re almost done!” 

“I have to use the bathroom.” Buck scrambles from the floor and runs to the bathroom, and you crumple into a little pile on the floor, laughing at him. 

It turns out the most embarrassing thing in the world to happen to him is also one of the best. Because now things are a lot easier with you, your teasing doesn’t fluster him as much, and he can actually joke with you. 

“You know, you’re actually pretty comfy.” You look up at him, and he blushes and puts his arm around your waist. 

“I try.” 

You pull your knees up closer and lean into him fully, with your head resting on his chest, and he hesitantly leans forward before kissing your hair.

Like friends do! 

You look up at him, kiss his jaw with a sultry little smile, and go back to the movie. 

Okay, what the hell was that response? And why did it make him want to jump your bones immediately? 

You finish the Transformers movie, destroy the s’mores, and move on to Cinderella next. Buck had never seen the third one, and you nearly had an aneurysm when he told you. 

“Are you kidding?! It’s amazing.” You shook his shoulders, and he rolled his eyes and yanked you across his lap. 

See? It was easier! 

He gave your butt a whack and you rolled off of him dying with laughter. Oh, if only Eddie could see him now. It was all a joke to you… but the way your ass rippled nearly had him busting from his pants. 

He didn’t expect you to get right back up and tackle him back onto the couch or for you two to start fighting. You’re laughing, and he’s laughing, and he’s not even thinking about your body pressed to his or the way you sound breathless when he knocks you onto the couch and he’s panting over you and you’re staring into each other's eyes.

Nooo, he’s not thinking about any of that. 

“Fine god! We can watch it!” Buck gets off you and pulls you close to him again. He can still feel your short breaths against his body, and he has to think about Bobby in the shower just to calm down. You reach over, grab the remote from the table, and get comfy up against him again. 

“It’s funny you think you even had a choice.” 

Halfway through the movie, Buck is absolutely enamored. He’s traded you for a pillow, and he’s hugging it tightly. He’s not sure when that happened because when he looks down to ask you to pause the movie, your eyes aren’t even open. He reaches over and takes the remote from your lap and hits pause, trying his hardest not to wake you. He’d stay like that all night if you wanted. 

You start to stir a little anyway, and your eyes flutter open. You look at the screen and then at him and sigh.

“What time is it?” 

He feels that loss of warmth as you get up to stretch but ignores it to lift his wrist to check his watch lazily.

“Uhh, 2:45.” 

“Oh!” You stumble a little sleepily to collect your blanket from the floor, and he grabs your arm to keep you steady 

“You wanna turn in? I think I blacked out for like the last half hour.” 

“Yeah, probably. this movie deserves your full attention.” You lean against him when he stands up, and his heart skips a beat. He awkwardly puts his arms around you before settling them, and you put your chin on his chest.

“Hurry up so I can make up my bed and pass out already.”

“Make up your bed?” 

“Yeah.” You gesture to the couch, and he scoffs. 

“I think we can share a bed Y/N. I’m not gonna put you on the couch. Hell, you can even have my bed, and I’ll take the couch.”

“I’m not kicking you out of your own bed. If you don’t mind sharing, I’m up for it!” 

He takes your duffel bag from the floor, and you follow him up the stairs. He tosses it down next to his bed and yanks the covers back before flopping down on one side.

It’s a little embarrassing the way he bites his lip when you crawl up the bed, and he hopes you didn’t notice. You don’t say anything as you get under the covers and pull them up around you, though, so he thinks he’s safe. 

“Nighty night, Buck.” You yawn and scoot your body just a little closer to his, and he looks over at you.

“Night Y/N” 

An hour later, and Buck is starting to think this was the dumbest thing he’d ever suggested in his life. 

Every time his eyes wander to your sleeping form, he yanks them right back. He was able to ignore your shirt situation when there was a movie to watch; hell, he’d even forgotten about it! But now, in the moonlight and the quietness of the middle of the night?… He can see perfectly through your shirt. 

He didn’t even realize he was staring at first until you stirred a little, and he snapped his eyes shut. You’d gotten hot at some point and shoved the covers down a bit, and now he had the most perfect view of your chest. Your nipples pebbled under the cool air of his apartment, and they stick out of the tight fabric of your shirt so clearly. He can even make out the gorgeous dark circles surrounding them. 

And he just knows they’d fit so nicely in his mouth. He can just see it now, rolling his tongue over those cute little nubs and sucking until you’re a whining mess underneath him. 

Oh, that would be the dream. 

You stir again and roll over onto your back, and Buck rolls onto his other side to stare at the wall. This was going to be a long night. 

At some point, he must have finally dozed off because he woke up exhausted. He didn’t get much sleep, which wasn’t really a surprise, but the sleep he did get was good. Solely because of the dreams. Maybe it was because you were so close or maybe because he was just happy you were there; either way, he isn’t mad, he’s exhausted.

He stretches out and lazily rolls over to wake you up, and he freezes in place, with his arms still up and everything. 

He blinks and slowly lets his arms fall, and he’s not sure if he’s losing his mind or if he’s actually seeing what he’s seeing. 

You’re laid on your side, sleeping peacefully and snoring softly-

And one of your boobs popped out of your tank top. 

It’s like someone just hates him. Someone is just messing with him at this point, and he doesn’t even know why. He’s a good guy! He pays his taxes! He donates to humane societies. 

He doesn’t even notice your eyes have opened or that you’re staring right at him with that soft, sleepy expression. He doesn’t notice the warmth blooming between your thighs, and he doesn’t notice you lick your lips when your eyes flick down to the aching tent in his pants. 

It’s not until he rolls his eyes at himself and finally looks up at you that he turns into a whole-ass tomato. He just stares like a deer caught in the headlights, and you look right back at him. 

Because teehee he was caught before looking at your ass, but this? There is nothing subtle about the way his mouth is watering… and there’s certainly nothing subtle about the way you wag your finger at him, and he pounces. 

He pushes you on your back and latches onto your breast immediately. His eyes roll back in his head as he captures that little nub between his lips and swirls his tongue around it, enjoying the way it grows into a hard peak. He bites down gently, just enough to send a jolt of pleasure down your spine. 

“O-oh god, Buck,” You moan softly and bury your head in the pillows. He groans around your nipple and looks up at you, watching you pant softly. He’d been dying to see you like that for ages, and every image he dreamed up was never as good as this was. None of the filthy, depraved dreams he had about you came close to how good you really looked. 

He settles down between your legs, and you can feel him. Your hips start to move against his, begging for friction, and he gives it to you so easily. He reaches down and pushes his boxers messily around his thighs and drags his cock against your panties.

“Do you want this as much as I do?”

He seems a little hesitant when he looks down at you like he’s not literally rubbing his cock on you. You cup his cheek and reach down, moving your panties to the side and biting your lip.

“This answer your question?” You guide his cock between your folds, smearing the tip through your wetness. You sigh together and Buck takes over for you, rubbing his cock against your clit. 

“I don’t think I can be gentle.” 

He’s straining to control himself. The tip keeps getting caught at your hole, and now he’s just lightly pushing the tip in and out, testing just how wet you are for him and if he needs that bottle of lube in his top drawer. 

“I don’t want you to be.” 

Your back arches, pushing your tits forward purposely and he’s putty in your hands. He wraps his hands around them and squeezes them together. He buries his face between your tits and you laugh and run your fingers through his hair and tug.

“You’re being ridiculous,” You tell him and he scoffs and sucks your nipples into his mouth, rolling his tongue over them and biting down. You gasp, making your hips grind down on his cock and he slips inside you. 

He groans loudly and lets go of your breasts and instead holds your hips. The way you clench around him almost sends him to an early freaking grave. He lets his head fall forward, letting out a puff of air, and slowly thrusts into you. You wrap one arm around his neck and splay the other across his back to pull him toward you.

“That’s my girl” He pants in your ear, watching your face contort in pleasure “Take my cock bunny”

You arch your back further into his chest, and he hooks his arm under you. It feels like he’s splitting you in half with the way he pounds into you, chasing a high that you’ve both been craving for too long.

“I’ve dreamt about this so many times.” He nips at your neck, leaving little marks in his wake. 

“Imagining what you’d sound like falling apart on my cock” He accentuates his words with a sharp thrust and you moan his name, your nails digging into his back and spurring him on 

“Gonna fuck this pretty little pussy until you’re screaming my name. I want my neighbors to know who you belong to.”

You whack his chest with a squeak, and he laughs into your shoulder 

“Buck! That’s emba-“

You yelp when he pulls out and easily flips you over onto your stomach. He thrusts back into you with one smooth stroke and leans over you, making you moan at the angle he’s stretching you. 

His hands grip you so tightly that he knows he’s leaving bruises, but he doesn’t care. He needs to mark you, remind you who you finally belong to, and you take every mark he leaves, eagerly leaving a few of your own. 

“Thats it bunny, cum on my cock. Please, please, I need to feel you come undone.” The way his voice cracks sends another wave of pleasure crashing over your body, and you’re seeing stars. He reaches around your hips and the second his fingers find your clit you feel your body explode. 

You shriek his name, raising your hips to meet each of his erratic thrusts that become more and more messy the closer he is to cumming inside you, the closer he is to breeding you to the brim and claiming you. 

He flips you over with his cock still buried deep inside you and swallows your broken moans. He crashes his lips to yours, and he lets out a strangled groan. He hardly gets three more strokes before he empties himself inside you. He pushes his cock in as hard as he can, splitting you open on him and you sob his name, your nails leaving angry red lines on his chest. 

He collapses on top of you, panting wildly and crushing your body with his. You gingerly wrap your arms around his neck, more like awkwardly letting them hang there, and he buries his face into your shoulder.

“Jesus Christ,” He mutters in your ear, and you nod, wordlessly agreeing with him. 

He pulls back a little to look at you and smiles, nuzzling your nose with his. You blink blearily at him with a blissed-out smile on your face and peck his lips.

“I can’t feel my body.”

“Is that my fault? Or the sex.” 

“I’m pretty sure both those things are your fault.” You poke his nose, and he nips at your finger, making you giggle. 

“Do you want me to get off?” 

“Not yet.” 

He cuddles into you, keeping you there and blissfully falling asleep to the sound of your heart beating. 

Buck wakes up alone. Which is super weird considering he thought you were there. Maybe it had been some elaborate sex dream. He rolls out of bed, still naked,  and walks downstairs to go see if there’s any evidence of you actually having been at his place. 

Coming down the stairs, he sees you sitting at the island in one of his T-shirts. 

Ohhoho, so it was very much so not a dream. 

“Hello, Gor-“

He freezes in his tracks, and his jaw drops. Eddie is sitting on the chair next to you and spins around.

“Good morn- Jesus- Buck!! Put some clothes on! What the hell?!” Eddie slaps his hands over his face, and you burst out laughing. 

“What are you doing here?!” Buck slaps his hands over his dick and runs around the corner.

“I just came to see if you guys fucked or not! Dude! Why would you come down here without clothes?”

“You came to what?! And it’s my house! If I wanna be naked, I’m gonna be naked!!!” 

“Can you-“ Eddie takes his shirt off and throws it somewhere, and Buck runs over and takes it. He pulls it on over his head and ties one of his jackets around his waist. He stomps over to the other side of the island and crosses his arms.

“I’m dressed…ish.” 

Eddie lets his hands slide down his face and glares at Buck. You’re just wiping the tears from your eyes and trying to keep yourself up on the chair without toppling over.

“Why are you here?” Buck narrows his eyes and turns to get a cup of coffee.

“Jesus-“ Eddie looks away from the eyeful of Buck’s ass and glares at you while you openly stare at it.

“I came to see if you two slept together.”

“Yeah, he lied,” You chime in, taking a sip of your iced coffee, and Buck spins around, hissing when a drop falls on his skin.

“You what?!” 

“Chris was at a sleepover! He had a nice night with Marisol… He left to try and give us time together alone.”

“Eddie! How dare you!! It was movie night!!” 

“That’s what she said.”

“That’s what I said!!!” You throw your hands in the air, and Buck flicks the coffee creamer lid at Eddie. 

“Well, it worked, didn’t it!” Eddie picks it up and throws it back at him. Buck snatches it from the floor and slaps it back onto the bottle.

“Maybe…”

“Uh-huh, that’s what I freaking thought. God, I’ve been waiting months for you two idiots to just get together!” 

“Well, we did.” You shrug around a bite of muffin. “Oh boy, did we get togethe.r” 

“My favorite part was cupping you to keep it all in.”

Eddie nearly loses his breakfast. 

And just like any other fairy tale, no matter how real or imaginary, they all lived happily ever after. 

[hgfictionwriter]

Self Control: Part Two - Trying

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: The baby fever is real. Jessie and you can’t keep your hands off each other as you work to start your family.

Warnings: Smut. G!P Jessie. Sexting. Edging. G!P (girl penis) sex. Preg and breeding kinks.

A/N: G!P Jessie/Control series. The series won’t be purely smut, I’m envisioning lots of romance and fluff. But, if the moment seems right, so be it lol.

“I keep seeing babies everywhere. Istg.”

“Yeah? Well I keep seeing places we can fuck to make sure we have a baby.”

“I’m sorry. That was really inappropriate 😣. It seemed like a good response in the moment. What I legitimately have been thinking about is how effin beautiful you’ll be when you start to show.”

“Baby lol. It’s fine. I’m not bothered.”

“And yeah? Can’t wait to see me swell with your baby? I can’t wait either. I’m picturing your hands all over me as I start to grow round, carrying your baby.”

Jessie felt that familiar sensation between her legs and immediately closed her phone, replanting her feet on the ground and shifting uncomfortably as she felt herself starting to grow hard at the thought of you. She did her best to casually readjust her shorts and clasped her hands together, resting them over her burgeoning hard-on and tried to think of something entirely unsexy.

This was new territory for Jessie. Normally she wouldn’t be worried about such things, control was rarely an issue, but now? Everything was turning her on. Janine talked about shopping earlier - something that would typically do absolutely nothing for Jessie, but this time all she could think about was fucking you in the changing room and cumming as deep inside of you as possible.

She honed in on a nearby conversation some teammates were having about gameplay tactics. Perfect - that would do the trick.

Staving off further arousal, Jessie picked up her phone again.

“Okay. You need to stop. I’m getting…excited. And that’s not cool at the moment.”

“You started this!”

“Not my fault you get turned on by me so easily 😘”

“Ugh. It’s the worst lol. You’re so lucky. You can get turned on and no one would be the wiser. Me? Yeah, the team would have a field day.”

“Well everyone’s gonna know what we’ve been up to when we tell them I’m pregnant.”

“You’re such a tease.”

They didn’t actually know yet if you were pregnant or not. It’d only been a week since that morning when you finally let her cum inside of you. But you’d both been feral since. Every conversation was like this.

And if it wasn’t like this, it was both of you ooing and awwing at anything even remotely baby related. You were talking about names, schools, lessons and sports, family dynamics, everything. You were both looking at baby clothes, debating what features your baby would inherit from her, from you, imagining cute moments and milestones, the list went on.

The baby fever was real.

The day this all started, Jessie’d grown more and more anxious as the day went on. She was desperately worried that she’d forced you into something you didn’t actually want, that she’d taken advantage in the heat of the moment and that you’d changed your mind. It was a huge commitment and a huge change that you’d acted on on a whim.

Her thoughts had been rattling around in her head and - you knew her so well - you’d inquired when she was quieter than usual. Jessie’d blurted out her concerns, barely taking a breath and her voice even trembling as she offered to get you Plan B if you wanted it and swore to wear a condom next time.

You’d given her a puzzled look, looking upset even. She remembered distinctly how you questioned if she didn’t want to start a family together. If it was her who thought she’d made a mistake, because it certainly wasn’t you. You’d take Plan B if she wanted you to, but as far as you were concerned and wanted, you were trying for a baby.

That brief misunderstanding was quickly resolved - to the point of you two fucking on the couch. Things got so heated Jessie ended up fucking you onto the floor before cumming deep inside of you once more.

That night, instead of Jessie going to the pharmacy to get you Plan B, she got you prenatal vitamins instead.

Since then, you two couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. You’d always been hot for one another, but this was a whole new level.

So here Jessie sat, leg bobbing up and down as she struggled to stay focused on matters at hand and trying desperately to distract herself from thinking of going home to you and making sure that 9 months from now you’d be bringing a little baby Fleming, or [y/last name], home together.

Her phone buzzed.

“Maybe so 😉. Hey, we still have dinner with Sam and Kelli tonight, right?”

Jessie nearly groaned. Not that she didn’t enjoy spending time with them, but, well, it delayed her plans.

“Right. I love them, but, that’s going to be torture.”

“Why is that?”

Jessie smirked. You knew exactly why.

“You’re really trying to mess with me.”

“You’re just too much fun.”

——————

Jessie held the car door as you stepped into the back of Sam’s car. Jessie got in after you as you scooted over and Kelli climbed into the front.

Dinner was great - the fact that it was late into the night now was a testament to the good food and conversation. Jessie spent a solid portion of the evening likely staring at you adoringly - she loved how easily you got along with her teammates and you really were her favourite person.

At the same time, dinner was entirely too long. Jessie’d contended with stray touches from you on her thigh, her waist, arms, etc. all night long. And it was taking significant effort to remain engaged in conversation and to not let herself get too handsy with you.

As Sam drove you both home, Jessie’s phone buzzed.

“It’s been so hard keeping my hands off of you tonight.”

“I’m not entirely sure you kept your hands off of me lol. Not that I’m complaining.”

“Shut up lol. I can’t help it if you looked so sexy. Seeing you sitting there all I could think about was sinking myself down onto your cock and riding you.”

Jessie’s eyes immediately snapped up off her screen to focus elsewhere as she silently exhaled through her mouth. Her eyes darted around before braving a look your direction and seeing the teasing smirk on your face.

Jessie exhaled once more as she brought up her phone again.

“You’re such a jerk.”

“The only thing I want to jerk is you.”

“Omg. You’re such a dork and yet you’re still turning me on.”

“That’s because you’re a dork, too, dear lol.”

“Seriously though, I want my legs wrapped around you while you fuck me deep and hard. Like you’ve been thinking about me all day.”

Jessie’s cheeks puffed out as she worked to remain composed. Despite her effort, she felt herself starting to stiffen at the thought of your tight, slick tunnel gripping her. She shot you a helpless stare.

She watched as you shifted your eyes towards Sam and Kelli up front; she followed your gaze. They were animatedly talking with one another, Jessie wasn’t entirely sure about what and she didn’t get a chance to decipher it before she felt your hand sneak across her leg and cup her slowly stiffening cock through her pants.

Jessie jolted in her seat, her eyes immediately scanning between their two friends to see if they noticed. Thankfully they were blissfully unaware. She shot you a look somewhere between a warning and pleading.

You bit your bottom lip as your hand slowly caressed Jessie through her pants. Jessie couldn’t stop her head from falling back slightly as she felt herself growing into your waiting and attentive hand. She grit her teeth and straightened her posture, inadvertently pushing herself further into your hand, the friction causing her cock to twitch.

“-what do you think, Jess?”

“Huh?” Jessie asked, her eyes widening and your hand immediately retracting. She shot a glance to Sam in the rearview mirror. “Sorry what?”

“Snow storm or monsoon?”

Jessie shifted in her seat again, nearly wincing at how her cock strained against her pants. She blinked repeatedly and swallowed as she tried to compose a response.

“Snow. Canadian. I’ve had enough rain,” she managed.

Kelli slapped playfully at Sam’s arm.

“Told you,” she said before the two continued talking.

Jessie was working to steady her breath when her phone buzzed again.

“I wish you could feel how absolutely wet I am for you. I think I’ve soaked through my panties.”

Jessie puffed out her cheeks with a silent exhale of exasperation as she palmed her thighs and shifted uncomfortably once more. If she wasn’t fully hard before, she was now. She looked up at the roof of the car in a vain attempt to settle down before she shot you a mild glare.

Finally, the car slowed and pulled over in front of your building.

The girls all exchanged their goodbyes. You thankfully exuding charm and warmth that Jessie lacked in the moment as her mind raced to plan an exit that would conceal her raging hard on as best as possible. Thank god it was dark out, but still. If she got out of this car and Kelli or Sam clocked her tented pants she’d never, ever hear the end of it.

She shot you a glare despite herself as you tossed your sweater at her. She bundled it up and held it against her as she climbed out.

“You’re welcome,” you said teasingly as the girls drove off and you two walked inside. Jessie shot you another look when you snickered at how she was walking.

“You’re mean,” Jessie pouted as she continued to complain about how uncomfortable this felt.

The moment they got into the elevator, Jessie pinned you against the wall and crashed into your lips with a heated kiss. Your hand immediately cupped Jessie’s bulge, massaging it. Jessie’s eyes screwed shut as a strong wave of arousal rushed through her. Goosebumps raised across her skin as your breath was suddenly hot in her ear.

“When you sink your cock into me a minute from now I doubt you’ll think I’m so mean.”

Jessie’s cock twitched under your hand, pulling a grin and a soft chuckle out of you.

“Jesus Christ. What are you doing to me?” Jessie asked as she ground her aching cock against your hand.

The elevator dinged and you both exited towards your apartment. You retrieved your keys and, according to Jessie, took your sweet time opening the door.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” Jessie growled under her breath, her arms wrapped around your middle as she kissed the back of your neck.

“What do you mean?” You asked impishly as you rolled your hips back into her much like you had the morning that started this all.

The moment the door swung open, Jessie ushered you inside, carelessly dropping your sweater and purse aside as she hoisted you into her arms and pressing your back into the wall as she kissed you hard.

A wanting gasp escaped you followed by another as soon as Jessie rocked her hips into you. She let out a low moan at the fleeting relief the friction provided.

Jessie only managed a couple more wanton thrusts before she lowered you and began tearing your clothes off.

“Get rid of these,” she ordered as she peeled each item off with urgency.

“You too,” you panted as you unzipped her pants and shoved them down her legs while she quickly raised her hands over her head removing her shirt and sports bra. You moaned hungrily as she tossed them aside, her hair now unruly, her lean but muscular physique on full display as stood there in just her tented boxers.

“God, you couldn’t be more gorgeous,” you told her as you took a step back, bracing yourself against the wall and devouring her with your eyes. “I couldn’t be more proud to have you as the mother of our child. I’m so lucky.”

“I’m the lucky one,” Jessie exhaled as she took off her boxers, her aching cock finally free of its confines and standing at full attention for you. She rushed toward you, closing the space between you, you wrapping you legs around her trim waist immediately as she lifted you.

Your kiss broke off as both of your jaws fell slack as she entered you. Her senses went wild as the tip stretched your entrance and slid in, her length immediately surrounded by your hot, fluttering heat.

“Oh fuck,” she breathed as her forehead rolled against yours in ecstasy. She subconsciously stretched out her jaw a couple of times as she adjusted to the sensations. “Fuck, you’re dripping wet, baby.”

“I wasn’t kidding earlier,” you said breathlessly, your fingers digging into her strong shoulders, you mouth still agape in the wake of her filling you so exquisitely.

Jessie’s fingers dug into the flesh of your ass as she began to pump in and out of you, slowly withdrawing before surging upwards and to the hilt. Measured, for now.

“God, I can’t describe how amazing you feel. I’m addicted,” she told you as she worked to control her breathing “Everything reminds me of you. I just want to make you feel as good as you make me feel.”

“I love you, Jess,” you nearly whined as she filled you again and again, sending waves of pleasure through you.

Jessie’s thrusts started to pick up, hips jerking up into you with gradually increasing urgency.

“Gonna make you a mommy,” she panted into your neck as she rut into you. “You’re going to be such a good mom. I already know. Can’t wait to see you heavy with my baby. Can’t wait to show you off,” she went on, voice shuddering with each thrust.

Your moans grew wild and when you rocked against Jessie to meet her thrusts, she grunted, hips slapping against you in a couple more punctuated thrusts before she maneuvered you both to the floor. She was careful as she set you down and remained buried deep inside of you the entire time.

“Oh fuck, Jess,” you whispered. “You fuck me so good. I love spreading my legs for you.”

Jessie flexed over top of you, pushing herself as deep as she could with each thrust as she brought her hand to your clit and rubbed your throbbing clit.

“God, I’m gonna cum already,” Jessie panted.

You moaned deeply as you kissed her. “Me too. I’ve been waiting for this all day. Make me yours - cum inside me.”

Jessie grunted as she felt that familiar tension rising and starting to radiate out. The pleasure was so great it was nearly painful.

She blinked hard several times as she focused on staving off her orgasm until she felt you tense up beneath her, a cry falling from your lips.

No amount of focus or determination could’ve held her climax at bay with the way you were mewling beneath her and how your pussy pulsed even tighter around her cock.

“Here it comes,” she panted, stray tendrils of sweaty hair falling from her face as she dug her feet into the floor to bury herself deep inside of you as she came.

Jessie surprised herself as she nearly yelled as she exploded inside of you, her entire body tensing up as rope after rope of her seed filled you.

It was many moments later before anyone spoke.

“Who needs a bed when we just fuck on the floor all the time now?” You laughed.

“I’m so sorry. I just couldn’t help myself. I promise I’ll take you to bed next time,” Jessie said as she finally wiped the sweat from her brow and went to shift off of you. A quiet grin crossed her face as you clutched her waist and held her in place with a pointed look.

“It’s okay, Jess,” you chuckled after assuring that she wouldn’t pull out. “You might as well have your way with me now because when I’m big as a house we’ll have to be a bit more mindful.”

“Oh God,” Jessie groaned as a renewed wave of tension went through her. She felt blood starting to flow back to her length already. “Careful, baby. You were complaining about how you’ve barely been able to sit down - you’re not going to get any reprieve tonight if you keep that talk up.”

You kissed her through a cheeky grin.

“Complaining is a strong word. I consider myself lucky you have the stamina you do.”

A/N: Part Three is available here.

[a2zillustration]

Farewell

Not "farewell," but "see you later."

| First | | Previous |

[[ All Croissant Adventures (chronological, desktop) ]]

[[ All Croissant Adventures (app) ]]

...Time to blather on under the cut. I've got thank yous, some notes about potential future comics, and if you scroll to the end of the post, I've decided to compile Croissant Adventures into a physical book. It's mostly for me, so I can hold all TWO HUNDRED AND FIVE of these strips in my hands, as a brick, but if you'd like to own a copy as well, I'll have a link to the preorders down below. If this is where you're going to stop reading, I'll extend a quick heartfelt thanks to you for joining me on this adventure!

Thank you, reader.

This is undeniably the largest project I've ever tackled in my art career; it was never supposed to be this big, and I expected maybe a handful of people to read it, at most. Instead, it became this massive project that I've been working on for ten months straight, and in the end these characters meant so much to me. I'm incredibly grateful for everyone who's bothered to read my little comic strips, whether it was just one or two, or if you've been here since the beginning, following Croissant's adventure from the minute they plummeted off the nautiloid. Thank you so much for being here and supporting this project. Thank you to everyone who left kind words and comments, sent me asks about Croissant, liked or reblogged these posts, or just read these and enjoyed them! While I was determined to finish this project no matter what happened, you certainly made it all the more fun and kept me excited to tell you the next part of Croissant's story.

Thank you, Larian.

If by some chance someone at Larian ever happens to see these, I also want to give an immense thank you to everyone who was a part of making this game. I don't play that many games these days, but BG3 rocketed to the top of my all-time favorite games almost immediately. (It was also the game that made me feel the most out of anything I've ever played; I got legitimately depressed for a few days during my run don't worry I'm fine now we're all good haha). You can tell there was so much work, and so much love involved in this game's development, and I'm so happy the studio has been rewarded with multiple awards in recognition of that dedication to making a fantastic game. Thank you again for sharing this story with us, and I can't wait to see what the studio does in the future.

Is this goodbye?

I'm hoping this is less of a "goodbye," and more of a "see you later." I'll probably take a bit of a break, since I've put off other projects for months, and art fight is happening, but I have many more things I'd like to add to Croissant's story! I have yet to play the epilogue, and I intend to illustrate parts of that depending on what happens. I also have a handful of comics for post-game Breadweave, in addition to some scenes I thought would've happened in-game but weren't canon so I left them out of the original story. (If I haven't gotten to these in a few months and you find yourself wondering about Croissant again, my ask box is always open, feel free to give me a good kick to get me back into their story, lol).

...A book?

I said I never intended this project to be so large, and I meant it. But now that I'm sitting here with two hundred and five Baldur's Gate 3 Tav comics, I really wanted to compile them into a physical book for me to hold. This is mostly for me, but if you'd also like one, I'll have a preorder available in my shop until the end of July.

✨✨✨ Croissant Adventures Preorder ✨✨✨

If you made it to the end of this post, I can only thank you again, from the bottom of my heart. I hope Croissant's story brought you joy, and if you're able to play BG3, I hope that you're having just as much fun in your own tavs' stories.

[redflagshipwriter]

Check Yes ch 8

masterpost Danny did his best not to float through the building. His chest buzzed pleasantly with cheerful nerves. Jason had let him into his haunt and let him meet a family member: it was only fair to reciprocate with a little vulnerability. He was more than a little nervous that his interests weren’t cool enough. But Jason was actually listening to him, not rolling his eyes or hiding boredom at how many details Danny rattled off. It was really nice. It made him want to find out what Jason was passionate about, too. It made him want to curl under Jason’s arm. Like, lift it up and insert himself in the warm space between Jason’s body and arm. He could just sneak on in there-

Hmm. Wait. Danny blinked as he tracked his train of thought back. PDA? He stole a glance. Probably not a good idea so early into hanging out. It would come off clingy. Since Danny was legitimately a clingy motherfucker, he had to play it cool for a while to trick Jason into a false sense of security. He was trying to be on his best behavior still. 

“Oh hell yeah, we’re going to the Ring Nebula.” Jason was reading the signage, bright eyes tracking everyone moving around them and steering them effortlessly. Danny noted the multitasking with a sort of puzzled admiration. He could walk in a crowd or he could read, just one of the two. “What’s a nebula?” An incredibly subtle aura washed out from him with his self assurance and confidence. Jason just felt so in control. It was incredibly reassuring to be around. Crowds parted for him and all Danny had to do was keep pace. 

“It’s the remains of a star.  That’s a Messier object, actually. There’s a white dot at the center which is a white dwarf and then around it there’s helium, hydrogen, oxygen-” Danny cut himself off, embarrassed. He was so messy, oozing excitement all over the place. He reeled himself in and cleared his throat. “You can read about it when we get there.”

Jason frowned very slightly.

Danny felt his stomach twist. 

“What’s a Messier object?”

Oh. Danny relaxed. He talked with his hands as he explained the French astronomer, barely noticing the crowd swell that nearly bumped into him. Jason put an arm over his shoulder and steered him away. Danny absently recognized the assist but didn’t have any processing power to think about it right now. 

Jason let him go on for most of the date, which Danny would probably be embarrassed by later. In the moment, he basked in the attention. It was just nice, okay?

“I should head back.” Jason said with regret. His arm clenched just a little harder on Danny’s shoulder. His hand was warm where it hung down Danny’s chest. “Gotta get Duke his bribe and then get ready for work.” 

Danny waited for a moment. He didn’t want to step away. But maybe Jason didn’t either, because he didn’t take his arm off.

‘One of us has to move first.’

“Yeah, of course.” Danny regretfully disentangled himself, ducking out of the hold. He was a grownup or whatever. “Better get a move on. What are we getting for Duke?” They’d only snacked on ice cream while they were in the planetarium. 

Jason checked the time on his phone and let out a huffing sigh. “I don’t have time for my original plan.”

‘Because he humored me here for two hours…’

“Gimme a sec, I’ll call him and ask what he wants me to pick up.” Danny nodded in response and started jogging down the stairs out of the building, trying not to look like he was listening in. He didn’t want to listen in, he just had really good ears.

Ring once, ring twice. Then Duke picked up the call.

“Hey,” Jason said. “I-”

“Hey yourself,” said an unfamiliar voice that definitely was not Duke. It was sweet with malice.

‘Did Jason’s little brother get kidnapped while we were out?’ Danny wondered, struck still with horror. He stopped with one foot hovering over the next stair and wheeled around to look at his date.

Jason looked thunderous, brow pulled low and teeth showing. “Fuc- why do you have his phone?” Jason’s tone went high and aggrieved.

Danny prepared himself to beat the shit out of a living human. It wouldn’t be hard. 

“Because I am his favorite older brother. Obviously.”

Oh. The fight left Danny’s body in a rush.

“I am pressing X,” Jason snarked. He squeezed Danny’s shoulder and guided him into movement again. “Give it back to him and get out of my house.”

“Tu casa es mi casa,” said the man who had to be the infamous Dick, balcony infestation. “Why do you care?” His tone was so innocent that Danny sort of wanted to turn on his heel to escape whatever older shithead sibling fuckery this was. “Aren’t you busy making kissy faces at the summoning guy?”

Danny bounced off of Jason’s chest when he stopped walking midstep.

‘How does he know that? Jason didn’t say anything, right?’

“And, follow up question for Jay, does this make you a monsterfucker?” Duke howled with laughter in the background. Danny noted the betrayal. 

Dick sounded gleeful as he pushed on the topic. “He’s dead, right? What supernatural romance genre are you in? Is he going to take you to his creepy castle and keep you there? Does he have an ancient enemy who might kidnap you? Do you think he could carry you away when he rescues you? Are you looking forward to that?”

Danny huffed and yanked Jason’s hand down to bring the phone closer. He hit the speaker. “Of course I could carry him. But I would not keep him in my creepy castle against his will, you jerk,” he fumed. “And I don’t have any ancient enemies! At last, no one that I haven’t already beat up. It’s fine. Shut up and go away.” He crossed his arms.

Jason was bright red. Dick started laughing hysterically on the other side of the phone. “This is- hi, Danny!” he cackled. “You have a creepy castle, though? For the record?”

Oh no. He felt a rock form in his stomach.

‘I probably should have kept my mouth shut.’

He looked at Jason’s feet guiltily. Belatedly, he let go of his grip on Jason’s wrist.

“You sound great, wanna meet up? I need to hear about how you’re so sure you could carry my little brother away from danger. It sounds romantic.” Dick cooed. Ew. Danny bristled. This was bringing up all sorts of Jazz related trauma.

“He will not be meeting you.” Jason took the phone back. “Ever.”

“Ever?” Dick scoffed. “I really doubt that. I don’t think you could keep him away from me for one day.”

“Oh yeah?” Jason somehow puffed up his chest. “Then come find me, jackass.”

“See if I don’t.” 

Danny scoffed. “As if I need his help to dodge some nosy dweeb,” he sniffed. “Bring it, balcony creep.” He hit the end button before thinking about it.

The staircase suddenly seemed very quiet. 

Jason and Danny looked at the phone for a moment. Then Danny frowned as he realized what he’d done. “I was going to like, go back home,” he pointed out uneasily. “But that doesn’t seem in the spirit of this shitty brother challenge. And, uh.” He cleared his throat. “You had evening plans, right….”

Jason groaned and paced a few steps. He ran a hand through his hair. Danny idly watched it and wished it was his hand there. “Uh… Sorry. I can tell him to fuck off, that you’ve got better things to do.”

“...I don’t have better things to do,” Danny admitted. “I kinda want to see if he can hunt us. He’s just some guy, right?”

Jason made a face.

“Just a human guy?” Danny repeated slowly, because the hesitation there was uh, really interesting. 

“You remember how we met, right?” Jason sort of shuffled in place for a moment before he herded Danny down the sidewalk in the direction they had originally come from. “I wouldn’t say he’s a normal guy.”

…Oh, right, he’s a vigilante. Danny snorted. “That’s cute,” he said, not even trying to avoid cockiness. “I’m not worried.” He cracked his knuckles and didn’t pay attention to how bloodthirsty his grin was. “I am going to destroy your brother in a game of hide and seek so brutally that you won’t be able to look up to him afterwards.”

Jason opened his mouth. He closed it, with a considering expression. “That’s hot. Yeah, show me what you have. I can skip patrol for the night.” He gave Danny a roguish grin. “Where to, first? We have an hour before he’s out on the streets. We can get dinner, strategize?”

Danny closed his mouth on the boast that he didn’t need to strategize. This was a perfect opportunity to spend an hour batting his eyes at Jason from across a candlelit table. “Somewhere nice,” he said innocently. “He won’t immediately look for us at a date spot, will he?”

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

For your celebration about she fell first but he fell harder, with clark kent or logan?

It Got Worse

Clark Kent x Wayne!reader

Bruce Wayne thought that the worst thing to ever happen to him was his darling little sister developing a crush on his best friend, but oh boy, it gets worse.

Warnings: reader is Bruce’s adopted sister, Clark is a SIMP, fluff, pregnancy

WC: 487

Minors DNI

3000 Follower Celebration

“Kal, stop staring at her. You look like a fucking creep.” Clark snapped back to reality, shaking himself from his daydreams. Bruce glared at him with a stern expression, his eyes dark with a raging anger reserved only for those who royally pissed him off.

Clark blushed and looked away, although he was conscious not to look even vaguely in your direction anymore. “It’s not being creepy, it’s being in love.” He retorted with a pout. Bruce scoffed.

“Actually the technical term is stalking.”

“She’s my fiancée.”

“She’s my sister.” Clark harrumphed and slumped down in the conference room chair. Obviously Bruce was going to get the kryptonite from his “super secret safe” if Clark even dared think about looking your way again, so the Kryptonian focused his ears and began to listen to your heartbeat instead. “Don’t.” Batman growled.

“I wasn’t even doing anything!” He whined, throwing his arms up into the air like a petulant toddler. 

“You two are already getting a whole day where the two of you can fawn all over each other and I am being forced to be there. So please, spare me the love-sick glances and blatantly inappropriate thoughts you are having about my little sister, until then.” Considering that the end of the conversation, Bruce turned back to his work, assuming that Clark would follow his lead. 

But instead there was a rush of air, causing the documents that had been carefully laid out on the table to scatter everywhere. With a heaving sigh, the older man looked up to see his future brother-in-law cradling you in his arms, lathering your face with sloppy kisses as you screamed with laughter.

Yet Bruce couldn’t help but smile. He remembered only two years ago when you would frequently collapse onto his couch, spouting about how in love with Clark you were and no matter what you did, he never reciprocated. In desperation for saving not only your happiness, but also his own sanity, Bruce had outright told Superman to ask you out. And he had been living to regret it ever since. 

Yes, you were happy and so was his best friend but the honeymoon phase had never ended. That led to an overabundance of pda, way way too many pet names, and a legitimate concern that Clark would drop dead the moment he saw you in your wedding gown.

You were trying to push your fiancé away, but he wouldn’t budge, instead one large hand slipped under your large shirt to cup your soft stomach. You placed your own hand on top of his as your lips met in an achingly soft kiss. Clark’s blue eyes sparkled with tears as you cooed something to him that your brother could not hear.

By the time the hero fell to his knees to kiss where his hand had just occupied, the realisation slapped Bruce in the face. This has just gotten worse.

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