#she's so precious???and i love her so much???

[pastelsav]

ugh this is so sweet I cry!!! Absolutely how it was with my kitten Lilly🥹 15 yrs going strong and we are each others rocks! It took major time and patience (I’m talking years) from the trauma she endured but I never lost faith and I loved every second, and will continue too! I have so much love and great fullness that I am able to share my life with her 🥹🫶🏼☺️ like u have no idea how much and how deeply this cat means to me yall… she’s my precious angel baby and I’m her person and her Mama💋❤️

[baphometsss]

the 'memories of a duet' codex is so interesting and not just because you can read it in so many ways. given that mythal is on the codex card i think you can safely assume it's about her, but it reveals so much about their relationship if you pay attention. this is a memory of solas learning a song/composing it for her, to remind her of who they are (were) when everything sang the same (in the fade, when they were spirits). she's doing her own thing at court but he does it all just to get a single happy glance from her, to see her remember the familiarity that is so integral to solas's understanding of who he is. 'seeing wholly, being wholly seen'. remember that spirits reflect: solas reflected mythal's benevolence, and mythal reflected his wisdom. they need to reflect to maintain their sense of who they are: it is not just about his love for mythal, but his way of retaining his sense of who he is, by prolonging the memory of that reflection even as she grew away from him.

the 'away from mindless worship and well-meant misunderstanding' is really fucking interesting too. it's a memory of a moment where mythal could forget her role of the charismatic all-mother, who was loved and adored by her children, and where solas could ignore the no doubt frequent insinuations from others that his devotion was romantic. it was a way for them to connect in a way where they could just be true to who they were and how they felt about each other: like branches of the same tree, like family. of course, this was before he rebelled, before mythal betrayed him by joining the evanuris--although how long before is questionable since they're only sharing glances at this point. it's kind of sad, too; it reads like he's already having to do so much to get barely anything in return from this person who is meant to be his family.

it also puts a lot of things into perspective about solas's feelings on the modern elves in dai. that feeling of kinship, the twinning he felt with mythal and felassan and no doubt other elvhen and spirits, is so precious to him. he doesn't want to share it with anyone in this terrible, broken world he created, as if to share it with them would somehow taint it. it's only by the end of dai and into datv that he sees he was wrong, that the elves may have forgotten their history, but they are of the same family: different branches on the same tree.

when he says to a romanced lavellan, you are unique, i have never found a spirit such as yours, you have a rare and marvellous spirit, etc. he's also saying that he hasn't felt this sense of kinship for a long time, that he didn't expect to bond with someone from this broken world in the way he did. it's a different bond to the one he had with mythal, too, because he says he never thought he would find someone who would draw his attention from the fade and by extension, his longing to be a spirit once again--something he constantly tried to get mythal to agree with him on and failed. with lavellan, for the first time, he actually wants someone in this overwhelmingly physical and romantic way--something spirits don't feel, apparently. cole doesn't get with maryden unless you make him more human, and he also says he doesn't feel any attraction as a spirit. solas is actually glad to be a person and not just a spirit, because it means he's actually able to experience romantic love and desire for the very first time (as the romance description in datv heavily suggests). what's more, despite his misgivings, he likes it.

as others have pointed out, lavellan's speech in datv is in hallelujah cadence like the dialogue with the other elvhen. the duet is being sung once again--in a different context, but no less meaningful. there's a song by bjork called stonemilker, where she sings: 'a juxtaposition in fate/find our mutual coordinates'. it really reminds me of this; the need emotional synchronicity, of being completely on someone's wavelength, understood totally, seeing wholly and being wholly seen.

[treatbuckywkisses]

hello I am HERE :))

Still as alert as ever, the looming threat of danger is never something that will leave him; but he no longer needs to worry about being unsure of himself in this small bit of his routine. The cart appears right in front of him quicker than he expected, his walk seeming all too short when you’re not there to enjoy it with. - the subtle shift you've given him to be alert without being afraid is so so so so so personal to me

Everything seems to remind him of you. Lovely and nothing short of exquisite. It would be sinful if Bucky didn’t buy these– you’re deserving of something almost as telling of your effervescent glory. - I'm sick over this I'm going to think about this paragraph for DAYS

There was never a defining title placed on it, but hell if he’d let that stop him from claiming something so necessary for once in his damn life.  - this is so mushy :(( HIS GIRL im sick

Bucky could already die a happy man from the overwhelming thought of you, grabbing for the bouquet with the most precious of hands, smiling down at the soft peach petals then up at him with those eyes– like he just handed you the damn keys to every castle in the world. - this part is oh so soft to me and that is so very precious 

But you weren’t. And how was he meant to explain to a person he had no interest in revealing any part of himself to that his angel was the very strength powering the flow of the waters of the earth; the very life twinkling, lighting the night sky?– That reducing her to a “pretty special beauty”, while undeniably true for every commoner to see, was the closest thing Bucky could think to being an insult? -, paired with No. You don’t understand– she’s not… she isn’t a pretty special beauty. That’s lazy. Words can’t describe what it’s like lookin’ at her, bein’ near her. Bein’ looked at and loved by someone so divine. She’s not… there’s no preparin’ yourself for her. She is beauty. - is CRIMINAL YOU MAKE ME SICK HOW COULD YOU WRITE SOMETHING SO SOFT AND MAKE ME LIVE WITH THIS I am unwell and it's all your fault 

Maybe, his girl and all the violent thoughts he has surrounding her– how she’s the embodiment of radiance, the very definition of the most torrential depths of beauty– is just enough for Bucky. And he plans to worship the feeling of knowing your beauty for the rest of his days. - why are you doing this to me he is perfect :( 

His hand drifts up your side, caressing the figure he reveres as nothing less than shattering to capture your face. Bucky’s certain he’ll faint from the thrill of feeling you, from the need to keep tasting you– drifting, spinning, floating. It warms you both from the inside out, numbing the sound of the outside world and replacing it with the pulse of need rushing through your veins. It’s so good– forever needing more, more, more him.  - oh my God I need to be adored this way I'm so speechless this is literally just so perfect the ideal love :( mir 

Your writing is something so deeply personal and special to me I hope you always know that<3 you write so beautifully vivid and clear. The way you write bucky (especially in love) is so unmatched, nobody is doing it like you baby!!!!!! This is so mushy and soft absolutely the kind of love we deserve! Thank you so much for sharing this with me 🫶🏻❣️

I was just re-reading you deserve a soft epilogue, my love and this popped up on my pinterest home page:

https://pin.it/1gHYpch

and I thought if Bucky was roaming the farmers market by himself, these looked like the type of arrangement he’d get for you when he stumbled across them 🥰🌹🌸🌷🌻🌼💐 and if it’s in the beginning he’d be all shy giving them to you.

in layman's terms

beefy bucky x f!reader (you deserve a soft epilogue, my love AU)

warnings: slight angst, entirely too much fluff

wc: 2k!

a/n: this is the first thing i've written in months. i'm feeling a lot of emotions, i really thought i'd never share something on here again– but i'm thankful my brain let me think on the sweetest boy for a brief moment in time. and a special thank you to my Col for always encouraging me and being the best cheerleader ever <3

𝐢 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬����𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤. 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢

The uneven cobblestone streets seem just a bit more solid under Bucky’s heavy boots.

Walking swiftly through the once frightening streets of Bucharest, his careful gait grounds him steady along the known trek, and the low bun laced with your hair tie bounces against his neck as an annoying reminder of the heat– just a couple more errands and he’ll be home with you. A few loose tendrils tickle his skin as his feet briskly carry him towards a cart he remembers you stealing glances at, several times, during your countless walks together.

The smell of honey and loaves of fresh bread swirl by him as he strides past more meaningless produce and knickknacks alike, pondering why you’ve never asked to grab a quick bite and stop to actually admire the flowers now directly in his line of sight.

The crowding of somewhat blurry and familiar faces doesn’t seem to bother him the way it used to– no reason to cause him to cower, to keep his head down with the threat of being seen.

Bucky has you to turn to, to encourage him when he needs reminding of who he is. He has you to go home to. He never imagined walking so weightlessly.

Still as alert as ever, the looming threat of danger is never something that will leave him; but he no longer needs to worry about being unsure of himself in this small bit of his routine. The cart appears right in front of him quicker than he expected, his walk seeming all too short when you’re not there to enjoy it with.

The sun beats down on him with a cool breeze, kinder than it’s been in a very long time– maybe, that’s why a faint smile has been stretched across his lips since he left his apartment. Maybe, that’s why he doesn’t pay any mind to the kids playing a rough game of tag or the loud arguing of the people just behind him. He feels a calm kindness meant for him; Bucky breathes along with it.

The breeze follows his content steps and at the prospect of one of your “secret” joys– one where he finds himself alone and able to indulge in his own selfish desire of loving you–, the flowers and stems you always gleam at, bustling with their vibrant hues of corals and luxurious creams, immediately caught his eye.

The blush of the petals reminds him of the sound of your honeyed laugh; the ghostly whites nestled between an almost neon green array of garnish indulge him with the fuzzy feeling of melting inside your sweet embrace.

Everything seems to remind him of you. Lovely and nothing short of exquisite. It would be sinful if Bucky didn’t buy these– you’re deserving of something almost as telling of your effervescent glory.

Even now, walking alone, the small walkways between seas of overbearing people and bruised fruit now sound of only delicate fingers held tightly in his; of soft whispers nestled just behind his ear only for him to hear; of those hidden kisses teasing at his neck, crashing against the life of his pulse.

Bucky reaches for the arrangement without a doubt in his mind.

“And who might these be for?” the smirk rests playfully in the florist’s brown eyes before Bucky even notices someone standing right there, watching him. It wasn’t meant to be patronizing, but embarrassment and something naggingly familiar floods his chest. The sudden swell is all too warm and somehow, anxieties of being questioned by an unknown person aside, it’s welcomed.

Almost as if he was a 14-year-old boy again. Almost as if he felt his ma’s voice taunting him while she stood over the stove, stirring his favorite afterschool soup in her dented pot and prodding him about the crush she heard him and Steve giggling about.

“My girl. Uh, well my gir– she…”

Girl? His girl?

Did he really say that out loud?

But that wasn’t what had Bucky’s brain diving headfirst 100 miles per minute into the depths of his chest trying to revive the unrelenting muscle.

No, it wasn’t girl. It was the two-letter guarantor of possession sitting right before it.

My.

What were you? Surely, he was yours– wholly and completely.

But what were you?

Looking at the delicate velvet petals brush against his glove– a lot of things, Bucky realizes.

Sunrise and sunset. Understanding. Fresh air. Relief. The bundle of pale petaled softness tucked safely within his black leather gloves. An angel. His angel– his girl.

There was never a defining title placed on it, but hell if he’d let that stop him from claiming something so necessary for once in his damn life.

“They remind me of my girl. And she’ll love ‘em.” His confidence hardly surprises him– these flowers reek of you. How you lay nestled against him at 3 in the morning under cream sheets with the pale white of the moon dusting the tops of your cheekbones, your hands tracing shapes along the scars of his back. How your eyes crinkle looking right at him and that calming, gentle sound that fills the air as you tell him all about your dreams, your fears, your joys.

Bucky could already die a happy man from the overwhelming thought of you, grabbing for the bouquet with the most precious of hands, smiling down at the soft peach petals then up at him with those eyes– like he just handed you the damn keys to every castle in the world.

“Must be a pretty special beauty then, huh?”

Bucky could feel the boyish pink flooding his stubbled cheeks, out of his control and entirely too revealing. And for once, his flustered state doesn’t deter him from looking an intrusive stranger in the eye.

Maybe if you were there with him, that blinding light and stunning glow that seemed to follow you and infiltrate every last molecule of the very air he breathed, he’d find his words.

You’d be there, looking up at him while he stumbled through the sludge of muddled thoughts and feelings, gracious fingers stroking soothingly at the nape of his neck as he laid his heart out for you and only you.

But you weren’t. And how was he meant to explain to a person he had no interest in revealing any part of himself to that his angel was the very strength powering the flow of the waters of the earth; the very life twinkling, lighting the night sky?– That reducing her to a “pretty special beauty”, while undeniably true for every commoner to see, was the closest thing Bucky could think to being an insult?

With a quiet sniffle and a shake of his head, Bucky’s tearful smile told the kind stranger all he couldn’t seem to articulate with words.

No. You don’t understand– she’s not… she isn’t a pretty special beauty. That’s lazy. Words can’t describe what it’s like lookin’ at her, bein’ near her. Bein’ looked at and loved by someone so divine. She’s not… there’s no preparin’ yourself for her. She is beauty.

His ma would be out of her mind with emotions– Bucky knows now, looking into the knowing eyes of this stranger. It’s all she ever wanted for him.

The florist only smiles, handing Bucky the perfectly paper-wrapped bundle with a quick “It’s on me, hope she enjoys them.”

His walk home has an extra incentive of speed in his step. The colors of garments people wear blend together in a frantic flurry with the elements of nature around him, everything a blur but the ingrained compass guiding him home– the promise of his girl waiting there for him.

Milling over every possible way he can present these flowers to you, the most pathetic attempt at showing you a fraction of the way you plague his every breath– there’s no right way to hand these to you.

No. Bucky wishes he could piece together his thoughts eloquently enough to offer his love in the way he so desperately wants to. If he could place his words as well as he’s learned to with his emotions…. Maybe, between the distant scribbles of things he quickly jots down as fleeting memories of a distant time, Bucky could find himself writing the words this beauty of his has gifted him.

Feeling.

Bucky’s no poet, not much of a talker, either. But you make him feel things with the clarity of crystal glass.

Delicate, fragile, sparkling things. Maybe, feeling is just enough.

Maybe, his girl and all the violent thoughts he has surrounding her– how she’s the embodiment of radiance, the very definition of the most torrential depths of beauty– is just enough for Bucky. And he plans to worship the feeling of knowing your beauty for the rest of his days.

The gods above only know the tenderness your soul has granted him. The understanding that there’s more to life than pain; finding that self-healing he’s been able to strive towards with your patient encouragement.

Bucky has no more time to think about how he’ll offer these to you. You open the door the second you hear his hurried and frantic stomps bypassing the elevator, rushing the many flights of stairs 4 steps at a time.

“Bucky what’s–”

“I love you,” never have words been so easy, so heavy and at home in his chest. He exhales them so certainly, hoarse and breathless forming so perfectly between the pink plump of his lips. “I’m so in love with you. And I saw these and needed you to have ‘em.”

He never gets the chance to bashfully feel the weight of actions, doesn’t get to admire the love swimming in your eyes, the tears threatening to spill with that gaze you know there’s no controlling when it comes to him– you rush forward, capturing his lips in a kiss that nearly launches his anxious heart straight into the sanctuary of your palms. Breath escapes him for more reasons than one, melting under your honest passion and the need to have him– to love him as he is. His metal arm latches around your waist, pulling you as close as you can get while standing in his small doorway trying to protect a bouquet of flowers from being crushed.

His hand drifts up your side, caressing the figure he reveres as nothing less than shattering to capture your face. Bucky’s certain he’ll faint from the thrill of feeling you, from the need to keep tasting you– drifting, spinning, floating. It warms you both from the inside out, numbing the sound of the outside world and replacing it with the pulse of need rushing through your veins. It’s so good– forever needing more, more, more him.

How is it never enough?

Cradling his world between his fist, Bucky tilts your head, his restless lips hungrily breathing in you despite the fact you’re both dizzy, on the verge of collapsing and only still standing because of the other. His gloved-metal thumb swipes away the few tears that have fallen, brushing tender strokes into the high point of your cheek.

Soft moans rumble low in his chest, rising and rising to plead for more– the need to always feel your soft lips move so desperately against his, warm tongues claiming the unbridled desire to never stop– he’ll tell you he loves you with every breath he breathes, or the ones only you could steal from him so sweetly.

When you reluctantly break away his lips move to chase yours, and the red flush staining his flustered love-dazed face is enough to make you cling tighter to the back of his neck, pulling him back down to press kiss after kiss over his shy, boyishly babbling face.

“Bucky… they’re absolutely beautiful, baby.” Oh, he knows. He knows all too well– and the breathless way your voice calls for him, those eyes rendering him the most helpless-in-love man of all time– well. He’s an earnest devotee of this fate.

“You’re the beauty in life, angel.”

💐

[briefhottubcoffee]

30 Day SxF Challege

Day 7:

Best moment for you?

Ughh I’m going to be lame again and post my top three and an honorable mention! Sorry! I can’t help it, they’re all great! 😊

One:

When Yor falls asleep on Twilight and he carries his family back to the ship. He’s annoyed at first but he sure gets over it fast.

Two:

When Twilight comes home from the Yuri/Wheeler disaster, all beat up, worried Yor is going to be mad at him, but she welcomes him home like an angel and seeing her happy face, he relaxes and collapses. That’s LOVE people!

(Oh! And the subsequent shower scene 😇 Cuz it’s further proof that he’s feelings things and he knows it and it’s frightening him… no other reason I enjoy it)

Three:

When he snaps at that asshole during the interview and almost punches him for making his daughter cry. It’s insane. The interview is so important to the mission and he almost ruins it. Because the guy made Anya cry.

I noticed all these moments revolve around Twilight and his little slips, all the times he’s been real and had real affection for his family. It’s these special moments that remind me how much he’s feeling and changing. And we will only get more as the series goes on.

Honorable mention for all the little sighs and smiles he gives his family. They are just so precious. So I have to include them 🥰

[stxrslutrestored]

GOSSIP GIRL 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

new to the upper east side? not sure how it works round here? don’t you worry, I have you covered. sit back and put on your reading glasses while you become introduced to some of our very own gossip girl regulars 𐙚 enjoy!

gossip sweetheart, at first glance, and second, she’s the nicest girl on the upper east side, kind and well mannered, well educated and seemingly well seasoned (within her world at least). she’s the perfect amount of sheltered and innocent, but don’t let that fool you, she can get what she wants when she wants it. 

to be on her bad side is what some might consider social suicide. because to have sweetheart mad at you, you have to have done something. 

those who know her personally will get to know a much sillier girl, one who jumps easily and then plays it off like nothing. who makes stupid pop culture jokes and gets herself in shenanigans to no end.  

sarah cameron fits into her lifestyle perfectly. much like sweetheart, she’s the perfect girl for the upper east side, making the second half of the it girl duo that we love so much. sarah is classy when she needs to be, yet on the more informal side, we at gossip girl know that she has some other, less precious tendencies. 

sarah cameron is a party girl, known to be in the clubs with a new man every night. for a girl with such a good reputation, sarah cameron certainly has a dark side outside the bubble wrap of upper east side life. 

kiara carrera is somewhat of an outlier in the upper east side, instead of embracing her status and her riches, kiara chooses to live a more simple life, avoiding rich events at all costs. she spends her time hanging in brooklyn with those less fortunate than her. her money goes towards what she sees as good causes. 

this modern day rebel does what she wants when she wants. she indulges in her interest and lets be honest, she doesn’t care one bit what anyone has to say about her, or that’s what it seems like at least.

rafe cameron, the most infamous boy in the upper east side. nobody really knows what goes on inside rafe cameron’s mind,but everyone knows that he is really quite crazy. rafe is often caught in quickly covered scandals. drugs, violence, sex, you name it, if there’s something abominable going on in the upper east side, he’s involved. 

despite all his scandals, rafe still seems to make a life for himself. even after dropping out of college he lives comfortably on the upper east side, wielding his charm like a weapon to get whatever he wants. some say he’s set to inherit the cameron business and all its assets, but how well will that work out in the end? 

topper thornton, typical boy of the upper east side, facing no troubles or woes in his life. topper is laid back without a care in the world. some might say that it’s a sad existence to care for nothing but money, but topper disagrees, his life is easy, getting all he wants without lifting a finger, materials, rights, girls even. but will toppers life one day come crashing down when he really grows up and learns the harsh realities of adulthood. 

kelce rylan is yet another typical rich boy. always spotted with topper thornton, he has much of the same attitude towards life. kelce does whatever he wants and then pays as much as he can to cover it. to the naked eye he is just a regular guy, to gossip girl, we know there’s more to him. as one of rafe cameron’s minions, there’s nothing you can put past him.

jj maybank a total mystery, its common knowledge that jj lives in brooklyn with a deadbeat dad, and that he couldn’t care less about anything to do with the upper east side life. so how is this boy at constance? that’s a secret not even I can tell you. 

jj is constance academy’s resident bad boy, hanging on to his place in the school by a thread it seems. with a constantly scuffled uniform and a generally intoxicated demeanor, jj maybank still manages to carry a certain charm, and it does make him somewhat of a ladies man. 

pope heyward the star student. at constance on a scholarship by some sweet miracle, his one priority is to make it to an Ivy league and finish his education with straight A’s.

a sweet boy, a kind boy. pope heyward is the perfect gentleman. he spends his free time helping out at the family cafe, a staple for the brooklyn gang.

whilst pope heywards life seems simple, it will most likely become apparent that one little push will be enough to send everything crashing down

john b routlege, brookyns heartthrob. high status enough for constance, but not for anything else. rumour has it his father found a lost city of gold and became rich, not many believe it. a lottery win seems more likely.

john b is hard working, determined, loving and caring, the perfect boy to many. as he hangs out with the other brooklyn boys and only just scrapes by at constance, he makes the perfect other half to our very own JJ maybank

barry rodriguez, the local dealer in simple terms. nobody really knows who he is or where he comes from, but they do know he gets the good stuff. barry supplies the entire upper east side, he’s particularly well known to be around rafe cameron, whatever kind of deal they have, nobody really knows.

now you know what the upper east side is about, who everyone is and how it works.

and who am I? that’s one secret I’ll never tell. xoxo, gossip girl

[burningembers91]

Family Unit - Park Gyeong-Seok x Fem!Reader

Follow up piece to:

Loving You From Afar The Shape of You

Synopsis: You and Park Gyeong-Seok decide to take the next step in your relationship

You could feel Na-Yeon’s gaze on you, could hear her quietly giggling as she stood by your side of the bed. You sleepily opened one eye, then the other, smiling as you saw her waiting for you to wake up. The Disney Princess pyjamas you’d bought her were baggy on her thin little frame, but she looked so cute in them. “Good morning,” you whispered, pulling back the duvet so she could crawl into bed next to you. This had become your new morning routine; Na-Yeon would wake you up at the crack of dawn, you’d snuggle in bed, try to get a few more minutes of sleep, and then you’d get up and get ready for the day. On the days you didn’t work, you usually took Na-Yeon into her room to play, to give Gyeong-Seok space to sleep. He was a light sleeper though, and always heard you get up. sometimes he’d pretend to stay asleep though, just to give you and his daughter more time to bond.

You hadn’t left his apartment since the night you discovered the drawings. For six blissful weeks, you’d spent every day and night here, only returning home to fetch a new bagful of clothes or to do a load of laundry. You’d go to work during the day, while he stayed home with Na-Yeon. In the evening, he would head off to teach his night class (which he could now proudly say was a permanent job), and you would look after Na-Yeon. You didn’t get to spend much time together, your catch ups usually consisting of soft, sleep-hazed sex when Gyeong-Seok returned from work, followed by some whispered conversation before you fell asleep. Every moment you had together was precious, and you cherished every second.

You laid in bed with your eyes closed, listening as Na-Yeon chatted away. She never ran out of things to say, laughing and giggling. You weren’t always entirely sure what she was talking about, but it always made you smile.

Gyeong-Seok stirred next to you, yawning loudly as his arm came round to scoop you and his daughter into a hug. He loved his new family; and for the first time in years, he felt lighter than air. Na-Yeon was still sick, but he didn’t have to deal with the burden alone anymore. You’d slotted in so perfectly, treating his daughter like your own. Nothing was too much for you, and Gyeong-Seok didn’t think he’d ever be able to repay you for your kindness. You were still sleeping on the broken sofa bed, the springs digging into your backs each night. If you were uncomfortable, you never complained. His first paycheck from his new job would be arriving soon. Na-Yeon’s treatment would again take up most of the money he earned, but he was desperate to get a more comfortable bed for you to sleep on. He’d thought about asking you to move in permanently, to see if you could get a place together so you could have a proper bedroom, like a proper couple. He hated having to sneak around his own living room like a teenager, having whispered conversations with you so you didn’t take his daughter. He worried it was too soon though; life was so perfect at the moment, and he didn’t want to ruin it by moving too quickly.

The three of you lay there bed together, you and Gyeong-Seok listening to Na-Yeon babble away. His arms pulled you in closer, his lips pressing a tender kiss on your earlobe. He wished he could freeze time, wished he could bottle this moment and keep it forever. But you’d need to get up soon to get ready for work, and his daughter would need her breakfast.

“I need to do some laundry tonight,” you said, after you’d showered and gotten ready for work. “I’ll take Na-Yeon back to mine tonight, maybe get us a pizza as a little treat.” Gyeong-Seok looked at you over the rim of his coffee mug, eyes alight as he took in your silk shirt and burgundy pencil skirt. It still utterly baffled him that you loved him; that a poor, scruffy painter could be lucky enough to find someone like you. “I hate having to constantly go back and forth,” you sighed, taking a seat next to him at the kitchen table. “I’ve been thinking actually…” You smiled slyly, pulling something from your bag. “This place has just come up, in the same building we’re in now. It’s a 2-bed place, and it even has a small balcony. I was thinking, if we put our money together, we could just about afford it.”

You sat waiting for his answer, chewing the inside of your cheek nervously as you watched him look over the apartment. You knew it was hasty, but you’d never been more sure of anything in your life. Your little family unit needed a bigger place to grow. The apartment overlooked the playground, and you already knew you’d be out there with Na-Yeon each day. Money would be tight, but you’d make it work, and once Na-Yeon was better things would be easier. “I really like it,” he smiled, “are you sure you want to do this?” He didn’t want you to feel like you had to move in with him, like you had to somehow make life easier for him. “Of course I want to,” you smiled, leaning forward for a kiss. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

Later that day, Gyeong-Seok arranged a viewing, and two weeks later you had the keys. The first thing he did was throw away the old sofa bed, before proudly placing the bed from your apartment in your new room together. You finally had your own space, somewhere where you could be a proper couple. As the three of you sat down for dinner that night, surrounded by moving boxes and bubble wrap, Gyeong-Seok was sure he’d never been happier.

[gorgeys]

foragers ★ jackie taylor x fem!reader

you force jackie to go foraging with you and she decides to make the most out of your alone time

warnings: SMUT - dry humping, knee thing, biting, making out word count: 1400

"so...what are we doing out here again?" jackie groans from behind you, mindlessly following you deeper into the woods.

you sigh out of frustration, your eyes still fixed to the ground, looking for plants that might be edible.  you had explained this to her about a hundred times already.

"we're foraging," you say pointedly, crouching down to take a closer look at a random plant.

"oh, we're foraging," jackie mocks, raising her hands in faux surrender though your attention isn't anywhere near her.  "my bad," she says with a teasing laugh.

"can you be serious, for like, two seconds, jackie?" you ask, peeking over your shoulder at her. your face is the picture of irritation.

"um, no," she says, reaching down and tucking your hair behind your ear.  her hand affectionately holds the back of your neck.  "what's the point of this anyway?  we've been out here for hours and barely found anything."

her thumb soothingly strokes your skin, and you can't deny that it makes you feel a little more at ease.

"it doesn't matter.  we just need to put in the effort and show that we're contributing in some way," you say.

to jackie, sounds are coming out of your mouth, but she's more focused on the way your lips seem to move in slow-motion and the precious way you look up at her through fluttering eyelashes.

"the longer we're stuck here, the crazier everyone's gonna get.  we need to make sure we have some sort of role to play so no one has a reason to..."

"to what?  get rid of us?  kill us?  i think you're starting to go a little crazy," jackie says with that carefree smile of hers.

"yeah, maybe," you say, standing up to meet jackie face-to-face.  her hand still lingers on the back of your neck.  "but foraging is easy enough."

you weakly smile at her, but she can see the stress written between your brows.  you've been on edge since the plane crash, always worrying about something.  even though you tried your best to hide it, jackie could tell.

"why don't you just relax a little, huh?" she says, both her hands now finding your neck.  they trail downward, softly tracing over your collarbone, then your shoulders, then your sides.  there's an unmistakable excitement in her eyes.

"jackie," you warn, just before she grabs your hips and pulls you into her, eliciting a soft grunt from the back of your throat.  it only motivates her more.

"lemme help you relax," she says with a lopsided grin.

her hips push into yours as she turns you slightly and guides you backwards.  after nearly stumbling over a fallen branch, your back hits a tree trunk with a thump.

without another thought, jackie's lips attack your neck.  her lips eagerly kiss and suck on your fragile skin, leaving trails of saliva in their wake.  she felt you like this in weeks, so she's more desperate and sloppy than usual.  she wants to consume as much of you as she can, as quickly as you'll let her.

"jackie, someone could see," you say, sounding whinier than you intended, your hands tangling in her bouncy hair like second nature.

"we've been walking for hours, no one's out here," she reassures you, her rapsy voice barely above a whisper.  her fingers start to creep under your shirt, a cool contrast to your warm skin.   "besides, i haven't had you like this in forever," she groans.

she suddenly bites down on the column of your throat, causing you to hiss in response.

"jackie!"  her name leaves your lips, something between a reprimand and a moan, as you throw your head back against the tree.  "marks?"  it had always been something you guys were careful of back home.

"you're so whiny," she mumbles, and you can feel her smiling into your neck.  she loves it.  "forget about everyone else.  you can tell 'em we got attacked by a deer or something."

she bites down in a different spot, and you're about to protest, but her knee finds its way in between your legs and the words die in your throat.  jackie notices and looks up from your neck.  she can see the worries starting to fall from your face, replaced by pleasure.

jackie's hands find your bare back just above your waist.  she pulls you into her while slowly grinding her knee against the crotch of your jeans.  pride immediately washes over her as your mouth falls open and each breath becomes heavier than the last.

"that feels good, doesn't it?" she says, lips ghosting over yours.  she doesn't give you time to respond before she's repeating the same motion.

"mhm, feels good," you say, voice slightly higher pitch.  usually it would take a little more friction and a lot less layers to get you panting like this, but you've been so touch-starved since the crash that you're practically moaning every time jackie even grazes you.

your hands leave jackie's hair and grab her by the jacket to pull her into a needy kiss, tugging her so hard that one of her hands leaves your back to brace herself against the tree.  seeing you with a fistful of her varsity jacket drives her absolutely insane and you know it.  she sucks on your bottom lip hard enough to bruise and pushes her tongue into your mouth.

"jackie," you moan against her lips.  your hips are now working with her knee, trying to produce as much friction as possible.  "you're doing so good," you say, knowing she's a sucker for praise.

she feels herself throb in her cargo shorts, so hard that a quiet moan sneaks past her lips.

"fuck, i missed you," she curses, hand moving up your back under your shirt.  "wanna make you cum so bad."

you whimper at her words, starting to rut yourself against her leg even faster than before.  jackie helps you by pressing her knee even harder into your clothed cunt.  she feels like she's on fire watching how desperate you are to reach your release.  how desperate you are for her to help you get there.

"shit, m'gonna," you warn her after an embarrassingly short amount of time.  your grip tightens on her jacket.

"let go for me," she says, holding your face in her hand so that you can't run from her eye contact.  "please," she begs.  "i need it."  that does it.

"oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, don't stop," you moan, hips bucking into her knee one last time before you're arching and cumming in your panties.

she keeps grinding her knee into you, face beaming with satisfaction as she watches that familiar expression find your face.  she couldn't get enough of it, no matter how many times the two of you had done this.  her ego would be unbearable for the rest of the day knowing she was the one who made you feel like this.

only when you came down from your high did jackie stop.  before she could say anything, you found her lips in a long, gentler kiss.  when you pulled away, her eyes were still squeezed shut and her lips were attempting to follow yours.  you couldn't help but smile: she was just too cute.

once her eyes opened, she looked back at you with so much adoration.

"how was that?" she asked, slightly out of breath, though she already knew the answer.

"i needed that," you say, hand coming up to cradle her face.  she leaned into your touch.  "i missed you too."

she looks absolutely giddy to hear you say that, so much so that she leans in and gives your lips a quick peck.

"wasn't that so much better than looking for berries or whatever?" she asks, hands holding your waist.

"yeah, but we need to find something before we go back so we can at least pretend that we were productive," you say, thumb caressing her cheek.

"hey!  i considered that very productive, actually," she says with that smug, suggestive smirk of hers.

"i don't know if they will, though.  especially when they see these," you say, gesturing to your neck where a few bruises are beginning to form.

"sorry, i got excited," she shrugs, though she doesn't look very sorry.  nevertheless, she leans down and places a kiss on each bruise.  "you're too cute not to eat."

"yeah, yeah," you smile, playfully pushing her off of you.  "you can apologize by finding us some berries before sundown.  preferably ones that won't kill us."

[tqlepatia]

hear me out…you should totally make a bot with princess reader but they given to ambessa as a peace treaty :3

─ trades for peace. ( user ! princess )

She had already drained your kingdom and people dry, worse than any leech, but she still wanted more. More than gold, pearls, money, or power—something everyone told her couldn't be bought. Love.

But she wasn't about to bow to something as trivial as that. No, she wanted to watch your parents, the rulers of your kingdom, suffer. She wanted to take the one thing they held most precious.

So why not aim for the famous and untouchable Princess {{user}}?

For your part, your relationship with your parents was already rocky. They'd always wanted a prince to inherit the throne, never shying away from rubbing that disappointment in your face. So, it wasn’t much of a surprise when they jumped at the chance to seal a peace treaty with the Medardas by handing you over.

You were told late at night that they’d be coming to take you in the morning. You spent the whole night stewing, convinced this was just another attempt to "fix" your sexuality.

Let's just say you were more than shocked when morning came, and standing outside your castle was a woman—older than you, poised, and dangerous. You froze as your ladies-in-waiting awkwardly loaded your bags into her carriage.

"Hello, Your Highness," she said with a sly smirk, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I suppose you're mine now, right?"

[yanderejustforyou]

Oh The Hurt

Peter Parker x Reader

You never asked for this. You didn’t ask for the love that coursed through your veins like molten lava, fierce and all-consuming. You didn’t ask for Peter Parker, the boy with the soft smile and eyes that seemed to carry the weight of a thousand unsaid words, to be the one to make your heart ache in ways you never thought possible.

But here you were.

You had always known that loving him would be a kind of torment—like dancing on the edge of a razor blade, feeling the cold metal graze your skin every time you took a step. His secrets were buried deep within him, a wall he built high and strong, and you knew that one day, that wall would break. And when it did, it would bring both of you to your knees.

You didn’t need to know all the details. You didn’t need to understand the full scope of his responsibilities as Spider-Man. But you did. You understood that every moment you spent with him was precious because it was fleeting. It was borrowed time, given to you in stolen seconds between the chaos and the danger that followed him wherever he went.

And every time he left, every time he disappeared into the night, part of you died a little more.

You hadn’t meant for it to come to this, for the relationship to unravel in the way it did. But love, for all its beauty, often burns the brightest right before it fades.

It started small. A quiet distance, a hesitance in his touch, the way his eyes would dart away from yours as if he couldn’t bear to look too long. You told yourself it was nothing—just the weight of his dual life, the mask he wore in both his worlds. But deep down, you knew the truth.

Peter was slipping away, and you couldn’t stop it.

The first time you saw him with her, your heart shattered.

You had caught a glimpse of them together, her laughing as Peter touched her arm, his fingers lingering far too long. It was nothing—nothing more than a harmless moment between friends, or so you convinced yourself. But then you saw the way he looked at her, the way his smile seemed to shine a little brighter, and that was when the walls you had built around yourself started to crumble.

You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t move. Your world tilted on its axis, and for the first time in your life, you realized you were losing him.

The confrontation came after a night spent pretending everything was fine, pretending you hadn’t seen the way his eyes had softened when she spoke to him. You could feel the weight of your emotions pressing down on you, suffocating you. It had to be said. You couldn’t keep living in this silence.

“Peter,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you stood in front of him. “Please… don’t do this.”

He looked at you, and you could see it—the guilt, the sorrow, the part of him that knew this was wrong. But it was already too late. He had already crossed the line. There was no going back.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, as if the words themselves would wound both of you.

“You’re already hurting me,” you shot back, your chest tight with pain. “I see it in your eyes. You’ve already chosen.”

His face twisted, and for a moment, you saw the boy you loved—the one who would do anything to make things right. But even that wasn’t enough. His shoulders slumped as if the weight of his choices had finally crushed him.

“I didn’t mean to…” Peter trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

“You didn’t mean to,” you repeated, your voice raw with a bitterness you had never known. “But it doesn’t change the fact that you’re choosing her. You’re choosing someone else.”

He reached out to you, his hand trembling as it hovered near your arm, but you took a step back, the sting of his touch a reminder of the distance that had already formed between you. A touch you couldn’t bring yourself to feel, not when the reality of it all was too much to bear.

“I can’t…” he whispered, his voice thick with unshed tears. “I don’t know how to choose.”

You didn’t know how to respond. How could you? You had spent so long pretending that maybe, just maybe, there was hope for you both. But the truth was, Peter had always been torn. Torn between the man he had been and the hero he had to be. Torn between the love he had for you and the guilt that would never leave him. And in the end, it wasn’t you he would choose.

The night stretched on, an endless black void that swallowed you whole. Every step you took, every thought you had, led back to him. To Peter. To the way he had looked at her, the way he had touched her, the way his heart seemed to beat for someone else.

And yet, even as the tears burned your eyes, even as your chest threatened to collapse under the weight of the ache, there was something inside you that couldn’t let him go. You hated him for it. You hated him for choosing her. But more than that, you hated yourself for not being able to hate him. You still loved him. Even as he tore you apart, piece by piece, you still loved him.

And that was the cruelest part.

You hadn’t expected him to show up at your door that night. You hadn’t expected him to come crawling back after everything had already fallen apart. But there he was, standing on your doorstep with the same haunted look in his eyes, the same broken boy who had once made you believe in something greater.

“Please…” he whispered, voice cracking. “Please let me fix this. I can’t stand the thought of losing you. Please, I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

Your heart twisted, and for a moment, you thought you might break in his arms. You could feel the weight of everything he was saying, the desperate plea in his eyes. But no matter how badly you wanted to believe him, you couldn’t. You couldn’t because you knew that it was already too late. The damage had been done. And in the end, love wasn’t enough to save either of you.

You stepped back, shaking your head, and before you could say the words, the tears had already begun to fall.

“I can’t do this anymore, Peter,” you whispered, your voice trembling with every syllable. “I can’t keep waiting for you to choose me. I can’t keep pretending like everything will be okay when it never will be.”

His hand shot out, reaching for you, but you were already too far gone.

“I love you,” he pleaded, his voice barely a whisper now, like a prayer. “I love you so much. I never wanted to hurt you.”

But you could see it—the truth in his eyes, the lies wrapped in his promises. The love he had for you had never been enough to make him choose you. Not truly. Not when the world needed Spider-Man more than it needed Peter Parker.

And that was where it ended.

You closed the door quietly, your heart cracking in a thousand places, and you let the silence swallow you whole.

There was no happy ending. No redemption. No moment where Peter would choose you over everything else. He would always be torn between the man he was and the hero the world demanded him to be. And no matter how much you loved him, no matter how badly you wished for a different outcome, it would never be enough.

Some loves were doomed from the start, and you both had always known it.

Days passed, though they felt like an eternity. Each moment dragged on, every breath you took heavy with the suffocating weight of your decision. There was no closure. There was no peace. You had tried to erase him from your life, to let the wound heal, but his absence only made the pain more unbearable.

You walked through the days in a haze, numb to everything around you. The world had become a blur of colors and sounds, but none of it mattered. You couldn’t focus. You couldn’t think. All you could do was replay that night over and over in your mind—the look in his eyes when you closed the door on him, the rawness in his voice as he whispered that he loved you, and the way his hand had trembled as it reached for you, only to fall short.

You hated him for what he had done, for making you feel like you weren’t enough. But you hated yourself more for still loving him. Even after everything. Even after the way he had chosen her, even after the way he had torn you apart.

The nights were the hardest.

It wasn’t just the silence. It wasn’t just the emptiness that seemed to seep into every corner of your life. It was the memories. The way he used to laugh, the way he would pull you close and kiss you like the world could end at any moment, like the love you shared was the one thing that would keep it from falling apart. Those moments replayed in your mind with painful clarity.

You could still feel him, his warmth, the softness of his touch, the way his voice would soothe your fears. And it was those memories that hurt the most because they reminded you of what you had lost.

And then, just as you thought you might crumble under the weight of it all, he came to you again.

The knock on your door was soft but unmistakable. Your heart skipped a beat, and a familiar coldness crawled up your spine. You didn’t want to see him. Not like this. Not after everything. And yet, you couldn’t stop yourself from opening the door.

There he was, standing on your doorstep, eyes haunted and bloodshot, like he hadn’t slept in days. His clothes were wrinkled, his hair disheveled, and there was an almost palpable desperation clinging to him.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Peter said, his voice breaking, sounding so fragile that it made your chest ache. He took a step forward, but you instinctively stepped back, the distance between you both a painful reminder of everything that had transpired.

"Why?" You couldn't help the bitterness in your voice. "Why now, Peter? After everything? Why come back when you've already broken me?"

His face contorted with pain, his hand reaching out toward you, but you flinched, the rawness of your emotions surfacing all at once.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I’m so sorry. I know I hurt you. I know I screwed up. I can’t undo it, but I need you to understand something. I... I can’t live with the thought of losing you. I thought I could handle it. I thought I could do this alone, but I was wrong. I need you, and I’ll never forgive myself for how I hurt you.”

Your heart hammered painfully in your chest, each word tearing through you like a fresh wound. You wanted to scream, to push him away, but the truth was, you couldn’t. Not entirely. Because despite the pain he had caused, despite the deep wound he had left in your soul, you still loved him. And you hated yourself for it.

“I can’t keep doing this, Peter,” you whispered, the tears finally spilling over. “I can’t keep waiting for you to choose me. I can’t keep being your second choice, your backup, your convenience. I deserve more than that.”

His face crumpled as he stepped closer, his hand finally brushing against your arm. It felt like fire. You recoiled instinctively, the warmth of his touch searing through you, burning you in ways that felt too familiar. You wanted it, and yet, you didn’t. You couldn’t. Because every touch, every word, every glance from him was a reminder that this wasn’t love—not anymore. It was an illusion, a broken version of something that had once been real.

“I’m so sorry,” Peter said again, his voice thick with emotion. “I never meant to hurt you like this. I don’t know how to fix what I’ve done, but I can’t keep pretending that this—” He gestured between the two of you, his eyes full of guilt and longing, "—isn’t what I want. It’s always been you. Always."

You swallowed hard, stepping back again, your chest tight, your breath ragged.

“No,” you choked out, shaking your head. “No, Peter. It’s not enough anymore. You can’t just come back when it’s convenient for you. You can’t just waltz in and expect everything to be okay. You’ve already chosen her. And I can’t—I can’t keep being the person you come to when it’s easier. I won’t let you destroy me anymore.”

Peter flinched as if your words physically struck him. You saw the hurt flash in his eyes, but there was also something else. Something darker, more painful than you’d ever seen before: regret. And it was almost unbearable to watch. Because in that moment, you realized that no matter how much you loved him, no matter how deeply he cared for you, you would always be the one to suffer.

This—this broken, painful thing between you two—would never heal. You both had tried to pretend it would, tried to hold on to the pieces, but the cracks had already run too deep. You could both feel it, the inevitable unraveling of a love that was never meant to be.

And so, with one last, lingering look, Peter turned to leave. You didn’t stop him. You couldn’t. The weight of everything you had gone through together, and everything you had lost, was too much. The air felt thick with sorrow, suffocating, and as he walked away from you for the final time, you felt the fire inside you flicker and die.

You tried to move on. You tried to walk away, to let the pieces of your broken heart fall where they may, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t escape him. Every part of you still ached for him, still wanted him. But the truth was, there was no way out of this. There was no way to make it right. You had both tried to hold on, to make it work, but love was never enough. Not when the world was constantly pulling him away from you.

And as the days turned into weeks, you realized—some things were just never meant to be.

[graciedollie]

Maybe that thing that vibrates, with Grayson, with the scenario of the reader is trying something new. 🤗

Or because i just like seeing characters being sub, Reader is trying it with Grayson. 😼🙏 do your magic!

Precious Petals

Pair: Grayson x Fem!Reader

Summary: It was just a peaceful session of love making between you and your adoring wife, basking in each others touches. It feel like such a precious moment as it always been, until she decided to add a little surprise.

Warning(s): fingering (😛), Modern AU, sex toys (vibrator wand🎀), Grayson is pretty sweet and gentle and that’s pretty much it

A/N: hope this request was for your liking anon <3 (this lowkey might be a bit short)

The moon hung high in the sky, casting a soft, shadowy gaze over the beautiful buildings. It was a peaceful night. You and your wife were finished with your usual work, thankfully, and now settled into your lovely home. You were in the kitchen, cleaning up and just making sure everything was fine while Grayson was in the bathroom, taking her shower.

The lights were dimmed low and soft music played in the air, causing you to be at utter peace and humming lowly along the tunes that filled your ears. It was a graceful night and you truly felt a peace—how much better could this beautiful night get?

You soon put away the dishes, wiped the countertops, and swept the floors as you were getting ready to wind down for the night. After finishing up, you turned off the music and blew out the candles before making you way down the hall to your lovely bedroom. Your ears picked up the sound of the shower turning off, signaling that your wife would soon be out of the shower.

You slipped into your silky sheets as you grabbed your favorite book and started to read, reading to yourself in contentment. The bathroom door opened with steam flowing, revealing your wife dressed in her usual attire for bed.

Your eyes flickered up from your book as sighed while walking around the room to do whatever, adoring how pretty she looked—even just walking around and you were utterly smitten for her. Her eyes caught you staring, turning to face you with a soft smile as she spoke with that same raspy, low voice you loved so much.

“What’s with the look, honey?”

Her words snapped you out your daze, chuckling at her observation before gesturing her over to the bed, which she didn’t reject as she slipped into bed besides you—wrapping her warm arm around your body with one of her hands resting on your thigh. “Nothin’. Can’t a girl adore her gorgeous wife?”

She couldn’t help, but chuckle at your words—finding your choice of words endearing. It always been so sweet whenever you would compliment or just stare at her with those love-dovey puppy dog eyes of yours, never getting enough. “Never said that, love.”

You smile at her sweetly, leaning over to caress her cheek gently before pulling her into a soft, gentle peck—which slowly turned into a passionate, heated kiss while rubbing your thigh gently.

The kiss soon became hungry and more desperate, feeling both of your breathing quickly pick up as you started to kiss her more hungrily before she swiftly pulled you to her lap—running her large, warm hands up your thighs slowly. Everything around you felt suffocating before quickly pulling away to lean your head to suckle and nip at her neck—earning a grunt from her.

“Need me badly, hm?”

You knew she always took care of you—very good care.

Oh how she such good care of her precious girl—such good care, which is why she was knuckles deep in your cunt while your back was pressed against her chest. Your head was forced to stare at the mirror with her firm, but gentle grip on your chin—occasionally rubbing the skin for your cheek while whispering sweet nothings, along the lines of;

“How’s that, baby?”

“Look at you, taking it so well for me, hm?”

“Keep lookin’ for me, sweetie—that’s it.”

“See how you’re suckin’ me in?”

“Feels good, honey? I know, I know—no, keep your legs open, baby.”

You felt like you were in paradise. The way her thick fingers pumped in and out of you with a steady pace, thumb rubbing firm, slow circles over your aching clit—earning such pretty moans and gasps. It felt like such a reward to hear your pretty little noises—it was all for her.

Your eyes struggling to keep focus on her through the mirror, fluttering continuously as your thighs trembled with each thrust of her fingers hitting that sweet spot repeatedly—causing her chin to leave your chin and grip your thighs further apart.

“You’re so pretty like this…love you so much..” Her words were husky and sweet, placing open-mouthed kiss to your jawline and neck while gradually picking up the pac rod her fingers. Your thighs jerked at the increased pace, clamping your thighs around her fingers as a wantonly whimper escape your lips—earning a disapproving hum from her.

“C’mon, love…legs open for me, it’ll feel so much better—there we go, doin’ so good for me…”

Her words were the final thing that had finally pushed you over that peak, causing your body to tense before your thighs trembled and stomach flexed with crashing of your orgasm coming down like a wave with moans and whimpers freely leaving your mouth. She slowed her fingers down just a bit before stopping all together and pulling them out—leaving them drenched.

“Did so good for me, love..” She trailed off while kissing your neck and up to your lips, hushing your whimpers and whines before you finally calmed down enough to speak.

“I…wanted to try something..”

“Oh really?”

This should be fun.

And fun it was.

You were sprawled out on your back, looking between your thighs excitedly while Grayson held the vibrating wand in her hand—slowly trailing it up and down your thigh while pulling you to a searing kiss. The moment felt so intimate and passion, just as every moment you two had went and you loved it. The way your lips worked in tandem with hers before fully slipping your tongue into hers—tasting a hint of mint and tea.

Her hand, that wasn’t occupied, crept to your jaw and held it firmly in her grasp as you both continued to practically tongue-fuck (???) each other desperately while her other hand trailed the vibrator up your thigh until landing on your soaked folds—moving in a up and down motion gradually.

“Grayson…” You couldn’t help the whine that slipped from your lips, bucking your hips to the vibrations slowly as your stomach flexed—feeling the euphoric vibrations flowing freely in your body. She pulled from the kiss to pepper soft kisses to your jaw and neck while she tipped the wand up—placing it directly on your clit, earning a whine.

“I know…just feel, baby..” She murmured lowly while moving the wand in slow circles over your clit continuously, even when your thighs began to shudder and tremble. Your hips bucked and twitched as the pressure became intense, causing your moans and whines to become louder and shaky—feeling yourself nearing that sweet edge.

She pressed the vibrator more firmly against your clit as she pulled away from your neck, moving her free hand from your chin to thigh to hold the trembling muscle apart. Your whimpers and vibrations of the toy filled the room, along with Grayson’s husky voice praising you ever so sweetly.

It didn’t take long until the band in your stomach tightened, grasping her wrist tightly as you thighs trembled madly—moaning and whining as it became too much, but if it really was, you would’ve used the safe word by now. “Oh, I know, sweetheart…just let it happen, i’m right here..”

Your eyes fluttered as they struggle to stay locked in hers, feeling your body tense up gradually and thighs full-on trembling as your body was completely buzzing with overcrowding pleasure. “Too much…please..”

“No, it’s not, honey…you’ve got it—here, hold my hand.” You quickly took her hand and tightly, feeling your body seize up before the intense orgasm crashed over you, but this one was downright intense. Your head fell back against the pillows with a loud cry, bucking and rolling your hips as you could feel the warmth deep from your cunt—practically squirting over her and the sheets.

You were definitely going to bring using this more.

hope you liked this loves <3

[thiccpersonality]

5 Times Bruce Was Protective of His Pups (+2 Times They Were Protective of Him)

3: The Search

Not many people recall their childhoods (for the most part), let alone what happens in it, nor would anyone expect a child to so easily remember things from their lives as they are in the process of living it...but, Timothy Jackson Drake isn't just any person or child. That's what his mother says at least, or...that was something she said to him in the days that her and father paid him any mind. Nowadays Tim finds it difficult to get their attention if he isn't being useful to them in some way, and even then...

Anyway! Tim just wishes he knew what exactly he did wrong and where he messed their relationship up.

He wants to go back to the days where his mom held him in her arms and cooed to him about how precious he is to her. He desires to receive fond looks from his dad in the way he used to when he was three and running around their home.

Now.

Now Tim is stuck on his own and spiraling on what to do.

Things the neglect started to happen slowly: his mom or dad sending him off whenever he tried to get their attention while working, their personal time together slowly being replaced by toys and trinkets that he was excited to get at the time because they were a symbol of his parents love for him, his parents hiring more babysitters for him instead of finding time to just simply...be with him. Which is why Tim has started to chase off every and any caretaker that comes to his parents million dollar home. Every expensive toy and gadget spent on him is now thrown violently against the walls or floors in a desperate plea for attention, it's all he wants, it's all he's asking for...and that's not much, is it? 

"Timothy, please just-"

The nanny grunts in pain as she's hit harshly in the nose by a six year old Tim, the boy disregarding any guilt or shame he has for taking his anger out on the caregivers, most of them are good people...he just needs to use them to get his parents attention again. The woman steps back in shock, raising a hand to feel her nose and wincing at the blood she feels dripping from it, that's it! She can't take this anymore; taking care of such an unruly pup. She's tried her best for a couple months now to be patient with him, the boy obviously has issues with his parents, but she can't put her health on the line anymore.

Tim screeches loudly while watching the beta leave, calming down enough to listen in on his parents as they realize another babysitter is being chased off. "Dana, where are you going? We need you to watch him for the week, we have a business trip, remember?" The pup clenches his small hands into his shirt as he pokes his head around the corner with a sniffle, blue eyes watching as his dad attempts to chase the beta down, one hundred dollar bills clasped within his hand as he waves them in Dana's face. "We'll raise your pay! It's not an issue for us, you know-"

Dana keeps her hand pressed to her nose, her eyes narrowing accusingly at Jack and Janet Drake as she turns to stare at them.

"I know you can't keep an eye on your own kid for two fucking seconds! Your kid has problems, okay? And I've tried to be patient, but I can't anymore! Just spend some time with him, that's all he wants." Dana hisses at her ex-employers while tugging on her jacket angrily, the glare softening up a bit as she catches a peek of Tim curiously looking over the corner towards his parents, "Goodbye Tim."

Janet reaches for the woman in a last ditch attempt to keep her in place, her mouth opening wide in shock as the beta slams the door in her face loudly. "Jack, what are we supposed to do!? We have a business meeting to go to! We can't watch after our mutt." Tim perks up as he's gestured at, wiping the tears from his eyes as he steps out from the corner and skips towards his parents almost giddily, tugging at his dad's suit pants. "Daddy-"

"I'm sure we can find someone last minute? Or he can stay home by himself...he seems like a capable young man."

Tim pouts as his dad speaks over him, but the fact his mom and dad are even talking about him is...everything and more to him. The boy stands a little taller as his mom looks at him, it's not the looks he remembers receiving from her, but at least it's something. "Capable? He...looks like he's a bit chubby, doesn't he? Have our nanny's been over feeding him? I don't think I remember him ever being this fat, they must have let him get into the snacks."

Janet pinches at her son's face experimentally, her eyebrows furrowing in worry. "Will him being over fed have an effect on his presentation?"

Jack Drake rolls his eyes at his wife's worrying, looking at his watch hurriedly. "If he's an omega, shouldn't we want him to be plump? Alphas enjoy breeding one's with meat on their bones...I think." Janet curls her lips in disgust, "Don't even say that about Timothy! We don't want him to be an omega, they are weak and useless, I've seen it with my own mother how good-for-nothing omegas are. He'll be an alpha." 

Tim has no idea what his parents are talking about, but the way his mom tugs him protectively to her side causes him to trill happily.

"But if he were an omega, imagine how useful he could be to us and our business-" Jack pauses to give his wife time to process what he said, smiling victoriously at her curious look-"If he looks good enough and smells pleasing enough, he could help to sway any potential business partners into making deals with us. Imagine the cards we hold by letting them think they'll get a hold of our son." Janet looks away in thought before glancing down at Tim, "What good would that be to us? The one business partner we want to work with us not only is an omega himself, but takes his job seriously...now that he has a pup of his own at least. It's not like he'd be willing to sleep around anymore, and we don't even know if he's ever slept around with other omegas anyway."

Tim smiles up at his mom and pushes into the hand in his hair almost desperately, purring softly at the attention.

"It could all be lies, Janet. Bruce Wayne is easy, gives it up for just about anyone from what I've heard, I bet when Tim reaches a certain age, he'll at least think about it. And with Bruce's kind of influence and sway on people, do you not think he covers up his sex-capades." Jack looks out the window at the honking outside, checking his watch one last time with a sigh, "Our ride is here. It seems like we have to take Timothy with us this time...there's no time for a babysitter."

Janet frowns displeased, pushing her pup ahead of her with a groan. "It seems you'll be traveling with mother and father, Timothy."

————°————

Tim practically vibrates excitedly in his seat as he peers down his window at the earth below, things look so small from up here, but it's also very pretty. The pup chirps happily and turns towards his parents excitedly, ready to tell them how amazing flying is and how he's just happy they're paying attention to him again, but his shoulders slump pitifully when seeing his mom talking on the phone with someone, papers strewn about her table as she fuses with whoever is on the other line. His eyes look over hopefully towards his dad instead, only to cloud over with disappointment as the man clacks away on his computer. "Mommy-"

The beta shushes him harshly, narrowing her eyes disapprovingly at him for interrupting her phone call while making frantic gestures towards her husband, a motion that tells Tim to: 'go bother your father instead and leave me to my work.' Those are words that the boy is used to hearing on a daily basis, so, with a huff he turns toward his dad. "Daddy?"

The male beta doesn't respond, too engrossed in his work to hear his pup or pay attention to the boy hopping out of his chair and making his way slowly over to him. "Daddy?"

Tim blinks optimistically up at his dad, hoping that now because he's closer to the man, the other will finally notice his presence and at least glance his way. But, the older only continues to type away on his device, causing the boy to feel jealous over the keyboard and how it gets his father's touch, his stomach churning at the reminder that his mother's phone gets to hear her voice constantly, how she always seems to hold it in her hands as if it's her most treasured thing.

Tim sniffles and tries to hold back his tears, he remembers his mom telling him she dislikes children that act as babies and his dad reminding him that young men don't cry.

But...it's just so hard not to. All Tim wants is to be his dad's son again, desires to be his mom's little boy-he glares at the devices his parents are using enviously, is that the issue? He isn't being useful enough to his parents in the way that the devices are? Has he become too lazy and comfortable with his parents affection that he's started slacking off on his duties? He doesn't know what caused him to have this reaction-no, this outburst-but Tim snatches his father's computer from under his quick fingers, throwing it violently against the wall of the jet with an outraged cry, ignoring his father's surprised shout in favor of targeting his mother's phone next, his gaze fixed on the metal with hate as he charges towards her with a scream. 

Janet's eyes widen, her hands fumbling for the mute button before lifting it away from her child, trying to push the boy away while making sure she hasn't hung up.

"Gimme...the...phone!"

Tim crawls over his mom, tears dripping down his face as his distressed scent escapes him, too focused on his present task to bother covering up his feelings as his parents have instructed him to. He grunts as he's held back and even pushed slightly by the beta, her tone clipped, "Tim Drake! Cut it out, now! You better not make me hang up-" Janet gasps in shock as a small hand slaps her cheek, her and the pup freezing in place as if they both are trying to process what just happened.

After a few seconds of silence, Tim whines loudly while tugging his mom forward by her suit jacket and snatching the phone from her hands in her state of shock, tossing it behind him and pressing closely to her chest in apology for putting his hands on her.

Janet seems to snap out of it when her phone is taken away from her, still too stunned in the moment to bother doing anything about it and just watching as it smacks loudly against one of the other tables. Her pup's souring scent causes her nose to sting in displeasure from the stench, her lips curling in disgust. "Timothy Jackson Drake." The pup tenses at the woman's eerily calm voice, a small cry escaping him as her hands tighten painfully on the nape of his neck while tugging him away from the warmth and comfort of her breasts, the tears falling harder as his only source of affection and love is taken away from him.

"You are a bad pup. Very bad."

Janet's tone takes on a rough timbre, a sound that's only used on pups when they particularly misbehave and won't listen to their parents, usually used as a last resort to command the pup into doing whatever it is you are asking them to do or not do...usually for their benefit when the child doesn't listen to any regular scolding.

But Tim doesn't understand it.

He can see her being upset over being hit and wanting to correct him on it...but doesn't she see the reason why he did it? It wasn't meant to hurt her or anything, he just...wants his mom and dad. And the only time they seem to pay attention to him is if he lashes out this way, he thought this is how he was supposed to get time with them. "M-Mommy-" he gets cut off by his own whining at the painful sting to his neck glands, his mother's nails digging into the sensitive flesh meanly. "M-Mommy-" Janet mocks-"Don't whine! You know I don't like the whining and the sniffling, Timothy. You know you don't put your hands on others, especially your parents."

Does he know that?

It's not as if Janet and Jack are around to teach him those things. If anything, it was his nanny that always told him that.

Tim opens up his mouth, planning on defending and explaining himself to his mother as to why he felt the need to do what he did. It's not that he meant to interrupt their business, but that they only seem to look his way when he acts out and chases off a nanny or gets in-between their work, that any other way proves useless if it's not him being disruptive to the company. It seems though that he won't be able to plead his case, because he can't even get a word out his throat, noises seem to be getting harder to make now as he's held in place by his mother. 

Is he even breathing?

Janet shakes Tim out of his thoughts with a deep frown on her face, "You better hope that my phone isn't broken or else you are in even more trouble." She stands up abruptly, not concerned about her pup's body twitching in pain as he's dangling midair by his neck, his face growing pink as his airways are slowly cutoff. "You need to be put in time out. You can't continue to act like this, do you hear me? Time is money and money is time, yet you seem to not understand that yet, Timothy." 

Tim looks to his dad for help, a bone chilling coldness spreading from the inside out at seeing the man is over near his computer, brows furrowed in genuine concern as he looks over the device, his hands brushing the screen carefully as he makes sure it still works.

The pup slumps in defeat as the realization of his circumstance sets in, feeling numb as his mom leads him to one of the smaller bathrooms on their private jet and harshly dumps him on the floor, not bothering to apologize for treating her own child so meanly as she says...something else to him, he can't really hear her over the blood rushing in his ears and the sound of his desperate gasps for air. Tim flinches as the door is slammed harshly in his face and something heavy pushed in front of it to keep him trapped inside, his eyes carefully observing the restroom before landing on the sinks lower cabinet and feeling the urge to crawl inside of it. 

And crawl he does.

Tim whimpers quietly to himself as he pushes the items in the cabinet out to make space for himself, curling into a small ball as he hugs himself tightly, ignoring the lingering scent of his angry mother that clings to his clothes as he closes his eyes to rest.

————°————

Blue eyes open in panic, glazed over in confusion at the plush feeling underneath him. Tim sits up in bed confused, his nose twitching as he scents the unfamiliar room, hope poking at his mind with the thought that everything that happened was actually just a bad dream, but the slight sting to his neck stamps on that hope and tells it otherwise. "Daddy? Mommy?" His voice is soft and scratchy as he calls out for them, allowing some anxiety to creep into his tone in the hopes that maybe their minds have changed, that maybe they will rush to his bedside with an apology on their tongues and regret in their gazes as they scoop him into their arms and promise that things will change from here on out.

Tim gives up on calling them after a couple of minutes, hot tears pricking at his eyes as he realizes that they left him, for the meeting they've been going on about most likely, but it still doesn't make the acceptance any easier to come to terms with. The pup sniffles and crawls out of bed, looking down at his clothes and feeling a sharp stab of pain in his chest at seeing himself still in his daywear. I guess he wasn't important enough to change clothes? He looks down at his feet and feels an odd sense of contentment seeing that his shows are gone at least...at least they care enough to take them off for him, right?

His stomach growling loudly interrupts the spiraling thoughts, the six year old biting his lip as he scrubs at his wet eyes. 

Tim slowly steps closer to the door, indecisive on whether to find food himself or not, making his decision to leave the room as his stomach growls again. The child exits the room and looks left and right carefully, perking up at seeing a small group of people heading left towards the elevators and following them, ignoring their curious looks as he pushes his way on with them. "Where's the cafeteria?"

The adults have already ignored him in favor of talking their business or vacation plans with each other, the pup sighing sadly at how he can't even get other grown-ups to pay attention. 

A light tap to his shoulder startles Tim, the small boy turning around and looking up into the friendly eyes of a teenager, the alpha smiling kindly down at him. "You said you were looking for the cafeteria, right?" Tim nods shyly and shifts from foot to foot. "Funny thing is that I was just heading down there! I can take you there if you want? Though, uhhh-" the young alpha glances at the distracted adults inquisitively-"are one of these folks your parents?" Tim doesn't know how to feel at the larger hand carefully wrapping around his own, his small fingers instinctively clenching down at the feeling of warmth as he shakes his head. "No. My parents said that they would...meet me in the cafeteria, that's what they said." The look the teen gives him causes the pup to look away in fear that he'll find out his lie, luckily enough, the older boy ends up smiling instead and guiding him out the elevator with a soft tug to his hand.

"That's alright! Do you mind if you eat with me and my family for today? We can keep an eye on ya while waiting for your parents to come get you."

Tim knows that he should say no...there are a million things wrong with this plan, one of them being that this young alpha and his family will realize his parents are never coming to get him because they already left. But, the way the older looks excitedly-even hopefully-down at him, causes Tim to slowly nod in agreement. "O-Okay? Are you sure they won't mind me intruding? Breakfast is a special occasion, isn't it?"

The alpha raises a brow and chuckles, something in his eyes sparkling in amusement as he says: "Trust me. My mom won't mind you at all, and neither will my grandpa. It's actually been awhile since either of them has had the company of a pup, so I think it will make their day." The older grows silent before slapping his head animatedly, "How could I be so rude? I forgot to introduce myself-" he leads Tim to the back of the line and looks down at the boy openly once they are in place-"The name's Richard Grayson, but everyone who's my friend calls me Dick, nice to meet ya." Tim messes with his shirt nervously and nods politely, "Timothy Drake. But you can call me Tim for short."

Richard smiles brightly when the younger gives him a cute, lopsided smile, handing the boy a plate when they get closer to the food. "Drake? Do you mean you're the son of Jack and Janet Drake? That's pretty cool, Tim, I bet you guys have lots of fun together? They seem to take their work very seriously, so I can only imagine how they take family life. What do you want?"

Tim doesn't know what to focus on first, all the questions were asked extremely quickly and in quick succession, barely giving the pup time to think of a response. But it's fine...he doesn't even know how he would respond to them, he doesn't exactly have fun with his parents, and he knows that he can't just outright tell the older boy that his parents ignore him. "Uh...w-whatever they have up there is fine with me." And he means that too, it's been awhile since he's tasted anything really delicious, the only time he eats properly is if a nanny of his actually cooked-and to be honest-it was usually a hit or miss situation with the caretakers, especially since not all of them were properly looked into.

Sometimes Tim got caretakers that forgot about him just liked his parents do.

Richard hums thoughtfully before dumping a pile of bacon, eggs and fruit on the child's dish, the pup's protests being ignored with the loud exclamation of, "growing pups need to eat!" 

Tim pouts and allows the alpha to do as he pleases, looking over the cafeteria and perking up at seeing a coffee machine, his small hands tugging at Richard's sweatpants hurriedly. "I wanna drink some of that! It tastes good." At the pup's insistence, the teen looks to where the boy is pointing, scrunching his nose in displeasure at the drink he's pointing at. "Decaf coffee? You must not have tasted any real coffee before, you need to drink it caffeinated in order to enjoy it properly."

Tim tilts his head in confusion, frowning as the older waves his free hand frantically. "Not that you should be drinking coffee yet! I'm a mature almost adult, thank you, so please don't let my mom know that I was supportive of you drinking it."

His...mom?

"Your mommy? Where is your mommy?" The pup turns his head in search of the teens parent, grunting softly as he's finally handed his overfilled plate. 

"He's somewhere at one of those tables, or maybe not? He might have gotten a private area depending on it-people always trying to speak to him during resting hours, you know?" Richard dumps a healthy amount of food into his plate, snagging a small box of cheap breakfast cereal the hotel surprisingly has in his hand, salivating at the thought of the heavily processed food on his tongue. "Come on, little guy, right this way." A gentle hand sets itself on Tim's head as it guides him around the tables, the walk seeming not to stop until they reach a set of French doors, the alpha sticking his tongue out in concentration as he lifts his foot to the door handle and presses it down to open it.

Tim looks up at the older one more time, his eyes apprehensive and curious as to if him being here is actually okay, reassured as the teen just chuckles and nudges him forward with a small tap to his calf. 

The pup shuffles forward with his plate held in both hands, his nose twitching at the sweet-but not overly sweet-scent that fills the room. This isn't from any of the food, that much Tim knows, nothing in the cafeteria smelled this delicious, this...right, no, this is the smell of an omega. "Whoever is out there...please, go away and at least wait until I'm done eating to ask me questions or make business deals. I-" Tim freezes in place as the prettiest pair of blue eyes turn to look at him, the stern look immediately being replaced with a soft look of pleasant surprise. "Oh!? I'm sorry, pup. Are you okay? Are you lost?"

Tim opens and closes his mouth, unsure of what to say as he flounders for a proper response.

"He's not lost, B!" Richard chirrups excitedly, pushing Tim forward a little more as if he's a cat that caught a gift for its owner and is eager to present it. "I found him in the elevator! He was heading my way-which was to the cafeteria-and I decided he could eat with us since he said he's waiting for his parents."

The omega knows he should ask his son what 'finding him' means, and if the pup's parents even know that he's here with them, but the sight of this small boy holding a plate that looks too big and heavy for his hands causes him to soften. His eyes glistening fondly at the physical signs of the boy's nervousness as he shifts from foot to foot, his gaze being drawn to the socked feet as the small appendage pushes down his rising pant leg. "Pup, where are your shoes? You came down here without any shoes on? Did no one dress you up before bringing you to eat?"

The omega's voice is probing, but not void of any kindness, the man gesturing him forward with an outstretched palm as he finally takes notice of the mountain of food sitting on the boy's plate.

"Richard, why did you give him so much food? Poor thing can barely carry it."

Tim blinks in shock as the omega stands up and helps him carry his plate, pulling out the chair next to him and helping the small boy climb into it, a pleased noise escaping him as he looks at the contents of the plate. "You have fruit? You gave him fruit, Dickybird?"

The teen chuckles and sits next to Alfred, nodding his head and puffing out his chest in pride. "Yup! You always told me growing up that growing pups need food and lots of rest, and I knew if you didn't see any fruits or veggies on his plate that you'd be mad at me for not thinking of his health." Bruce gives a small smile at his son before turning his attention back onto the pup, "I'm glad you could join us for breakfast today, don't worry about not eating everything on your plate, okay? I'm Bruce Wayne, can I ask your name?"

Tim blinks in shock at the name, why does it sound so familiar? The pup continues to stare up at the omega, his little brows scrunching in thought before lifting in surprise, no wonder the name sounds so familiar, Bruce Wayne is the omega his parents were talking about back at home.

Tim shakes himself out of his thoughts, licking his lips nervously before stretching out his hand to shake. "Timothy Drake...but y-you can call me Tim." Maybe it's the neglect skewing his perception of Bruce? Maybe it's the affectionate look the omega is giving to him? Heck, maybe it's the soft and gentle hands carefully shaking his own that make Tim think that maybe he's not so bad. Whatever the reason is, the pup feels something warm nudging at his heart, slowly replacing that lonely feeling with something...familiar? Yes, familiar. The more he looks at those icy eyes sparkling with care and love for a pup that's not even his, it reminds Tim of the way his mommy used to stare at him once upon a time.

Bruce's humored-but gentle-voice wraps around Tim's ears like a warm hug, gently pushing through the insecurities and doubts that have built up within him with the confidence of a man who knows his power, who knows that he doesn't need to use much force to get his way but just needs to simply speak and others listen.

That's how Tim feels as those doubtful inner voices bow out to let Bruce through.

"Oh? And you're a little gentleman too?" Bruce tries not to look too amused at the stupefied look the pup gives him, he can tell that the boy is being serious. "And did you say Drake? You mean like Drake Industries? Your parents have been really persistent in trying to get me to work with them."

A sudden thought pops into Tim's mind; what if he introduces his parents to Bruce for them? So far the omega seems to like him...so what if he's more open to making a deal with his mom and dad? What if...what if him doing this for them makes them notice him again? Things will go back to the way they used to be: his mom cuddling with him in bed as she plays with his hair and tells him stories, his dad chasing him around the house and ruffling his hair fondly whenever he does something good, both his parents tucking him in goodnight and tickling him when he keeps trying to get out of bed and follow them.

Maybe if he proves to them that he's useful to the business, they'll realize that he's also good enough to be their son.

With a renewed determination, Tim chirps happily and finally releases Bruce's hand while leaning forward eagerly. "But my mommy and daddy are reeeeeally good people! They talk about you lots and all the things your companies could do together if you ever gave them a chance-" maybe that's not exactly true? He's heard his parents say some not so nice things about the omega before out of anger, but he doesn't need to know that-"They are just determined and ready to expand the growth of their business to help others!"

Bruce's eyes widen at Tim's sudden enthusiasm, his lips twitching up at the boy's determination. "I know that, Tim...but I am very careful on who exactly I conduct my business with. That and my secretary schedule's meetings based off the most important to the-" he pauses at the look of defeat on the boy's face, purring softly to comfort the pup-"Look, Tim, it isn't that your family or their business isn't important. That's not what I'm trying to convey to you, but, your mother and father's business-let alone-their names are fairly new to the world of business. I admit that they have done a lot of work recently to put their names out there, and I have been looking into the work they do." At Tim's disbelieving stare, Bruce smiles reassuringly and nods his head at the boy. "It's true, I have. I just haven't contacted them yet because I was still looking into them to make sure they are worth meeting with, but I have to say pup, you make a convincing argument on your parents behalf. You'll be a businessman in no time."

The genuine praise does something to Tim, the pup squeaking happily as he looks at the omega in awe, quickly turning back to his food when the older man reminds him it's getting cold.

.

.

.

.

He doesn't know how long he spent time with Bruce...but somewhere deep inside of the pup, he doesn't want it to end.

Despite all of his desires to gain his parents love and attention, there's a little voice somewhere in Tim's brain that anxiously whispers about them never noticing him again for the stunt he pulled on the jet, about how there's nothing that he can do to ever be enough for his mom and dad. It's a voice that the pup has been fighting against ever since he's noticed this weird shift in his dynamic with the adults, I mean, he's not stupid and he has eyes that work just fine.

It's just...

He doesn't want to believe that part of him that knows the reality of his situation, that knows exactly how things have changed and even how there's no returning to old times

It's a truth that would be too hard for anyone to handle--but a six year old? Yeah, that would be even harder for a child to grasp that their parents don't love as they used to before...that maybe their parents never actually loved them that way, that it was all an act for cameras and company; that maybe they did love him that way, but only once and never again.

"I have to get going, Tim. Are your parents coming?"

Tim breathes in sharply at the question, schooling his features as much as he can before replying: "Hm? Oh, yeah! U-Umm...I...lied."

Bruce shares a quick look with his dad and son before turning back to the pup, "You lied? How? Are you-" Richard cuts the omega off, leaning in towards Tim eagerly, his eyes glistening with an intense delight that the boy has never seen before despite his voice sounding calm. "Do you not have parents? Did you sneak in?"

A harsh nudge from Alfred seems to sober the young alpha back down from his excitement.

"I mean, that's not what I meant to make it sound like, I'm sorry. I hope your parents are still alive, having dead parents really sucks-I'll stop putting my foot in my mouth and shut up now." 

Tim tilts his head curiously and turns back to Bruce, "My parents are still alive-" did someone just sigh-"I just meant that they aren't waiting for me...because...because I left the room without them knowing. They said that they were really tired after the flight here and-and fell to sleep as soon as they got to the room." The look the omega gives Tim is similar to the one Richard gave him in the elevator, something about it makes the boy feel as though they can see right through him, that they know he's lying. But, Bruce just nods with a small smile on his face, the look just as disarming as his alpha son's. "Alright, we'll take you back to your room then. I don't want you alone."

Tim bites his lip and-in a moment of desperation-rushes out of his seat to hug onto the omega tightly, burying his face into the soft material of his pants while fisting the man's sweatshirt in his fists.

The pup stiffens up in surprise at the feeling of arms wrapping around him before he melts against the omega's legs, unconsciously letting his scent release, too caught up in the moment to be concerned on the intense scent of desperation, want and relief mixed into his milky aroma. Tim sinks further into the warmth, scenting Bruce's neck when the omega kneels down to his level and nuzzles at him carefully, the scent of the other is soothing in a way that his mom's scent used to be...maybe even still is,  but the too quick change in their relationship has made the pup recoil at the scent, the relief of the beta's smell being replaced with trepidation as it always turns sour whenever he's around.

But Bruce...

Bruce's scent is pleasantly soft and sweet with a hint of spice: vanilla, a hint of rose, cinnamon and cardamom. It makes Tim want to stay wrapped up in his arms forever, he is giving the pup everything that he's been looking for in his parents back to him with one embrace. "Shh...it's okay, Tim." Soft hands wipe at the pup's face tenderly, the boy confused as to when he even started to cry, but the soothing rumble of Bruce's omegan call eases Tim's mind and only causes him to press closer to enjoy the gentle back rubbing the other is giving him. 

Bruce gives a look to Alfred over the child's shoulder before returning to comforting the pup.

.

.

.

.

"Timothy, what-" Jack Drake bursts through the French doors, his annoyed scent turning to one of surprise as he sees that the phone call he received wasn't a joke...Bruce Wayne actually called him and Janet. "Mr. Wayne! Is everything alright?" The beta swallows nervously under the omega's stern look, slowly stepping forward until he's close enough to bend down and grab his pup, shushing the boy as he whines and squirms. "We weren't even aware that Timothy left the room."

Bruce purses his lips and nods, "I'm well aware. I understand jet lag is rough on the body, but please, try to keep an eye on your pup."

Before Jack can even ask what he means, Tim's voice croaks in his ear. "I told Mr. Bruce that you and mommy fell to sleep after we landed, you two were tired after the flight and didn't notice me leave." Jack raises his brow but gives a small, almost imperceptible, smirk at the cover-up, the pup must have not wanted them to be in trouble for leaving him unattended in the hotel room. "O-Of course, Mr. Wayne, I'm so sorry for the inconvenience. Are you alright, pup? You aren't hurt, are you?" Tim pauses at the question, his little nose twitching in interest at the scent of concern his dad releases, a small feeling of hope rising within him as he slowly-cautiously-leans his head down to scent his dad, giggling softly when the man nuzzles him back. "D-Daddy!"

Jack smiles softly, his hands gently ruffling his pup's hair to comfort him while releasing his pleasantly mild scent.

"It's alright, son, I'm sorry for not paying more attention to you today, alright? Mr. Wayne...I apologize for any trouble-" Jack immediately closes his mouth at the omega lifting up his hand in a-stop-gesture, the beta's eyes widening at the business card the other slips out of his wallet and extends to him. 

"Your son has made a very convincing argument on you and Mrs. Drake's behalves today-" he smiles kindly at the pup-"He told me that you both work so hard to make the world a better place with your inventions and plans. You both always call my office at least twice a month to see if I've changed my mind, so I at least know you aren't quitters, expect a call from my secretary so she can book a date for us to talk. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Drake." Bruce nods politely at the beta and gestures for his family to follow him out, taking a second to look at Tim warmly with a small nod, "And it was a pleasure to talk to you, Tim. Goodbye."

Tim grips his dad's suit jacket at the sight of Bruce leaving, his inner pup calling out softly to the omega in goodbye, trying to ignore the sad feeling churning in his gut as the man disappears around the corner with his family.

Why is he even sad?

Isn't his dad's affection what he wished for?

Tim shakes his head and nuzzles his nose back into Jack's neck, humming contentedly as he isn't put down or pushed away, but hugged closer as his dad rushes out the room and towards the elevators, his foot tapping impatiently as he waits for the elevator to reach the main floor.

The next thing Tim knows is that he's back in the hotel room, the irritated scent of his mother causing him to bury his face further into his dad's neck. "Why are you babying him, Jack? Why were we even called-what? Why are you smiling at me like that?" The boy takes a chance to peak out from his hiding spot in his dad's neck, staring up at the pleased look his dad wears as he holds up Bruce Wayne's business card triumphantly. "I knew having a pup would come in handy! Look what Tim got for us!"

Janet narrows her eyes suspiciously at the card, growling softly at her husband's shaky hands and snatching the card from him so she can read it properly, her scent confused before bursting forth with excitement and shock. "Are you serious!? He-Bruce Wayne? He really ran into Bruce Wayne of all people?!"

Jack smiles wide; victoriously, lowering Tim down to the floor and shaking him off when the boy tries to cling to him. "I know right! I was right when saying that he'd take a liking to our pup, and can you believe that Timothy put in a good word for us? Bruce said that we should be expecting a call from his secretary sometime." Janet stares at the business card incredulously before chuckling and hugging her husband, catching Tim off guard as affection isn't something he really sees from his parents towards each other anymore, but...it feels good seeing his mom and dad jump up and down like two kids in a candy store, he is the cause of that.

Tim looks between his embracing parents in relief at seeing something familiar again, chirping excitedly as he squeezes between the two and grips onto their clothes, stamping down that small voice that tells him this moment won't last forever.

————°————

Tim doesn't know why he ever listened to that voice in his head? He doesn't know why he insisted on convincing himself that things between him and his parents would get better from there.

He was wrong.

He was so very wrong, that much he can admit. The doting and praise lasted the rest of that very day, but as soon as the next day hit, they went back to business-if anything, their obsession over meeting with Bruce Wayne became even worse after actually getting a phone number, everyday was spent looking at their phones twice as much and keeping their email open just in case Wayne Enterprises messaged them.

Now Tim is so much older and wiser. Even though he's only nine, he is sharp in a way he wasn't when he was six, or maybe it's that he's finally allowed himself to not be held back by his own obsession with his parents love?

The point is: he's finally allowed himself to grow beyond them.

Now he's focused on Batman, this enigmatic character that has risen above Gotham as its defender in the night, as the watchman in the shadows against the filth this city holds. 

Following Batman has been his favorite past time...that and following Bruce Wayne. He knows it's not...ideal to keep tabs on the omega so closely, but ever since that day at the hotel when the man wrapped him in his arms, it's been an experience on his mind everyday and every night since then. Tim has always desired to get close to the omega again...his parents definitely had enough meetings with the man for him to see him again, but every time he thought about it, he got scared of Bruce's opinion on him changing.

The unwanted thoughts always held him back: 'what if I'm not enough?' 'what if I'm not what he needs?' 'what if it was all an act? Your parents did it before, so why would he not with you?' But...Bruce has been his light at the end of the dark tunnel known as his life, the memory and phantom feelings of a warm hug being one of the only things to keep him from being crushed under the overwhelming weight of the loneliness clinging to his heart everyday, keeping him sane from the thoughts that poke and prod at his restless mind. 

Now Batman is another new obsession.

It's not everyday that you see a vigilante with a kid for a sidekick/partner. And the way that he's seen the man treat Robin makes Tim envious of the boy, why is it that a crime fighter gets a better caretaker in his life rather than Tim? Is he living his life in a way that is causing him to not be noticed or wanted by anyone?

Tim doesn't know what it is, but either way, he has been trying to get near Batman for awhile now.

Trying to get the man to notice him and take him in-he can be useful to him! If only he could just prove that to the Bat, surely the other would see what he's capable of and take him in without a doubt. I mean, the other hasn't had a problem doing that with two other pups, so why would it suddenly be an issue for him? Tim licks his lips anxiously, shifting from foot to foot in an old tell of how nervous he actually feels. The pup peeks over the corner, analyzing the rooftop he climbed onto in search of Batman and Robin, they should be arriving soon...he made sure he got the location right tonight, because tonight will be the night that he meets the supposed alpha, he won't settle for anything less any longer. 

From his years of careful research and learning Batman's patterns, he knows that this rooftop is a place he and Robin usually visit after every patrol-and unless there's another crime to rush to-there's no conceivable reason for the vigilante to skip coming here tonight.

.

.

.

.

Tim jumps awake at a, 'whoosh', sound coming from behind his hiding spot. The boy shaking himself awake and taking a deep breath before looking over to where he heard the noise, his lips lowering to a confused frown as he searches the rooftop for Batman.

"I don't think you should be up this high."

Tim squeaks in panic and turns around too quickly, tripping over his feet and falling onto his butt as he stares up at...Clark Kent? Blue eyes blink up in shock at the sight of the reporter in a Superman cosplay, looking the man up and down carefully, his eyes only widening as the mild mannered reporter floats above the ground.

Oh. My. Freaking. Gosh!

Clark Kent is Superman and Superman is Clark Kent. 

Tim gets lost in his thoughts, completely unaware of the alpha's growing concern the longer he keeps silent. It makes sense as to why he always thought the man looked familiar, at the time, he didn't really pay the familiar feeling any mind due to being obsessed focused on Bruce Wayne...but it turns out the feeling was because the "beta" is actually an alpha named Superman.

Metropolises most beloved hero is actually a bumbling reporter with a crush on Bruce Wayne. He wonders if Lois Lane knows yet.

Superman softly lands on the ground, extending his hand towards the pup slowly, as if he's trying not to scare a wild animal. "Hey, pup, are you alright? What are you doing up here? This building is really high, so I'd imagine you are pretty cold." It seems as if those words cause Tim to shiver, hm...I guess he was so distracted in his wait for Batman that he didn't process his own coldness. "Can I give you my cape? It'll keep you warm no matter what temperature." Those words bring out the little detective in Tim, he wants to ask so many questions about the material and even if Superman needs the cape himself because he can feel the cold, or if it's more so for any civilians he saves and needs to fly to somewhere safe.

But he can't...not now.

Tim only wants to be wrapped up in Batman's cape, in the exact same way that Robin is whenever he's around the man. "I don't need your cape, Superman. I'm just fine on my own, thanks."

The Kryptonian sighs at the horribly familiar words, his deep blue eyes looking Tim up and down curiously. "Don't tell me you are one of Batman's too? I...wouldn't imagine he'd leave you here alone and without warm clothes." Tim wipes the dirt off his clothes and hands, his interest only growing at the defeated look in the alpha's eyes, does-does he think that Tim isn't fit to be Batman's partner?

The boy growls as fiercely as he can, a small squeak escaping him in his attempts to be intimidating. "I'll have you know that while I'm not his partner yet, I have plenty of skills that will be beneficial to Batman!"

Superman steps back in shock, raising his hands in defeat and crooning at the distressed pup apologetically, the noise embarrassing Tim from how quickly he feels like nuzzling into the man. "Woah there, buddy? That's not what I meant, okay? And what do you mean by skills? You...you don't need to do anything to get the man to want you-" he looks away pitifully and murmurs-"not unless you're an alien from Krypton that is." Those words cause Tim to stop his growling, his look skeptical as he tilts his head, he thought that Superman was in love with Bruce not Batman?

"Wait...but I thought you liked B-"

A deep voice interrupts Tim's question, "Superman. I thought I told you to stop showing up here?" Both the alpha and pup startle at the vigilante's sudden appearance, the former smiling bashfully at the other while the latter gasps softly in awe. 

"I know you did...but I like seeing you, is that so bad?"

Robin steps out from underneath Batman's cape, his face displeased at the sight of the alpha. "I thought B also said he didn't want to see your ugly mug? Stay away from him, Superman." The pup is called back to the man's side, the boy humming contentedly at the gloved hands gently raking through his hair, "I didn't call him ugly, Robin. Though I did-" the alpha stops to scent the air, his gaze suddenly turning towards Tim and keeping him in place, a sharp inhale taken in as he notices the other pup's presence-"Oh!? I'm sorry, pup. I didn't see you there. Are you okay? Are you lost?"

That tone...it's oddly soothing-silky-in a way that only one other person's was before. But that person was Bruce Wayne...surely Batman actually isn't-

"Are you alright? Do you need medical attention?" Batman takes a cautious step forward with his hands raised, freezing in surprise at the pup's laughter. "It's you, it's you, it's you! It's really you! I've been searching night and day for you and you're here." Tim shakes with excitement, scrambling forward until he gets close enough to the Bat, he would've gotten closer, but Robin steps in-between the omega protectively.

"Are you high or something?" Robin-Jason-whimpers softly at the gentle slap he receives to his head. "What!? This kid's not makin' any sense."

Tim manages to stand tall despite the slightly aggressive smell the other pup is giving off, he's obviously in the process of developing his own scent as a much more mature one is mixing in with the milky smell of a pup. "I'm here to be Batman's partner! I promise that I can provide a lot of aid to your mission! I won't get in the way!" Robin releases himself from his defensive stance, snorting in disbelief while glancing up at his mom. "He's gotta be joking? What kind of freak show is this?"

Tim balls up his fists and shakes his head furiously, afraid that if he doesn't say something now, Batman will ignore him or turn him away.

"I'm not a freak! I'm being serious! D-Do you know how much time I've put into this?! Every night for three years I have been studying you all's patterns, learning your schedules and keeping tabs on where your next fight will be in the hopes of catching you guys."

Robin takes a step back from the outburst, his sharp look-that Tim can't see-being replaced with one of concern for the younger boy in front of him. "I-...you stalked us? Don't you have a family to go back to or something? Why waste your time doing this? And if you have been following us this whole time, why haven't you ever introduced yourself before?" The younger pup fists at his clothes, once again shifting from foot to foot nervously as he responds, "B-Because I wasn't ready yet. I had to make sure that when I met Batman that everything about me was...prepared."

Tim is unbothered by Robin cringing at the information, all he's focused on is Batman and what he thinks of him. So far so good, he thinks. The omega hasn't pulled away in disgust, neither has he yelled at him to go away, so that must count for something?

Batman gently moves Robin aside, kneeling to Tim's level and grabbing the small hands within his own, rubbing the knuckles repeatedly with his thumbs. "Puppy, I...appreciate your eagerness to help me on this mission, but it's a very hard mission, and-" Tim shuffles forward a little, moving his hand to Batman's cape and gripping it tightly in his hands. "B-But what about your two Robins? They got to fight crime from a young age despite everything, t-they got to help you, why can't I? I-please? I promise that I can do a lot of work. I won't complain or anything-please? I just want to be with you."

Batman does his very best to beat down his instincts to take Tim home, he would in a heartbeat...really, he would, but...

"Your parents, pup. I'm sure they'd be worried about you. So, I think you should head home-" Tim feels his heart stop as that familiar warmth departs from him, frozen in place as Batman pulls away and stands up, pushing the boy closer to the Kryptonian gently-"Superman, can you take him home?"

Tim has no words as he's carefully wrapped up in Superman's red cape, that bone chilling coldness he's adapted to over the years consuming him as he's slowly lifted into the alpha's arms, hot tears pouring down his face unwillingly as the distance between him and Bruce grow further and further apart. "No-" his voice is but a cracked whisper-"No! G-Get off me-Batman, please! I don't w-wanna go home!" Superman shouts as the pup starts squirming mid-air, the alpha trying to calm the pup down and only receiving small fangs to his arm for his efforts. "Get off! Batman! P-Please!"

Superman touches down onto the ground again, lowering himself to the floor gently with the trembling pup in his firm hold, gently shushing the boy as he falls limp.

"W-Why?"

Tim whimpers and digs the palm of his hands into his wet eyes, "W-Why don't y-you remember m-me?" The boy sniffles and chokes on his spit, his breathing picking up as he panics. "W-Why doesn't anyone remember m-me? I can be a g-good pup-" he looks up at Bruce, seeing beyond the mask, because that's who he first admired the most-"M-Mama."

Batman whimpers at the broken noise and rushes to Tim, knees slamming into the rooftop floor as he snatches the troubled pup to his chest, cooing to the boy in reassurance while sending a warning growl Superman's way.

How dare he try to separate him from his pup.

"Timothy Jackson Drake-my little Tim-I...I never forgot you, pup. I always thought about you since the day we met-you-I-" he takes a deep breath in to calm himself-"You reeked of sadness and I did my best to help, even in that short amount of time we knew each other. I had always hoped that your mother and father would bring you to our meetings...but I never saw you, and I know things in Gotham kept me busy, but I never forgot you once."

That icy feeling in his bones is replaced by a warmth at his full name being said by Bruce. He...really did remember him? It wasn't just an experience that Tim let get into his head too much?

"T-Then why?"

Tim sniffles, rubbing his dripping nose on the dark cape, "Why can't I join you? M-My parents won't care, I-I promise they won't!" Batman frowns at that information, tucking the boy under his chin and wrapping his cape around the small frame protectively. "Tim...where are your parents? Did they..."

It's easy to fill in the blanks.

Tim shakes his head and murmurs, "Business trip. Couple weeks now. T-They never remember me."

The angry growl released from Bruce warms Tim to his core, just to know the omega thinks of him as one of his in some way is a relief. He knows that they'll need to talk about boundaries later, and there's still a part of him that hurts horribly at knowing his biological parents don't want him...but at least Bruce does, he imprinted on the man when they met.

The soft click of Superman's cape attaching back onto his suit causes both Tim and Bruce to look up at the worried alpha. "Is...everything okay? You two...uh, met before?" 

Tim squints suspiciously at the jealous glint in the man's eyes...is he...jealous of a pup, really? Wait! Maybe he's thinking about it all wrong? If Clark Kent has a crush on Bruce Wayne, and Superman constantly visits this rooftop in hopes of seeing Batman, that could mean that A: Superman has a crush on both and it's a coincidence that he's flirting with the same man, or 2: Superman knows Batman's identity and is beating around the bush by following both personas instead of being an alpha about it and confessing.

Batman stands up with Tim held securely in his arms, the pup's theory being confirmed simply at the way the alpha looks lovingly at the omega for cradling a pup to his side.

And that's a look Tim has seen Clark Kent make many times towards Bruce Wayne at galas and no one else.

"We did." Batman finally answers the alpha's question.

Superman nods slowly, scratching his head restlessly, his lips pursing slightly in thought before speaking: "How? Was...uh...did you meet Tim's father? Do you two know each other or something?" Tim takes a glance towards Batman when his grip tightens on him, the omega's posture radiating bashfulness from the questions. Hm? So Batman does know Superman's identity too. The omega has only ever reacted this shyly towards one humble, Midwestern reporter.

"My father and B are great friends! Batman here even gave my dad a way to contact him, you know?" Blue eyes take notice of the alpha's clenched fists, his eyes sparkling mischievously as they are only confirming his theories.

"Oh? And is your father a hero too?"

Tim opens his mouth to respond, being stopped by a gloved hand covering his mouth, imagining the glare the omega is directing towards the alpha for his prodding. "And why is that of any concern to you? It's my business who I hand my personal information out to." The silence between the two heroes is tense, the alpha conceding with an apologetic smile and an awkward chuckle. "You are...absolutely right, Batman. I don't know what came over me." The Kryptonian trails off, eyeing the shorter man closely as he nuzzles into Tim, his night blue eyes longingly looking at the two and causing the pup to sigh tiredly.

It hasn't even been that long and he's already tired of seeing their willful ignorance of each other's identities.

"You know, I just don't see why I haven't gotten a way to contact you."

Tim grows confused at the groan coming from Batman and Robin, this must be a topic that comes up often, each time being met with the denial of any personal information or way of contact. "We've been over this, Superman, if I need your help-which I don't-then I can call for you. You have super hearing, so you don't need a way to contact me."

The alpha and omega startle at Tim speaking up, "One rule of thumb for any businessman is don't mix pleasure with your biz."

Superman's gaze is quizzical, his deep blue's shifting from Batman to Tim for answers, the pup sighing and gesturing from Clark to Bruce. "I've heard that Mr. Wayne has been looking into buying the Daily Planet-" he tries to hold in his smirk at the omega's breath hitching in surprise-"Do you know what that means, Superman?" The alpha visibly deflates, "He's not looking for a relationship?" The pup facepalms, "I've heard the Daily Planet has a humble reporter named Clark Kent. He's someone I've seen at galas always making goo goo eyes at Bruce Wayne." At those words, Superman clears his throat with a nervous laugh, trying to ignore the sound of blood rushing to Batman's face from underneath the mask.

"Why would I be interested in knowing t-that?"

Tim smirks, "Because...I know you know Lois Lane, Clark Kent's best friend. Maybe you'd be willing to tell her so she can tell Clark, that Bruce Wayne is just as goo goo eyed at Clark Kent than he is with him. Though, I think if either of them had working eyeballs, they'd see what's in front of them already." The emphasis on the last few words cause Superman and Batman to pause, the two standing as still as statues before the alpha laughs loudly while the omega uses the pup in his arms as a barrier between him and Clark when the taller steps closer to him. "I...wasn't sure if you figured it out yet. I knew the day I lead you and Jason up to your room-" Bruce's voice is soft as he finishes the sentence, "The interaction was familiar. You...you found out at the same time?"

Tim nuzzles into Bruce's suit before hopping out of his arms, giving the adults time to speak to each other properly, yelping as Robin slings his arm around his neck and pulls him in close, nuzzling his hair fondly with an excited smile on his face.

"Welcome to the family, Tim!"

The pup chirps in pleasant surprise, nuzzling into his new older brother as he lets the taller scent him, his eyes watering with happiness as he whispers in disbelief, "Yeah...my family."

(Beginning of notes from AO3–I know this chapter wasn't as...full blown protective for a specific reason, but him defending Tim from his self-deprecation and sadness counts, right? 😂 I just really wanted to focus on a neglect-ish kind of aspect here and not anything necessarily big or grand like traumatic flashbacks (necessarily) or mean socialites, instead, it's mean parents.

To explain Clark's defeated look when seeing Tim, he's just afraid that all these pups means Bruce is taken and in a relationship lol. Oh! And excuse Jason's brashness here, he was speaking harshly cause he was protective of his mom is all, but he recognized the loneliness in Tim's voice quite quickly and softened up.

I am a firm believer that Bruce's children adopted him just as much as he chose to do to them 😂. In this story, they all kind of quickly imprint on him. Also, Tim's attachment to Bruce's is obviously implied at him recognizing a familiarity in the way the omega interacted with him...so, he kind of saw him as his "new" mother when they first met, all because Bruce treated him kindly.

Tim will obviously get help for that over the years, and he does genuinely see Bruce as his mom, it's not just a desperation there. I just wanted to focus on his frantic thoughts more.

Please remember to stay safe, happy, healthy and of course lovely as always. You are are truly loved and greatly appreciated! 💛–End of notes from AO3.)

Links to: Part 1: The Interview, Part 2: The Gala.

[postcrashcurly]

Hello :3

I saw you asking for Curly x Anya requests so...them on vacation together? I think I'd be cute to imagine the two traveling together without worrying about the rest of the crew TwT

YAAAAY!!!

One. In my little Curlya brain I imagine a lot of their vacations are car trips. Curly prefers to drive (he is a much safer driver, and he has precious cargo on board)- Anya would have to bully him into taking a break to sleep.

Two. Curly loves to try new foods along their journey. Anya is more of a "safe foods" type of gal, but every once and a while he'll convince her to take a small bite of something new. That's how she learned she liked raw salmon.

Three. They strike me as the type to really enjoy taking photos with gimmick stops (Worlds largest ball of twine, worlds largest pistachio, Dog Bark Park Inn). Curly takes one or two photos of them together and 400 photos of Anya.

Four. Anya secretly takes photos of Curly when he isn't looking... specifically when he's sleeping and drooling on his pillow.

Five. Curly definitely wears a fanny pack on vacation, mostly for the little things Anya doesn't want to hold, ibuprofen, and a single emergency tampon. Somehow half her make-up bag ends up in there. Curly doesn't mind.

Six. They are all giggles all the time. Their inside jokes keep them up late into the night, which helps Curly stay awake while driving but has almost crashed the car several times because he was laughing so damn hard.

[thebenjiblackwoodexpress]

Snow Drop Part. 9

Description: Jacaerys seeks to convince the serving girl he's fallen in love with to be his princess. Y/N teaches Jacaerys the joys of hot chocolate in Dragonstone's kitchen, where secrets of her scarred past are revealed to the Prince.

Writer’s Note: Hey guys, Elizabeth here with an update to my Jacaerys story. Sorry for the long hiatus. I’ve been unwell and unable to write but back on track now, hopefully. There will also be two more parts uploaded in the next two days. Hope you guys enjoy!

Warnings: Female reader, mentions of past sexual assault and trauma.

Y/N tentatively handled the tiaras Jacaerys had so thoughtfully procured for her to look at, knowing by now of her fascination with princesses. She had been embarrassed about this at first, but quickly came to consider it as a further sign of his sweetness to her: that he not only indulged her in her interest, specifically reading of Targaryen princesses to her, but also actively encouraged her to view herself as one of their number. As his Princess. Each of the tiaras were more beautiful than she had the words to express and she could never have imagined, as a young girl dreaming of being a Princess, that she would be handling such precious objects. Each one bore an intricate design, encrusted with priceless gems of Ruby, emerald, topaz and quartz, as Jacaerys would explain whenever she asked what each was called. So enamoured with looking into the gems was she, that she did not notice Jacaerys smiling fondly at her, as he leant against a nearby pillar observing her.

One diadem, in particular, caught her attention, its beauty evoking in her a sense of wonder surpassing that of all the previous ones. This one she lifted more tentatively, holding it to the moonlight to observe how it shone through the white gems like distilled starlight. She gasped as the light passed through the gems and she realised that the delicate foiling around them was meant to resemble snowdrops. Her favourite flower. She then noticed the intricate dragon design interwoven throughout the piece, closely resembling Jacaerys' dragon. She looked up at Jacaerys and met his own gaze, intently trained on hers, as if in anticipation of her reaction. She hesitantly questioned, "this is the most beautiful. Are these snowdrops? The gems look just like the petals. And this dragon looks so much like Vermax." As she spoke, Jacaerys smiled knowingly, responding in a teasing voice: "I am glad that my Princess has found a crown to her liking although, of course, she shall have all of them."

Taking slow steps toward her, he took the tiara from her hands, brushing his fingers against hers as he did so, and placed it on her head. As he affectionately tucked a loose lock of hair behind her hair and stroked her cheek, he met her quizzical gaze with his own adoring one. "I hope you do not think it presumptuous, but I designed this one myself. I wanted to show you how much you are woven into mine own heart, my Princess." Her mouth parted in surprise at this. She had not thought that these tiaras were for her; they were entirely too beautiful, too precious.

The thought that Jacaerys had specifically designed this one for her, to resemble her favourite flower, interlocking with the symbol of his House, made her heart almost burst with affection for him. She felt tears welling in her eyes at his thoughtfulness, which caused a look of alarm to alight in Jacaerys' eyes, as he frantically took hold of her elbows in his hands. "What's wrong, my dove. Have I upset you in some manner? I did not mean to rush you, if that is it." Hearing the panicked note in his voice, she quickly silenced him, pulling the fabric of his tunic so that she could reach, as she crashed her lips onto his. As he wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her closer to him, he lowered his head so she would not have to reach for him, and smiled against her lips as she brought a hand up to toy with his hair. It still warmed his heart that she should like his hair, even find it beautiful, when so many others had viewed it as an impediment. When she finally pulled away, Jacaerys making it a rule never to do so first, they were both breathless and Jacaerys not a little dazed as he struggled to say something witty. He only managed to say, "I take it you liked my gift, then, my Princess" in a breathless voice before she burst out laughing and he smiled in contentment at the sweet sound.

Before she could, however, he quickly turned his head to capture her lips with his, smiling against her lips as he heard her startled squeak, before she raised her palms to steady herself against his chest. When she drew away, breaking the kiss, she swatted his chest playfully. "That was not very Princely". He lowered his head to kiss her jaw, "my apologies, my Princess. I hope you will forgive me." She affectionately patted his jaw, still encircled within his arms as he gazed lovingly down at her. His voice suddenly turning serious, he looked at her intently. "I was concerned when I did not see you today or later in the library. I worried that you were unwell." Her heart stuttering at his concern for her, she pressed her palm to his cheek as he placed his own above her hand to hold it in place and lean into her touch. "It was only that I had many duties to attend to today and did not have the time, nothing more than that." He frowned at that. "I do not like to think of you working so hard that you only return to your own chambers at such an hour. If you would only let me tell my mother of our betrothal and allow me to have you moved to the Royal apartments, I..." she interrupted him once more with a quick peck to his lips. "Not yet, I will tell you when I'm ready," She added in a contrite tone.

It was late on the next evening, when Y/N made her way back down to the servants' quarters after a long day. She had been particularly busy that day and hadn't found the time to meet Jacaerys at the library. She hoped he wouldn't mind, even if she herself missed him, but she quickly banished the thought. It was silly to think he should miss her after only a short time.

As she rounded the final hallway back to the kitchens, to make herself a hot beverage before bed, she was startled to see Prince Jacaerys casually leaning against a wall, smiling and standing up straight when he saw her approach. She excitedly skipped up to him, grabbing his elbows in her hands as she smiled up at him. "And what brings you down here at such an hour, my Prince". Jacaerys could not stop his heart from stuttering at her appellation, knowing now that she meant to say that he was her Prince. Wanting to feel her touch, he playfully tapped his jaw, before she rolled her eyes and rose on tiptoe to kiss the place he had indicated.

He dejectedly nodded his head but took her hand and raised it to his lips, all the same." As you wish, my Princess. Would you at least promise to find me in the library to walk you back, in future. I do not like the thought of you traversing these dark halls alone at such an hour." Nodding at him, she playfully rolled her eyes at his protectiveness, even as her heart secretly skipped a beat at it. "Will you allow me to escort you back to your room now?" He asked hopefully. "I was actually just making my way to the kitchen to make a hot beverage before bed, would you like to join me?" He smiled jubilantly at her suggestion, taking hold of her hand. "Lead the way, Princess" He said, being sure he would follow her anywhere if she asked him to. Interlocking her fingers with his, she dragged him in the way of the kitchen.

Jacaerys smiled at the sight of her hand interlocked with his and affectionately squeezed hers as she led him to the kitchen. This late at night, the fire from the lanterns on the walls cast a golden, ambient glow on the stone walls, creating a warm atmosphere. As Y/N withdrew her hand from Jacaerys', he found himself reflexively reaching his hand out to recapture hers, making her laugh. Seeing his uncharacteristically bashful look, she patted his jaw affectionately and pointed at a nearby chair at the kitchen bench. "Take a seat Jacaerys. I'll make the drinks." Jacaerys obediently sat but was quick to ask her if he could help and was surprised when she laughed again. "That won't be necessary, My Prince." Smirking at her, he teasingly questioned, "and what is so funny, may I ask?" She could not repress her smile as she responded in an equally teasing manner, "only that I highly doubt a Prince would know the first thing about using a kitchen. Have you ever even boiled some water?" Jacaerys had a sheepish expression on his face as he said, "well...not exactly, but I'm sure I could learn and I would be very happy to help. You shouldn't be making me a drink for me after finishing your other duties. Perhaps if you show me how to do it, I can do it for you next time."

Y/N had been fully prepared to tease Jacaerys over his lack of competence in the kitchen, but his sweet offer to learn how to make her favourite drink for her made her walk up to him instead at his perch on a bench, so that she was between his legs, and kiss him. His arms immediately reached out to encircle her waist and pull her toward him. When she broke the kiss, she delighted to note that he had a slight dazed expression on his face. She loved to elicit such a response from kissing him, pleased that he should be as affected by her as she was by him. Rubbing his hands up and down her back, he smiled at her as he questioned, "and what did I do to merit such a response?" She brushed a lock of his hair from his forehead and smiled at him, "You're just sweet." His smile expanded at this, as he pinched her cheek, "not as sweet as you, my Princess."

After ladling the warm milk, steeped in chocolate and spices, into two mugs, she made to carry them over to the table where Jacaerys was sitting. No sooner had she reached out to do so then she heard Jacaerys run the short distance from the bench he was perched on to her. Wrapping an arm around her torso, he playfully spun her so that she was behind him, smirking at her surprised expression. Lifting the tray with their drinks on it, and snatching a kiss to her cheek, he began to walk back to the table, inclining his head to indicate that she should follow him. She raised her brow in mock displeasure and placed her hands on her hips, "I am more than capable of lifting two mugs on my own, Jacaerys". Smiling playfully at her, he rejoined, "I would not want my Princess to burn her beautiful hands, not when her Prince can take the burden from her." She blushed furiously at this, not least because she had the hands of a serving maid, rather than a lady, and yet he still found them beautiful. No man had ever been so considerate of her wellbeing and of her feelings...not even when she had believed that one had been.

As he leant down to recaptured her lips, she pressed her forefinger to his lips before skipping away from him, his arms reaching out as if to stop her. She giggled at the pout on his face, "I shall never get my hot chocolate if I allow you to distract me." He smirked at this, saying in a cocky tone, "so you find me distracting, my Princess?" Rolling her eyes, she lifted the saucepan and held it over the stove she had just lit to boil the milk, "only because you are so annoying". She laughed as his pout, which she was sure he didn't realise he did, returned, finding the expression adorable.

As she prepared the hot chocolate, mixing the heated milk and spices of cinnamon, cardamon, and nutmeg in the pot, she caught glimpses of Jacaerys leaning up from his seat to watch her, a look of intense concentration on his face. She tried not to laugh at his evident confusion, most likely thinking she was performing some feat of sorcery. Her heart warmed to see him mouthing the steps of the process as if to commit them to memory for future reference. The thought of the Prince of the Realm making her hot chocolate was at once inexpressibly sweet and funny.

She shook her head to rid herself of that unwanted thought and instead redirected her gaze to Prince Jacaerys, her Prince, patting the bench next to him to urge her to sit. A smile spread across her face at the sight and she half skipped to sit beside him. As soon as she had sat down, Jacaerys frowned down at the small space she had left between them. Raising his own eyebrow playfully, as she had done before, he wrapped his arm around her torso and pulled her flush against his side. He smiled triumphantly at her as he saw her trying to suppress her own smile and look reproachfully at him. Lowering his head, he pressed his lips to the side of her jaw, whispering against it, "I prefer to keep you this close to me." Pulling away to see her reaction to his teasing, he smiled at the blush on her cheeks as she tried to turn her head away from his gaze. Gently taking hold of his lady's chin between his forefinger and thumb, he turned her face back to his, and stroked her jaw with his thumb. "I would have you be this close to me forever and always, my dove." He lowered his head slowly to press a reverent, lingering kiss to her forehead, before moving back to allow her space to recover herself from his attentions.

A moment later, Y/N interlocked their hands together on the bench and smiled shyly up at him. Quickly shifting his gaze from their interlocked hands to meet his lady's shy gaze, he looked into her eyes with a tender expression, dazed by the sweetness of her affectionate gesture. He squeezed her hand in his, content to feel her delicate hand enclosed within his own, as he raised their hands to rest them against his lap. She smiled at him in response, and he felt his heart stutter at her beauty and the comforting thought that she was pleased by his attentions.

For so long he had been under the painful impression that she would never return his love for her, and that he would be forced to love her in silence. Coughing lightly, Y/N pushed a mug, with her free hand, across the table in Jacaerys’ direction. "Stop looking so pleased with yourself, Jacaerys and try the drink I so carefully made for you." He smirked at her as he replied, "what was that, my dove? I will, of course, be only too pleased to try the drink you so lovingly made for me." He tried to repress a laugh as he watched a look of realisation pass over his lady's features at his emphasis on the word 'lovingly'. His heart swelled with affection for his lady as she adorably swatted his shoulder, "drink the hot chocolate, you knave." His face immediately fell from its previous look of elation at her appellation. Pouting, he grumbled, "what happened to your Prince?" Half hoping she would kiss him for his troubles, he was surprised, but no less pleased, when she lightly took hold of his chin in her hand. Tapping the tip of his nose, she laughed as she told him to "remove the long face. I will give you a kiss if you drink it." His eyes suddenly lit up as he quickly lifted the mug to his lips, burning his tongue in his attempt to claim the proffered reward of his love's affection.

"It's called hot chocolate. My mother used to make it for me on special occasions when we had the money for the chocolate. It was rare but it was all the more special for it. Of course we wouldn't have made it with milk but it was just as nice with hot water. The point was that it was our special thing that we would look forward to doing together. We would take turns coming up with new recipes with the spices we had and it became almost a game to make the best recipe out of what we had." A dreamy expression settled onto Y/N's features as she relayed her childhood memories. "She'd usually save some for my birthday and she'd make me a cup before reading me a story. Those are some of my fondest memories, listening to my mother read me a story by candlelight, burrowed under the blankets. Even now the smell of it reminds me of those times and of her." There's always a steady supply of chocolate here, one of the many perks of serving Queen Rhaenyra." Y/N smiled nonchalantly at Jacaerys when she had finished her story but was surprised to see that his own expression looked almost pained. Before she could ascertain the reason, he carefully raised his knuckle to gently caress the side of her cheek, looking at her with a look of utmost concern. "It is a beautiful memory to have. I would love to have met your mother. I confess that it pains me to think of you suffering any hardships, my dove. I would shield you from any difficulties if could."

At his slightly pained expression, Y/N brushed her lips against Jacaerys' in the ghost of a kiss, as his eyes fluttered closed in contentment. He little cared if he burned his mouth if the feel of her soft, precious lips on his would be the reward. Drawing away, she tapped his jaw, smiling indulgently at him. "You are a silly boy." A grin spread on his face at her teasing, "I am not sure how well that bodes for the realm, for the Prince to be a 'silly boy'" He sighed, "but If I am to be thought so, it is only on the condition that I am your silly boy." He looked into her eyes intently at this, hoping to convey the seriousness of his meaning behind his eyes, even if his tone was light and teasing.

He really did mean to say that he would be happy to be called any playful insult she had for him, if only to be thought hers. If she would only continue to honour him with her love and trust and to look to him for comfort and protection, both for her person and her heart. He had not realised how long he had been staring at her, as if he couldn't believe she was real, he laughed again and he realised he must look a fool. Coughing lightly he took another sip of the drink to appease her. "It's delicious, you are most skilled." In truth, she could have made him a noxious concoction and he would have said much the same, favouring the drink merely because his lady had been the one to make it with her lovely hands. "I have never had such a drink." Smiling tenderly at him, she sipped her own drink and he nearly became distracted, again, in staring at her lips.

She found herself, once again, stunned by his consideration for her feelings and her past struggles. Even now he stared into her eyes with his warm brown ones, as if he wanted to protect her from all the evils of the world....even one so little as an absence of hot chocolate. That last thought made her laugh again, which caused Jacaerys to frown, not understanding the cause. He asked his next question in a tentative voice, as if fearful of her answer, "do not you believe me, my love?". She patted his chest affectionately, smiling as she responded, "it is only the thought of you defending me from a shortage of hot chocolate that makes me laugh." His eyes lit up mischievously and he smirked as he responded in a teasing tone. "I hope my lady will take my genuine concern for her hot chocolate needs more seriously. I shall have a shipment of chocolate brought in from the Gullet if it shall please my Princess. If I have to sack King's Landing for a steady supply, I will have no hesitation." He rejoiced as his Princess broke out into laughter at this, delighted to have elicited such a sweet sound from her, even if he was only half joking. He would have to see the kitchens had a steady supply of the drink for his lady and he would learn to make it himself, so that he could surprise her.

The Prince and his love talked late into the night, as the guttering candles along the walls attested to. Jacaerys paid little heed to the passage of time, engrossed in anything that his lady had to say, no matter the topic. His fascination with her far exceeded her own in even Princes and dragons, viewing her as by far the most wonderful being in existence.

One thought did keep clawing its way to the surface of his mind: What was the cause for his lady's continual evasions of his requests to announce their betrothal? He sought to understand what could be the cause of her delays and if he could remedy any concerns she might have. He could not but worry that it was her difficulty trusting in him that was the cause...that she had changed her mind about him. Resolving to uncover the cause without further delay, he took a deep breath as he prepared for her answer. "What is it that leads you to delay our marriage, my dove? Is it something I can remedy or...is it" He stuttered, "is it me that is is the problem? Do you not yet trust in the depths of my love for you?" She looked momentarily stunned at his directness, having hoped to evade this question for longer, she began looking frantically anywhere but his eyes. Jacaerys once again brought his hand up to gently cup her cheek and turn her face back to meet his own gaze. "Please answer me, my love. I am in agony fearing that it is your distrust in myself which causes this delay. If it is so, tell me what I can do to prove my love for you." He looked at her with so much sincerity and genuine concern in his eyes that she felt she could no longer conceal the real reason for her delay. Whilst she loved Jacaerys and could think of no greater happiness than marrying him, she was also painfully aware of her having felt the same way about another man who had betrayed her trust.

She could not completely erase the fear from her mind that Jacaerys would do the same. She realised that she would have to be completely honest with him if he were to fully allay her fears. She took a deep breath, as she prepared to reveal the cause of her delays and risk his potential rejection. "I wish to tell you something which should go some way to explaining my hesitation. But it may also change your opinion of me. You may not wish to marry me when you hear it. She spoke in a quiet, tentative voice, which expressed her concern that he would be displeased with her. Hearing her dejected tone, Jacaerys took hold of both of her hands in his, cradling them in his lap, as he urged her to continue. Gazing intently into her eyes, hoping to convey the intensity of his love for her in them, he spoke in a resolute tone: "I can already assure you, my sweet, that nothing could ever shake my most earnest desire to marry you. You are and shall remain the Princess of my heart, even should you decide, yourself, to cast me aside." Not fully convinced by this, but nonetheless comforted by his assurance, Y/N continued. "When I was younger, I fell in love with another man. He, too, told me he loved me and made a proposal of marriage. I was foolish enough then to believe in the honesty of his intentions, blinded by my love for him. I was made all too aware of his intentions, however, when...."

Seeing his lady hesitate, intaking a sharp breath and wincing at the memory, he squeezed her hands gently, hesitant to initiate any more intimate embrace as he began to understand what she wished to tell him. He struggled to contain his own anger with the man who had harmed his love, forcing himself to remain outwardly calm, so as not to further alarm her or make her believe herself to be the cause of his ire. Instead, he merely waited patiently for her to continue. "When he tried to force himself on me when I refused to give him what he wanted. I was fortunate that one of the servants boys came across us when they did and intervened. The thought of what could have happened still terrified and haunts me. I had known this man since I was a girl, believing him in earnest when he said that he loved me and wanted to marry me. I am not so naive as to believe every man's promise now. Whilst I do love you Jacaerys and really wish to be your wife, I cannot deny that I still fear that you will change in your manner towards me...that you will betray me in some way or another and that I will have been a fool again. It is hard to give another my trust fully when it was so cruelly trampled the first time."

As she finished speaking, he felt his heart string tugged painfully as he saw her lip tremble and her eyes brim with tears, as if she was trying her best not to fall apart in front of him. Her words had pained him inexpressibly, and he found himself struggling to choke back his own tears at the agonising thought of his love having suffered so much pain. He also fought to suppress his rage at the man who had dared to harm both his lady's heart and person. He could not fathom how anyone could harm one so precious and delicate. Jacaerys inwardly resolved that he would find this man, no matter where he was in the Seven Kingdoms, and he would kill him. He quickly filed this thought away, however. His main concern now, and always, would always be his lady. She needed him now. He knew he would have to approach comforting her delicately, in order to make her feel safe after revealing such a traumatic memory. Speaking in a gentle, cautious tone as if she were a startled deer, he asked, 'may I hold you?" He was relieved when she merely nodded before leaning her head forward to rest on his shoulder, and he carefully brought his arms up to hold her protectively to him, one hand caressing her head as he encircled his other arm around her waist. He rubbed his hand up and down her spine as he whispered soft assurances against her hair. "Hush now, my dove. I am here. Thank you for telling me, my brave girl, I understand now. Please believe me when I make you my solemn promise that I will never allow anyone to harm you again."

He held her tighter to him in a protective embrace, wishing he could take her pain from her and make it his own, as she whimpered into his shoulder. Whilst he would not reveal the full extent of his anger towards the villain who had not only assaulted his love, but had also made her feel as if she were to blame. His chest constricted in pain at his dove's admission that she even feared that he would place blame on her. Breathing shakily, he drew back slightly from their embrace to hold Y/N's face in both his hands, looking seriously into her eyes so that she would understand he meant every word he said. "I wish you to understand that none of what happened was your fault. It pains me to think that you would fear any judgement from me on that account, but I understand your feelings. The craven scoundrel who attacked you is solely to blame and you, my dove, are most brave for telling me something, which I know must have been only too painful to recount."

Seeing that her breathing was becoming calmer, as she looked into his eyes, he continued, stroking small circles on her jaw with his thumbs. "I am honoured by the trust you have placed in me in telling me this. I understand, now, your hesitation to trust fully in my love, knowing how cruelly your precious love has been abused in the past. I can only hope that you will allow me to prove in any way you will allow me to that my love and respect for you will never waver." As he finished speaking, only hoping that she would believe in the ardency of his love and respect for her, he was relieved when she buried her head in his chest. Responding immediately to her need for comfort from him, hating to see her cry and desiring only to make her feel safe and protected, he wrapped his arms more securely around her, cradling her head in his hand. As he continued to hold her to him and whisper soft assurances that she was safe in his arms, Jacaerys mentally vowed to protect his precious love from any harm and to personally despatch the man who had dared to harm her.

[smilesatdawnmain]

Qi Xue

(I gave her a redesign!) As delicate as a lily, and as cunning as a viper, it’s never easy to know what is on this young lady’s mind. As cheeky and cute as her Dad, but as clever as her baba, she seems like the best of both worlds. 

Haoyu: There is a sense of exasperated jealousy when she considers her eldest brother. Being the oldest he is entitled to the thrown, the power, and the expectations to rule- all things she herself wants and KNOWS he does not. Still, there is a soft spot for her mellow and quiet sibling, who she oftens steals away to join her for shopping. As someone who is often listening instead of screaming his own opinions, there comes a sense of wisdom from him that she values. Yet, she also knows that he is a gentle soul. Too gentle in fact, that is easy to trick him. Which she does, often. With a bat of her eye lashes and pucker to her lips, she has him running tasks for her that she quite easily could do herself. And when he realizes later, all she needs to do is offer a little “I’m sorry, Gege (Elder brother),” and the man bends over backwards to forgive her. She wishes this world was a tad kinder to her Brother, even if she isn’t always. 

MK: Many often say Haoyu is the most like their Father, the Monkey King, but she would have to argue that it is Xiaotian that best holds that title. Haoyu may be their Father’s spitting image, but MK is the very essence of his soul. Overprotective, a bit conceited, lovable, cheeky, and someone you can’t help but love with everything you have. All her plans he’ll come barging in with “good intentions” and ruin all the progress she’s made. Xue would have a lot more suckers under her thumb if her big brother didn’t have this insistent desire to “be the hero”. And when he does realize he accidentally stopped one of her schemes her gives her the Baba speech of “I’m not mad. Just disappointed”. Such a pain… she supposed there was something admirable about it too however. Her brother was a charmer, and everyone knew it. Pretty like Baba, bubbly like their Father, all with his own MK adorableness. Shame he never uses all that to gain favor in the political world. 

Xiaohua: The “little flower” of the family. Being his name yes, she never felt it matched him as a person. He was smart. As smart as their Baba, with just a smidge of recklessness that their Father was known for. It made him unpredictable though, which was an asset in of itself. If she needed something done, and done right, he is the person she could go to. Need a precious gem stolen for 24 hours to use for a ball? He’s got it. Need to toss an ​​uncooperative asset into a pit until they squeal the info they had? He’s already taken care of it. Need to gush about crushes while dolling themselves up- Yeah, you go to Xiaohua. If there was one sibling she could turn to for anything, no questions asked, no judgment given, it was him. Now, if only he would just focus a bit more on his appearance and stopped dressing in the strangest clothes- then he’d be perfect! Alas, he was not, but it gave her something to do every morning as she critiqued his wardrobe and got him set right for the day. 

Sying: Her only sister. Of course, Rumble was her “Sister” for a time, but is now one of her many brothers. So… that leaves the one and only sister. It was hard sometimes being a girl in a male-dominated family. Though, many in the tribe are females, in their close blood-related family, it is only them. This means nothing to Sying, of course, as she never thinks of such trivial details. It was something to admire, Xue admits. They can’t talk about clothes, or gossip, or politics- they can’t even talk about boys for pete sake since Sying much rather prefers the fair maidens of the world. They have nothing in common as far as Xue can think. Yet, despite this, Sying rushes to her the moment any pretty-eyed lady catches her fancy. It makes Xue happy that her big sister values her opinion on the matter. Is even willing to stand still for a few hours while Xue uses her as a model for her latest clothes. Hardly close in hobbies, but close in the ways that truly matter. 

Savage: He’s an idiot, if she is honest. And she is nothing if not honest. She loves him, of course she does, but if she had the chance to just step in his brain and clean the place up, she would. He spends his days pranking others, which isn’t an unenjoyable pass time, but if he put even an ounce of that effort into something more constructive, he’d go so far. He knows nothing of politics, the ways their kingdom is structured, the tasks that is expected of him as a Prince- its infuriating! The fact that he would have claim to the throne before her is just-!!! UGHHH! At least he has learned lately not to even consider dragging her into his little pranks. He’ll wind up completely shaved from head to toe if he even tries. Still- he has his moments. She likes how cheerful he is. A blissful idiot, perhaps, but… sometimes a smile made the day brighter. He also always buys her a ton of sweets and treats, so he isn’t the worst allll the time. Just most of the time.  

Rumble: Xue does not understand how Rumble and Savage are twins. Put all the annoying muck to the left, and you’d get Savage. Put all the sweet fluff to the right, and you’d get Rumble. Sensible, quiet, creative- Rumble brings so much into the world with hardly a sound in return. Rumble sees beyond what is on the outside for who a person is deep down, which is something Xue struggles with sometimes. Baba says it is because of her age, and that it will improve as she gets older, but Rumble has been introspective like that since he was little. Probably because he himself felt different then what the world saw him as. She often thinks of Rumble when considering who she considers allies. “Never judge a book by it’s cover”. If Xue needs a sense of peace, she will got to Rumble. Rumble also doesn’t take anyone’s BS, which Xue appreciates more than anything else. 

Bao: The only younger sibling Xue has, she feels they understand her best. All of Bao’s older siblings are her older siblings. Even know, despite being just a bit older, she can tell their parents look at both of them as delicate little things to protect. Bao is sweet. Eager to play with them all, eager to be like them- they are still figuring out who they are as a person. She however, feels she knows Bao a little better then most. On their own, Bao doesn’t show a lot of aptitude for fighting. They can sing incredibly well, and certainly has their Baba’s creative gene. As for their Father’s fighting prowess, that has yet to be seen… at least, that is what everyone else says. Xue feels she sees Bao a bit differently. They are showing early talent with a sword… with a bow… with a staff, a spear- you name it, if you put it in Bao’s hands, they pick it up very quickly. Then there is that Shade of their’s. Something about it feels different- and she has never seen anyone even get close to Bao with that thing around. Bao has power. Power that just hasn’t been realized at their young age. And she is so incredibly excited to see where it goes. It is a sharp tie between Bao and Xiaohua as her favorite sibling

Previous sibling Qi Rumble

Next Sibling Qi Bao

[magebastard]

when i’ve slept so soft against her

ship: neve gallus x rook ‘tula’ ingellvar

wc: 791

rating: g

notes: gay thoughts wouldn’t leave my gay brain

Neve realizes, eventually.

An understated gold ring on her middle finger becomes, three on her right hand. A subtle jeweled earring—too ornate, too fine to wear on the job—dangles from her left ear. She’s acquired a small collection of thin, gold bracelets.

(“They won’t jingle. If you ever want to wear them while you’re out on a case.”)

She has. A few times.

They’ve collected kisses and precious trinkets alike since that late afternoon at the docks. Tula isn’t versed in flirtation, only a wind-chilled honesty. It all sprouts like mint—the attachment, the fondness. What’s worse; this thing between them doesn’t feel a thing like the heady romances Neve is used to. There are no midnight trysts under the mage lights in Dock Town. There’s no dark mystery of a person to crack. It’s a dangerous unknown.

Tula throws herself like a blanket over the flames of Neve’s doubt. She’s honest because she cannot help it. It touches the bruise of Neve’s heart when she explains—lectures on—all of the reasons why it makes sense for them to be together.

“You’re a detective, I’m a scholar. We have a shared passion for understanding.”

“You love bad coffee, and I am uniquely horrible at making it. I can provide a valuable service.”

“You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen, and I’m a great admirer of beautiful things. We’re very clearly two halves of a whole.”

“If we’re having an academic discussion about size and softness, it’s obvious to me that your hands and mine are remarkably suited to hold one another.”

The debates are weak and only growing weaker as they carry on. Rook makes a compelling argument.

And when the gifts start…

Wordlessly she slides a thin golden band up to rest just above Neve’s knuckle. There’s no fuss or explanation. The detective in her cows at the fear of discovering why, so suddenly, Tula decided to give her this. But her own hands are bejeweled so haphazardly. Must be a Nevarran thing.

She’ll go with that.

Softly, softly steady hands gently adorn her in discreet, complimentary jewelry. Neve tuts.

It‘a all very sweet and exasperating. She could believe it entirely benign. If only it weren’t for her pesky propensity to put the pieces together.

“This is your grave dowry, isn’t it?”

Her dark eyes instantly betray her excitement.

“It was! The practice of Watchers hoarding gold is customary and—in my opinion—darling. It’s expected within the Mourn Watch but there are greater intentions for the wearer in death. At some point, I suppose I just-,” she stops short with a soft ‘hm’ as if only just realizing her own thoughts.

She gazes off for a moment. Tula will do this. Some errant idea will seize her, some undeniable fact will flit about, wisp-like in her mind and take her far from the conversation she was just a participant in. Neve is intimately familiar with both sides of this happening.

“I only wanted you to have them. I imagined you wearing them.”

Tula reaches for Neve’s hand and she gives it. They’re sat limbs akimbo, facing each other on Neve’s cot. They try not to think about the groaning effort of the wood beneath them.

“If it makes you uncomfortable-,”

“Not uncomfortable. I’m not much of a jewelry kind of girl, usually. An earring, at most. I’ve never thought to wear bracelets. I don’t tend to collect anything, save evidence. I don’t know if you’ve caught on—I have quite a case of tunnel vision when it comes to the job.” Her thumbs skate over Tula’s own set of rings. (Sparser, now.) “It’s a nice change.”

“They suit you.” Imploring fingers trace the thin chain resting in the dip between her collar bones. The soft touch, the chill of her skin sends a thrill up Neve’s spine. She wants to flatten her palm over that hand, pressing the print of the other woman firmly into her chest.

“It’s usually a practice for married couples. Parceling and sharing a dowry like this. I’m sorry. Again, I wasn’t-,”

“Trouble,” around a stone in her throat.

It was a mistake. A honest mistake. They haven’t been in the most reliable state of mind—neither of them have, since all of this began. And this is just one of many missteps they’ve taken so far. It isn’t even so terrible of a thing to forgive.

It was a silly mistake. No hidden meaning to be found. Tula wanted Neve to wear her jewelry and that itself was a sweet thing. It was enough and it still is. She desperately tries to catch the kite-string of her thoughts before they fly too far too fast.

I would share them. The rings, the bracelets. Say we’ll stay. Prove me wrong.

Neve loosens only one ring on her index finger, gently pulls the hand from her neck and presses it, reluctantly into Rook’s open palm. She swallows.

“No harm done.”

[alexa-fika]

First off i love all of you one piece fics. I just recently got into the fandom again and i found you fics and they are just amazing

I wanted to request whitebeard crew x teen reader

This js kinda based of my cat, so here's the backstory, we originally had 2 cats until recently when my mom brought back a "stray", really cuddly cat and we all loved it, unfortunately later it turned out that this stray was already someone's cat so we gave it back, but while it was here one of the original cats was really jealous. Usually she hates being picked up except when it's me, but while the "stray" stayed with us she became really mean and not even I was allowed to pick her up

And I wanted to ask if you could write something similar to this, were the whitebeards maybe pick up another teen or just a new crewmate and the reader is kinda jealous/mean and scared the they might be replaced (abandonment issues) and maybe add one person they usually have a great relationship with but suddenly they completely avoid/ignore them and won't let anyone be near them.

I hope you can work with this, sorry for writing so much

Have a great day/night and know that you are amazing!! <3

First Envy (teen!Marco x winged!teen!reader)

A/N . Throwing a tantrum because I left the app to get a pic of young marco to share and tumblr deleted my progress. Anyhow something about young marco just tickles my fancy, he’s just such a goofy guy and even more lovable

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for reader in japanese for the enjoyment of both reader and oc characters both!

Dividers by @/firefly-graphics

“Come on, Dokucha! Join the party!” Vista called excitedly

“You can’t drink yet, but there are a lot of other things you can do; we have set up a lot of games since we have more kids around,” he prattled on, only to pause and wince at the glare the teen sent their way.

“Okay… I’ll leave you be then,” he muttered as he backed away from them and turned around, making a quick exit.

Dokucha sighed, watching from their place on the nest as the rest of the crew below them partied; what brought a scowl to the face, however, was the center of the celebration: their newest addition to the crew, Momonosoke.

They enviously observed as everyone fretted over him, ensuring he didn’t run anywhere dangerous or, God forbid, fall and start crying. Oh, the cries. Every time they cried, it was as if everything had to stop in order to check on him.

“If you stare any harder, Momo won’t survive-yoi!”

“Huh?” They snapped their head around at the sound only to see an empty space beside them rather than a person.

“Up Here-yoi!” Marco laughed as he called to the teen, his devil fruit activated as he used his wings to hold himself upside down in the air.

“Agh! Marco! I told you to stop doing that!” they called, scurrying back to make space between them.

“Haha! But your reactions are just the best-yoi!” he cackled, righting himself up and perching on the railings of the nest.

“What are you doing here?”

“I was lonely down there-yoi! I was missing my best mate!” he called jovially.

“Din’t seem that way, you seem to be just fine with the new people,” they sneered, taking hold of a rope and swinging themselves to an adjacent crow’s nest, their wings flapping on instinct behind them.

“You mean Momo? Well, it is refreshing to have new faces, not to mention that they are quite adorable!” he gushed, a small blush on his face as he did.

“Then, by all means, please go and spend your precious time with them.” They scoff, turning away from them, earning Marco a frown as he glided his way down, straight onto Whitebeard’s shoulder.

“Hey Pops! Something’s going on with Dokucha.”

“Hah, What do you mean?” he grumbled, looking up at his youngest

“Well, they are kind of snappy-yoi”

“They are always snappy, Marco,” he called with a roll of his eyes.

“Huh? No, they’re not. I mean, they aren’t a ray of sunshine, but they aren’t snappy, either. But now they seem to have been avoiding me. They seem to have been like this since Momo arrived,” he mused as a thought hit him.

“Are they jealous of the baby-yoi?!”

“Marco, you idiot!” he growled, bringing his fist down on the armrest of his chair, scaring Marco enough to make him jump off the older man’s shoulders.

“P-Pops?” he called as he took to hovering in front of the man.

“They’re scared!” he snapped.

“Of a baby?!” he cried.

“Listen Here, Marco, the kid has been here for a month. Do you remember where we rescued them from? How they were?! They were close to dying with their wings completely mangled! They are still trying to get used to the fact that not everyone out there is an abusive bastard that will sell them for some spare change!” Whitebeard barked

“T-They think we’re going to leave them?! But we aren’t! Can’t you talk to them, Pops?”

“That’s no good; they won’t listen to me,” he muttered as he tilted his tokkuri all the way, u,p, taking in every drop of the sake inside.

“What is that supposed to mean-yoi? Who would they listen if not you, Pops?” he asked as he flew closer to the man, his worry increasing as time went on.

“You! You Moron!” He boomed

“Me?!”

“Marco, I took them in, but they only trust you at this moment; they relate the most to you physically,” he started, gesturing to his avian features

“And you are the closest in age to them, too,” he finished. It was a small detail, seeing as the next youngest, Vista, was only 2 years older than Marco, standing at seventeen, but it seems that to the thirteen-year-old, this was a significant gap that his older sons were still unable to cross. However, he thought this to not be the defining factor, unlike the features that they both seem to share, Especially now when the teen found themselves in a stage where they had to re-learn everything that had to do with their wings as the appendages slowly grew back, as such they did the most reasonable thing and looked for the person who could guide them, Marco.

“I thought I told you to leave,” they snarled, hearing the flapping of wings behind them and the breeze of wind that came from them.

“You did-yoi.”

“You talked to the old man? He put you up to this?”

“Not really-yoi, he did made me realized you might be feeling lonely though!” he called flying In front of them, giving them no other option but to pay attention to the teen.

“You know we’re just excited for Momo to be here, right? We’re happy you’re here too,” he asked, getting excited as they hummed in response, knowing that they had caught their attention.

“You’re one of us, too,” he grinned, putting himself upside down once again.

“Besides! can’t imagine being without a flying buddy! t was starting to get on my nerves to be the only one able to do air scouting-yoi!” letting out a snicker as he noticed their bashful response at his honest words.

“I can’t really do much of that right now, though,” they muttered, glancing at their tiny stubby wings.

“You will, but you still won’t be able to beat me, so don’t get your hopes up,” he teased.

“As if! give it a few months, you will be eating those words!”

“You’re on-yoi.”

“Ha! I don’t need them to beat you now!” They smirked, taking hold of the ropes once again as they swung away, grabbing a hold of another rope as soon as their current one ran out, effectively gliding around the ship with little to no effort.

“You better not regret taking me on-yoi.” He called as he righted himself and propelled himself forward right after Dokucha.

“Ha! You show that prick, Dokucha! Someone has to put him in his place!” Fossa grinned as his crewmates joined in, cheers and whistles sounded across the Deck as the two avians traversed the ship, their own glee evident.

Look at this goofy guy

Was trying to find the one of him upside down but this will do. Also this fic just made me realized that Marco isin’t the oldest one in the crew :p I had thought he was older than the other commanders but theres like five older than him.

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