#like look i'm not out to bash the countries like this

[gaywineauntsstuff]

Dick Grayson Olympics

Dick has absolutely been in the olympics multiple times by the point he's Nightwing.

Dick just also happens to have like 9 different countries in which he is a citizen. So he competes for a new country every 4 years and every time the olympics is near his phone gets absolute bombarded by a bunch of official teams and recruiters begging him to join.

He is also the world's youngest Olympian and gold medalist in general. (the youngest Olympian on record is 12 but Dick Grayson was beating up grown men by 8 so i'm starting there, he's an overachiever, no I will not accept criticism)

here me out

first one at age 8 right before his parents die, he competed for France

second one at age 12 and he competes for Italy

third one at 16 and he competes for Switzerland

fourth one at 20 and he's with Romania

you get where i'm going with this

There are 6 events and he wins gold in every one of them except one time he showed up hungover, concussed with a stomach flu (he got a silver on the uneven bars bc his vision was so blurry so he did it blindfolded so he wouldn't throw up.)

No one except Tim and Alfred know (Tim bc he's a stalker and Alfred bc Dick needed his help getting to the airport as a child) but he takes a sabbatical from work and does missions covertly in the countries he's competing in (not as Nightwing bc that would be too obvious)

He also refuses to compete for the USA bc he's still bitter about being thrown in Juvie and they can't make him

He leaves every medal by his parent's grave as a promise that he has not abandoned their dreams for him.

When anyone ever figures out he was in the Olympics he just smiles and said he competed for France once when he was a kid (bc its technically true he's only competed for France exactly one time) and he's like really bashful about it and says stuff like "oh even though my routine wasn't perfect as a kid it was still an amazing experience to have with my Mom and Dad." (he is absolutely faking the bashfulness he just doesn't want people to google him and see he's won 15 gold medals before he turned 25 bc then there are questions and he's a relatively private person).

Bruce doesn't know that Dick was in the Olympics because an 8 yr old boy who grew up in a circus would have no idea of scale. (this is based on a random fic I read where a 12yr Dick Grayson did not call Bruce when there was an active gunmen at school -he found out from another parent a week later- but called him absolutely balling, making him rush home from work bc someone stuck gum in his hair.

So 12yro Dick just tells Bruce he wants to go to an acrobatics competition and Bruce is like sure, okay how long will you gone? and Dicks like a few weeks. And because Bruce has no scale of normal parenting things, he does not see this as an issue.

By the time Dicks 24 he just doesn't tell Bruce because he thinks it's hilarious he hasn't figured it out yet. Alfred doesn't tell him bc he's hardcore judging the 'world's greatest detective' very British-ly.

The only Titans that know are Wally and Donna and they are sworn to secrecy.

And yes he is mad bc he likes the women's gymnastics stuff more bc he grew up in a circus and he thinks it looks more fun.

[auspicioustidings]

Based on this. You are in Finland full of self-loathing and the 141 needs a fat wife if they want to win some beer.

You aren't exactly on holiday in Finland. It should be your honeymoon but since you caught your groom balls deep in your maid of honour you instead have used it as an escape from the country. You just cannot be around the people you love right now, can't have them all look at you with all that pity. Even worse is that some of them probably don't even blame him. Your former best friend is a size 8, perfect hourglass figure. Your former partner is trim and decently fit. They look like they belong together more than you and him ever did.

You hate yourself. You hate looking in the mirror. You hate how clothes fit you. You deserved it you think.

"Not a chance MacTavish, that's my wife!"

"Away and biel yer heid, I saw her first!"

"Actually I saw her first!"

"I outrank all of you muppets so I think you'll find that is my wife!"

It's a racket in the little cafe but you don't pay much mind, still just staring out the window and wondering if you could ever deserve anything. One of the servers comes to take your empty cup and grins at you, telling you in her heavy accent that she would personally go for the one with the mask since he's the biggest. You don't understand when you look around and there are a lot of locals smiling happily over at you while four Greek Gods of men are having a scuffle, moving slowly in your direction. More people chip in, arguing about who you should pick, some lamenting that they would claim you themselves if they thought they could.

One big man does try, basically some Viking God, but he's playfully (you hope it's playful) spear tackled by the man with the mohawk before he laughs and backs off.

When Gaz with warmed cheeks and excitement in his eyes gets to you while Soap is busy with the viking and Ghost and Price are wrestling one another he asks if you'd do him the honour of being his wife. You nearly choke, but he explains that the wife carrying competition is today. You look around, bewildered, ask him why he wouldn't pick any of the other women in here given that they are all gorgeous slim things.

"Fuck all use to us, need a nice soft bird with lots of fat" says the man in the mask.

Price scowls and whacks his lieutenant upside the head because he sees how you look a second away from crying.

"You're gorgeous sweetheart, he didn't mean anything by it. The prize is the wife's weight in beer though, so he's right about a little lady not being much use."

You don't know what to say. You don't know if this is mortifying or not given that everyone around you seems to not be looking at you with sneers or laughing at you, but instead looking with soft smiles that convey fondness. They think this is adorable.

"Dinnae listen tae their nice soft birds and sweethearts! I'll be a better husband bonnie. I'm shorter aye bit look at the power in these legs, naw going tae drop ye. And I'll split that beer 50/50!"

And then they're arguing. The four of them are arguing and trying to put forward a case to you about why they would be the best husband. When it starts to get raunchy, you fluster and stop them. But fluster is something. It's not self loathing. It's been weeks since you felt anything but self loathing. So even though you are sure everyone can feel the heat rolling off of you in waves at how bashful you are under so much attention from such attractive men, you pick one (the others are devastated but vow that you're only a wife for the competition, that after they should get another shot at convincing you that they're the best option).

And they do. Even though the man you picked doesn't win (gets DQ'd actually since you are heavy and he decided that you were getting over that damn finish line so the four of them took turns) they take you out for drinks after. You think you feel humiliated that they couldn't carry you a long distance, but you don't have time to sit with the feeling because they drown it out with how warm and giddy they make you feel.

They insist that they will compete next year, so you have 365 days to pick a husband. When you make a quiet comment about how you'll lose weight by then so they can carry you the whole way, they nearly riot as they assure you that they would be a shit pick for husband if they didn't spent the year getting stronger so they can carry you just how you are. Plus they'll not be losing any beer thank you very much.

By the time the next wife carrying competition rolls around you are a different person. You're wearing clothes that fit instead of trying to hide your body. You laugh and flirt back with the barista instead of assuming they are making fun of you by flirting. And you don't care if your husband makes it over the finish line, just that you have fun and laugh and joke about the attempt. Of course it's not entirely certain who that husband is yet, got to keep them on their toes after all.

[flemingsfreckles]

Ol’ College Try (18+)

Synopsis: UCLA!Jessie x UCLA!reader You and Jessie finally have bedrooms no longer in a dorm room, meaning you finally have the chance to explore a new step in your physical relationship using a strap on.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), first time using a strap on smut, its a little awkward and clumsy, strap on (R Receiving), Oral sex (R receiving), little bit of frustration and embarrassment, language.

WC: 3.9k

A/N: Hi, I haven't posted smut in months, literally since July, I sort of fell out of the mood for writing it, I'm working on getting back into it but we'll see. I’ll also be honest, I finished writing this and couldn’t bear the idea of rereading it so I’m sure there’s errors, I apologize.

“You have to promise not to laugh when I turn around.” You rolled your eyes behind your girlfriend’s back at her sudden change from confident to less than, all due to some silicone and leather.

“I won’t babe, I promise, just come over here.”

“I feel like it looks weird.” You watch as Jessie swivels her head to peek at you over her shoulder. You had been watching the way her arms and back moved as she maneuvered.

“You can take it off if you’re not comfortable.” You reassure her from where you were laying on the bed, blanket pulled up around your chest, you were shirtless and had been okay until Jessie’s warmth had left as she moved off the bed, suddenly feeling chilly.

“No, I want to at least try, it’s just new and different. What’s that saying they have? ‘Give it the old college try?’”

You smile at your girlfriend “I think it’s technically ‘Ol’ not ‘old’ but yeah babe, it’s okay if you’re nervous, I am a bit.” You admit. You and Jessie have been dating since the third month of sophomore year at UCLA, now upperclassmen, you were able to move off campus and you each had your own apartments just a few minutes from each other. With the new living location came new bedrooms, bedrooms that weren’t shared with another student, bedrooms that didn’t have a lofted twin size bed, bedrooms that didn’t have paper thin walls.

You both had returned to school early for pre-season, her for soccer and you for cross country meaning when you weren’t at practice, your roommates weren’t home and the two of you had a lot of free time. No classes, assignments, projects, or other school responsibilities had started yet. Reveling in your reunion after spending the summer apart, you and Jessie had found yourselves making up for lost time, often in the sheets of each other's beds. Which led to you the other day texting Jessie, being too shy to ask in person, asking if she’d want to try using a strap on you. She had quickly agreed before telling you to send her what you wanted and she’d buy it.

You had been eager to try it, testing out new waters in your relationship. Jessie had giggled when you opened your front door for her this morning, she held a bag out to you with a silly grin. “I feel like everyone can tell what’s in the bag.” She said as you opened the top, peering in to look at the toy. You sweetly rolled your eyes at your girlfriend’s bashfulness, taking the bag from her hand.

It wasn’t long after she arrived that the two of you were in your bed, Jessie’s body weight holding you firmly to the mattress as she kissed you.

You kissed her back hard, enjoying the feeling of Jessie’s hands roaming your body while yours ran up and down her sides. The two of you made out, quickly losing your shirts, throwing back your head as Jessie’s lips came to rest on your neck.

“Don’t, I’ve got photos tomorrow.” You gently remind her as you start to feel her start to suck on the skin. A dejected noise falls from Jessie’s lips as she releases the suction, causing them to vibrate slightly against you. She moves on, kissing down your chest to give attention to your breasts. Your fingers tangle themselves in her hair, pulling gently, gaining a hum of appreciation from Jessie this time. The longer you make out the more impatient you get, starting to grind up into Jessie, trying to hint to her you were ready to move on.

Jessie finally climbs off of you and heads toward where you had placed the bag earlier on the chair in your room, beginning to mess around with the harness and toy, leading to now where she’s shyly peeking over her shoulder at you with the harness fastened around her waist and thighs.

When she finally turns around to face you, your eyes drop to her waist and your stomach clenches at the sight, your beautiful girlfriend and between her legs the bright blue toy. It somehow looked larger sitting against her body.

“Come ‘ere.” You wave her over, hoping to boost her confidence back up as you can see the way she avoids eye contact with you. She crawls onto the bed, waiting for a moment before moving over to you.. As she leans over the toy sticking out pokes you in the stomach. “Hey!” You quickly move your hand down to grab it, moving it away from jabbing into you.

“Oops sorry, I didn’t think about that, not used to having anything there.” She says, laughing slightly as she looks down to see your hand holding it. “Hand on let me just.” She says before pulling the toy to be flush against her stomach.

With the toy no longer separating you, she leans down, finally reconnecting your lips. She kisses you for a moment before letting her hand trail between your legs, her fingers moving the cloth of your panties to the side. You sigh as her fingers begin to work between your legs, collecting your arousal before coming to your clit to rub slow circles. She continues touching you, pulling small noises of appreciation and approval from you as her fingers work.

“Jessie, come on.” Whining into her ear and bucking your hips she finally gets the message and pulls her hand back.

“What, are you ready?” Jessie pulls away from your lips.

“Yeah, I guess.” You could feel a small pit of nerves growing in your stomach, you’d hadn’t done this before, you trusted Jessie, she wouldn’t intentionally hurt you or make you uncomfortable, but it was new to both of you. You make a quick movement to remove your underwear before tossing it to the side and putting your legs back on either side of Jessie.

Jessie sits back on her knees, hand falling to the base of the toy. Her other hand comes up to rest on your inner thigh, pushing it slightly outward, her eyes falling between your legs. A smile comes across her face and you have to look away for a second from her intense stare.

“Hand me that.” Jessie points to the bottle of lube sitting next to your head on the bedside table. You grab it, passing it to her and watching as she opens the bottle, pouring on the liquid. She brings her hand down to begin spreading it. “Oh, it’s kind of cold.” She looks at her hand for a moment, rubbing her fingers together before adding “and slimey.” The bottle gets returned to the side table and Jessie slides herself closer to you, the tip resting on your stomach.

“Just go slow.” You say, putting your hands around her shoulders and lacing your fingers together behind her head.

“I will.” She nods down at you before breaking eye contact to look down where her hips rested between your thighs. Jessie maneuvers and you feel the toy now sitting against your core. She moves it around again before looking up at you quickly then back down, adjusting her hips again causing the toy to move. You feel the tip of the toy bump against a place you definitely didn’t want it going. “Wait.” You push against Jessie’s chest and she looks up, nervously. “Um, higher up, that’s the wrong-”

“Oh my god.” Jessie immediately inches backwards from you. “I’m sorry.” You watch as she drops her head in embarrassment. “I know where it is with my fingers.” She mumbles to herself, her confidence slipping away more and more the longer she has the appendage on.

“Babe, it’s fine, here I’ll help.” You reach down to where the strap hung gently grasping just above where Jessie’s own hand was wrapped around the girth. You take the tip, letting it glide across your clit before beginning to move it downward slowly. “There.” You gently push the tip into yourself before removing your hand placing it onto Jessie’s shoulder. “Go ahead.” You say looking up at your girlfriend who still had a hint of fear in her eyes.

She gives you a small nod and you watch her body begin to move and you feel the pressure of her hips angling forward, the toy beginning to push inside. You can tell by her gaze that she's unsure of what she’s doing, watching you for approval. “Is this fine?”

“Yeah, I’m good, keep going babe.” You nod up at her. She gives you a quick smile before her concentration face returns, her eyebrows furrowed and her bottom lip being tightly bit between her teeth, her eyes wander to where the two of you are connected, still moving her hips towards you ever so slightly. You bite your lip, starting to feel a larger stretch as Jessie continues to push forward. It wasn’t painful, but there was a definite tightness as Jessie bottomed out.

It takes a moment but Jessie’s hips finally are flush to yours and you can feel the fabric of the harness against your legs. Lying there you try your best to relax your muscles, still feeling a little nervous and unfamiliar with what was happening. You're unsure of where to put your legs, did you leave them lying on the bed? Should you bend them, put them around her waist maybe?

“Does it hurt?”Jessie looks between where your hips touch and back up to your face.

“Not exactly, it's just bigger than your fingers.” Your eyes trail to her hands that lay on either side of your waist, Jessie had good fingers, long, thick, but nowhere near the girth of the toy.

“Just let me know when you’re ready.”

“Yeah, maybe try pulling back a bit.” Your fingers dig into her shoulders, anticipating discomfort when she pulls back, only finding it to be not uncomfortable, just weird.

“Right, okay.” You watch, her face still contorted in confusion and concentration. She slowly shifts her hips backward again, just a small amount and the drag of the toy inside of you has you sighing, a noise that causes Jessie to freeze. “Are you alright?”

“I’m good babe, keep going.” You encourage her, giving her shoulder a squeeze, before letting your nails gently rake along the skin of her back. She pushed back in the small amount she had pulled out before pushing back in again.

Jessie slowly pulls back again, this time she drops her head, watching the toy slide out of you. You can see her eyes widen in amazement as she watches.

“Like what you see?” Bringing your hand to her chin you gently pull her face up to watch as she blushes.

“Yeah, it’s good, it’s hot.” She says looking up at you. Jessie gets lost looking at you for a moment, her hips stalling for a bit before she picks up her motion again.

“You can try going faster, or maybe harder?” You’re not fully sure what’s going to feel good. Jessie nods, her curls bouncing in front of her face. Her face is trying to mask a level of uncertainty. “Don’t be so nervous babe, it’s just me.” You bring a hand up to her rosy cheeks, hoping the gentle touch of your fingers will reassure her again.

“I just don’t want to hurt you.” The sincerity in Jessie's voice is cute you think, she was really worried about hurting you more than anything. You also knew her concerns would likely prevent her from fully letting herself go, it would take some time and practice.

“You won’t, fuck me like you mean it.”

Her eyes widen at your vulgar ask before a small smirk comes across her face as she looks at you. She drops to her forearms, her chest meeting yours as she ruts harder into you. Her strokes become firm, a loud noise of her hips meeting yours fills the room for a second before you start hearing Jessie’s ragged breathing in your ear.

“Oh, fuck Jess.” Your words spur her on, she pushes herself up again, thrusting faster, using the full length of the toy.

You get lost in the sensation, letting small moans of pleasure fall from your mouth. Muffling your moans Jessie kisses you hard as she continues to speed up her movements. Her trusts are a bit uncoordinated, a hard one, followed by some quick ones, she’d then slow down, then some shallow, some deep. It wasn’t bad by any means, just unpredictable.

You feel Jessie pull slightly too far out, the tip falling toward the bed but notice she thrusts her hips forward. You bring a hand to her waist giving her a gentle push “Hang on, you slipped out.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s fine.”

“I’m not good at this.” You watch as she starts to frown, the little bit of confidence she had gained a moment ago dwindling.

“It’s the first time Jess, it’s okay.” Your fingers draw lazy circles across her back, feeling goosebumps arise on her skin.

“Does it even feel good?”

“I mean,” you hesitate, not knowing how to exactly answer. Before you can clarify why you hesitated, Jessie talks.

“I’m sorry.”

“No baby it’s not you. I think I’m nervous, and it’s just something new, and it feels good but not in the mind blowing orgasm way,” you pause looking up at Jessie, you didn’t want to take a hit to her ego. “It’s good though, just like you being inside of me, it’s nice.” You blush as the words come from your mouth, having to break your gaze with Jessie.

“Okay. Do you want me to keep going?”

“Yeah, for a bit maybe? But, can you add more lube please.”

Jessie gives you a smile and a nod, reaching onto the bedside table and adding the liquid onto the toy. When Jessie begins to move again she gently runs the head of the toy across your core, letting it bump against your clit, causing your breath to hitch. You feel the tip at your entrance again and you nod at Jessie when she looks up confirming she’s in the right spot.

There’s a different sensation when she pushes into you this time, you feel as though you’re filled again just how you should be, not even realizing how empty you felt before. You let out a sigh of relief.

“Good?” Jessie cocks an eyebrow at you, you can see the slight smirk across her face, pleased with the reaction you had from her movement.

“Mmmhm.” You hum up at her with a nod.

Jessie lowers her body onto yours, causing the strap to shift deeper inside of you, as the warmth from her chest comes to rest on yours. It feels close, intimate, her body covering yours, your legs wrapped around her back, her face tucked tightly into the nape of your neck. You can hear her heavy breathing as she picks up again thrusting into you. In this position her thrusts are slower but more even, less sporadic, she has more control.

As you go to wrap your arms around Jessie’s back, her hands find yours first. She takes both of her hands interlacing your fingers and bringing them up to rest by the sides of your head.

With each thrust into you Jessie gives your hands a gentle squeeze. It’s a simple gesture, holding hands with Jessie but in the context, it’s overwhelming. “I love you.” You hear her mumble against your skin before she places a kiss.

“I love you.”

After a couple thrusts, Jessie releases one of her hands from yours and brings it between your bodies, she fumbles around before her fingers find your clit and she begins rubbing circles in time with her thrusts. “Is this okay?”

You suck in a breath, the mixture of Jessie’s fingers and the feeling of being full is a new sensation, one your body is still trying to process. You focus on her fingers, fingers that knew your body well, they knew what you liked, what made you feel good and that's what they were doing, making you feel good. “That's good baby.”

Despite the added pleasure from Jessie’s fingertips, you can tell you won’t cum from this. Too in your head about the toy, the newness, the unfamiliar territory, it had you slightly on edge and not the edge you wanted to be on.

“Jess.” You say gently, you hoped telling her wasn’t going to make her feel inadequate.

“Yeah?” She picks her head up from your neck, you can see the small sheen of sweat on her forehead, her baby hairs stuck to it.

“This feels good, I promise, I just don’t think it’s going to, ya know, get me there.” You cringe as you say the words, worried about what her reaction might be.

“Oh.” Her expression is surprised for a moment before her face falls, appearing disappointed. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, babe it’s not your fault.” Holding her head in your hands you caress her cheeks. You think about what to say. If you mention you don’t feel comfortable enough, she’d blame herself for that though, it had nothing to do with her but Jessie always put her performance, in school, on the field, or in bed, on herself, even if it wasn’t her fault. You had to choose your words carefully with her. “It’s not you I promise. It’s me, I’m just not, I think it’s just I’m not used to there being something inside, it’s good, just new and I’m not quite used to it enough.”

Jessie nods in your hands but doesn’t say anything. You pull her down bringing her ear to your mouth. “Baby, you always make me feel so good, this is no different, you can still make me cum without the strap, that’s even better when you think about it, you don’t need a toy, it’s all you Jess.” Releasing the hold on her, she sits back up, careful not to move the toy around too much while still inside of you. “You always make me feel good babe.” You groan out as Jessie moves to trail her tongue down the side of your neck.

“Should I pull out?” Jessie asks, looking down at her waist.

“Yeah go ahead.” You try and relax as she pulls her hips back, pulling until the toy falls out. You notice Jessie's attention being pulled down to where the toy was now. “Hey.” She looks back up at you with a small half smile. “It’s okay Jess.” You pull her by the chin, bringing her mouth to yours, the toy sticking into your stomach again as she tries to lean over to kiss you. She giggles as her hand again reaches to press the strap up against her abdomen.

The two of you kiss, her tongue gently running over yours, softly pulling on your bottom lip with her teeth, causing you to let out a deep moan. She kisses your cheek, down to your jaw and up to place a sloppy kiss just below your earlobe.

“Can I eat you out?” She whispers following it with a couple more kisses down your neck.

“Please baby.” Your voice comes out more needy and wanting than you expected. You can feel her smirk against your neck and she continues to kiss across your chest, teasing you ever so slightly, taking her time moving down your body.

“Come on Jess.” Your hands find their way to her shoulders and you gently push her down where she was already headed, between your legs. She gives in, letting you push her between your legs. As she goes to lay down, the toy catches on the bed, preventing her from being able to fully lay down.

“Fuck this.” Jessie says sitting up and scrambling off the bed to remove the harness. You laugh at your girlfriend’s frustration with the toy as she pulls and fiddles with the various straps, until the harness loosens and falls off her waist. “Not funny.” Jessie grumbles, placing the toy onto the nightstand.

She wastes no time climbing back between your legs, her hands picking up your thighs and bringing them over her shoulders. She brings her face to your core, her tongue beginning to lick long strokes, appreciating your taste and the feeling of having her mouth back on you. She hums into you. Giving you a few more long licks, Jessie begins to pay attention to your clit.

She gives it a few flicks, her tongue firm before a slow circle around the nerves, her eyes locked on yours intensely watching as you roll them back, enjoying the feeling of her. “You’re so good at that babe, fuck.” You watch as Jessie's eyes light up at the praise. She always liked being praised, being told she was pleasing you. You feel her increase her pressure, adding more suction with her lips, putting all of her focus onto your clit.

“God Jess.” Jessie moans into you in appreciation of your words. Your hand finds the top of her head, running your hand through her hair before gently scratching her scalp, knowing the action spurred her on. You feel yourself finding the edge that you had been looking for, feeling the tightness in your stomach growing, the tightening of your thighs, your muscles all tensing. Your hand holds Jessie's head tight to you, your other hand fists the bedsheet tightly as you peak. Your hips thrust against Jessie's tongue, you feel her hands try to hold your hips steady to let her keep pleasing you, a groan of her name falls from your lips followed by a whine, beginning to feel the sensitivity of your post orgasm. Your hips buck a few more times, trying to escape the now gentle stimulation that Jessie was giving you to work you through your orgasm.

The grip on your hips loosens and Jessie pulls her tongue away after giving you one final featherlight lick, looking all too proud of herself and cockly when she pulls up, resting her cheek on your inner thigh.

“What?” you say, knowing she was just proud of herself. She always was, Jessie would get so cocky watching you fall apart from her touch.

“Nothing, I just love you.”

“I love you, ya dork, come up here.” You motion for her to come kiss you and she does, resting her body weight onto you for a moment as you lips meet. You kiss for a bit before Jessie rolls off of you, lying beside you, draping an arm across your waist.

“Thank you for trying that with me.” You quickly glance at the strap that was still sitting, covered in lube and your slick, on the bedside table.

“I’ll try anything for you baby, I just want to make you feel good.” Jessie says as she leans up, planting a heavy kiss on your lips. “I think I just need more practice.”

“Well I’ll always be interested in practicing with you Jess.”

A/N pt 2: here’s part 2, tumblr is being a pain and not posting it under the tags

[lunarw0rks]

SIMON X PLUS-SIZED S/O | HEADCANONS

warning(s): N/SFW (18+), smut/fluff/slight angst, implications of fatphobia, insecurity, body image mention, petnames, size kink (not for reader)??, softdom!simon, afab/fem!reader

w.c: 0.7k

˖⁺‧₊˚ MAIN MASTERLIST ♡ GHOST MASTERLIST ˚₊‧⁺˖

i'm a firm believer that SIMON loves plus-sized partners. he's not the most experienced with relationships, but above all, he enjoys bigger bodies most. so soft between his calloused hands. and warm — which is the perfect aid for his awful circulation.

and god forbid you have any qualms about your size? whether "thick", "chubby", or "fat", he'd never mind. call him crazy, but nothing hits the spot like a cushiony lover to thaw his stubborn heart. oh, how he tried to treat you the same as the rest, deflect and avoid the attention entirely. but there was something so radiant about you. as if your body was meant for him. to hold, to appreciate, to claim — to love.

SIMON grew tired of the superficial propaganda, frankly. no time for it. tomorrow isn't guaranteed for anyone, but especially not for him. for years, he felt trapped in a slump of wasted time, wasted potential. wasted emotions. bitterness for the sake of it, with no gain.

he found sweetness with you, inside and out. every inch of skin, all the bends and indents, ridges and curves that covered you. the stretch marks and cellulite that reminded him of paintings he'd seen in foreign countries; women's buxom bodies worshiped with each stroke of the brush.

once he had you, he knew he had to keep you. earn you. remind you every single day how breathtaking every bit of you was. in some ways, SIMON understands what it's liked to be loathed by nearly every passing stranger. the crinkled noses, squinted eyes, and taunting whispers that seem to follow him everywhere. but you? not a chance in hell he'd let you feel that again.

learns how to spot the signs of discomfort, which wasn't difficult since hyper-vigilance is his status quo. comparing yourself to others around, shrinking into your seat out of habit— that look of hurt in your eyes. he always gives a firm squeeze to your hip or hand, sometimes a faint whisper only you'll understand. "breathe, love." he rasps, not loosening his grip until your tense muscles relax.

even if not at the time or for several days, he always finds a way to reassure you later on. you're being seen by him, even when he's not always with you. there isn't a moment where he isn't yearning for more precious time with you. sometimes, he'll stand behind you in front of the mirror, chin resting on your shoulder. never breaks eye contact, unless you do first. raises his fingers to rest under your chin and adjusts your gaze until you're forced to admire yourself. "my gorgeous girl, look at her." SIMON whispers, pecking along your jaw.

he'd be lying if he said there weren't... other perks to the relationship. so much for his big hands to grip and enjoy, leaving marks for his eyes only the next day. crescent indents of his nails on the fat of your hips, reminding you of what you do to him. the night he had his pelvis flush against your backside, splitting you open on his length. the arch of your back, the jiggle of your ass and tits with every push of his hips. christ, he would do this forever if he could.

his hands often roam, finding purchase anywhere that will ground him. if he's not careful, you'll have him coming undone mere seconds after he is inside you. it's the vision of you; gaped mouth, slick with sweat and arousal, tummy squished against his firm build as his hips grind deep, hitting all your favorite spots.

god, and how you never seem to trust his strength fully. even when he's proved you wrong time and time again like you weigh nothing. and for him, you probably do. that sweet, bashful look in your eyes when he flips you over at the speed of light. or when he pulls you onto his lap, aching cock nestled between your thick thighs.

your hitch in breathing when he gives your plump pussy a solid smack — enough to keep you focused on the moment again. his thick fingers part your folds afterward, stimulating with your clit apologetically. "pay attention, baby. need you here otherwise 'm not gonna be able to cum. you don't want that, do you?" you can practically feel the smirk against your ear, using every ounce of strength within you to focus. he never makes it easy.

that blitzed expression never seems to fade, despite many, many nights of practice. is it wrong of him to hope it never does?

« divider cred. - cafekitsune »

[hollowed-theory-hall]

The Weasleys Aren't Great Parents...

I know a lot here love to talk about how the Weasleys were so good to take Harry in and all that... But the truth is, the parenting skills of Molly and Arthur Weasley are questionable at best.

I'm not saying they don't love their kids and Harry — they do, and they do so honestly. I'm just here to say they aren't actually a good example of parenting.

Like, when fans talk about the Weasleys what I usually see is either treating them like they are a perfect example of a family or unfair bashing. So, while I definitely believe that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley love their kids, this post showcases where their parenting skills are lacking...

So, the Weasleys, to Harry, seem like the perfect example of a happy, loving family. Now, I'm not saying there isn't love there, but the family dynamics we see aren't great, to put it lightly. Harry just has no reference for anything better.

Children Running Away

The first thing I want to mention here is that all Weasley children leave the Burrow and their parents the first chance they get.

Bill goes to work for Gringotts in Egypt.

Charlie goes to tame dragons in Romania.

Percy, well, Percy is a whole can of worms right there. But once his parents shun him for being more successful than his father in the ministry, he doesn't look back.

Fred and George leave Hogwarts in the middle of their seventh year and move out of home then, before their even done with school.

I don't think that's normal. This is what we see in houses where there is mistreatment of children, so they don't want to stay any moment longer than necessary. Because all of this, what all of them did, was running away from home.

Each of these Weasleys was seventeen — maybe eighteen when he chose to leave (sometimes the country). This is running away, even if they still talk to their parents, they did rub away from living under the same roof.

This already suggests to me something unhealthy is going on there.

favoritism

Any child psychologist would tell you one of the worst things a parent could do is pick favorites amongst their children. All children, favored or not, suffer from it.

And Mr. And Mrs. Weasley.... well, they showcase favoritism constantly, here is an example from Order of the Phoenix:

“Get him red and gold to match his badge,” said George, smirking. “Match his what?” said Mrs. Weasley absently, rolling up a pair of maroon socks and placing them on Ron’s pile. “His badge,” said Fred, with the air of getting the worst over quickly. “His lovely shiny new prefect’s badge.” Fred’s words took a moment to penetrate Mrs. Weasley’s preoccupation about pajamas. “His . . . but . . . Ron, you’re not. . . ?” Ron held up his badge. Mrs. Weasley let out a shriek just like Hermione’s. “I don’t believe it! I don’t believe it! Oh, Ron, how wonderful! A prefect! That’s everyone in the family!” “What are Fred and I, next-door neighbors?” said George indignantly, as his mother pushed him aside and flung her arms around her youngest son.

(Order of the Pheonix, page 163)

Molly is so glad to have prefects in the family, that she actually ignores the fact Fred and George aren't prefects and are her kids. George actually calls her out on it, except she isn't actually listening to him l. No, she pushes him aside. This treatment is insane, and I don't blame them for up and leaving the moment they turned seventeen.

This favoritism is seen more, this is from Chamber of Secrets:

“Sorry, Mum, but see, we had to —” All three of Mrs. Weasley’s sons were taller than she was, but they cowered as her rage broke over them. “Beds empty! No note! Car gone — could have crashed — out of my mind with worry — did you care? — never, as long as I’ve lived — you wait until your father gets home, we never had trouble like this from Bill or Charlie or Percy —” “Perfect Percy,” muttered Fred. “YOU COULD DO WITH TAKING A LEAF OUT OF PERCY’S BOOK!” yelled Mrs. Weasley, prodding a finger in Fred’s chest. “You could have died, you could have been seen, you could have lost your father his job —” It seemed to go on for hours. Mrs. Weasley had shouted herself hoarse before she turned on Harry, who backed away. “I’m very pleased to see you, Harry, dear,” she said. “Come in and have some breakfast.”

(Chamber of Secrets, page 38)

Prefect Percy is better than Fred and George and they should learn from him and be more like him, according to Mrs. Weasley. This sort of comparison between children is really harmful to their development and is frowned upon by most. Definitely by me.

Not to mention how Harry is definitely a favorite of hers, so much so he does not get shouted at for the same crime, but get's food. That is honestly the bare minimum she can do for him considering...

Harry's Abuse

The Weasleys are aware of Harry's abuse. They are made aware of it time and time again, and with all their love for Harry — they do nothing more than give him food when he asks. I don't think I need to explain why this is terrible.

“I don’t blame you, dear,” she assured Harry, tipping eight or nine sausages onto his plate. “Arthur and I have been worried about you, too. Just last night we were saying we’d come and get you ourselves if you hadn’t written back to Ron by Friday. But really” (she was now adding three fried eggs to his plate), “flying an illegal car halfway across the country — anyone could have seen you —” She flicked her wand casually at the dishes in the sink, which began to clean themselves, clinking gently in the background. “It was cloudy, Mum!” said Fred. “You keep your mouth closed while you’re eating!” Mrs. Weasley snapped.“They were starving him, Mum!” said George. “And you!” said Mrs. Weasley, but it was with a slightly softened expression that she started cutting Harry bread and buttering it for him.

(Chamber of Secrets, page 39)

George here outright tells her Harry was being starved — this goes ignored. When Harry writes to her to send him food, she sends it, but doesn't ask him why he isn't being fed:

She had no idea that Harry was not following the diet at all. The moment he had got wind of the fact that he was expected to survive the summer on carrot sticks, Harry had sent Hedwig to his friends with pleas for help … Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper, had obliged with a sack full of his own homemade rock cakes. (Harry hadn’t touched these; he had had too much experience of Hagrid’s cooking.) Mrs. Weasley, however, had sent the family owl, Errol, with an enormous fruitcake and assorted meat pies.

(Goblet of Fire, page 28)

No, she sent him food but didn't bother doing anything to help a child out of a clearly abusive situation. Not even asking why he isn't getting enough food.

Arthur Weasley isn't any better. He knows just as much as Molly and even met Harry's pleasant relatives:

“Harry said good-bye to you,” he said. “Didn’t you hear him?” “It doesn’t matter,” Harry muttered to Mr. Weasley. “Honestly, I don’t care.” Mr. Weasley did not remove his hand from Harry’s shoulder. “You aren’t going to see your nephew till next summer,” he said to Uncle Vernon in mild indignation. “Surely you’re going to say good-bye?”

(Goblet of Fire, page 48)

He acts as if the Dursleys are normal. As if a child saying their caretakers wouldn't care he wasn't there isn't cause for alarm. No, Arthur Weasley just thought it impolite and odd, but not enough to actually do something to help Harry. Just annoy Uncle Vernon.

Blaming Kids For Things Not Their Fault

“You?” she said, catching her teacup as it scampered happily away across the desk on four sturdy little willow-patterned legs and replacing it in front of her. “Why should I be worried about you?” “When Mum’s next letter finally gets through Umbridge’s screening process,” said Ron bitterly, now holding his cup up while its frail legs tried feebly to support its weight, “I’m going to be in deep trouble. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s sent a Howler again.” “But —” “It’ll be my fault Fred and George left, you wait,” said Ron darkly. “She’ll say I should’ve stopped them leaving, I should’ve grabbed the ends of their brooms and hung on or something. . . . Yeah, it’ll be all my fault. . . .”

(Order of the Pheonix, page 679)

After Fred and George leave Hogwarts, Ron tells Hermione she should worry about him because he would suffer their mother's ire. He speaks about it as if it's a regular occurrence. Like he regularly gets blamed for Feed and George's mishaps when the twins aren't there.

This is incredibly unfair to Ron, Fred, and George. There is no reason Ron should fear his parent's response for something he had no control over.

Conclusions

As I stated above, I don't think Arthur and Molly Weasley are abusive or neglectful or that they don't love their kids. They are far from perfect, loving, and dotting parents I see them sometimes portrayed as. Neither are they as awful as I sometimes see them. Like many characters in this series, they are more complex than that.

[pixelshiftexe]

In a modern universe, Cersei Lannister would get sent to one of those fancy private rehabs/psych hospitals (she doesn't want to go but Jaime booked her in after her latest breakdown and convinces her that actually it's super trendy these days for rich white women to go on "mental health retreats") and immediately tries to convince her psych team that she's totally fine and actually doesn't need to be here only to promptly be diagnosed with Bipolar and put on an ungodly amount of Seroquel.

Every single meeting she's forced to attend, she sits in her chair huffing up a storm while everyone else speaks, and when it's her turn goes on a fifteen minute rant alternating between insisting that everything wrong with her isn't actually her fault, insulting everyone else at the meeting because can't BELIEVE people actually fall for this psychobabble therapy nonsense, and sobbing uncontrollably over how her life has turned out.

After she's done she goes back to ignoring everyone.

Would absolutely look down on the people in there for narcotic addictions despite the fact that she's spent roughly the equivalent of the GDP of a small country on cocaine over the years.

Also freely admits to her therapist to having had an incestuous relationship with Jaime during childhood and adolescence but insists it doesn't matter anymore because they "grew out of it" after Jaime went to military school and she realised it would've been social suicide for her modelling career if anyone got photos of them together while she was dating various other celebrity guys, and remains completely oblivious to the ongoing emotional incest and codependency that's running through her entire family.

She emphatically insists that the only problem with Tywin's parenting was that he didn't send Tyrion away at birth and that he got Jaime a spot at Harvard Business School even though he didn't actually WANT to go and SHE did.

If this sounds like I'm bashing her, I promise I'm not. These are simply things I know to be true.

[undiscovered-horizon]

[When the curse activity rises around the country, you reluctantly return to the school to help the sorcerers. Gojo Satoru seizes the opportunity to plead the case of his lovesickness. If you came back, maybe you and him can come back together, too?]

You've often wondered how it would feel to come back. Would you be excited? Or would the weight of the memories push you to the ground? How many things would be different and how many would you recognize?

A bitter chuckle leaves your mouth. You're a grown woman and yet you're nervous like an 8-year-old with mismatched socks. The overhead sign Jujutsu Tech feels imposing as though the genius loci of the school is telling you to turn back and leave; just like it did when you were a teenager, entering an unfamiliar world of unfathomable possibilities. The girl you used to be, afraid of what the future is bound to hold, could never imagine the respect and awe with which your name is spoken now. It's almost miraculous, really.

But there are more important things at hand than melancholy.

You sigh, pushing yourself to walk forward. The rock steps feel the same under your feet as they did years ago, the wooden floorboards inside the entry room still creak in the same note. For what it's worth, nothing about Jujutsu Tech seems any different than it did then.

Nothing.

You know very well he's sitting in the corner, staring at you. It's a habit he has picked up quite a long time ago - watching, observing, studying. He used to do that only to learn a few things about you and appear as charming as he possibly could. But with time this little unnerving habit stuck around.

At first, he looks laid-back. Overconfident, as he usually is. Although you know him a little too well and so you notice the way he's crossing his arms on his chest, his shoulders tense and raised. The greatest sorcerer in the world is nervous when in the presence of his high school sweetheart.

"Long time no see, Satoru," you finally speak up.

"You're even prettier than I remember," he answers, bothering to sound casual. He almost succeeds.

"And you're exactly the same, it seems."

You stare him up and down. The blindfold in place of sunglasses and the plain, black robes make him appear more professional. Still, Satoru's untamed white hair gives him a juvenile look. Maturity is supposed to arrive with age but perhaps the age arrived alone in his case.

Gojo sits further back on the old couch. He rests his hands behind his head. A half-grin curves his lips - the very same smile that always made you equally annoyed and weak in the knees. Truly, if Satoru wasn't as charming as he is, you'd have strangled him years ago.

"Ah," he sighs. "Perfection can't be improved."

Crossing your arms on your chest, you give him a playful look. "Then how come I'm supposedly prettier?"

Suddenly, Gojo leans forward. "Good question." He rubs his chin in faux thoughtfulness. You've learned better than to trust his little theatrics, no matter how amusing they are. "I never understood how this works. Just when I thought you're equal to a goddess, you make all of them look plain."

You feel your hands shaking. If your heart doesn't slow down soon, you might have a serious problem. As warm as your face gets, you hope the blush is not visible. How embarrassing to fall again for his wax poetic right away...

Trying to hide how flustered his words have made you, you force out a chuckle. "Gojo Satoru, always the sweet-talker, eh?"

Despite your best attempt at dismissing the entire situation, the man in front of you seems to have caught on to your bashfulness. After all those years, has he been craving to see you blushing and giggling again?

"If you keep saying my name like that, I might fall in love with you," he warns you half-heartedly.

The realization hits you at one moment. Something you've been suspecting, maybe hoping for even, has been proven right between his smooth talking and shaky breaths. Now that you think about it, it's all painfully obvious: how excited he seems to see you again, the immediate rush to dish out compliments and the rather poor attempt at appearing all suave and laid-back.

"You never fell out," you declare with undeniable certainty in your voice. "Did you?"

Something about the air changes instantly. The sparks of a maybe-rekindled romance have gone out, leaving both of you cold and distant towards each other.

Those few seconds of silence feel almost like hours. The quietness is ringing in your ears, pushing at your thoughts to say something. Anything! Just stop this suffocating unease from eating you alive.

This time, it's Gojo who breaks the silence first. "I stand by what I said back then: you're the one for me. It's either you or no one."

Fortunately, unforeseen aid comes almost immediately - before the tension between the two of you could choke you, a cacophony of teen voices, seemingly engaged in a loud feud, echoes throughout the building.

[gilverrwrites]

Idek if it’s cannon but I’m pretty sure the supers are like in the south but anyway the thought of Kons voice having a southern twang to it is highkey driving me up a wall like esp when he’s telling u to do smt during sex

It does it for me too, I always imagine him with a smidge of an accent even if he probably doesn't have one. I'm not American so please correct my geography if its wrong. Warnings: very brief, non-graphic mention of possible choking.

Lois is from Metropolis which is supposed to be in Delaware (Southern), but I think she has more of a fast talking mid-atlantic city accent.

Clark is mid-western; Smallville being in rural Kansas, I believe. Which isn't southern, but is “country” and so there is overlap there. As the 'serious investigative journalist'; Clark Kent, he tones the accent down a lot. As Superman he turns it on a bit, plays it up for the public. At home/with friends he just talks and whatever comes out is what comes out. He also, definitely lays it on thicker for Lois cause he knows it does something for her. (or Bruce, or whoever else you ship him with).

Accents aren't genetic, so Kon probably doesn't naturally have either, however, he's around them enough to pick up a bit of a twang and maybe some key phrases. Usually he just puts it on for shits and giggles, often around Lex because it pisses him off, but sometimes he uses it on you.

The first time it was an accident, you called his name as you approached, planning on asking him something but he was only half paying attention, busy joking around with Bart, so he answers with a distracted; “Yeah, Darlin’?” Whatever had been in your head quickly left the room and so did you.

Second time, he catches you staring at him absentmindedly. He stares right back until you catch on, and then he asks with a sly smirk; “You fixin’ for somethin’, hon?” You quickly avert you gaze.

By now he's catching on. The next time he sees you, he makes an effort to compliment you, asking if that's a new shade of lipstick or if you're doing something different with your hair as he runs his fingers over the feature in reference. “Well ain'chu as pretty as a peach.” He’s testing a theory, one that you unknowingly confirm by staring at your feet and letting out a bashful giggle.

From there he starts using it more and more, pushing your buttons with a half smile and a thick drawl (that the rest of the team will give him shit for later) until he's got you pressed into his mattress. Askin’ if you gussied up just for him as he tears off your clothes. Calls you cute names while he's talkin’ real sinful. “You see what you do to me, darlin'?” With his hand around your neck, desperately grinding his sex against yours.

“Thats it, honey, say my name. Say. My. Name.” While you try to rake your nails down his back, sputtering “K-Kon-onner.” over and over while he fucks you to the edge.

“You wanna cum? Yeah? Go on, sugar, cum for me.” As he holds your face in place, looking right into your pretty eyes as he fucks you through it.

[a-lurking-fae]

《𝕿𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖚𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖔𝖋𝖋𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 - 𝕻𝖚𝖕𝖕𝖊𝖙 𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗》

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔫𝔢

⚠︎ WARNING ⚠︎ : Human sacrifice, mentions of torture, implied kidnapping if you squint, break-ins, burning flesh, creeps.

"The stars that shine through the mystical sky is held in your eyes."

Treasures of gold, heaps of silver, mountains of flora, and fauna, it was anyone could have wished for— but you. It wasn't fun to have all eyes on you. The attention solely focused on your features, flaws are inspected, and cruel moments of vulnerability.

You watch as another human is killed in your name it was never yours to begin with, impostor, their screams of pain tear your ears it'll be you soon, as they beg for forgiveness and repentance. It's—

"Does this sacrifice satisfy you, Your Grace? These people were the protesters from last month. There are children too, if you wish, we can—" Horrific. How dare they! To bring the children to this is a different matter altogether.

"No. For a mortal mind such as yours, it harbours horrible ideas that even demons do not entertain. Children are innocent, and that is an ultimatum. You have directly faced my word—" you look to the crowd, eager to listen. “My children, do you think this man deserves a punishment?" Loud screams of agreement erupt from the crowd. Some onlookers even light up after hearing the man might be punished. "It seems most of you agree. Now, what sentence should we give him?”

The man pleads for forgiveness, kneeling as he approaches you, clasping his hands together, an air of desperation surrounding him. Xiao goes closer to you, making sure that the man can't harm you. If he did, well…

“My dear Morax, Geo Archon. Tell me, how do your people face punishment for the crime of harming children? Both directly and indirectly.” You look at him, his face full of delight. You called him your dear

“Corporal punishment : beating, death by boiling, chariots, and permanent mutilation like tattooing and castration. Then, they could be sent to become wall builders. Whichever you prefer Your Grace.” Morax was joyful, Her Grace was truly a kind ruler.

“You, what punishment do you want?”

The man is horrified he bashes his head on the floor, pleading. “Tick-tock, if you can't choose, then we might as well do them all. Is that right?” Cheers erupt from the crowd. The smell of burning human flesh overwhelms you.

You slowly start to get up, signalling the guard to take him away. You hated this. It was your choice to kill him.

────୨ৎ────

「 You did well, my dear. 」

‘Shut it, I don't wanna hear from you today.’ You held your expression with a smile, bottling up your anger towards the real creator.

「 Just a bit more, I promise that you'll get to that other world. Earth, was it? I don't know why you want to go there, it looks shitty. 」

‘It's a whole lot better than here.’ You finally got back to the palace. You had one in each country since they'd fight over you every time. ‘There are some perks to this, I guess.’

You plop down the bed, not bothering to take your shoes off at this point. It's exhausting, really. You dream of going back to earth. It was your home, of course.

You don't know how long you'll be able to keep the facade, Furina did a great job at that. But you weren't an actor in any way, and your mental health was already down the drain. You're not sure how you’d fare.

「 Hey, I'm sorry. 」

“For what?” You wonder why, this creator— they've always been an enigma when you met them. You think they're drunk.

「 For everything. 」

“It's fine…” You sigh out. It's no use anyway. The damage has been done. No use crying over spilt milk. You decide to take a shower, looking at the mirror. You're supposed to look like them, so why can you see your reflection—

「 Stop looking at the mirror. 」

“I know, mirrors are bad because they can always show one's true self. Basically, it's a face detector, honestly.” You rub your eyes. The bath was filled with roses, milk, and other scents. They mixed together well. You expected to have headaches because of it, but it seems like it was just your imagination.

“Haa… this is pretty relaxing, honestly. I'm alone, with snacks, relaxing~” You hum a happy tune, dancing a bit in the bathtub.

「 Uh, no your not— 」

‘WHAT?!’ You look around slowly, taking in your peripheral vision. There.

You slowly stood, grabbed the bath robe, and booked it to your room. Stopping at the door separating the room and bathroom. Before you opened the big ass door, you heard noises.

「 It's them. Hide dumbass! 」

‘I KNOW!’ You calmly panicked. Rushing to the bath again, you threw your robe to an empty pot. Thankfully, since the bath was heavily scented and mixed with milk, the water wasn't that clear. The door slowly unlocked as you submerged yourself into the tub. Forgetting one thing, your fucking asthmatic.

「 Dumb. (っ- ‸ - ς) 」

They search the room silently, looking at every nook and cranny. You forgot about Xiao— “They're not here, check the other rooms.” You hear before they start going out. “Wait— there's a bathrobe over there, they're hiding…”

You can't hold your breath anymore. You slowly get back up, the look of surprise in the trespassers appears. For them, you just appeared in the water mysteriously.

“Xiao—” He appears near you, kneeling, his head looking down at the floor. The intruders share a look of fear. Seems like they know him, they probably know they might be kinda fucked.

“Yes, Your Grace?” He slowly looks up with a blush, realizing that he was in your bathroom. “Could you deal with these intruders for me, sweetheart?” He looks to find them, standing petrified, then they run.

Oh, they're so dead. “And do it quietly. The children are in the garden with Ningguang, and I wouldn't want to worry them.” Xiao nods, summoning his spear. He knocks them all out, dragging their bodies to the guards.

He notes that he should report this to Rex Lapis. After all, how could anyone get into your chambers? Unless there were others that were involved.

You relaxed again, a towel was delivered by a maid, she looked nervous. Her uniform signified that she was from Monstadt. ‘The new maid, Anna. That's her name, right?’

「 Yes, why do you ask? 」

‘I have a gut feeling about her and not the bad type.’ She could be a key figure for your escape. ‘She'd be in danger too.’ You sigh, you take the towel from her with a smile, dismissing her.

Honestly, this is just fucking exhausting.

────୨ৎ────

You lie on your bed, slowly drifting off to sleep. It was an exhausting day, of course. Unbeknownst to you, someone— something is watching you while you sleep. It takes a physical form, lying right next to you, cradling your body.

“We'll be together soon. Don't worry, my love.”

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────

ησтє : Oohh, who could that be?? ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) 

[yesimwriting]

Promise

a/n yes im using the princess! reader who's about to be forced into a political marriage with anakin again,, and what about it the vibe is so fun to me, also i love jealous anakin

warnings: 18+!!! smut (he broke me down) written by someone whose only experience comes from fanfics, so pls be nice,, also written in 1st person bc that was the vibe when i started and i didn't realize this was going to get smutty (i'm sorry yall😭 it's still my best tense)

Summary: As a princess, your future is set in stone. You'll marry someone your father picks for you to aid your country. All of this you've accepted...until you befriend Anakin Skywalker, who was originally assigned to guard you during a time of political unrest on your home planet.

----

He's still near the door, arms crossed and expression as stoic as it was when he first interrupted my meeting to escort me to an urgent consultation with my father.

I understand that publicly we need to remain as indifferent as physically possible and that any sort of friendliness we display needs to seem completely surface level. But we're not in public anymore and usually the transition from appropriate indifference to something much warmer is instant.

"...How urgent is urgent?"

The question is more for our sake than anything else. I want to hear his voice outside of the stiff way he interrupted the meeting with that last suitor. He had barely looked at me as he mumbled something about my father. I want it to feel light the way it usually does between us. I want him to make one of those jokes that always has me rolling my eyes or to smile or--or to do anything that makes him feel like Anakin.

The urge to study him begins to make it hard to just stand there so I turn towards my vanity. What I'm wearing isn't exactly inappropriate for a closed door meeting, but it's more formal than I'd like and a little itchy. If I have time to change into something more standard, I'll take it. "If I call Raina in here I can be in something a lot more comfortable in five minutes."

No response. I smooth my hair back with my palms, eyes subtly shifting towards his reflection in the mirror. Anakin's taken the slightest step forward. "Anakin?"

His head tilts downwards, eyes briefly meeting mine in the mirror before darting away. There's something about the way he's holding himself that would feel bashful it was less stiff. "There is no meeting."

"What?" My head instinctually snaps in his direction. Anakin's already watching me. "You--you made up an emergency?"

This is--Anakin interrupted a meeting with the first suitor that didn't make my skin crawl. I wouldn't have been thrilled to walk down the aisle with him, but I could have likely learned to be content with him. At least he believes that women can do more than just be brides and raise children. He'd allow me to participate in some community work to bond with his people and I'd be able to visit home.

But that's besides the point. He could have been the most repulsive candidate my father had found for me and it still wouldn't have justified what Anakin did. I don't walk out of meetings. Ever. If my father finds out about this...

"Do you have any idea what my father will do if he finds out?" I sit the edge of my vanity's seat with a tired sigh. There has to be some excuse. I could blame it on sickness or a misunderstand or--

"Then I'll take the blame." Anakin's words pull me out of my thoughts. His voice is still stiff and lacking its usual warmth in a way that only adds to my unease. Why is he acting like this? "I'll tell him that it was my fault and that I misunderstood your schedule debriefing."

My fingers dig into the soft fabric of my dress that's pooling over the seat. "Don't." My voice sounds so small, so vulnerable I have to hate myself for it. "He might take that the wrong way and--" I exhale slowly, forcing myself to cling to rationality. "And he might arrange your removal."

Anakin scoffs. What is his issue? "Like that'd bother you."

My throat tightens. After everything we've been through, after telling him things that I've never been able to tell anyone...How can he just dismiss all of it? And why is he being so mean? "What?"

"You've found your ideal suitor and now you can get married and be sent away and never--" Anakin cuts himself off, eyes tearing away so quickly like there's painful about looking at me. "You don't need me anymore."

Oh. That's what this is about. "Anakin." He's staring at some distant point on my wall. "That's not true. You know it isn't."

Everything about him remains stiff. "You were smiling." He briefly glances at me, eyebrows drawn together so sharply it tugs at something in my chest. "A real smile, not your practiced one." Anakin lets out a sigh that feels as pointed as a sarcastic laugh. "And you laughed."

"What?" I'm not miserable in one meeting and now he's acting like I hate him. "I--I might have been making the best of it because he's the first suitor who didn't spend the entire time listing off the requirements for his bride, but that isn't the same as liking him." And even if I liked him, would that be such a terrible thing? Would it really undermine our entire friendship if I found a way to be married and not miserable? "I'm going to have to marry one of them at some point, and I d--"

"Don't marry him." Anakin blurts the sentence out in one wavering breath. The letters run together so closely it feels more like a single word.

For a moment, all the shaky request does is sit between us. I've been on several outings and meetings with potential suitors and Anakin's never reacted like this. What was so wrong about this last one? "Don't marry him? What do--"

Anakin's eyes finally meet mine. The way he's looking at me stings, all glossy eyes and a pouty frown that's trying its best to be harsh. He seems more pained than angry and that's somehow worse.

Don't marry him. The words too strained and small to be about just the man from earlier. Don't marry him means don't marry any of them.

Oh.

I scratch the back of my wrist as Anakin's eyes drop to the ground. He knows that I have no interest in marrying for my father, but even if I did, why would that bother him?

With a sigh, I push myself to stand. Why it upsets him doesn't matter. So much is already weighing on him.

Anakin doesn't look up as I start walking towards him. "I--I can't promise that." My nails dig into the skin of my palm. "I wish I could." The words leave a bitter taste in my mouth. "But it doesn't matter." Anakin's rigid as I carefully extend my hand and bend my fingers against his forearm. "You're always going to be important to me."

He pulls his arm forward instinctually. My hold on him loosens, but before I can take my hand back, Anakin adjusts his to squeeze mine. He's holding on just tight enough for it to feel uncomfortable, but I don't mind it. It's grounding.

"Until you're married." He's staring at where our hands sit between us. There's something I should say, something comforting and easing. Nothing's coming to mind. The reality of the situation is set in stone. I'll have to marry eventually and that--that will change things. But it'll never change the way I feel about Anakin.

Anakin, who always listens when I need to purge all of the resentment about the rules that control my life. Anakin, who sits with me when I can't sleep. Anakin, who has the worst sense of humor that can always pull a smile from me even when it feels impossible.

He moves our hands, releasing my hand at my side. The brief loss of contact makes my ribs feel cracked. "No." It's instinctual. "It's--" I reach forward, hand reaching for his arm. "You're the only person I can tell anything to, the only one that never expects anything from me and just--just likes me for who I am."

The realization that Anakin might be the only true friend I've ever had hits me hard and fast. All of that and a part of me has always been selfish enough to imagine what it'd be like to live in a different world that could allow for more. Though, that's barely been a thought that I've allowed myself to have. Neither of us are in a position to get attached to anyone in that way, and even if we were, Anakin wouldn't see me that way. Besides, his friendship is no small thing, so it definitely takes the sting out of the impossible.

"Who wouldn't?" The comment comes out so soft, so absentminded I nearly melt on the spot.

A lifetime of being a daughter instead of a son has a reflexive a lot of people attempting to crawl up my throat. I swallow the bitterness like bile before I can make this about me and settle on a much lighter, "You'd be surprised."

Any lift in his expression falls again. "You don't see it."

I do try to think about it, but nothing that makes sense comes to mind. "See what?" Anakin pauses, lips pressing together. I'm expecting some kind of response. Instead, Anakin shakes his head once dismissively. "Tell me." His lack of response has me gently shoving his shoulder. "I thought we didn't keep secrets."

He lets out a small breath, we're so close I can feel the warmth of it against my skin. "It's nothing." When my only reaction is to glare, he reaches for my hand. "I don't want to talk about them anymore."

Strange. What does whatever he's talking about have to do with what we were talking about? Yes, the suitors want to court me but they want me the same way they want an ornament or my father's leniency in a business deal. Before I can remind him of this, his hand finds my shoulder.

If Anakin notices the way I freeze, he gives no indication of it, he just trails his thumb up and down the start of my collarbone. It's not the first time he's done this, but until now the gesture has been reserved for late nights when I can't sleep. I'm so used to it being soothing that it immediately gets rid of any fight in my system.

"You've had more meetings recently."

I nod, still too focused on the feeling of his hand on my shoulder. "It's a busy time...celebration season is always elaborate, and things are...tense."

He nods. If there's one thing he knows about, it's the precariousness that seems to be reaching everyone these days. But my time with Anakin is limited. He's been assigned to be my personal guard during the celebration season since the year a political protestor took my mother's life. The season always feels like it will be long, but time always slips away quicker than it should when it comes to Anakin.

I know I shouldn't do this. He doesn't need any type of encouragement after what happened at today's meeting, but something's clearly been weighing on him and I do miss him. The additional events, the public outings, the suitors...all to save face as the threat of war continues to become a more pressing issue. "My father had most of my afternoon blocked off in case that last suitor wanted extra time."

Anakin frowns, his thumb stopping its outlined path across my shoulder. He is so dramatic. "I shouldn't be telling you this because it might sound like I approve of you making up an emergency, but if you don't have anything to do, we can catch up."

He tilts his head, a hint of a smile turning up the corner of his lips. "Catch up? We're together all day."

I extend an arm, gently pushing him. First, he basically throws a fit because he convinced himself it was possible for me to like a suitor more than him, and now that I want to do something with him, he's trying to make fun of me. "I mean about before you came here. We've barely had time to talk since you've gotten back."

"Okay," his thumb brushes back down where my collarbone meets my shoulder, "We can talk." He squeezes my shoulder before retracting his hand. "The garden or the library?"

Our two most frequented spots. I grin. "The garden, the weather's nice today." He smiles, taking a step back. "Give me a minute to change. I turn away from him, walking towards my closet. "I've been ready to take off this dress since Raina put me in it this morning."

Raina spent longer than a minute trapping me in between scratchy fabric and a stiffly structured top. All of those ties and buttons that I still can't reach. Ugh. I wonder if calling Raina in will lead to more attention being drawn to the fact that I left early. Technically, the official meeting would likely be over by now but my father wanted it to go well. He kept things open in hopes of it lasting a little longer.

It's probably better not to ask. Drawing any attention to me and Anakin isn't the best idea in general. We're good friends, which is okay in front of some people but wrong in front of others. Raina is a little skeptical. It's nothing personal against Anakin, she just knows me too well, which means she reads into things.

I stretch my arm back as far as it'll go and manage to undo the bottom of the lacing and a few buttons. Anything that's more than halfway up my back is impossible to get to. I twist and turn and push and I can't reach.

"Everything alright?"

Anakin's voice carries through the short hall. I sigh, giving the fabric one last desperate tug. "Everything's fine I just..." I squeeze my eyes shut before pinching the bridge of my nose. "Can you come here?"

A brief wave of silence that leaves my face burning lingers until the sound of footsteps ends it. Anakin appears in my closet's doorway. "You're okay?"

"Yeah," I mumble, "Yes, I just--I can't get the buttons." As if to make my point, I try again in vain, trying again to reach the tiny clasps.

"You need help?" Anakin's voice comes out lower than usual.

Maybe he feels just as awkward about this. "If it'd be easier, you could just call in Raina."

"No," I can hear his weight shifting off the doorframe, "I can do it."

He takes a few steps forward. Before I know it, he's directly behind me. Anakin smooths a hand over my hair before gently moving it over my shoulder. The way heat begins to crawl up my neck makes me glad that my back is to him. His hand settles against my back.

I pull my arms forward, crossing them in front of my chest. He takes over, fingertips grazing against my back. The longer he works, the looser the dress begins to feel. I should be feeling cooler now that I'm getting closer to just being in my thin layering dress, but all of my earlier warmth and discomfort is now rising up my face.

"Raina put you in this this morning?"

I nod, "Raina woke me up earlier than usual today to make me up." The final button is pulled apart. I have to keep an arm at my chest to keep the dress from pooling at my feet. "I think this might have taken longer than my hair."

The comment is meant to be lighthearted. Instead of taking it that way, Anakin lets out a breath as his hand settles against my hip. "Won't things be easier when you don't have to worry about finding a husband?"

Now it's my turn to sigh. I make a point of pulling his hand off my side. I wander further into my closet. "You know I want nothing to do with this." My grip on the dress tightens, my sudden movement making it harder to keep the heavy dress on. "And if you honestly think I find any joy in being packaged in suffocating fabric and bodices so structured that they stab into my ribs every time I breathe, then you don't know me."

I turn around and let go of the dress, allowing the gown to pool at my feet. I step out of the puddle of fabric before reaching for one of my hangers, a casual day dress that I've barely looked at.

"I didn't mean it that way." His voice comes out low, almost reluctant. It's not enough to ease me, so I make a point of scoffing. Something warm pulls on my forearm. Before I know it, I'm facing with him. Oh. Anakin's closer than I thought he'd be. "I'm sorry." He exhales, voice tight, "Don't be mad, princess."

I keep my expression neutral. Though I'm in no mood to be reminded of my title, Anakin has a way of making it feel like a term of endearment. "If you're bothered by my situation, I understand that." He's staring me with such intensity I have to make the conscious choice to not look away. "I really understand that, but do not treat me like this is my choice. Not all of us are meant for more and can do whatever we want."

"Not whatever I want," he whispers, voice strained.

Now it's my turn to wish I had bitten my tongue. Anakin's told me enough of the stories for me to know that while sometimes the fact that he gets to leave and be an active source of good makes me wish my life was different, his isn't exactly easy.

His eyes hold mine for a beat before drifting downwards. For whatever reason, that makes me aware of the fact that this is likely the least dressed I've ever been in front of anyone. Sure, Anakin's seen me in pajamas and casual wear, but the silk dress under my gown is thin and low cut.

"And don't say that this is what you're meant for." He pulls my arm down with his hand, letting his fingers interlock with mine. "I've seen you in meetings and the way that you care about your people. You don't need to do this."

Again, it's like he's trying to convince me to change my mind. Like this is something that I want. I don't understand what he's trying to convince me to do. "Try telling that to my father."

I'm not sure what it is, but something about Anakin's expression looks a little flatter. Maybe even disappointed. I get it, this isn't exactly a fun topic, and we have no reason to dwell on it now. It's not like I'm getting engaged tonight. And I rarely get time to just be around Anakin, my future marriage has already taken enough from me, it doesn't need to take this too.

"Why are we still talking about this?" I pull my hand back, ready to grab my dress. "It's not like anything's happening now, let's just go to the garden like we--"

Anakin reaches forward before I can turn around, his hand finding my shoulder.

"I--" He cuts himself off, "There's been a rise in meetings with potential suitors, it's not as easy to ignore as it used to be."

I know exactly what he's talking about. All of my energy has been focused on not thinking about that. But that's because it's my inevitable future. How could this possibly matter this much to Anakin? "Ignore what?"

"Do you have any idea how difficult it is to know what they're feeling? What they're thinking about you?" Anakin's breath catches itself in his throat, his thumb slipping beneath the strap of my dress. "What they're thinking about doing to you?"

Heat rushes to my face. I try to swallow to clear the lump in my throat but my mouth has gone dry. "Anakin?"

"I've spent so long trying to let you go."

What? Is he--is he saying that he-- "What?"

He tilts his head downwards, "You don't need to do this. I--"

"Don't say it." My hand is quick to grab the one he has on my shoulder. Push him away, I should push him away. My hand won't move. The one person I've always known I won't ever be able to have.

"Why not?" He asks the question so innocently, like he couldn't ever fathom a reason for me to shut this down. After a moment, his eyebrows pull together, a small frown playing at his lips. "You don't want me?"

If this was any less serious, that would have made me laugh. That is, most definitely, not the issue. "That's not true."

He relaxes slightly, his thumb trailing down my shoulder. Before I can explain issues that we both are definitely aware of, he leans impossibly closer. His weight on mine is nearly enough to make me forget the concept of logic entirely.

"Anakin," it's meant to be a warning. The breathiness of my voice takes away all of its severity. "We can't." I'm arguing for more my sake than his. He already knows all of the reasons that we need to agree to remain just friends before things get any more complicated. "What I want doesn't matter. Nothing I've wanted has ever mattered." He hasn't moved away, but at least he isn't trying to get any closer. "And even if it did, it's not like we'd suddenly be able to be together."

Anakin's hand adjusts on my shoulder, his grip tightening. He has the audacity to look like he's not sure what I'm talking about. "The Jedi code?" He blinks, still giving no indication of understanding why everything about us is impossible. "I'm sure I don't need to remind you why that matters, chosen one."

He scoffs. "I don't care."

I place my free hand on his chest, willing myself to create some distance between us before my judgement finally lapses. "You can't--you can't say that." My eyes squeeze shut, "I know that it's unfair, but time will pass and you'll feel rational again, and it'll be easier."

"Don't do that." The harsh quality of his voice nearly makes me step back. "Don't treat this like it's a political compromise."

Something about me trying to keep things together the only way I know how is hurting him. I don't know how to get through this without taking the emotion out of it. Still, I don't want to make this harder on him. My hand moves up his chest and rests on his shoulder. "I didn't mean it like that."

He nods slowly, visibly relaxing at my touch, "You're only pushing me away because you're afraid."

"What?"

Anakin's thumb drags across my skin. "You're afraid that if you let yourself even admit that you might want something that your father hasn't decided for you, and that if you're selfish for even a second, your entire world will fall apart."

If it came from anyone else, I'd be offended, but coming from Anakin, it just makes the real reason why I can't just say it and give in hurt more. "That's not it." Anakin doesn't respond. He wants me to say more and I'm not sure that I can. "It's--" What I'm afraid of is that I let myself admit that I want Anakin out loud, I'll have to decide whether or not I want him more than everything I've been working towards my entire life and that I won't like my own answer.

"It's that," I start over, staring at my hand on his shoulder in case looking at him directly will make the confidence I've gathered to wither away. "That if I let myself think about it, about you--like that--for longer than a moment, I might want you more than any of this."

He pauses, likely thinking through his words. Maybe he'll try to promise me that he wouldn't make me choose while not understanding that being with him at all makes that decision for me. Or maybe the amount of care I'm implying will scare him into second guessing this.

His hand slowly moves off of my shoulder. If my deep, dark secret has finally gotten him to understand why we're better off as we are, then maybe it's worth how hard it was to get out.

His fingers settle against my jaw. Slowly, he gets my head to turn. I look at him, expecting some kind of rejection to be written across his face. Instead, all I see in his eyes is a pool of emotion ready for me to drown in. "Would that have to be a bad thing?"

This time, the softness of his question doesn't feel like an attempt to dismiss our reality. It's so genuine it turns into a physical ache between us.

I'm reminded that despite all of his talent, confidence, and sense of humor that I've tried so hard to enjoy less, he's still a boy who's experienced so much heartbreak. The council constantly dismissing him and refusing to grant him the title he deserves, the loss of his mother, all of the expectations on his shoulders...

Would it be such a bad thing to want him more than anything else? To love him more that much?

I tilt my head back, just enough to press my lips against his. Anakin's quick to reciprocate, turning the barely there press of lips into something else with no warning. He shifts his weight so that he's fully against me. My back hits the wall of my closet before I realize what's happening.

It's heavy, my bottom lip being pulled between his teeth. The hand that's not still cupping my jaw settles on my hip, the silk of my slip dress crumpling between his fingers. I pull my head back, Anakin attempts to follow, teeth tugging on my lip one last time before letting us separate.

He doesn't let me get far, resting his forehead against mine as we both struggle to catch our breaths. "I'm sorry, I should have--"

"Don't be sorry," I manage between slow pants, "Not for that."

Anakin smiles, and for once, I don't mind feeding his ego. "I can feel how much you need me." The urge to squirm away and hide any potential embarrassment is strong, but I have no way to act on the impulse. I'm pinned between Anakin and the wall of my closet. He slowly pulls my dress, exposing another inch of skin. "Do you think any of your suitors could make you feel like this?"

I shake my head, "No." That's an easy thing to get out, "Only you."

Another tug that has more fabric pooling around my waist. "Promise you won't marry him." His head dips forward, his lips brushing against the end of my jaw. "Any of them."

My eyes instinctually shut. I need to hold it together. "You--you know I can't just--" He places an open mouthed kiss against my neck. "Anakin."

"Promise." An order.

I exhale, struggling to focus. "It's not--" Another kiss. "It's not f--air." My voice cracks on the last syllable as Anakin moves further down my neck. "You know I'd never break a promise I made to you."

"What's not fair is having to watch you meet with men who look at you and to know that this..." He pulls the strap of my dress off of my shoulder, exposing more skin that he immediately presses his lips against. "Is what they want to do to you."

What? I had never thought that my suitors fantasized about anything, everything about those meetings always feel so cold and political. I'd question it if I could bring myself to care about the revelation with Anakin's teeth pressing into the pulse point of my neck. "To have to watch them look at what's mine."

"Anakin..."

One last shift of fabric and the hem of my dress is now over my hips. His hand leaves my jaw and skims the waist of my underwear. "Promise."

His fingers finally reach where I need him most. My eyes instinctually shut at the sensation, a wave of pleasure I've never felt before nearly making me jump. Noticing my tension, he presses a gentle kiss against my cheek.

I have to give him something, and maybe that'll be enough to at least put this conversation off until I'm in a position to negotiate. "I'm yours." My ability to form sentences is quickly fading as his finger presses into me. "Can't that be enough?" A small part of myself hates how easily I'm cracking. "For now?"

Anakin does the meanest thing imaginable, he stops. "Promise me."

A pathetically desperate whine escapes me. He can't be serious. He won't walk away now just because I can't immediately promise to never marry anyone.

He straightens enough to pull away from the crook of my neck. "Anakin." I meet his gaze, and behind the harshness of his eyes, I see that he means it. "You know I--I can't--"

"We can work it out." That genuine side of him returns, softness bleeding back into his expression. "All that matters is that you want to."

"Of course I want to."

He leans forward again, forehead pressing against mine, "Then promise me..." Anakin's eyes briefly shut, "Promise me you won't marry anyone else."

I let myself take him in, how it feels to let him consume me entirely. It's too late for me, anyway. I wouldn't be able to will myself to walk down the aisle the same way I couldn't force myself to push him away. "I promise."

His lips are on mine in an instant. When I don't part my lips fast enough, he hooks two fingers between the waistband of my underwear and tugs them down my legs in one, swift motion. I gasp, giving him all the access he needs to drag his tongue against mine.

He moves back, beginning to press his lips against my jaw. "Anakin."

"Say it again." His fingers find the spot that makes me see stars. "Promise me that you're mine."

A whiny breath slips past my lips, "I promise." His teeth drag against my throat and my nails instinctually dig into his shoulder, "Only you."

A rough sound escapes from the back of Anakin's throat. He removes a hand from my hip to adjust his own robes. I'm too distracted to realize what he's doing until it's obvious. "Again."

I reach my hand forward until my fingers are wrapping around his length. "Only you, Anakin." He groans. "I--I won't marry anyone else." Anakin places his hand over mine, guiding my hand up and down his length. "I'm yours."

He buries his face in the crook of my neck, "Maker, you're--" The rest of the sentence is murmured into my skin at a pitch that I can't make out.

His fingers press into me even harder. "Anakin," my whininess would be embarrassing if I wasn't so distracted by the coiling feeling in my stomach, "I--I--"

"Tell me," he lifts his head enough to speak the words into my ears, "Tell me that you want me."

My eyes screw shut, "I--It's more than want." It feels like a confession. "I need you."

Another strangled breath escapes him. Anakin pulls away enough to line himself against my entrance. He presses in slowly, the feeling in my stomach reaches a height I didn't think possible. "Anakin."

"You're so," he's getting the words out through gritted teeth, "Tight." Anakin pushes in even more. A gasp escapes me. "Say it again." I'm too lost in what I'm feeling to form the words. He pulls back before pushing his entire length in with no warning. Anakin shows no reaction to the pitchy whine he forced out of me. "Again."

"It's--it's only--you," I pant. "I won't marry any-one else--just--just please, Anakin."

His thumb presses against where my nerves are at their most on edge. I can't breathe or focus on anything. "Please what?"

"I need you."

He rubs tight circles against me and picks up the pace. My head falls against his shoulder, eyes squeezing tight. "Look at me." I--I can't keep my head up. Anakin's hand tugs at my hair, forcing me off of his shoulder. "Look at me."

I force my eyes open. "Anakin."

"Feel good, hm?" All I can do is nod. "Can't even talk anymore?" His lips find their way against my jaw. "What would all your suitors say if they could see how easy it was for me to get you like this?" His lips find a spot on my neck that leaves me dizzy. "First breaking all the rules and now you can't even talk." It's hard to focus on anything that isn't how he feels. "Who has you like this?"

I take a shaky breath, "You, Anakin." My voice is shaky, "Only you."

His lips press against mine. Hard. I give in entirely and it's all teeth and wanting a closer that doesn't exist. He pulls away just as quickly, "I've got you, princess," he exhales, "come for me."

My body knows what to do more than I do. I cling onto him. Anakin's thrusts become less even without losing speed. He continues until an all consuming pleasure has my body practically shaking. My orgasm hits so fast and hard I can barely hold myself upright.

"Oh, you're squee--" Anakin cuts himself off, pulling out before he can finish inside me. "Maker, you're perfect."

After it ends, I expect to be filled with some kind of regret or remorse. Instead, all I feel is a sense of peace as I recover with my forehead pressed into Anakin's chest. He keeps his arm around me loosely. "It's just you and me, princess."

I nod against him weakly, desperate to accept what he's saying. "Just you and me."

He smooths circles against my back. "We'll figure it out together."

It's not an easy thing to believe, but trusting Anakin is natural. I finally lift my head to look at him, "We have time." I don't know how much time, but it's definitely not happening today, and if I can push this until our political crisis becomes the ultimate concern, my father won't bring it up until this is resolved. Maybe if I prove myself as a leader, he'll see that I can be more. "I'm tired."

He smiles lazily, "You're saying I tired you out?" I roll my eyes. "Come on, we have some time before you have to meet with your advisors." Anakin squeezes my shoulder, thumb soothingly tracing a pattern against my collarbone. "Stay with me?"

I have to bite my tongue to keep a much too emotional always from coming out, so I just nod. He takes my hand and leads me into my bedroom. Anakin helps me into bed before laying next to me.

Drowsiness pulls at my eyelids. I fight against the exhaustion as best as I can, but Anakin's gentle touches and whispered terms of endearment aren't making it easier.

"You can sleep," he finally whispers, "I'll make sure you're awake with enough time to get ready for your next meeting."

It's tempting, but after all of this, all I want is to be near him and to--to talk to him and absorb his presence before I can't. "But--"

"I'm not going anywhere," he says, reading my hesitance easily, "We have time."

My eyes are already closed, "Promise?"

Anakin's head dips forward as he presses a chaste kiss against my temple. "I promise."

[allsouls-emma]

Léon Marchand x female reader and the use of oc.

A Léon Marchand fanfiction.

Warnings: swearing, DNI if under 18, 18+, PnV, Voyager!!, no mention of protection, lack of research of swimming, hints of dubscon. Defo not proof read enough.

It was a warm July Wednesday in Paris, and the city was buzzing with excitement as the Olympics were in full swing. Noelle, a brown-haired blue-eyed journalist known for her blunt and outgoing personality, had flown in specifically for the event. Her mission: to report on the swimming competition and interview the athletes for an Irish magazine .

As she took her seat in the Aquatic Center, her eyes immediately locked onto the French swimmer Léon, a three-time gold medalist. His blonde curly hair shimmered with droplets of water, and his chiseled body moved with grace and power as he glided through the pool. Noelle’s heart skipped a beat; she knew she had to meet this man.

After a dazzling performance, Léon emerged from the water, his muscular physique on full display. He waved to the cheering crowd, his blue eyes sparkling with joy. Noelle felt a tingle between her legs as she imagined those eyes looking at her with desire. She forced herself to focus on the race, knowing she would soon get her chance to meet Léon face-to-face.

Finally, the race concluded, and Léon emerged victorious once more. As he stood on the podium, his medals glinting in the spotlight, Noelle felt her pulse quicken. She made her way to the mixed zone, where athletes and journalists interacted post-event. Her heart raced as she anticipated the moment she would come face-to-face with Léon.

And then he was there, standing before her, his skin still glistening with beads of sweat and his breath slightly ragged from the exertion of the race. Léon was even more breathtaking up close, his body a masterpiece of athletic perfection. Noelle introduced herself, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach.

"Léon, it's an honor to meet you, I'm Noelle . Congratulations on your win today. I'd love to ask you a few questions if you have a moment."

Léon's bashful smile took her breath away. "Bonjour, Noelle. The pleasure is mine. I would be delighted to answer your questions." His French accent sent a shiver down her spine, and she felt a twitch between her legs.

As they began the interview, Noelle struggled to maintain her professional demeanor. Léon's charm and good looks were distracting, and she found herself imagining what it would be like to run her hands over his sculpted body. She cleared her throat, forcing her mind back to the task at hand.

"So, Léon, tell me, how does it feel to be here in Paris, competing in your home country?"

Léon's eyes lit up as he replied, "It's a dream come true, truly magical. The support from the French crowd is incredible, and it pushes me to swim even faster."

Noelle bit her lip, her mind wandering to the night ahead and the possibility of a different kind of race—one that involved exploring each other's bodies. She shook her head slightly, determined to stay focused.

"I can only imagine," she said, her tone suggestive. "The pressure must be intense. How do you unwind after a stressful race?"

Léon's eyes darkened, and a hint of a smile played on his lips. "I like to take long, hot baths and just relax. Sometimes, I go for a run along the Seine to clear my head."

Noelle pictured Léon's strong legs pumping as he ran, his swimmer's body sleek and powerful. She fought the urge to reach out and touch his arm, her nipples hardening at the thought.

The mixed zone was beginning to clear out as the last of the journalists finished their interviews. Noelle knew this could be her only chance to make a more personal connection with Léon.

"Perhaps you'd like to show me your favorite running route?" she suggested, her voice low and inviting. "I could do with some fresh air, and it would be a pleasure to see the city through the eyes of a local."

Léon's bashful smile returned, and Noelle felt a surge of triumph. "I would love to. It's a date, then. Shall we say tonight at 8? We can run along the river and perhaps grab a drink after if you'd like."

Noelle’s heart pounded as she realized she was about to embark on a private adventure with the man of her dreams. "I wouldn't miss it for the world," she replied, her tone leaving no doubt as to her eagerness.

As they exchanged contact details, their fingers brushed, sending an electric current through Noelle’s body. Léon's eyes flicked to her lips, and she knew he was imagining kissing her as much as she was. The interview concluded, and they parted ways, both eager for the night ahead.

Later that evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange,Noelle made her way to the meeting point. Léon was already there, a vision in casual attire, his blonde curls shining in the golden hour light.

"You look beautiful," he said, his voice husky as he took in her form-fitting yoga pants and tank top.

Noelle felt a rush of desire as his intense gaze swept over her. "You don't look so bad yourself," she replied, a playful smile on her face.

They set off, running side by side along the Seine. Noelle matched her pace to Léon's, their arms occasionally brushing as they ran. The city lights twinkled in the darkness, providing a romantic backdrop to their energetic endeavor. As they ran, Léon pointed out landmarks and shared stories of his childhood in Paris. Noelle listened, enchanted, enjoying the private tour and the intimate insight into Léon's life.

As they reached a particularly picturesque spot, Léon slowed to a stop, and Noelle followed suit. They were alone on the riverbank, the city's hustle and bustle feeling miles away. Léon turned to face her, his eyes burning with desire.

"Noelle, I've been wanting to do this all night," he said, stepping closer and cupping her face in his hands.

Noelle’s heart hammered in her chest as she leaned into his touch, their lips meeting in a passionate kiss. Léon tasted of mint and desire, and Noelle felt herself melting into him. Their tongues danced, and Noelle ‘s hands roamed over his strong shoulders and back, savoring the feel of his powerful body.

Breaking the kiss, Léon nibbled along Noelle’s jawline, planting kisses down her neck. Noelle tilted her head back, moaning softly as he found a particularly sensitive spot. Léon's hands moved to the curve of her hips, pulling her against him so she could feel his hardening dick against her belly.

"I want you, Noelle ," he whispered, his voice hoarse with need. "Let's find a more comfortable place to continue this."

Noelle nodded, breathless, as Léon took her hand and led her through the darkness to a secluded spot he knew of—a quiet park bench hidden among the trees. He gently pushed her against the back of the bench, his lips crushing hers as he kicked off his shoes. Noelle felt his hands sliding under her top, caressing her soft skin, and moaned into his mouth as his thumbs grazed the underside of her full breasts.

With a swift motion, Léon lifted her top over her head, breaking away from the kiss to admire her naked breasts. He lowered his mouth to her nipples, taking one, then the other into his warm mouth, teasing them with his tongue until they peaked into hardness. She arched her back, encouraging him to take more, her hands threading through his curls.

As Léon continued his sensual assault on her breasts, his hand slipped between her thighs, finding the wet center of her desire. He rubbed her clit in slow circles, his fingers sliding easily through her slickness. Her gasps continue , her hips bucking as pleasure shot through her.

"You like that, chérie?" Léon murmured, his breath hot against her ear.

"Oui, Léon, don't stop," Noelle pleaded, her head falling back as she surrendered to the ecstasy washing over her.

Léon chuckled, the vibrations buzzing through Noelle sensitive nipple, which he was still sucking and nipping at. His fingers worked their magic, slipping inside her tight channel, thrusting slowly as he brought her closer to the edge. Noelle’s body trembled, and she cried out, her orgasm crashing over her in waves of bliss.

As her contractions slowed, Léon straightened, pressing his body against hers and capturing her mouth in a passionate kiss. Noelle could taste herself on his lips, and it sent another pulse of desire through her. She wanted him inside her, filling her completely.

"I need you, Léon," she whispered against his lips. "Please, fuck me."

Léon growled, the primal sound sending a shiver down Noelle’s spine. He lifted her, positioning her against the bench, her ass on the edge, her legs wrapped around his waist. With one smooth thrust, he slid inside her, filling her completely.

Noelle moaned, her head falling back as she enjoyed the sensation of being stretched and filled. Léon's hands gripped her hips, guiding her as he began to move, his strokes deep and purposeful. Their bodies moved in unison, the bench creaking in rhythm with their passion.

"You feel so good, Noelle ," Léon groaned, his eyes locked on hers, glittering with intense desire. "Your pussy was made for my cock."

Noelle’s walls clenched around him at his words, and she met his thrusts with her own, eager for more. "Fuck me harder, Léon," she demanded, her nails digging into his shoulders. "I want all of you."

Léon growled again, his pace quickening as he gave her what she craved. The bench rattled with the force of their passion, the slapping of their bodies filling the night air. Noelle cried out with each powerful thrust, her breasts bouncing, her head thrown back in abandon.

Léon's fingers dug into her hips as he pistoned into her, his balls slapping against her ass with each fierce thrust. Noelle felt her core tightening again, her second orgasm building as Léon's cock hit all the right spots.

"I'm close, Léon, so close," she panted, her legs tightening around him.

Léon grunted, his eyes rolling back as he teetered on the edge. With a few more powerful strokes, he sent Noelle over the brink. Her walls clamped down on him as she cried out, her body shaking with the force of her release. Léon followed, his breath catching as he spilled himself deep inside her, their juices mingling in a heated rush.

Spent, they rested, their chests heaving as they caught their breath. Léon gently extracted himself from her, his arms supporting her as they straightened. Noelle felt his cum leaking from her well-fucked pussy, a testament to their passionate encounter.

Léon pulled her into his arms, and she snuggled against him, her head on his chest. They remained like that for several moments, enjoying the afterglow of their intense coupling.

"I should probably get going," Noelle said reluctantly, knowing the night had to end eventually. "I have an early start tomorrow."

Léon nodded, his hands gently caressing her back. "I understand. But perhaps we could arrange another... meeting? There's so much more of Paris I'd love to show you."

Noelle smiled, kissing him softly. "I'd like that, Léon. Paris is even more magical than I imagined, and I think a large part of that is you."

They parted ways, their clandestine tryst a secret they would both treasure. As she made her way back to her hotel, she knew this trip to Paris would be unforgettable, and it wasn't just because of the Olympics. Léon had shown her a whole new side to the City of Love.

End.

[arcane-vagabond]

Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter Two

Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter Two

Pairing: Jake "Hangman Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake "Hangman" Seresin is a notorious leader within the Dagger Gang of the old western territories of the United States. You, a recently orphaned socialite from the eastern seaboard, find yourself swept off to live with your older brother who has set down roots in said western territory. Determined to to make the best of your situation, what will you do when said outlaw sets his sights on you?

Warnings: Language, Jake flirting, nothing else really.

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: So, I lied. Here's another update for you all. Feel like the quality might have dropped off a little halfway since I wrote the last half on my phone at work lol I'm not sure yet if I'll have anything to post tomorrow as I work weird hours, but here's hoping! As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated. My inbox is always open to chat. 18+ ONLY!! Find me on AO3 under arcane_vagabond! Enjoy!

Series Masterlist || DGU Masterlist

“Well, this is it,” Benjamin proclaimed proudly. You looked at the house before you. It was a large, two story home with freshly painted white walls and matching white picket fence surrounding the yard. A chimney was built on both sides of the house, and a giant porch hugged the front as well as the second floor. A barn sat further down the path that led to your new home, and a simple wooden fence stretched even further.

“It’s beautiful, Benji,” you started, “but how much land did you purchase?”

Benjamin rubbed his neck sheepishly. “About one thousand acres.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “One thousand acres? Benji!”

“Hear me out, Scout,” he pleaded. “The cattle we raise will bring in even more money. We can establish a legacy here!”

“We already had a legacy,” you muttered, and Benjamin fixed you with soft, pleading eyes. You sighed. “You don’t even know the first thing about raising cattle.”

He perked up. “Oh, Maverick said he’d teach me all I need to know. Even made suggestions on who to hire as ranch hands when the time comes. He’s the one that convinced me to seek out my fortunes.”

“Was he now?” You murmured, already plotting what you were going to say to the town’s founder when you met him.

“I know what you’re thinking,” said Benjamin, and you glanced up at him. “But this will be good for us, Scout. We’ll be a part of history and expanding our country. Making it better.”

You hummed, and he continued with a sigh. “The truth is, Scout, my firm isn’t making as much money as I had hoped out here. Ranching will help bolster our income until I can become more established in these parts.”

You sighed, knowing there wasn’t much you could say in argument. Instead, you turned back to look at the house, shadows growing darker as the sun finally disappeared below the horizon. “Let’s go then. I’m eager to see the new house.”

Benjamin practically skipped up to the house, holding the door open for you as you stepped inside. It was much grander than you were expecting. Wooden floors gave way to a grand staircase that turned into the next floor. You made your way through one of the archways and found yourself in the parlor. Your family’s furniture already decorated the room, and you brushed your fingers gently over the top of the grand piano in the corner. Continuing, you found yourself standing in a large kitchen, one of the fireplaces taking up a large portion of the far wall.

“If you’re hungry, I think Natasha left some stew for us,” Benjamin, striding over to where a pot hung above the small fire. You raised an eyebrow, barely containing your smirk.

“Does Natasha cook for you often?”

You saw a bashful expression creep its way onto your brother’s face as he straightened up to look at you with a small pout. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

You chuckled and waved a hand dismissively. “I’m only teasing, Benji. But, no. I’m not hungry at the moment. I’d much rather get some rest after my long day of travel.”

Benjamin nodded and led you up the stairs. He stopped in front of the second door on the right, opening it and gesturing for you to step inside. Doing so, you saw your familiar pieces of furniture that you had shipped off weeks ago. Your hand mirror sat on your vanity, and your wardrobe door was opened to reveal your more practical, every day use dresses. You walked further into the room and up to the window. Peering out, you could faintly make out the barn and rolling desert in the sprawling darkness. If you looked harder, you could faintly see the outline of the distant mountains. Turning back to face your brother, you offered a smile.

“It’s lovely, Benji. Thank you.”

Benjamin returned your smile and gestured down the hall. “My room is two down if you need me for anything.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine for the evening. Go on,” you waved him off. “You need your sleep just as much as I do.

“Before I forget, Maverick has invited us to dinner with him and his wife, Penny, the night after next,” he said. You nodded, letting him know that you had heard.With one last smile, Benjamin closed the door behind him.

“Benji, have you gone shopping for supplies at all, or do you send poor Natasha out to do your tasks?” you clucked impatiently, finding nothing but a stale loaf of bread in the pantry. You had managed to collect the eggs from the chicken coop earlier that morning, and that was all that made up you and your brother’s meager breakfast.

“I haven’t the time, Scout,” he mumbled, already gathering his things for the day. “Besides, you know I’m not much of a cook.”

“How you’ve survived this long, I’ll never understand,” you said with a roll of your eyes. Benjamin looked at you with a twinkle in his.

“Eye rolling is not becoming of a proper young lady,” he snickered. Scowling you made to whip him with the towel you held in your hand, but he dodged it at the last second.

“Go, before you’re late,” you hollered as he rushed out the door. Sighing, you made a mental note to teach him at least some of the basics in the upcoming days. Turning, you marched back into the pantry and looked at the empty shelves disdainfully with hand on your hips.

“Honestly,” you muttered, exasperated at how incompetent your brother seemed at doing the most basic of things. You made a list of supplies you would need in the upcoming days, and walked out to take another look at the house. As much as your brother could fumble on the small things, he did have an eye for home decor. There were very few pieces of furniture you wanted to move around across the whole house, and you made another mental note to let Benjamin know that evening when he returned.

Walking out the front door with a basket in hand for your supplies, your eyes were drawn to a small patch of the front yard that had been fenced off. How you hadn’t noticed it the night before was beyond you, and you chose to chalk it up to fatigue from your journey. You walked over and saw several gardening tools scattered along the ground, and you realized this must have been the garden Benjamin had mentioned yesterday to you in his excitement.You added seeds to your list of supplies for the day.

You turned away from the garden and made sure to latch the gate to your front yard securely before strolling down the path into town.

Today was much like yesterday had been. People walking up and down the streets, shouting at one another in greeting, and children still running about. You wondered why they weren’t in school at this time of day. You resolved yourself to asking Maverick about it the next evening at dinner. Turning down on to the main street, you stepped onto the porch of the general store. Across the street at the saloon, you saw a group of men gathered by the entrance. One of them turned and saw you, and you suppressed an eye roll when he let out a long whistle.

“Hey there, darlin’!” he called out to you. He was handsome, you’d give him that. His dark skin glowed in the sunlight and you could make out his white smile from across the road. Strong muscles were hidden by his simple, white cotton shirt and beige wool pants. A hat covered his short, dark hair. Choosing to ignore the stranger, and by extension his four companions who had turned to look your way, you walked into the general store. the owner greeted you as you stepped into the spacious room that housed a multitude of goods from different places.

“Howdy, miss!” He chirped, leaning against the counter with a smile. He was older, dark skin weathered. “Haven’t seen you ‘round these parts before. The name’s Hondo.”

You returned his smile warmly. “A pleasure, Hondo. My name is y/n. My brother is Benjamin, perhaps you know him? He runs the firm just down the road.”

“Ah, yes!” He chuckled. “The lawyer from Baltimore. Well, miss, you’re in luck! I’ve just gotten back from Independence with new goods and I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until my partner, Joel, arrives back in town. Should be any day now, in fact.”

“I see, and what is that you have today?” You inquired, taking in the multitudes of crates still scattered around the counter.

“Let’s see,” Hondo thought. “I got some salt and some fine new tools from St.Louis. I also managed to trade for some fresh produce down by Independence.”

“That sounds lovely,” you smiled as Hondo began showing you his wears.

You spent about a half hour picking out the best produce Hondo had to offer, making plans to return when his partner made it back into town.

“Hondo, I don’t suppose you have anything in the way of cooking wine?” You asked, placing your new wears into your basket. Hondo grimaced with a shake of his head.

“'Fraid not, miss.” He sighed, looking out past his door towards the tavern. “But Miss Penny should have somethin’ for you to use.”

“Maverick’s wife?” You asked, unable to keep the surprise out of your voice. Hondo nodded, a look if worry on his face.

“Penny runs the saloon here in town. Normally, I wouldn���t even suggest you go ‘round that place without someone accompanyin’ you, but everyone here knows not to mess with Miss Penny. You should be safe while she’s there.”

You handed Hondo the money you owed him, and gave him a grateful smile. “I’m sure I’ll be perfectly fine.”

“Just be careful who you talk to when you’re over there, ya hear?” He called after you as you moved to leave. “A lot of real unsavory types like to prey on pretty, little things like you!”

“I will!” You called over your shoulder. You looked across the street to see the group of men from earlier had migrated down the porch over to, you assumed, their horses. Making sure they were safely distracted, you hurried your way across the road. Trotting up the steps, you made it to the door just as the group turned around to see you. Before they could say anything, however, you marched confidently into the saloon.

You weren’t sure what you had been expecting, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as you had thought, considering Hondo’s warning. The interior looked a tad run down, but you supposed it had been in business for a while. It was clear that it was a beauty back in its debut. A piano was shoved against the far wall and several tables were scattered across the room with a few patrons nursing different liquids. A woman came out of a back room and spotted you. She was one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen. Dark hair framed a slender face, and bright eyes looked at you with a maternal warmth you hadn’t seen in quite a while.

“Hey there, sweetheart!” She called to you. “What is it that I can getcha?”

“Hi,” you smiled, walking closer to the counter where she leaned. You could feel the stares from the other patrons on your back, and you couldn’t help but stiffen.

“Don’t you worry, darlin’,” she started, casting a stern look across the room. “No one here’ll mess with you while I’m here. Name’s Penny.”

You held out your hand when you were close enough to the bar to reach her. “I’m y/n. It’s a pleasure.”

“You must be Benjamin’s sister. You two look so much alike, I don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner,” she laughed, the lines on her face crinkling. You couldn’t help but wonder if you would look as beautiful as she did when you were her age. She took your hand and gave it a tight squeeze.

“We get that quite a bit, actually,” you chuckled, dropping your hand back down to your side.

Penny’s smile grew wider. “So, how can I help you today?”

“I’m looking for some cooking wine. Hondo mentioned you might be able to help me find some.”

“Cooking wine, huh?” She chewed her lip thoughtfully. After a moment, she nodded, turning to head back into the back room. “Yeah, I think I just got some new bottles in, actually.”

You waited while she disappeared through the door. You heard the group of men outside on the porch, and it sounded like they had moved back towards the entrance. You let out a heavy sigh, realizing that you wouldn’t be able to avoid them forever. You took a closer look at the saloon. A set of stairs led up to a second floor that must double as an inn of sorts. Your brother had told you that's where he stayed while your home was being built.

“The townsfolk here are all kind as saints here, Scout,” he had written to you in one of his many letters. He hadn’t been wrong, well, save for one person. You frowned at the memory of the tall blond and his debonair smile. The outlaw probably wooed many girls with those good looks and charming words. You would not be fooled.

At that moment, Penny appeared back around the corner with two bottles of wine and another warm smile. You took the bottles from her gratefully, and slipped them into your basket.

“How much do I owe you?” You asked, but Penny shook her head.

“No charge,” she said. “Call it a ‘welcome to town’ gift.”

“Thank you,” you responded. You heard the group outside laugh, and you couldn't stop the slight frown from etching itself onto your face. Penny noticed, and offered a sympathetic smile.

“Those boys may be loud and rowdy,” she began, “but they’re harmless. I promise. Just walk out of here with your head held high, and if they start to give you trouble, you call for me. I’ll knock their heads together.”

You nodded your head. You made your way back to the swinging doors, but stopped just shy. You willed your nerves to settle, and straightening your shoulders, you marched as confidently as you could out of the saloon.

The men were all gathered around the steps, and their conversation stopped when you stepped out. You could see them all more clearly now, and to your dismay, they were all unfairly handsome.

“Hey there again, darlin’,” grinned the man from before. He leaned in closer to you with a glint in his eye. “Name’s Javy. What’s yours?”

“Coyote, you asshole,” snapped the man to his left. “Tell her our names, too!”

Javy—Coyote—rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath that you didn’t catch.

“These here are my compadres—Bradley, Bob, Mickey, and Reuben,” he said, gesturing to each man as he said their name. He turned back to you with a smirk. “Now what about yours?”

At that moment, the saloon doors swung open, and a familiar blond strolled out with a hard set look on his face. His eyes darted from the group of men before you down to yours, and his grumpy expression melted into a lascivious smirk.

“Did you get it?” Asked the man off to your right—Bradley. Jake spared him a glance before returning his eyes to you.

“‘Course I did, Rooster,” he replied, walking closer to you. You gripped your basket harder and fixed him with a glare. “Fancy seeing you here, Scout.”

Rooster? You realized now that the Dagger Gang is who stood before you, and you suddenly found yourself feeling weary.

“Mr. Seresin,” you replied curtly, turning his smirk into a full blown grin.

“C’mon now, Scout. I thought we decided you’d call me Jake?”

“I don’t recall that being how the conversation went,” you sniffed. Javy cleared his throat from where he stood from behind you. You both looked over to find him and the rest of the squad grinning. Well, Bradley was smirking. The others were grinning.

“Is this the little spitfire you were goin’ on and and on about last night, Hangman?” Bradley—Rooster—asked, humor evident in his voice. You glanced over at Jake who had a dusting of pink spreading across his cheeks. Ignoring his friends, he looked back at you, some of his bravado returning.

“Ignore my friends,” he said, smile returning. “They don't know when to shut up.”

You hummed, “I could say the same thing about you.”

You heard a couple of snickers from behind you, and Jake cast a glare over your shoulder. Looking back at you, he continued, “Now, sugar. That wasn’t very nice. I’ve been plenty nice to you.”

You let out a noise of derision. “You and I must have very different definitions of the word ‘nice,’ Mr. Seresin.”

“If you let me,” he smirked, leaning closer so that his breath fanned over your face. Your eyes widened and your heart stopped for a brief moment at his proximity. “I could show you all the ways I can be nice.”

You didn’t respond for a moment, lost in the emeralds of his eyes. Blinking, you murmured, “Not a chance.”

You turned to the group behind you, offering them a tight lipped smile. “It was a pleasure to meet you all.”

“I have a feeling we’ll be seeing a lot more of you in the near future, sweetheart,” grinned Javy.

“Yes, well,” you smiled politely, “let’s hope not.”

You pushed past them and began making your way down the road. A hand gripped your elbow, spinning you back around so that you crashed into a solid chest of muscle. Looking up, stunned, you were once again in close proximity of Jake Seresin.

“Let me give you a ride home,” he offered, gesturing back at Whiskey. You shook your head, placing a hand on his chest to try and put some kind of barrier between the two of you. Jake took your hand in his, squeezing it tight.

“That's not necessary,” you breathed. “I live just down the road.”

“Then let me walk you,” he pushed.

“Down the street?” You snorted. Jake grinned, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.

“A lot could happen between now and when you get home.”

“Goodbye, Jake,” you said with a pointed look, pulling away from him. You tried not to frown at how cold you felt without his presence next to you. You turned to walk away.

“I’ll wear you down one day, sugar! You’ll be in love with me before you know it,” He called after you. You stopped in your tracks, whirling around to fix him with your iciest glare.

“I am not something to be conquered,” you hissed. Jake stared at you for a long minute, a different kind of smile crept onto his face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have said this one was almost…affectionate.

“I don’t expect you to be,” he said finally, giving you a two finger salute. “I’ll be seeing you soon, Scout.”

[dceasesd]

Do you pirate comics? And if you do please gimme your piracy site mine isn't working😞

And could you give me asshole Bruce and Jason fic recs but specifically "I'm a selfish controlling man child and I love my family and will go to hell and back for them and will do anything to keep them safe" Bruce not "I'm an unfeeling man child who only cares for his narrow views of justice"Bruce

If you don't have any fics like this specifically I would gladly take any Bruce and Jason fics that doesn't bash either of the characters or their idles

i gotcha man i gotcha

i personally pirate all my comics on readcomiconline.li, which i find by typing the title of the comic and issue im looking for followed by ‘read’. usually it’s the first option!! it might depend on what country you’re in, though— i’m in the u.s. and it works for me but i’ve heard of people from other places having trouble with it :P

(also, be warned, readcomiconline.li has so. many. pop-ups. use at your own risk)

and oh my god i have so many thank u so much for asking i love giving recs so much (under the cut!!!!)

alrighty bruce and jay fics pls enjoy!!!

Clearly Calm and Keeping Terrorized by Batbirdies

this is one of my favorite fics of all time it’s so good!! it’s literally exactly what you’re looking for. i’d recommend reading the entire series for full affect, but a very basic summary of the plot is bruce goes to therapy and tries to unruin his familial relationships :-) this fic focuses on his attempts w jason. so great!

This Place we Built with Grace and Guilt by Cerusee

yeeowch this one hurts!! another one of my favorite authors, definitely also check out the rest of cerusee’s works, they’re great!! if i had to describe this fic in one word it would be GUILT

The Penny Drops, The Penny Dreads by Batbirdies

omg second batbirdies fic on this list they just get bruce and jay like no one else what can i say!!! this is the only wip on this list but it is very good and i can’t wait for more!! jason and bruce trying to figure out how to have a relationship w their contrasting class backgrounds

The Distance Between Us by AutumnHobbit

this is the one i instantly thought of when i saw ur ask— autumnhobbit is so good! bruce is traumatized and trying his best and that’s what matters

the city carries ruin in its hearts by nex_et_nox

outsider pov of bruce and jason’s relationship!! an interesting perspective, jim gordon is a surprisingly fun character to read!!

borderline by TheResurrectionist

this isn’t specifically jason and bruce and more bruce and everyone in the family, but there is some good jason&bruce dynamic. control freak bruce tries to stop being a control freak

Come Alive by captainozone

this is a young justice fic so if you haven’t seen the show you might be a tiny bit confused, but it’s essentially just a ‘jason comes home’ fic!! one of my all time favorites!

THIS ISN’T PUNISHMENT (I LOVE YOU.) by orphenusaki

orphenusaki i love you all your fics are amazing pls never stop writing!! this author is so great so id recommend checking out their other stuff as well, but this one features a long-needed convo between bruce and jason prompted by truth serum.

hope you like these!!!! thanks again for the ask <333 happy reading!!!!

[hier--soir]

feb + mar + apr reads

norma jean baker of troy by anne carson [★★★★★]

"Sometimes I think language should cover its own eyes when it speaks."

"Is she human? Are you? Is she a beast out of control? There's so much danger. No human can become just a beast, you plunge beyond - beyond what? Remember Jack the Ripper? 'I'm down on whores and I shan't quit ripping them till I get buckled,' Jack wrote in a letter to the newspaper, September 18, 1888. He never did get buckled. Of course insane, his mind blooming with it, who could go down that rabbit-hole or unlock such a puzzle as Jack? - but still, the woman! the thing is! the woman has everything and you smile and you take some."

: ̗̀➛ an exploration of the lives and myths of marilyn monroe and helen of troy.

: ̗̀➛ anne carson is there anything you can't do? please email me back. please.

piglet by lottie hazell [★★★★]

"'I want to make some food,' she said. 'For both of us?' he asked. 'No, just for me.'"

: ̗̀➛ one woman, piglet, and the lead up to her wedding in the face of a big confession from her fiancé.

: ̗̀➛ this one slipped beneath my skin and writhed around the spot inside me where i've tucked away all of my food issues.

merciless gods by christos tsiolkas [★★]

"I'm scared that if I let go, not only the room, not only this city, but the whole world will go cold forever."

"Your false gods cannot save you. There is only one God, my God."

: ̗̀➛ short stories that bash you over the head with how awful things and people and places can be. i did not live for this one... particularly wasn't into the one where a guy jerked his dad who has alzheimers off.

foe by iain reid [★★]

"All day. Time keeps moving. I've always thought that was a good thing. Until recently. I'm not so sure now. Is it good? For time to go by fast?"

: ̗̀➛ they want to send junior to space and replace him with a robot that looks and acts and talks exactly like him so his wife has company in his absence.

: ̗̀➛ marriage and trust and complacency, and a guy called terrence who we get reminded over and over has long gorgeous hair.

: ̗̀➛ a little boring for my taste. i had an idea of where it was going pretty early on, and it took a while for me to be proven right. pretty disconcerting!

acts of desperation by megan nolan [★★★★]

"The need was a true and human part of me, but I could feel nothing else of myself to be true or human, and so the need seemed ungodly, an aberration."

: ̗̀➛ a book full of confession, desire, jealousy, violence, and power. messy messy messy!!!! readers procceed with caution.

: ̗̀➛ shout out to everyone who said i should read this - you were right, it is up my alley.

gone girl by gillian flynn [★★★★]

"My wife was no longer my wife but a razor-wire knot daring me to unloop her, and I was not up to the job with my thick, numb, nervous fingers. Country fingers. Flyover fingers untrained in the intricate, dangerous work of solving Amy. When I'd hold up the bloody stumps, she'd sigh and turn to her secret mental notebook on which she tallied all my deficiencies, forever noting disappointments, frailties, shortcomings."

: ̗̀➛ i have become a gillian flynn STAN this year, it's true. despite having seen the movie multiple times, i enjoyed reading this, and was delighted to find some differences in the texts [for better and for worse].

: ̗̀➛ nick dunne, big fan of the lie of omission, mama's boy whose mama is dead, i'd like to introduce you to couples therapy.

dead beautiful and life eternal by yvonne woon [reread] [★★★]

: ̗̀➛ the first two books in a paranormal romance trilogy. these kinda bang guys, i can't lie. 15-year-old me was onto something when she decided to keep these instead of donating them. however, they DO have some of the worst book covers i've ever seen, sorry yvonne.

fourth wing by rebecca yarros [★★★]

: ̗̀➛ a romantasy book that has dragons, smut, and twists that you'll see coming from a mile away. pretty fun. recced to me by one man in person and a thousand women on tik tok.

: ̗̀➛ no one who has the thought 'double standards for the win' is using 'whomever' in a casual sentence with the guy she's having sex with.

: ̗̀➛ good enemies to lovers should have actual murder attempts. but maybe that's jusT MY OPINION.

my book rating system is as follows:

★ = i felt pure contempt the entire time

★★ = yeah it's a book

★★★ = i liked it!

★★★★ = good fucking book, damn

★★★★★ = blew my dick clean off and i'll throw a tantrum if everyone i know doesn't also read it and love it

[pachu09]

Isekai, Historical, Magical AU

Tobirama wanted to bash his head onto the nearest hard object his eye could spy. But! He didn't want to furthermore traumatized the child that was contently sitting in his arms.

He was so sure this didn't happened in the manga. The Emperor should have arrived after he successfully rescued Kagami!. So why did the bastard arrived way too early than the plot stated?!. Did he do something wrong?. So far nothing noteworthy happened when he transported in this world. Other than of course he had to learn how to use his Chakra. Which is pretty amazing in itself....

Tobirama cuts off his wandering thoughts and eyed suspiciously the Emperor and his entourage behind him. He better act like he's ignorant of the man's identity. Who knows what the Emperor would do to him if he revealed he knew who he is?.

" I don't really trust a man with a small army at his back not to kill me the moment I handed this child to you. "

The Emperor laugh loudly made Tobirama tensed in fear. " Fair enough, stranger.  Would you mind telling me what is your name so I could properly thank you for singlehandedly rescuing my nephew?. "

Tobirama pursed his lips. He decided to not tell his real name in case the Emperor tried to seek him out. " Call me Bito. " The Emperor face smoothing blankly made Tobirama warily eyed him. He carefully avoided the man's eyes when it seems his carefree attitude had suddenly vanished and then he turn to Kagami again.

" Little one. Your Uncle is here. Don't you want to go Home?. "

Kagami looked up to him with wide eyes. " But Bito!. You promised you'll go Home with me. "

Tobirama twitch. " I didn't promise anything little one. Go on. Your Uncle is waiting. Its rude to make him wait for you. "

Kagami suddenly clutches his neck and kisses his cheek affectionately had made Tobirama nearly drop the child.

" Okay Bito. But promise me you'll come visit me!. "

Tobirama deadpan and just went along in twining his pinky finger to that of the whining child. He then carefully handed a sleepy Kagami back to his Uncle who still had that emotionless look on his face.

He really need to skedaddle out of the Uchiha Kingdom if he doesn't want to end up beheaded like the original owner of this body. Nevermind in breaking his promise to Kagami but his life is on the line here!. Time is ticking and the sooner he's far away from this murderous Emperor the better it is.

Oh!. And he should probably find a noble Husband ( on paper only! He's straight as fuck thank you very much ). Just in case he needed a political backup. He heard the Water Clans like their spouses with Water Affinity. Surely, with how powerful he is he could easily snag a rich Noble there?.

" Thank you again, Bito–san " Tobirama ignored the strange intonation of the Emperor uttering his false name. " I hope we'll meet again soon. "

Tobirama felt chills running down his spine at that innocent remark.

" I don't think so. Since I'm just a passerby in this City. "

The Emperor's dark eyes pinning him on where he stood made Tobirama tensed up again. He's ready to teleport out of there in case the Emperor went nuts.

" Is that so?. And pray tell why you're visiting this...specific City?.

Tobirama scratches his cheek in embarrassment. " Ah. I was hoping I could find a suitable Husband but sadly I find none appealing. So I'm on my way to the next country. "

The Emperor blink and tilted his head at him. " That's strange. No sane City folk would dare to release you if you proposed to be their Spouse. "

Tobirama carefully back away. " Well thank the Gods they don't find me appealing. Goodbye good Sir and take good care of Kagami. That boy is quite a handful at times. " he quickly climb up on his horse and directed it to start walking. He never even look back at the small army behind his back. He's quite afraid to trigger the mad Emperor. He must make sure he can even journey out of the Fire country without any further incident.

Afterall, the original owner of the body he was occupying was unfairly beheaded by that insane Emperor and Tobirama who had read the manga several times had felt pity and sadness at the person who triggered Kagami’s slow descent to insanity. The manga Tobirama ( he's unnerved that he shared the man's name and even physical looks aside from the long hair, which he will surely chop off as soon as he had the chance ) had died because of a wrongful accusation.

Manga Tobirama had paid the false accusation with his reputation and life. And it started as a Catalyst for one Kagami to bear a hateful grudge to his whole Clan and most of all to his once beloved Uncle. The little child that he just met had grew up hating with every fiber of his being the people who made his Sensei suffer needlessly and in the end he managed to rebel against his Uncle but he also lost his own life in the process of trying to kill his own kin.

At the time when he read that particular scene he felt so sad at Kagami’s fate. The boy shouldn't have gone down the path of his hateful revenge. Because he knew one hundred percent that the Tobirama in the manga would have sacrifice his own life again and again just to make sure Kagami would live a happy life.

Tobirama sigh loudly, at least at this time he wouldn't be too close with Kagami and the boy will never go down his dark journey again. As long as he wasn't in the picture. It probably is for the best since he himself need to make sure he wouldn't die in this world.

He tap his horse on its side so that it could gallop faster. He suddenly felt unnerved when he activated his Sensing and it told him the Emperor and his entourage hasn't move from where he left them.

Tobirama decided he better not turn off his Sensing. He feared that there's a tail behind him. Unless he's finally near the Water Country then and only then will he turn it off even though the price of using such Chakra draining technique is tremendous. Ah, he'll makes sure he'll spend a week in Water Country recovering from overusing his Sensing.

With that clear plan, Tobirama gladly proceeds to rode his horse to the nearest small settlement.

~●~●~

A week later.

Tobirama stared at the expensive scroll the innkeeper had handed to him. He nearly drop the thing when he saw the Royal seal of the Uchiha. He decided he had to feign ignorance. Because he didn't really want to read whatever in it.

" I think this letter isn't really for me is it?. "

He donned his serious facial expression. The innkeeper stared confusedly at him.

" The Uchiha General outside the Inn told me to give it specifically to you. "

Tobirama instantly tensed up. The Uchiha General?. Why did he track him down? Shouldn't the Emperor had lost interest in him the moment he crossed over the Water Country?. What did he want from him?. Its not like he'll go back to the Fire Country in his own volition. He likes living and with his head intact. Thank you very much. He then glared at the damning scroll, sighed deeply and unrolled it.

He twitches on his place as he read the Emperor's message. The man is asking if he arrived unscathed to the Water Country. So far so good. Until the next paragraph made him want to scream in frustration.

Apparently, the Emperor is formally inviting him to be Kagami's personal Sensei. He shuddered in fear. No thanks. He better write up his reply quickly and give it to the General outside. His eyes then quickly scan the P.S beneath the Emperor's signature and stamped seal. He felt his Soul literally leaving his body as the message rang across inside his skull painfully.

P.S. If you try to deny my request. I will personally hunt you down and dragged you to my palace. There is no place in this world you can hide from me, Senju Tobirama.

Tobirama thinks it's time to implement his drastic plans. If the Emperor thinks he'll just roll over and do his biddings. He'll prove him wrong by making sure he won't ever catch him!.

~●~●~

A month later, Tobirama was unaware as he was carried back by the Emperor of the Fire Country back to his palace. He was left heavily unconscious as he tried to fight one on one the most powerful man in the Elemental Countries. He was also unaware as he was given a seal on the back of his neck. Stating that he was the Emperor's most prized treasure or that he was installed in the Empress Chambers.

Come morning, Tobirama will wake up to a joyous Kagami jumping on him and the Emperor's Brother personally telling him that the entire Fire Country court was in a political meltdown because the Emperor had gotten rid of his dozens of Concubines because of him.

[transformation4life]

Cop Out

"Put your hands where I can see them!" A Cop got out of his police car to apprehend the vigilante spray painting a public building

Officer Harold had been on the police force for almost 20 years now and has been through all the hate Cops have been given over the years from being called a pig, to the protests, and all the mockery and slander. To him he didn't understand he was just trying to help people!

"Alright PIG, I'll stop," The vigilante Maxwell snarled back.

Harold sighed. Another day of being called a pig. Without much thought he grabbed his cuffs to detain Maxwell and send him to the station.

"Just so you know PIG. You may catch me now but I WILL be back!!!!!" Harold stopped in his tracks as Maxwell spoke again.

"Alright that's it Mister. I'm DONE with people like you. I've been on the force for years!!!! You will NEVER understand what we have to go through. We serve this country and we get treated like shit!! I just wish you would understand. Be in the shoes of someone on the force and then we'll see how you feel!" Harold blurted his frustration out at Maxwell which probably wasn't the best idea but he was his limit.

Maxwell couldn't care less but when he tried to open his mouth to speak more insults he found himself unable to speak. Not to mention something felt odd to him. Like he felt like he should respect Officer Harold despite all his earlier statements.

"O-Okay, sir..." Maxwell spoke in a meek tone.

Harold was a bit surprised to hear Maxwell suddenly respect him, but he appreciated the sudden niceness.

"Alright, I'll let you be just this once! Don't get in the way of another officer like myself and you'll be good in my book," Harold put his cuffs away and bids Maxwell farewell.

Maxwell waves goodbye and for some reason... he wanted to see the officer again. It was against all his bashing of police over the years and he knows it and yet... he yearns for it. He walked home to his meager apartment to sleep it off.

Maxwell woke up groggy as he stumbled his way to his dingy bathroom feeling like an entire weight dropped on him. Making his way to the mirror he looked like his usual self. Blond hair, brown eyes, skinny frame.. He remembered his encounter with Officer Harold and the strange feeling Maxwell got after Harold spoke his heart out. He longed to see him again, someway somehow.

"I wish I could see him again..." Maxwell said without thinking.

Suddenly Maxwell's phone began to rang loudly in his pocket. As a vigilante he always answered calls without question so he picked up the phone.

"Who is this?"

"Hello... Maxwell." a enchanting voice called to Maxwell immediately putting him in a trance that made him not want to hang up.

"Listen to me very carefully..."

"What are you doing?? How do you know my name??"

"You're a strong bodybuilder that's been working out for YEARS,"

"But I'm not-"

"You're a strong bodybuilder that's been working out for YEARS,"

"I'm a strong bodybuilder that's been working out for years," As soon as the words left his mouth Maxwell's body began to grow to fit his new lifestyle. Large pecs, massive shoulders, huge back, killer biceps that would make gods jealous with strong visible veins, a sexy set of abs, thick neck with a prominent adam's apple, and his crowning feature of thick beautiful thighs. His clothes melted away leaving him in his just his underwear as he remembered his years pumping iron and winning competitions. It was all Maxwell cared about.

Maxwell broke from his trance to give a quick bicep flex before the voice lured him back.

"You've been a cop for 10 years and LOVE your job."

"That's preposterous!! Bodybuilding is my only calling and not to mention those pigs-"

"You've been a cop for 10 years and LOVE your job."

"I've been a cop for 10 years and love my job." Years of bodybuilding now mixed with years in police training and Dean proudly showing his badge to any criminals that dared to cross him.

Black pants materialized onto his frame along with an accompanying black belt and black police boots with black socks that wrapped around his big feet. The belt was slowly being equipped with police gear one by one. Handcuffs, knifes, guns, and other miscellaneous things. All the things a cop like himself needs.

Maxwell was getting for work at the moment before this mysterious man called him. He does know he could get him arrested in seconds right? Oh well might as well toy with the fellow at least that's what Maxwell rationalized.

"Of course I'm an officer. Been one for ten years and I of course love doing my part, even the naysayers doubt my squad!"

"That's right Maxwell, oh sorry... Max,"

"Do you know who you're talking to? My name is Maxwell! Always have been always will-"

"Your name is Max Schmidt,"

"My name is Max Schmidt," Max loved his name. Fit his manly exterior and manly interior.

"So what do you want with me? Are you one of those ACAB folks? Trying to make me slip?

"No sir, I only want what's best for the force! And you... Now check yourself out..."

"That's inappropriate behavior unbefitting of an officer! What is your name so I can call the stati-"

"Open the camera app and check yourself out NOW," Max immediately took the phone off his ear and opened the camera app. He immediately zoomed in on his chest and abs and then felt those great abs of his.

While this was happening a black police shirt wrapped around Max's large frame as his hair darkened into a light black and his eyes became darker becoming a black color. Max's hair become more put together and more uniform fit for a police officer. A somewhat expensive white watch appeared on his left arm that he always wore. Max still wanted to obey the caller's comand so he used his hand to lift the new shirt to reveal his abs.

Underneath the tight pants Max's newly enlarged cock was having a hard-on.

"Good... Good... Now how do you love?" Max stopped checking himself out in order to respond.

"Haha! You really think I'd tell some criminal that! I don't have my eyes on anyone! Just hard work as police and muscle!

"That's not right, what about your loving husband... Harold?"

"Harold? My superior? Nah we're just good friends! I respect him a great deal but I'm straight as an arrow! No way I would ever marry a ma-"

"You're married to Harold Schmidt your loving husband,"

"I'm married to Harold Schmidt my loving husband," Max remembers the wedding well. Everyone in the force was there cheering them on as they kissed under the altar. Not to mention what they do in private at the police office. Max's already hard cock got even harder as a shiny ring appeared on his ring finger.

"That's great Max, just great! Just one more thing. How's your age going? Must be hard being 39 years of age,"

"I'm only 25, criminal."

"Nah, You're definitely 39,"

"I'm definitely 39," How could Mike forget his age. He reveled in his almost 40's age while his husband was a good ripe age of 50.

"Amazing, brilliant. My work here is done. Have a good day Officer Max," The call ended.

"...What was that?! I need to report this to the station immediately! Better get to work!" Max made another flex as a name tag with his manly name shined onto him. "M. Schmidt"

Max made his way to his cop car. He always loved throwing those pesky cop haters into the back and hear their screams and cries for help, usually with his husband in the passenger seat. Speaking of his husband he should send a pic to his husband to know he's coming to the station. But first his signature shades!

"Hey Honey, bicep flex for you <3" And sent.

Max's nametag shined in the glistening heat as he adjusted his rearview mirror.

"Lookin' good there, Schmidt." Max said to himself.

Max turned the car engine on and he gripped his strong weathered hands onto the wheel and drove to the station.

The drive was long, but standard for a officer like himself. Along the way he already had to apprehend a couple criminals that shouted the slurs he was oh so used to. It was quite tiring and had him quite parched so a good drink would do him good so he used his meaty hand to gulp down some fresh water from the bottle in the cupholder of his car.

"Honey I'm home!" Max shouted as he opened the door to Harold's office at the station.

"M-Max! Don't say it so loud! People will find out what we do in here!" Harold stammered out before getting hit with a kiss on the lips.

"I know I know, but can't the two strongest police officers on the force have a little fun while on the job?" Max said with a lustful smirk.

"Oh Max, I could never get mad at you. Although... Let's deal with the criminals you arrested first," Harold Nudged to the paperwork regarding the arrests Max was currently holding.

"Right..... forgot about that!" Max promptly threw the papers aside and began to undress himself right in front of his husband much to said Husband's shock.

"Harold! What are you-" Harold was interrupted as a passionate kissed began to form between the two lovers.

Harold's worries washed away as the lovebirds embraces with a passionate and long kiss. What felt like hours passed as they made out all over the room. The rustling of papers, knick-knacks all over the floor, and even a whole phone on the ground.

"I love you, babe." Max muttered

"Love you too..." Harold muttered back before snapping back to reality. The entire office was in disarray but the two of them were happier than ever.

"Say... let's get the boys out for a shooting range!" Max mentioned as he put his uniform back on.

"Sounds like a great idea! Those criminals can wait." The pair left to tell the boys they were about to a wild time.

Two unlikely people now bound together and neither were none the wiser of their old lives.

"Let's get to shootin' boys!"