#(though that doesn't mean she's ever going to go easy on him during training. if anything it makes her push him that much harder)

[bearimba]

Silver doesn't need another father. He's already got one of those, technically, but the man turned out to be a weak, cowardly bastard who couldn't face his own problems let alone raise a child. The way he sees it, there's no need to set himself for more disappointment. He's got a roof over his head and food to eat, and that's far more than he could ever depend on in the last... however many years he'd been living on the streets. Lance and Clair are annoying as hell, but while he's training in the Dragon Den, he doesn't exactly have much room to complain. Not out loud, anyways.

Lance doesn't particularly want to be a dad either. He's already got too much responsibility on his plate as Champion, and this kid clearly needs so much more emotional support than he feels like he can provide. Simply convincing him to move into his guest room was enough of a struggle, and it only really worked because Lance had promised Silver he could "earn" his keep. What the hell is up with that, anyways? He's not sure what Silver's past looks like, and he's not about to go prying, but the bare minimum he can do is make sure he doesn't have to rough it out in the woods anymore. At least Clair seems to be having fun training him...

Clair is more than ready to be an aunt. The other two refuse to admit to caring for each other, but unlike them, she's not afraid of something as stupid as her emotions. The brat's slowly but surely been mellowing out during his training, and her idiot cousin has actually been taking care of himself for once in order to be a "good example." Silver has even caught on to calling Lance "old man" like she does, on account of those ugly-ass reading glasses the all-mighty Champion has to wear, and she couldn't be prouder. Best part is, she doesn't have to spend a dime except to treat the kid every so often! That's a win in her book if ever there was one.

[fantasylandblues]

modern!lucemond college au

modern lucemond fics have had a real chokehold on me for a while, so here's my attempt at a lucemond college au! (i wanted to include some minor jacegon at some point but still don't know how's that gonna go lol.) this turned into a whole ass drabble but just hear me out (and pls be nice!!!):

Lucerys Velaryon (22) is an undergrad student majoring in ocean studies. Aemond Targaryen (26) is getting his post-grad in modern-age westerosi politics at the same institution, the Crownlands College of King's Landing, Westeros, of valyrian tradition.

in his free time, Lucerys takes theatre lessons at school. he has a scholarship and makes the best of it, although he wouldn't consider himself to be particularly bright (he also has some trouble focusing). he walks with the determination of someone who's got places to be, though maybe that's just to appear stronger or more confident than he actually is. Luce's got a somewhat tall build now, but years of being undermined by his peers have worn down his shoulders and his joyful, boyish appearence.

his older brother, Jacaerys (24), is the one who got him into theatre in the first place, although Jace now pursues his passion for the martial arts, teaching children and teenagers alike. he's known for being short tempered among his friends and family, but is as good with those kids as he once was with his little brother during their formative years. they currently share a two bedroom apartment and often hang out at their neighbors', Baela and Rhaena's, sisters who sometimes feel like perfect female versions of them.

Aemond lives alone, but often meets up with his confidant and cool sister Helaena (27) at the campus restaurant. Helaena is an English professor there at Crownlands with a passion for teaching medieval histories. she has the study of biology as her main hobby and is often seen carrying a book or two on entomology which she borrows from the library on her free time.

it's not uncommon to catch Aemond at the olympic pool well past everyone's school hours, swimming focusedly as a way to clear his mind. he comes from a somewhat influent family, the Targaryens, and knows he will soon be introduced to the actual world of westerosi politics, so he gets to focus all of his energy on his studies and training, almost as if striving to achieve the best version of himself. back home, he cares for his pet lizard, Vhagar - named after the goddess of war in valyrian mythology, a name only his sister could come up with.

he's lost his eye and gained that terrible scar in a scrap with his brother many years ago, which needless to say went too far. he remembers seeing Aegon with their father's letter opener in hand, and then waking up in the hospital to his mother's worried eyes. there are days in which he proudly wears unnatural, dark-colored prosthetics, and days in which he just puts in a clear one and patches it up.

his brother Aegon (29) works remotely as a manager in their grandfather's company, a job he doesn't particularly like but was left with no choice but to take. he is still recovering from the car accident that left him paralysed from the waist down and with severe burns along his body. with his little daughter by his side, he's been dealing with this new life surprisingly well, as well as finding a new joy for parenting.

despite being bitter for years on end, Aemond could no longer hold a grudge against him after the terrible accident. they have been finding ways to remedy their relationship ever since.

beloved by his colleagues, Lucerys is easy to talk to, somewhat extroverted and ballsy, even, although he would rather shield from too much intimacy. being gay is an issue he thinks he's got handled, thank you very much, if that means getting with guys in seedy corners and never bringing that up in conversation. people know, of course, but it bothers Jace that he's never ever heard a mention of a special name.

that day, he strides out of the school's pool bathrooms with the uneasiness that's left in the bottom of his stomach after one of those types of encounters. a few swimmers are packing their stuff up for the day, and he looks just so out of place in his jeans and t-shirt.

Aemond knows confidently what he wants, yet is hard to approach for those who haven't earned his trust, and would very much like to mantain that hardened image. but it doesn't bother him that he craves like a human being, that he craves small and he craves grabbable, just enough to leave small bruises where his hands have been, and he would definitely benefit from fisting a handful of those brown locks he's just laid eyes upon. or maybe he shouldn't be thinking that while clad in nothing but tight swim attire.

let me know if this is anything! my askbox is open for feedback and shenanigans~

[misshoneyimhome]

can i make a request for a prompt where someone on the other team says something about willy’s girl on the ice (“i’ll have your girl on her knees for me in no time” or something sexual like that), and willy ends up fighting the guy, which is super unusual for him obv. he wins the fight but gets sent off the ice for the remainder of the game.

reader is watching the game from the stands and is really concerned seeing willy loose it like that, a little pissed off at him for it, and kinda turned on.

after the game willy is pissed and pretty quiet/non verbal, and they argue about it until he ends up telling her what was said. she assures him that nobody could ever “take” her from him and shows him how much she means that and it’s really spicy with dominate/angry willy. 🥵

Of course, you can babe! 🤗 I do always enjoy some riled-up Willy, whether jealous or pissed off, doesn't matter ⚡️

Now I know I didn't end up doing so much angry!Willy during the smutty part, my apologies! But I do hope I captured the essence of your idea - I just thought it was fun to play with the concept of the 'on her knees' part 🙈 Please, I still hope you enjoy it 💕

Tropes & Warnings; William Nylander x reader, established relationship; 18+ smut; oral sex (m recieving), that's really it;

Word count; 3.6K

Taglist; @couldawouldashoulda50 @findapenny @justwanderingbutneverlost @Fortheloveofnylander

➼｡ﾟ

Forever Thine, Forever Mine, Forever Ours | William Nylander

The playoffs were really taking a toll on your boyfriend William Nylander like never before. Although he'd faced this challenge many times in the past, this season seemed particularly tough as the Maple Leafs took on the Boston Bruins.

The atmosphere around the team was tense and filled with anticipation. Each game against the Bruins was a demanding test of skill and stamina, and the pressure was almost tangible. Every match felt like a battle, with each player pushing themselves to their limits in pursuit of victory. And William found himself at the heart of this storm, his usually composed demeanour giving way to a determined intensity that was unprecedented.

William had had an incredible season, no doubt about that. He not only scored goals and made assists, but he also proved to be an exceptional team player, dedicating himself fully both on and off the ice. His commitment showed in his training sessions, the extra hours he put in to refine his skills and physique, and his unwavering support for his teammates. He was undoubtedly a part of the pillar of the team, earning admiration and respect from everyone.

Especially you.

As his girlfriend, even though it was still your first year officially together, your relationship had quickly become deeper and more meaningful than any other. Your bond with William had grown strong, anchored in mutual respect, love, and understanding, while also being filled with fun and excitement.

You cherished every moment you spent together - from quiet mornings to late-night conversations. And the way his eyes lit up whenever he saw you, captured each moment perfectly. It was amidst the chaos of the hockey season, your relationship provided a sanctuary where both of you could find peace and comfort.

Yet, as the playoffs advanced, you could see how much it was affecting him. His usual easy-going nature often gave way to a serious intensity, reflecting how much this competition meant to him. The weight of expectations and the physical demands of the games were evident in every move he made and every sigh he let out. So, you did your utmost to support him, to be his rock during this challenging time, yet you couldn't help but worry.

_

On the brighter note, just before game six, you managed to carve out a moment to celebrate William's birthday. Naturally, you had made sure to turn off his alarm before getting to work on preparing his favourite breakfast: traditional Swedish pancakes with all the toppings he could desire. Alongside, you whipped up some scrambled eggs and bacon to ensure he had enough protein ahead of the game the following day. And of course, there was freshly brewed coffee, freshly squeezed juice, and the table was set beautifully.

The aroma of bacon and pancakes filled the air, mingling with the scent of coffee brewing, as the early morning sunlight streamed through the large windows, casting a warm, golden glow throughout the condo. You paused to take in the peaceful scene, hoping it would offer William a brief respite from the mounting pressure of the playoffs.

And after everything was ready, you found William still snoozing peacefully on his stomach. You approached him gently, sitting on the bed before running your fingers over his muscular back and shoulders, and leaned down to place soft kisses on his cheek.

With a light groan, William slowly stirred from his sleep, his soft gaze meeting yours as he smiled. "Well, this is a beautiful sight to wake up to," he murmured huskily, his voice rough from sleep.

"Only the best for my birthday boy," you replied sweetly, running your fingers through his hair.

"Mmm," William chuckled. "And is that bacon I smell?" He turned onto his back, grinning widely at you.

You couldn't help but return his smile, as you admired his gorgeous toned torso. "Yes, indeed. Like I said, only the best for my birthday boy."

William was without a doubt beyond grateful for your efforts. And clad in his most comfortable clothes, his eyes gleamed with love and appreciation as he took in the sight of the beautifully set table filled with his favourite breakfast treats. He then reached out, pulling you into a warm embrace, and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.

"You're amazing, you know that?" William said with admiration in his voice.

You chuckled lightly, leaning into his touch. "Hmm, yes, I do know - but I don’t mind hearing it from you."

William laughed softly as he then took his seat. And as you both enjoyed the delicious breakfast, savouring the quiet morning, a deep sense of contentment settled over you. Despite the challenges and pressures outside, everything felt perfect in that moment.

After indulging in the tasteful breakfast, you decided it was time to give William the carefully chosen birthday gift you had prepared for him. Shopping for your boyfriend was never really easy, considering he seemed to have everything he wanted. And naturally, he had even told you multiple times that you didn't need to buy him anything, but you couldn't resist. You wanted to get your boyfriend a gift, no matter how big or small.

So, placing the wrapped box in front of him, you watched William chuckled deeply. "I told you, you didn't have to get me anything, babe."

"I know, but I wanted to. So, hush and just open it," you replied firmly, though there was a playful tone in your voice.

And as he began to open the perfectly squared box, his lips curved into a wide smile upon discovering the watch you had chosen. Although he didn't particularly need a new watch, you thought it would be a way for you to be part of his everyday style. And judging by the look on his face, you believed you'd nailed it.

"Wow, babe, this is amazing," William said, taking the watch out of the box to examine it closely.

You couldn't help but smile, feeling a sense of pride as you watched him. Yet, your heart beat a little faster as you still had to show him your favourite part. So, gently taking the watch from his fingers, you turned it around so he could read the small engraving on the underside of the metal.

"Forever thine, forever mine, forever ours."

William's eyes softened as he read the inscription, his expression shifting from delight to something deeper and more loving. He then looked up at you, his gaze filled with emotion. "I love it," he murmured. "And I love you. So much."

"I love you too, Willy," you whispered softly, leaning in to press a tender kiss to his lips.

The rest of the day was spent in a blissful haze. You laughed, talked, and simply enjoyed each other’s company, savouring the rare moments of calm before the storm. And as the sun set, casting long shadows across the city, you felt a renewed sense of hope and determination. No matter what the playoffs threw at you, you knew you would face it together.

_

The stands were a sea of blue and white, the crowd's energy infectious, as you sat in your usual spot, proudly wearing a Leafs jersey with Nylander’s name and number emblazoned on the back. The air buzzed with excitement, fans cheering and chanting, their voices merging into a powerful roar that echoed through the arena. You could feel the anticipation building, each passing second bringing you closer to the start of the game.

And as the match unfolded, your eyes followed your boyfriend’s every move on the ice, your heart racing with each play. William was skating with fierce determination, his every move purposeful and precise. The game was intense, and the Bruins were playing aggressively, their aggression palpable even from the stands. As a Leafs fan, it felt downright dirty.

Your heart pounded with every hit, every pass, and every shot. You were on edge, knowing how much this game meant to William and the team. Yet, suddenly, a scuffle broke out near the boards. You squinted, trying to make out what was happening, and you noticed one of the Bruins players got in William’s face, seemingly taunting him.

You could see the tension in William’s posture, his shoulders tensing as the player leaned in, saying something that made his expression darken. To your great surprise, you then watched in horror as William’s fists clenched at his sides. And before you knew it, he had dropped his gloves and launched himself at the player, causing shouting to erupt around you as the two men collided, fists flying.

You let out a gasp.

This was so unlike William. He was usually known for his composure, his ability to stay cool under pressure, but whatever the Bruins player had said had pushed him over the edge. So, you swallowed hard as you watched intensely, heart in your throat, as William dominated the fight.

You were torn between anger that he’d initiated a physical fight—something that seemed unnecessary—and something more primal and lustful stirring within you. Embarrassingly, you had to admit that seeing William riled up and swinging his fists turned you on, biting your lower lip as arousal began to stir. And when William then finally sent the other player sprawling onto the ice, you felt a wave of heat, causing you to clench your thighs together.

However, the referees then quickly intervened, pulling them apart and escorting William off the ice as he was ejected for the remainder of the game, causing a knot of worry to twist in your stomach. This wasn’t like him at all. And as the game continued, your mind was only half on the action, the other half consumed with concern for William.

So, before the final buzzer sounded, you made your way down to the locker rooms, flashing your pass to security. Despite the team being close to a win, the atmosphere was subdued, and you could feel the tension radiating through the Scotiabank Arena.

Then you spotted William, sitting alone in his stall with his head in his hands. You approached cautiously through the locker room, your heart aching at the sight of him so dejected. His usually confident posture was slumped, his broad shoulders hunched over as if carrying an unbearable weight.

“Willy, baby,” you said softly, sitting down next to him. But he didn’t look up, his shoulders tense.

“Hey,” he simply muttered, his voice low and rough. You placed a hand on his arm, feeling the taut muscles beneath his jersey.

“What happened out there?” you asked, trying to keep your voice gentle despite the mix of emotions churning inside you. “That wasn’t like you.”

He was silent for a moment, but then finally lifted his head to meet your gaze. His eyes were dark, filled with anger and something else – something that made your heart ache.

“Nothing,” he simply mumbled, but you knew that was far from the truth.

“Come on, Willy, I know you better than that,” you pressed on, yet that only made William scowl at you with a hint of anger.

“I said nothing, alright!” he almost shouted as he swiftly rose from his seat. “Now can we just get out of here?”

You were baffled. William had never shouted at you like that before. And what was even more frustrating was that it had nothing to do with you. You hadn’t been out there on the ice; you hadn’t done anything to him. So, this little scene of his was unacceptable..

Standing up as well, you crossed your arms and took a step forward. “Nuh huh, you don’t get to yell at me like that. Just tell me what happened; it’s clearly bothering you,” you spoke firmly, yet kept your tone from shouting.

William let out a deep, frustrated sigh, hands on his hips as he looked at you with a tense expression. “He said something, alright... something about you,” he admitted, his voice tight and still furious. “Something... disgusting. And I just couldn’t let him get away with it.”

Your breath caught in your throat, a mix of anger and a strange thrill coursing through you. “What did he say?”

William clenched his jaw, his eyes flashing as he pressed his lips together before speaking with spite. “He said… he’d have you on your knees for him in no time. That you could be his if he wanted you. And… maybe if they won tonight… he’d have a round with you.”

The words hung between you, heavy and vile, as you felt a surge of fury on his behalf, but also a deep, abiding love. William had fought, but he had done it for you. He had taken a risk, potentially being ejected from the game, just to protect you. And the thought of his loyalty and the lengths he would go to defend you made your heart swell and something even wilder grow within.

So, determined to end this small argument, you stepped forward and cupped William’s face in your hands, feeling the tension in his jaw. “Willy, no one could ever take me from you. No one.”

His eyes searched yours, the anger slowly giving way to something more primal. “I know. You’re mine,” he simply said, his voice low and rough as he leaned down to meet yours, his hands finding your waist and pulling you closer to his body. “Only mine.”

“Yes,” you whispered, your lips almost touching his, the words a promise. “Only yours.”

Both of you were beyond eager to close the gap, to taste each other. The kiss you then shared ignited something fiercer between you, a flame that quickly grew. And before you knew it, William had lifted you into his embrace, his strong hands possessively holding your buttocks as he pressed you against the cool tiles of the locker room wall. His anger and desire melded into a fervent, almost desperate need to claim you, to reassure himself of your loyalty. The intensity of his kiss deepened, his touch firm and unyielding, conveying everything he felt without a single word.

Your breath hitched as he kissed you fiercely. But then, he breathlessly pulled away. “Tell me you’re mine,” he demanded, his voice rough with need, before briefly kissing you again, lightly biting your lip.

“I’m yours, Willy,” you gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair. “Forever yours.”

He growled low in his throat, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “Damn right,” he muttered, his lips hungrily trailing down your neck, marking you as his. “No one else.”

His touch was demanding, almost punishing in its intensity, but you welcomed it, needing to show him just how much he meant to you. And as he claimed you with every kiss, every touch, the bond between you strengthened, unbreakable and eternal.

Yet, by the time you heard a loud whistle sound, signalling the rest of the team could soon enter the locker room, you were both spent, breathless and entwined. The anger had almost ebbed away, leaving only a profound sense of connection and belonging. 

So, letting out a deep breath, both of you couldn’t help but smile. “You should probably get changed so we can get out of here as soon as possible?” you suggested, a playful smirk curving your lips. And without needing to ask twice, William eagerly agreed, gently putting you down on your feet. 

He then swiftly and skillfully shed his hockey gear, a sight you couldn’t help but enjoy. As he changed into more comfortable clothes, you simply watched him with hungry eyes, and a smile tugged at your lips.

“Alright, let’s go,” William commanded, grabbing your hand.

“Willy, the game is almost over. Maybe we should wait so you can finish up with the team,” you protested, though your voice betrayed your desire to be alone with him.

“Do I look like I give a shit? Come on.”

William’s words were nothing but determined, and before you could object further, he was pulling you towards the car park and his vehicle.

Walking through the dimly lit corridors of the arena, the distant sounds of the game fading behind you, your mind raced with the evening’s events. The way William had defended your honour, his fierce protectiveness, and now his urgency to take you away from it all—it stirred a mix of emotions within you.

And while in the car, William’s hand remained firmly on your thigh. His touch was reassuring, his grip steady on the steering wheel as he navigated through the city. Though the journey home was quiet, the tension of the night slowly dissolved yet still palpable as the city lights streaked past. Glancing at your boyfriend, his jaw set in determination, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride and love.

Upon arriving at his condo, the familiar comfort of home enveloping you both, William wasted no time, pulling you into his arms again the moment the door closed behind you. His kiss was tender yet fervent, a silent promise of his unwavering devotion, as he allowed himself to taste you once more.

You were in no doubt about his pure intentions of the evening, so as he gently guided you to the spacious sofa, you had something on your mind.

With a confident expression on your face, you then pushed him down onto the cushions, hungrily licking your lips as you spoke. “How about I get on my knees for you? Then you can have me if that’s what you want.”

Repeating the words of the opposing player had William’s eyes darkening with desire, his breath hitching as he processed your words. “You don’t have to do that,” he murmured, though the raw need in his gaze betrayed his true feelings.

“Oh, but I want to,” you whispered, your voice husky with anticipation. “I want to show you just how much you mean to me, and how grateful I am for everything you do.”

So, before he could protest further, you were already kneeling between his legs, your hands trailing up his thighs. The look of sheer adoration and lust on his face sent a thrill through you, fueling your desire to please him.

As you maintained your gaze with his, you deftly slipped a couple of fingers past the elastic waistband of his joggers and boxers, gently pulling them down to expose his semi-hard erection to the air. William let his lips part slightly, desire stirring within him, and a moan then escaped him as he felt your soft lips on his tender skin.

“Oh yes, baby,” William grunted, his hand finding your hair and gently pulling you closer.

You began to worship him with your touch, taking his length into your warm, wet mouth, relaxing your throat enough to take him deeper. You felt him grow harder on your touch, his hands tangled in your hair as he guided you but still letting you set the pace. The connection between you was electric, every moment charged with the intensity of your feelings for each other.

You breathed steadily through your nose as you moved your lips up and down his shaft, alternating between licking and using your hand to cover what your mouth didn’t. You listened attentively to William’s pleasure-filled noises, his small grunts signalling his climax approaching.

With each suck, lick, and caress, you poured your love and devotion into your actions. His low groans and whispered words of encouragement spurred you on, each sound driving your mind wilder to please him. Taking your time, savouring every moment, you ensured he felt just how much you adored and cherished him.

“Fuck, baby, yes…” he moaned softly under his breath. 

You tried to maintain eye contact as you continued working his member, increasing speed and depth with each moment, saliva dribbling from the corner of your mouth as you hungrily guided him in and out.

“Oh yes… Mmmm,” William moaned louder as you intensified your actions. “Shit, baby… I’m gonna come if you keep going like that.”

And naturally, you wanted to push William over the edge, to give him that peak of pleasure, a rush of euphoria only you could provide. Then as you noticed him closing his eyes, leaning his head back, and lightly lifting his hips towards you, you knew he was on the brink.

You couldn’t help but enjoy the pleasure you could bring him, and as you pumped his shaft a few more times, he then let out a deep grunt before he released himself into your mouth. You always savoured the taste of William’s cum, a blend of sweetness and saltiness. And ensuring to clean him up thoroughly, you coaxed out the last drops.

William’s breathing became ragged, his body tense with pleasure as you gently released him from your mouth. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe and desire. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

Looking up at him, your eyes brimming with love, you whispered hoarsely, “I’m all yours, Willy,” thick with emotion. You placed a gentle kiss on his cock before slowly rising on your knees to come closer to his face.

And when he finally regained control of his breathing, the look of pure ecstasy on his face was all the reward you needed. William pulled up his sweats and then drew you into his arms, his kisses fervent and filled with gratitude as he tasted the remains of himself on your lips. 

“You’re amazing,” he murmured against your lips. “I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you.”

“Me neither,” you replied with a chuckle, your heart swelling with love as you snuggled into his embrace. “But that doesn’t matter.” Gently, you traced the watch on his wrist, a gift from you that he had chosen to wear that day. “Forever thine, forever mine,” you whispered.

“Forever ours,” William finished the quote, prompting you to look up into his blue eyes, a smile spreading across your face.

“Exactly.”

[erideights]

With my 6th sense. (2)

Pairing: Hunter x fem! jedi reader

Rating: SFW, nothing you should worry about, just tension between the sarge and the general

Wordcount: 2K

Chapters: (1) (3) (4)* (5)* (*not posted yet)

Warnings and tags: none, extremely slight mentions of war, tension and characters shenanigans

Summary: Another day, another suicide mission for the squad. This time commanded by a jedi general Hunter doesn't seem to really get along with.

A rough pair of gloved hands awkwardly but subtly tug at the collar of his new, extremely layered outfit that clings to his skin instead of his usual gear and armor. Hunter is still not on board with the fit change and the blatant lack of protection for such a risky mission. Though the chest plate and another, smaller plate cover his torso and right leg, it just doesn't feel right.

He gets the need to not be recognized as Republic soldiers since the political and military fallout would be a nightmare with no end in sight, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it. And he doesn’t.

Narrowing his eyes, he crosses his arms over his chest and settles into one of the seats in the cockpit of the ship. His gaze is fixed on the holomap in the general’s hands, as is all his attention.

"I'd love to say our last recon squad managed to send back a better scan of the planet, but..." (Y/N) sighs and shakes her head slightly, an apologetic smile on her lips as she shrugs. The blue light from the holomap reflects on her youthful face, and Hunter can’t help but wonder how much field experience someone like her must have to be sent on a mission like this. She’s clearly not a kid, but she doesn’t seem like a 500-year-old Jedi master like the legendary Yoda he’s heard about.

Does he actually have doubts about her leadership and actual ability to act and adapt during this mission? Absolutely. But Hunter distrusts anyone outside his squad or other clones, well aware of the training they’ve all been through and their capabilities and limits. He doesn’t know hers. And that blindness it’s dangerous.

“I can’t give you more. The fact that we even know where Serenno is and have a rough map of the planet is a miracle in itself. So we’ll work with what we have and improvise as we go.”

“I like that,” Wrecker chimes in enthusiastically, pounding his fists together in a display of eagerness to blow things up.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that’s your style,” The jedi admits with a hint of amusement. “I’ve also heard that you like to cause chaos wherever you go and leave nothing standing behind, so I imagine that reminding you this is a stealth mission where we can’t blow anything up doesn’t exactly thrill you.”

“Buzzkill,” grumbles the big clone, exasperation evident on his face. Crosshair clicks his tongue, and Tech silently takes notes on everything being discussed.

“You wouldn’t be the first to call me that,” she replies with a playful smirk.

It’s strange how she effortlessly blends with the squad’s energy, her charismatic and fun aura making the clones not only listen to her but also interact with her as if they’ve known her forever.

Hunter, though not as maniacally as Tech, makes mental notes of the mission, paying close attention to every detail the Jedi outlines. Finding the scientific base where they store the droid schematics will be the easy part. Tracking the forested area and locating the entrance will be child’s play for him. Getting in and reaching the communications room for Tech to hack and steal the schematics without making noise… maybe not so much.

“They’ll shoot down our shuttle before we even get to fantasize about getting near the planet’s orbit,” Hunter interjects, tilting his head to one side. The way he looks at her, with such an overwhelming intensity reflected in his brown eyes, seems like a way of challenging her in front of his squad.

“They won’t if they don’t see us coming,” (Y/N) answers without batting an eye, her gaze fixed on him, her lips curving ever so, so slightly. If he’s trying to discredit her and make things difficult before the mission has even started, he’s in for a big surprise. Pressing a button on the holomap’s projector, a Separatist cargo ship appears in full view. “Commander Cody obtained some Separatist shuttle codes during his last mission. All we need to do is use them to pass as one of their ships, dock, and detach as soon as we’re in the atmosphere. We will land as close to the forest as we can to camouflage the ship, and for the rest of the way all of us will use our legs.”

“With the schematics of one of those ships I could mask our signal to mimic theirs once the proximity scanner detects us,” Tech adds without even looking up, his eyes glued to his datapad.

“I’ll get you those before we exit hyperspace,” she promises, nodding, pleased with their cooperation and the lack of complaints beyond, well, not being able to blow anything up. She’s sure Wrecker’s heart is broken since she mentioned that.

“Any other questions, Sergeant?” In her voice there's distant touch of… annoyance? Challenge? The jedi raises an eyebrow at the clone, silently pushing him the same way he did a few minutes ago with her. She doesn’t know what his problem is—whether it’s with her specifically or all Jedi in general—but she’s not about to let him intimidate her. She’d already be dead if she wouldn’t be capable enough to deal with way worse situations than a territorial man with trust issues and a heavy feeling of rejection towards others' command.

Besides, her mission isn’t to get along with him. Would his cooperation certainly make everything easier? Yeah, sure, but she will do just fine if at least the others listen to her.

Hunter grunts quietly, the skepticism refusing to leave his face even if he had to admit to himself, her plan seems to be well tied. "Just hoping we don’t get shot to pieces in these outfits."

(Y/N) just scoffs, rolling her eyes. Of course he had to complain about the whole ‘bounty hunter/scavenger/mercenary’ outfit. "You’ll be fine, sergeant. The entire point of this mission is to not trigger any blaster."

Wrecker, seated nearby and silent until now, pipes up again with a grin. "Yeah, Hunter, lighten up. We’re practically invisible in these things!" He gives a playful nudge to Crosshair, who rolls his eyes but smirks nonetheless.

Tech, ever the practical one, adjusts his glasses and adds, "Statistically, our chances of success are improved with stealth and subtlety. The armor is merely a psychological comfort."

Hunter shakes his head, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, yeah. Let’s just hope those stats hold up when the blaster bolts start flying."

‘’Again…’’ she sighs softly, licking her lips in an absentmindedly gesture while she tilts her head to the side, eyes looking for Hunter’s from across the holomap. Thanks to the Maker Jedi training comes served with an extra bundle of patience. ‘’let’s try to not reach that point.’’

...

As the ship hums through hyperspace, the journey long as she promised, everyone settles into their own routines after wrapping up their meeting, either to prep or kill time. Wrecker's lifting a couple of crates like they're weights, Crosshair's checking and cleaning his rifle, and Tech's deep in his datapad, muttering calculations and plans under his breath. The low, constant buzz of the engines creates a background noise that almost drowns out the tension in the air.

But this isn’t her ship, it’s not a place where she can really take a breath and relax, especially with how territorial the sergeant —not so subtly— has shown himself to be. She'd rather avoid getting comfy only to have him show up with that death glare of his and say something among the lines of ‘That’s my spot.’ So she decides to do a final check on each step of the plan and her clothing, making sure the belt where she keeps her lightsaber is properly secured.

Nonetheless, a question has been bugging her since they all met back in the base, and despite trying to keep it to herself for what feels like forever (but is really just a second), she can’t really stay quiet. That’s not her style.

“I got a question,” she starts, casually leaning her arm on the seat where Tech’s sitting. She doesn’t even look at him, avoiding any awkwardness. She speaks to the whole group, knowing they can hear her from the cockpit. “Who’s the genius who landed back on Coruscant?”

Without missing a beat or even bother to look at her, almost the entire squad responds in unison, “Hunter.”

As if her body had just been struck by lightning, the jedi freezes and bites back a laugh, her lower lip trembling for a fraction of a second before she presses her lips together in a frown, trying to keep a straight face and to avoid, at all cost, to let her gaze slip to the sergeant. Clearing her throat, she nods to herself, breathing very, very slowly and swallowing hard. She knew it. She would have bet her life on it, and now Obi-Wan owes her 20 credits.

From the corner of her eye, though, she catches a subtle reaction from Hunter—a slight tightening of his jaw and a quick, almost imperceptible smirk. And until now, the sergeant was sitting a few feet away, absentmindedly twirling a vibroblade between his fingers. The gesture by itself was innocent, the jedi sure that was nothing more than a way to distract himself and pass the time, or a way to better focus on his thoughts like any other method there could be, but even if it was almost meditative, there was an underlying intensity to it.

His presence is just so loud, she cannot help but to end up sneaking a glance at him, catching his eye for a split second. He looks up, their gazes locking. There’s a moment, just a heartbeat, where the air seems to thicken too much for comfort.

“Got something to say, General?” Hunter asks, his voice low, husky. There’s a hint of challenge in his tone, again, like he’s daring her to say something and to just give him an excuse to… bark ar her. She wouldn't be surprised at all.

“Nothing. Just wondering if your knife skills are as sharp as your flying ones,” she shoots back, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. She couldn’t just keep quiet, right?

Hunter's lips twitch, maybe the start of a smile, but most probably not. “You planning on finding out?”

“Maybe,” she shrugs, arching an eyebrow, arms crossed over her chest, leaning back against the wall as soon as she reaches the cockpit. “Depends on how the mission goes I suppose.”

Without saying another word and clearly annoyed, Hunter puts the knife inside the holster strapped to his left wrist in one fluid motion, his gaze still locked on hers. His voice's raspy, low, and there's this feeling she cannot shake off, telling her there's something else behind his words. “You think this is a game, General? Lives are on the line here.”

“I’m well aware, sarge. Just because I smile doesn’t mean I’m not taking this seriously.” Her voice softens a bit ‘cause she understands his point and what war means, but that fire behind her eyes doesn't falter, that resolution intrinsic in her being doesn't weaken, her gaze fixed on his own. 

And as expected since he caught her looking at him, the tension hanging heavy between them gets even thicker for a moment, the rets of the Batch already used to Hunter's not so subtle issues with other'safter many seconds carefully measuring his next move, or so she thinks, Hunter gives a small nod, acknowledging her words. “Good. Just make sure you're ready to do what's needed to even if it's not The Jedi Style.”

“Don’t worry, that's my signature move.”

[tenpintsofsundrop]

Better Than Sleeping

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Summary:

You and Jason are friends with benefits. Though you have come to realize that the relationship doesn't always 'benefit' you when he ends up annoying you after a long, tiring day of training.

(He quickly makes you come to see that his annoying persistence can benefit you, even if you would never admit it aloud.)

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader. Friends with Benefits. Smut. Set during Season 2.

Word Count: 5,300

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This fic contains Dubious Consent. One character ‘wears down’ the other and ‘convinces them’ to have sex, and both of them display verbal consent that goes against their true actions and desires (they say no to having sex when they do truly want to) and they think of convincing the other person to agree as a kind of ‘game’. It is a relationship that is playful in nature, and this consent is based on bodily queues, facial expressions, and knowing a person’s safety and comfort based on being in a relationship with them for a period of time. If this makes you uncomfortable, please don’t read the fic.

List of detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: friends with benefits, this is primarily a smut fic, the reader character uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina, Jason is more dominant and the reader is more submissive (once the sex begins), the reader could be considered a brat, Jason calls the reader ‘babe’ (it is a canon event), Jason calls the reader ‘baby’, Jason calls the reader ‘good girl’, dubious consent - coercion (please see the above for an explanation about this), mentions of masturbation (watching someone masturbate), mentions of fucking someone to sleep/fucking someone while they are asleep, mentions of free use kink, mentions of cumming inside someone/unprotected sex, marking/biting, groping/touching through underwear (reader receiving), orgasm denial (toward the reader), ‘just the tip’, teasing, there is a point where Jason’s dick is inside her without a condom but he doesn’t cum, and he puts on a condom before fully penetrating (what would you call that?), begging, slight mentions of subspace (but it’s more so described as a lustful drunkness), there is implications toward the end of fucking someone to sleep/fucking someone while they are asleep with their permission. I believe that is everything.

...

You knew that becoming a Titan was never going to be easy. 

But fuck, this was a lot harder than you imagined it would be. Dick Grayson was quickly becoming your least favorite person. Between the 5am wake up calls and the endless workout routines, paired with the bland ‘nutrient filled’ meal plans he had everyone on to ‘fuel your bodies’ for training - he was becoming a menial drill sergeant that you couldn’t get away from. One of the only things that made it better was the fact that you had friends around - the ability to joke about him with Rachel, Gar, and Jason behind his back. Was it a bit mean-spirited? Yes. Did you feel less guilty about it whenever he added more onto the training routine? Also yes. 

You had no clue when these skills you were working so hard on were ever going to come into play. Every single night, Dick retired himself into the comms room full of computers to ‘monitor the city for threats’ - but he seemingly never found anything worthy of the team’s attention. At least not yet. So you went about the routine of training hard, becoming exhausted, falling into bed to sleep and then doing it all over again. 

Oh - and there was the other thing. The not so occasional part of your routine where Jason fucked your brains out. The fact that the two of you had developed a mutually beneficial relationship to help ‘relieve’ each other when you were horny, a quintessential friends with benefits situation. But with your muscles sore from training and your entire body so exhausted, that was the farthest thing from your mind on this night. 

After a long, hard day of training, the last thing you wanted to hear was a knock on your bedroom door. You hoped that it was simply Gar asking to borrow some of your body wash again (because he liked the smell), or Rachel asking you to kill a spider in her room, and not Dick alerting you to some surprise training drill that he had suddenly thought up. 

You shoved your pajama top over your head, finishing getting changed for the night, and rushed across the room to the door. When you opened it, you barely had time to gauge if you were pleased or displeased at seeing Jason before he spoke. 

“I’m horny.” He announced abruptly, being very abrupt about delivering his feelings. 

But it was in character for him, and didn’t surprise you in the least. 

You hated that your stomach jolted at his words, even if just out of Pavlovian habit. It had been only two days since the last time he had fucked you. He had caught you in the shower in the morning, snuck into the bathroom with a condom between his teeth and opened the shower door to join you while you were distracted meditatively washing your hair. It had been steamy, soapy, slippery, and goddamn wonderful. 

But it had left you sore and stiff before training, and you were wondering how much give and take there was - if you truly needed his cock. 

“Hello to you too.” You said, your tone just as dead tired as you felt. 

You wouldn’t admit that you were a bit horny too. You were tired, and you wanted to go to sleep. So that made you annoyed with his presence. (It should have made you more annoyed than you were.) 

Jason bit his lip, raking his eyes up and down your body with an intense heat lurking there. You glared back at him. 

Jason was intensely attractive. He was a good looking guy, that was just a fact. And while you did enjoy the way he was looking at you, staring you down like you were a porn star when you were slumped with exhaustion, wearing baggy old pjs with mascara smeared on your face with sweat, your hair a mess from the day - there was barely a spark stirred in your stomach at the idea of fucking him right now. You were just too damn tired. Dick had been running you all into the ground, instituting the same training that Batman had given him, and it was fucking exhausting. 

“So - can I come in?” Jason asked. 

He gave you a very expectant curl of his lips and tilted his head toward you when you didn’t say anything for a few seconds. You just stood there and stared at him bitterly. 

You sighed hard through your nose, not wanting to answer the question. 

Fucking him might be nice. A good orgasm before bed. But you needed to put what little energy you had left into your nightly routine and then get a good, long sleep before Dick woke everyone up at ass o’clock again. 

“No.” You finally told him. “I’m going to bed.” 

You turned and walked back into your room, but left the door open. You hoped that he would get the hint to leave on his own. You grabbed your bottle of makeup remover and a cotton pad and began taking off your makeup. 

You weren’t so lucky. 

“I’ll go to bed with you, babe.” He announced proudly. You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. 

He then came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. You felt the half hardness of his cock pressing into your ass as you wiped away your makeup with stern hands. You tried your hardest not to let him wear you down, even as you felt a tingle between your thighs. He was used to training this hard, so it wasn’t as exhausting for him. Clearly, he didn’t understand how tired you were - how badly you needed the rest. 

“Go get in your own bed.” You barked, your tone becoming more strained. 

As you leaned closer to the mirror to inspect your face, to make sure that you had gotten all the tiny specs of makeup off, you unintentionally arched your back, pushing your ass much closer to his crotch. Jason let out a quiet moan and you caught him smirking at you in the reflection of the mirror. 

He leaned in close, draping his warm body entirely over your back, trapping you there as he put one hand on the dresser and the other on the wall and leaned his body weight on you. You could have shoved him off you if you wanted to - but as you felt a tingling heat creeping up your back, you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted to. 

“Come on, babe.” He sighed into your neck. 

His hot breath on such a sensitive place caused a shiver through you that you would deny. 

“Why are you being like this? You know if you want a good sleep, getting fucked nice and hard is the best way to get it.” He told you, so entirely cocky. “My cock will put you right to bed, baby.” 

The words sent a hard jolt of electricity through you, settling a hard heat through you from your gut all the way to your face, burning uncomfortably through your skin. Combined with the way he ground his increasing hardness against your ass, you were forced to suppress a whimper. 

It made you even more annoyed with him - the fact he could play your body like an instrument he had finely tuned. And you reacted with that intense annoyance. 

“Why can’t you just masturbate like a normal person?” You scoffed at him, entirely firm, not giving away an ounce of weakness in your voice. 

“As if.” He held intense disgust in his voice at the very idea. 

He gave another firm dig of his hips, causing you to be pressed into the sharp edge of the dresser - a small twinge of pain that only added to the heat growing in your stomach. 

“Why the fuck would I resort to touching myself when I have the sweetest pussy ever to fuck right down the hall?” Jason explained. “But ya know, if you want to watch me jack off, that can be arranged.” 

Instead of responding to that, you just rolled your eyes. You hoped that he wouldn’t notice that subtle shift of lust in your features that said this was definitely a new fantasy of yours because he had brought it up. 

“You can’t deny that you need it too.” Jason whispered into your ear. 

“I need sleep.” You grunted in return. 

You then shucked out of his hold, using one of the evasive maneuvers that Dick had taught you in training, ducking under Jason’s arm when he wasn’t expecting it. Before he could blink, you were across the hall and in the bathroom. It was mostly because you knew that if you stood there any longer with his warm body pressed against your back, you would have given in far too easily. 

Naturally, Jason followed you. 

He stuck by your side through your entire night time routine, trying to wear you down. You weighed the pros and cons in your head without truly listening to him as the exhaustion seeped into your bones and battled with the lust growing inside of you. 

Jason brushed his teeth standing next to you in front of the sink while you brushed yours, all the while mumbling excuses through his toothpaste about how the sex would be good aerobic exercise to help with your training. By the time you got to doing your skincare, you ended up putting a face wash and moisturizer on him just to mentally drown out whatever he was saying - something about orgasms and endorphins and how it helps mental health. 

As you pulled back the covers to finally settle in, he snuck his way into your bed under the guise of ‘just cuddling’. Though you weren’t anywhere near convinced of that sentiment, you didn’t kick him out of the room or protect. You were surprised, but grateful when he took off his shirt, laid down, and seemed to finally shut up. You weren’t sure which you were more grateful for - the quiet or the stunning eye candy of his tight body on full display. But you didn’t question the fact that he had finally stopped nagging you. 

You crawled into bed beside him and settled into his arms. You gave him a kiss on the cheek as a goodnight (knowing that if you kissed him on the mouth, it would turn into something more heated). It was only about two minutes after you shut off your bedside lamp, shrouding the room in darkness, that the talking began again. 

“You could sleep through it.” He noted quietly. 

You sighed with deep annoyance. 

“If you want to. I could be gentle about it.” 

His voice continued on from behind you as he spooned you, one arm under your head underneath the pillow and the other laid almost possessively around your waist. 

Of course, he didn’t even have to be too descriptive for you to know what ‘it’ was. 

The idea of him gently fucking you while you fell into a lazy sleep was entirely too appealing. But he didn’t need to know that. He didn’t need to win. Especially not after you had put so much of your very little remaining energy into deterring him all night. 

“Go to sleep.” You told him with a huff, shoving your head further into the pillow. 

He simply chuckled. 

You hoped that if you just ignored him, he would shut up and go to sleep. 

You would never admit to him that heat bloomed in your stomach at the idea of Jason crawling into your bed when you were already in a deep sleep, using you for his own selfish pleasure and leaving you sore and full of cum to wake up to in the morning. 

“Hmm… no.” He replied, as easily as a petulant child, his breath fanning out over your neck once again. 

Your heated thoughts easily blossomed into a moan from your lips when he latched onto your neck without warning. He picked a particularly tender spot, sucking hard with teeth and the fullness of his lips, easily knocking the wind out of you. You shoved your heated face tightly into your pillow, praying that he wouldn’t notice your reaction. That he wouldn’t realize he so blatantly had you like putty in his hands. If he knew that, he would know that he could just take whatever he wanted and you wouldn’t protest. Not in the slightest. 

Jason already knew that. But he wasn’t just going to pull down your shorts and slam his cock into you. As much fun as that would be - he wasn’t barbaric. Plus - now that he had one of your sweet little sounds in his ears, he wanted more. He wanted to hear you beg for it after denying him for so long. 

He moved his arm from being so tightly around your waist, and pushed your shirt up. You tried your best to put up a wall of indifference toward this. He began skimming his touch oh so lightly along the roundness of your stomach, right above the band of your shorts. You knew he felt the shiver that ran through you, but you refused to say anything. You weren’t pretending to be asleep at this point, but it was a game to the two of you. You still refused to give in. 

But he was playing to win. 

He shoved his hand into the waistband of your shorts, touching you outside the fabric of your underwear. His skin felt like he could have burned you, even through the fabric. You had to make a conscious effort not to buck forward into the touch. When his fingers skimmed across your hotly beating clit (when had you gotten so turned on?) you swallowed another whimper and steadied your voice. 

“Jason.” You said his name firmly, like a warning bell. “If you don’t behave yourself, I’m gonna kick you out.” 

“I don’t think you will.” He whispered into your neck, defiantly cocky once again. 

He sucked another hard, hot mark onto your skin as he cupped your pussy whole in his palm and began grinding the heel of his hand against your clit. 

You let out a wobbling moan and your body thrashed, your energy so depleted that you could no longer hold back your body’s natural reactions to him. You were met with the hard wall of his body behind you, so firm and perfectly hot as he pressed himself tighter into you. 

He gave a satisfied grin into your skin and only doubled down, putting more pressure on your throbbing clit and causing hot waves from that point, adding to the rolling boil that raged under your skin. 

With the beautifully firm pressure and Jason’s talent, the way he knew your body so well, you could have come from this alone. Especially as the pleasure throbbed through your core, your underwear became more soaked through and it was all so beautifully smooth and wet. 

Jason began grinding his cock - still trapped inside a pair of sweats - against the back of your thigh. He groaned into your neck when he felt a pleasurable tingling of his own spreading through his gut, though he craved to be inside of you. As much as he was enjoying this - the sweet, needy sounds falling from your lips, the way your thighs clamped around his wrist, as though desperately trying to keep him in place while your hips humped against his hand like a bitch in heat - he knew that he needed more. 

And he was going to make you beg for it. 

When he felt the signature twitch of your legs that said you were about to cum, he stopped. He held his hand completely still, his strong arm easily pinning your hips down to the bed to prevent you from humping against him and simply taking what you needed. In that moment, he even curled two of his fingers up to shove the fabric of your underwear inside of you slightly, creating a sharp sting that reminded you just how empty you were feeling. 

“Jay-!” You let out his name in a petulant whine, about to scold him for the ruined orgasm, but he cut you off. 

“You gonna ask me nicely now?” He rumbled into your ear. “Admit you were wrong?” 

You wanted to bark out ‘either make me cum, or go to your own damn bed’ - but you knew that Jason was just as petty as you were. At that point, he would have gotten up and left for his own bed just to prove a point. 

“You’re keeping me awake right now.” You huffed out, trying your best to sound annoyed. (Which wasn’t too difficult, considering how badly the ruined orgasm had frustrated you.) “My point still stands.” 

Of course, sleeping was the farthest thing from your mind now. The sexual frustration had injected a new wave of energy through you, and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to rest until you were truly satisfied. 

Unfortunately, Jason knew that too. 

“Okay.” Jason sighed quietly, giving a click of his tongue. 

He then completely pulled his hand out of your shorts and pulled away from your body. It seemed like he was moving to get out of the bed - you worried you had accidentally triggered that signature pettiness in him. 

But as usual, Jason Todd surprised you. 

You bit your lip to hold back a cheer when he reached for the waistband of your shorts and underwear pulled them down all at once, exposing your hot, soaked cunt to the cool air of the room. (At some point, the blanket had been accidentally shoved off you.) You took a glance over your shoulder and of course, he was shoving his pants down to his knees. You caught a glimpse of his long, thick, hard cock bobbing out of the fabric in the darkness. But you didn’t dare to spend too much time admiring it, for fear of making him too cocky. 

You relaxed against your pillow in satisfaction, waiting for Jason to grab a condom out of the bedside table’s drawer so that he could literally fuck you to sleep. 

You were surprised when he scooted back toward you, pressing himself right up against your back once more. He proceeded to simply press his hips against yours - his cock laid flat against the bare folds of your leaking pussy, immediately becoming slick with your wetness. But be made no moves to grab a condom or even tease you by pushing inside of you raw. 

(Which - yes, the two of you had agreed to always use condoms, but it was secretly a fantasy of yours that he would go against the rule because of his overbearing need to feel you raw - or even the need to cum inside of you). 

But instead of doing any of that, Jason seemed to be settling in to relax. 

Jason draped himself across your back, wrapped his arm around your waist again, and gently laid his head on your shoulder. But he made no effort to move, or fuck you. Your pussy throbbed with need, feeling the hot, hard length pressed against you, entirely unmoving. When you clenched around nothing, you let out a wave of slick that you knew he could feel right on his cock. You felt a groan catch inside his chest, but still, he didn’t move. 

“Jason.” You breathed out, having to question him after a few more moments of silence and stillness. “What are you doing?” 

“Going to sleep.” He answered, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I thought you wanted me to just shut up and leave you alone so that you could get some rest?” 

That. Little. Shit. 

You resisted the urge to elbow him in the face. 

Obviously, being so close to you, he felt your entire body tense up with anger and annoyance. He was only able to partially hold back his satisfactory laughter. When the quiet snickers met your ears, you became even more annoyed. 

“Jason.” You scolded him gruffly. 

“Oh? I’m sorry,” He said, entirely sarcastic. “Did you want something?” 

“Did you want something?” You parroted back, mocking his words in a childish voice. 

Essentially, you had no more clever comebacks left. He had won. 

“I guess I can give you something for your troubles, babe.” Jason sighed, as though it were a grand inconvenience to him. “Maybe just the tip, though.” 

“Just the tip.” You sighed, finding yourself repeating his words once again. Though this time your voice was dead and sarcastic rather than mocking - mostly because you didn’t believe him. 

You knew that in Jason land, ‘just the tip’ meant slamming his entire cock into you after the tip lingered in your entrance for a moment. You clenched down on nothing again at the thought. 

Once again, you were expecting him to grab a condom so he could fuck you freely without worry. You were surprised when he peeled his body away from you slightly and reached down to grab his cock. After a moment of rubbing the fat cockhead along your folds to get it nice and wet, he did as promised and pushed the tip inside. 

It was the first time he had ever been inside of you without the barrier of a condom, and feeling his hot, raw skin touching yours - even just a little bit, made you gasp. 

“Jason!” 

Your voice was whiny even to your own ears, so needy for him after so much teasing. Upon instinct, feeling that painfully empty ache coming from deep inside you, you arched your back and attempted to shove your hips toward him - attempted to pull more of his thickness inside of you. But Jason was quicker, and he had his hands on both your hips, shoving you down onto the bed so hard and fast that the tip of his cock fell out of you with a wet pop. 

It was a sound that made heat beat through your cheeks, and the feeling of his wet cockhead brushing against the backs of your thighs took your breath away. 

“Oops.” He chuckled, and moved to slot himself back into position.

You had no clue why it was so dizzyingly hot. 

But this time he held you down firmly so you couldn’t simply fuck yourself back onto his cock. You moaned as the thickness of the cockhead popped back inside of you - you yearned for more, but he stayed still. 

After a moment, he began to move his hips so slightly, feeding no more than an inch of his cock into your throbbing cunt before pulling it back out. It was an entirely careful movement on his part where he fed you the first inch, and didn’t let the tip pop out again, in pathetically shallow thrusts that could barely be called sex. Your pussy ached, tingled, yearned for more. 

You mentally cursed Batman for teaching him such good self discipline and him using it for this.

“Jason.” You whined, trying fruitlessly to fight against the firm grip he had on your hips in order to fuck yourself on his cock. 

“What, babe?” He chuckled, leaning down to kiss a line across your shoulder. 

“You know what.” You replied, your tone even more frustrated and whiny. 

You wiggled your hips desperately, trying to get more of him inside of you. You yearned to feel the perfect ache of his thick cock splitting you open, hitting all of those perfect spots so deep inside of you. 

“No, I don’t.” He told you, his voice somehow steady and confident. “You’re gonna have to spell it out for me.” 

You couldn’t see it or feel it, but his hips were trembling and his abs were tight with the pure resistance of his self control. All of the energy he was using not to slam his cock into the tight, warm velvet of your cunt, especially as he felt it leak so freely around the tip of his cock, knowing how badly you needed him. He wanted nothing more than to watch you whine and babble and fall apart on his cock - but he wanted to win just a little bit more. 

There was a distinct pause. The last shreds of your own stubbornness hanging in the air, even as your cunt throbbed with need. 

Even if Jason couldn’t see your face from this angle, he could feel the warring in your body. He knew you too well. And he knew how to break you down so perfectly. 

“If you want anything more than this,” He told you, emphasizing the point with another pathetically shallow thrust. “If you want anything more than just the tip of my cock,” His voice was low and silken and creating even more heat that almost drowned you. “Then you’re gonna have to beg for it.” 

“Fuck you, Jay.” You whined out in protest, once again trying to fight his grip on your hips to fuck yourself against him. 

He viciously dug his fingers into the fat of your hips, causing a sharp sound from your throat at the beautiful pain. 

He leaned down and pressed his lips to the back of your neck, and growled out his next words in a low tone that dragged through your insides in the exact spot where his cock should have been. 

“Come on.” He urged you on. “Fucking. Beg.” 

That was when you broke. 

At least you hadn’t given in too easily. 

“Please,” You whined out breathlessly. “Please, fuck me! Fuck me, Jason! I need it.” 

“What else?” Jason asked expectantly. 

You could have killed him. But when your desperate cunt unconsciously clenched down on the fat head of his cock and you felt yourself growing only more hot and needy, you knew that there was only one thing to do. 

“I’m sorry, Jay, I should have - I should have just asked nicely in the first place. I do need it. I need your big cock inside of me so badly.” You poured it on thick, emphasizing the last words in the most pornographic voice you could muster, hoping that he was running low on self control as well. 

And he was. So he was very satisfied with this. He grinned into your skin, leaving a surprisingly tender kiss on the back of your neck before he mumbled out ‘good girl’ - something that made you moan out sharply. 

You let out a sharp noise of disappointment when his cock popped out of you again. 

“I need a condom.” He told you, giving you a reassuring pat on the ass. “As much as I’d love to cum inside you, we do have an agreement.” 

You weren’t sure which was hotter - his sex-thick voice admitting that he shared one of your deepest fantasies, or the fact that he was caring so deeply for you, making sure that he protected you with a condom even when you were in that floating headspace and willing to let him do just about anything do your body. 

Your mind was swimming contemplating it, and next thing you knew it, he had the condom on successfully. He then slammed his cock inside of you in one firm, smooth movement. Any thoughts were easily pounded out of your head by the practiced movement of his hips.

“Better now?” Jason grunted into your ear. 

You could practically feel his smugness radiating through his cock, spearing into you. 

But you were now alight with intense pleasure, warm satisfaction rolling through you - so you couldn’t bring yourself to truly care about how smug he was. Every bit of cockiness he had, he did back it up with a pretty big dick that he knew how to use well. Not that you would ever say those words aloud to him. Not even on your deathbed. 

“Just shut up and fuck me.” You ordered, though it was breathless and had no bite. 

“As you wish, babe.” He replied, and then doubled down - his hips fucking into you with an intense fury. 

You moaned like a whore at this, finally feeling that dizzying fullness that you had been craving since he had snuck his touch into your shorts. Jason drank up your sounds and easily wanted more - more of your perfect pussy squeezing around his cock, more of that wetness coating his inner thighs, more of that filthy wet smacking as he fucked into you. 

He leaned down, draping his body fully over yours once again, creating a pleasantly smothering weight on top of you as you laid on your stomach on the bed with your face nearly drowned in the pillow. He slowed the pace of his hips to a dangerous torture of a grind, fucking you so deeply now that you were sure you could feel him coming up inside of your throat. You let out a wounded noise, and he hushed you gently. 

“Shh, babe, I’ve got you.” He whispered into your ear. “Gonna make you feel so good.” 

He moved one of his hands from your hip and shoved it between your body and the bed, and once again he was cupping your mound fully in his hand - but this time there was no fabric barrier, and he was settled deep inside of you. It was filling your whole body with lava, turning every place he touched you to boiling ash. You were sure that you would have dissolved into nothingness if not for the anchor of your cunt hanging onto his cock, keeping you grounded in reality with that slight nip of pain as your muscles clenched onto him. 

“Now say thank you.” He told you, his voice so gruff in your ear, so thick with desire that it made you dizzy. “Thank me for giving you my cock.” 

He used two precise fingers to rub circles on your neglected clit, immediately sending shockwaves through your body that made your muscles jump and jolt. 

You gulped for air and struggled to move your face out of the fabric of the pillow, and Jason saw this. He moved his other hand and slid it under your cheek, gripping under your jaw to fully lift you up. 

He stilled his hips completely once again, causing a pained sound to emanate from your lungs as you clamped down on his cock deep inside of you while he continued to relentlessly work over your tender clit. He gave you a couple of seconds to catch your breath. But you were so cock dumb that you had to be reminded of the goal. 

“Come on, baby.” He encouraged you, pressing his lips to your cheek that he wasn’t holding onto. “Say ‘thank you’.” 

“Thank you.” You easily repeated back, now completely pliant to his desires. “Thank you for-for your cock.” 

“Good girl.” Jason praised you once again. 

Then he began fucking into you once more - it only took a few careful thrusts of his hips and the talent of his fingers on your clit to finally bring your orgasm to life. He shoved his tongue into your mouth as you screamed through it, imitating some sloppy version of a kiss while you flailed and creamed on his cock, your body becoming truly boneless and tired as the orgasm rocked you. 

When it was finished, he was still throbbing hard inside of you, and you let out a whine of disappointment. You were absolutely dead tired now, and you couldn’t even think of how much energy it would take to finish him off. Mister ‘Twice In A Sunday’ could last quite a long time, and that didn’t exactly work for you in that moment. 

“You can go to sleep now, babe.” He whispered into your ear. “I’ll clean you up when I’m done.” 

He began thrusting into you once more, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes drift closed. 

It ended up being a good night for both of you.

...

A/N: This is another fic of mine that was originally supposed to be like 1k or 2k and it ended up this long lmao. So I hope you enjoy it! I have been reading a lot of fics that use 'just the tip' as a trope or a prompt, and it reminds me so much of Jason (especially the Titans version of Jason) - where he would be whiny and begging for sex, and be like 'come on, just the tip' and originally that part of the fic was going to be a bit different, but I do like the way this turned out. So definitely let me know what you think of this, and keep in mind that right now (as of July 24th, if you don't have timestamps on) my Titans smut requests are still open. (And if it's in my pinned post that they're still open, then they are). So definitely send me a request for any of the Titans characters if there is something you'd like to see! I love being inspired by requests.

[olsenmyolsen]

Lots of Love

master list

dark master list

Post AoU (WandaNat)

Word Count: 2.9K

TW: Mentions of Hydra, Ultron, Pietro Death

It has been four months since Pietro Maximoff was killed by Ultron.

In those months, no one had grieved more than his sister, Wanda Maximoff.

Between leaving the only home she'd ever known in the worst state it had ever been in—the culture shock of America. Testing, training, and above all else, trying to live free once again... it hasn't exactly been easy for the young woman.

Sure, the team, The Avengers, have tried to be there for Wanda. Steve acting as a mentor and trainer for her abilities. Sam there for a good laugh when he wasn't tracking down leads for Steve's missing friend. Clint becoming somewhat of an Uncle with trips to the farm to see little fat Nathaniel and is always there to help with any questions regarding her newfound home.

For instance, a few weeks after Clint got Wanda her first-ever phone, she was confused by words and phrases being thrown at her.

"Clint." Wanda, with her accent still heavy, approached the man who had an arm around his wife as the two sat in the living room watching some reality trash. Wanda secretly stayed up late and watched the night before. "Sam texted the chat and said, lol,what does this mean?"

"It means lots of love," Clint responded without a second thought, earning a slap on the arm from Laura. "Not it doesn't." "Yes, it does." He countered. "Wanda." Laura sat up. "It used to mean lots of love. But everyone uses it to mean laugh out loud nowadays."

While Laura's explanation correct. It confused the witch even more. She looked at her phone and back to Laura. "So when I wrote, Sam Clint mentioned he was going to work on the house today and show me how to tend the horses, but all he's done is sit on the couch for the last two hours. Is this normal? He thought I was joking?" Wanda states, deeply unaware of how insulting the text sounded to none other than Clint's one good ear.

However, Laura laughs hard as Wanda stands beside the couch with an awkward feeling around her.

Clint musters up the strength within him to let Wanda know that, yes, Sam thought she was joking and that maybe she doesn't have to be Avengers-level observant when on the farm.

"Anyways, Birdman clearly doesn't understand the amount of work I do, but he will during training on Monday." Clint winks at Wanda, who shrugs. "I guess." Wanda still a little lost answers, honestly.

"Here, why don't you come sit, and I'll get started on those chores." Clint has Wanda take his place while Laura gets ready to start lunch. "You okay, though, right?" The guy with the weapon choice of two strings and stick asks, earning a nod from Wanda.

Truth be told, Wanda was doing better today. She just kept getting lost in her thoughts. She was excited to be an Avenger. To help others. Fight for the greater good. Save people from a cold, abused life she had while with Hydra. But training was exhausting. Especially when her powers grew more and more each day, that just meant pushing herself further and further.

Sometimes it worked. Like when she could lift and move Steve several feet in the air.

But there were still setbacks. And those hurt Wanda. It made her feel small, like no one would trust her if she accidentally threw Vision just a little too hard into a stack of mats one more time.

Thankfully, Vision has an indestructible head.

But you see what I mean? These last four months haven't exactly been easy for the young woman.

"You start with Romanoff this week, right?" Laura asks as she enters the room again.

There was the last little kicker—the Black Widow.

Ever since the red jacket incident, the only women on the team haven't said, well.. anything to each other. But the two women knew why. Natasha intimidated the younger woman, while Wanda's powers frightened and angered Natasha.

Years of trauma and memories were pulled back to the front of Natasha's mind in a snap, and it destroyed her. Days after the fall of Sokovia. No one saw Natasha.

Days turned into two weeks before Steve was surprised to find her alone in the vast training room before sunrise. Knuckles and feet bloodied. However, she still didn't talk. And when she did, it was in Russian. Something the old man didn't know.

The only person on the team to know Russian. To be able to communicate with Natasha was playing host to the enemy from three weeks prior.

And then the witch was back in the compound. Everyone greeted her. Except one. Everyone showed her around. Except one. Everyone apologized and tried to make conversation about the rise and fall of Ultron. Except two. Tony and Natasha. But Stark is a story for a different day.

So those weeks turned into months, and Wanda and Natasha could be in the same room, but whenever the younger one opened her mouth, the older one would leave, not without a glare or longing stare of curiosity. Those became normal.

So when the question was asked. "You start with Romanoff this week, right?" Wanda started praying to everyone and anything that Natasha Romanoff wouldn't kill her.

_

Wanda and Clint step into the smaller gym reserved for Wanda's training. "Don't sweat it. I talked to her." Clint tried to reassure the enhanced individual, but what he says does the opposite. "Thanks, Clint." She manages to reply through a panic hidden beneath her smile. "Should I warm up-"

"You're late!" The booming voice of Natasha scares Wanda and Clint. "In the future, Clint, if I say I want Wanda here at 7, what time do you think I mean?" Clint rubs the back of his neck, realizing his fuck up. "6:30." Wanda gives Clint a crazy look as he hides his face. "So she's late," Natasha emphasizes. "You can go."

"But I thought I would..." His voice trails off as Natasha raises her eyebrow. She's in a mood already, and Clint doesn't want to end up on the inside of a punching bag. Again. "Good luck, kid. I'll see you later." Clint frantically leaves Wanda without any protection.

"Alright. Stretch. Let's go." Natasha doesn't give Wanda any time before she's already in the middle of the floor doing a pose Wanda has never seen before.

Wanda tried her best to follow suit, but she can't bend like Natasha can. Natasha knows this, too. For the last month since Natasha got the word she'd be training Maximoff, she started doing expert-level training poses three times a day. Even on the days when she was busy, she would find a way to excuse herself to train.

So, as Nat does her moves flawlessly, Wanda falters at every step. Making a smile crack onto the Russians' face. So the little witch needs more help than she thought. Excellent.

"Am I really going to be a pretzel when I'm doing stealth missions, or is this just to punish me?" Wanda complained 45 minutes after Clint left. "It's not called the pretzel." Natasha quickly warns, making Wanda roll her eyes. "Doing stretches like this will make you more nimble." Natasha stops doing her pose and lets out a big breath before standing up in front of Wanda, lying on her back.

"You know I can move things with my mind, right?"

Now Natasha rolls her eyes. "Using your powers won't mean anything if you can't fight or escape a situation using your body. Get up."

Wanda groans, completely tired at Natasha, who hasn't even broken a sweat. She knows I'm not a widow, right? I can't just do what she does? Wanda thinks to herself as she follows Natasha across the room.

However, Wanda goes from thinking about all the stupid poses she just did, to pretzels, to watching Natasha. She walks with pressure on the front of her feet. It makes her silent, Wanda realizes. Wanda's eyes move up Natasha's legs covered by fabric, but the toned muscle underneath can still be seen. The higher Wanda goes, the more her breathing picks up.

Natasha walks in front of Wanda, aware of the wandering eyes behind her. She can sense them from miles away if she wanted to. But here, right now, Natasha feels Wanda's eyes scanning down her back to her butt. Again.

Stop staring

Wanda lifts her face to see Natasha stopping and turning to face her with a smile. Those thoughts weren't Wanda's own. Were they Nat's?!

Green

Wanda goes to open her mouth, but Natasha stops her with a punch thrown to her hip. Not using ALL of her strength, but the Russian could've been kinder.

"Ow fuck!" Wanda screams, using her favorite American curse word. "What the hell?!" She lifts her eyes up to see Natasha with a smirk on her face in a fighting pose.

She's such a poser, Wanda thinks as the pain in her hip subsides.

"You need to be ready at all times. Observant always." Natasha takes a step towards Wanda, who puts up her hands. "So instead of staring at my ass, you could've been assessing threats!" Wanda's cheeks go red. She was caught. And those thoughts she heard were Nat's. Shit.

"Oh please, you're not the first person to ever look." Natasha snarks, dismissing Wanda's embarrassment. "Now, will you try to train or think about me some more? I can do both. Can you?" This makes Wanda want to fight. She doesn't like being called out for a mistake like this one. She didn't even mean to stare at her ass that second time! (She did.)

Plus, seeing Natasha saying this many words in this close proximity is throwing Wanda for a loop. If she didn't know any better, Wanda would think Natasha was being friendly.

"No powers. Remember." Wanda nods. "You should speak up when I talk to you, Maximoff." Wanda glares daggers that bounce off the redhead. "Yes. No powers."  Natasha smirks. This the first time she's been able to get under the skin of the person that sent her spiraling.

After circling each other once more, Wanda tries to make the first move. But Natasha was counting on it. When Wanda lunges forward, she fully extends her arm—mistake number one. Romanoff grabs Wanda's bicep and pulls her off balance before Nat sweeps Wanda's legs, causing the younger woman to fall face-first on the mat.

"Wow. Are you sure you've been training with Steve?" Natasha mocks with a smile. Whether it was her intention or not, Wanda is getting upset. But when her face, back, and ass land on the mat in succession, followed by mocks, Wanda thought she went from being upset to pissed.

It didn't help that every time the Widow got the upper hand on Wanda, she could hear Natasha's thoughts.

Red jacket

Sloppy

Should've grabbed here instead of here

"You're trying to fail."

Green eyes

She can't rely on her powers

"You're made of marble."

Like I said. Wanda thought she was pissed. So when she got up from the mat quicker than Natasha anticipated and charged, Natasha couldn't do anything but take the hit as the two fell to the mat again. Wanda quickly holding Natasha's hands above her head. "Finally!" Natasha exclaimed through the tiny amount of pain she felt. "It's about time you got that emo anger back."

She immediately made this a lesson that Wanda failed to see it was. Even though Wanda used all that she had without her powers, Natasha didn't flinch. 'Emo Anger.'

For the multi-hundredth time since entering the compound, Wanda was hurt. It was written on her face. Natasha could look up and see it but wasn't sure what to do. For the second time since the flight back from Sokovia, Natasha saw Wanda as something other than the opposition. She saw something else. But first...

She was about to see Wand cry.

That chipped away at the rough exterior Natasha had built up since they met. "Hey Wand-"

The tight grip Wanda had on Natasha's wrists melted away as the more petite woman started to cry. Her body sliding off of Natasha's, landing on her side. Natasha quickly and without thinking wraps her arms around Wanda, sending jolts of electricity through their bodies.

It was then Natasha realized that, yes, she was terrified of Wanda's power but not Wanda. For the last four months, Natasha had been observing Wanda. At first, it was a way to protect her team members from an outside threat, but it slowly and somehow became a crush that hadn't made itself known till this second.

As Natasha held Wanda close, the witch cried more. She was mentally tired and physically exhausted. She was sure Natasha hated her even more now, and all she wanted was her brother. She wanted to speak to him one last time. Tell him that he was loved. That her favorite shows weren't the same without his complaints. She wanted to see him.

But here she was, lying on the floor, crying into the arms of the Black Widow.

"Let it out, Wanda... It's okay.." Wanda, through her calming tears, heard the sweet murmuring of Natasha. And through more sniffles and confused thoughts, Wanda couldn't help but say: "Do you hate me?" Natasha peered over Wanda's face.

Green eyes

Pink lips

Wanda's sad-looking eyes opened wider at the sound of the other woman's thoughts. "I don't hate you, Wanda."

"But you did." Wanda counteracts. Natasha thinks as she moves a hand up and down the witches back. "I did. But that was misplaced. I'm sorry for that." Wanda couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her brain was still stuck on the thoughts from earlier.

Natasha is thinking about her.

Natasha doesn't hate her.

Natasha apologized.

Natasha.

Wanda looked up to see Natasha already looking at her. "Are you feeling better?" Natasha asked. "Yes. Thank you." Wanda answered, but neither one moved. Natasha kept her arms around Wanda. While Wanda kept her face near the crook of Nat's neck. "Cinnamon."

"What?" Natasha had a smile people would pay to see. Or would be killed if they saw it. "Your hair. It smells like cinnamon. The great Black Widow uses cinnamon-infused shampoo." Nat rolled her eyes but couldn't help but be happy in this moment. "Lavender." She replied. "That's what you use." Natasha looked down at the smiling teammate, who wiped her eyes free of any remaining evidence of tears.

She saw it—a smile on Wanda's face.

A smile that Natasha made happen.

Beautiful 

Wanda pushed her head into Natasha in an effort to hide the fact that she read her thoughts and to not let Nat see her blush.

"Natasha." Wanda's muffled voice hit the spy's ears. "Yes?" Wanda was nervous on what to say next. She hadn't felt this way in a long time. "Your thoughts... I can hear them. I promise I wasn't trying. They were just loud."

Silence.

When Wanda had the courage to poke her eye out of Natasha's neck, she saw her staring away. "I think we should end training. I'll let Steve know that-" "Wait, Natasha, I didn't mean-" Natasha tried her best to pull her arm out from under the witch, but the Black Widow trained Wanda. So, in one fell swoop. Wanda gripped Natasha's arm back and kicked her forward, so Natasha surprisingly was on her back once again.

In an instant, Wanda was on top of her.

"It's okay," Wanda spoke closer to Nat's face than ever before. "You're not who they made you to be." Natasha's eyes became sad, knowing that Wanda had seen the memories she made her relive months ago. "You're not made of marble, Natasha. You're made of so much more. I like you because of that."

"You like me?" Natasha's voice cracked. She was thankful no one else was around to hear that. "Well, I don't hate you. And you don't hate me." The woman on top spoke.

Slowly and carefully, Wanda began to lean into Natasha more. "Is this okay?" Wanda asked. Natasha nodded and brought her face up until their lips softly touched one another. A quick kiss turned into another and another until the nervousness was gone, and all that remained was the lust for more. "Natasha.." Wanda began to moan as Nat's roaming hands slid down Wanda's back.

Natasha smirked. An accent never made her name sound so good.

In the far corner of the gym, Clint was retracing his steps. It had been over an hour and a half, and no one had yet come out of the room. Alive or dead. So Clint took it upon himself to make sure everything was alright.

But once he saw his two teammates tangled with one another, he decided to exit and text his wife.

"I think I'm going to have to make some upgrades to the guest bedroom on the second floor."

"lol."

dividers by @/benkeibear

[clare-875]

Until The End (Levi x Reader)- Chapter 13

[Capture and Protect]

_____ A/N: Posted on Wattpad (@CLARE_875) but also decided to post here :)

Summary: "You can push me away, but I will still fight by you, and I will still follow you… until the end."

The ever-so-stoic Levi Ackerman has only ever known the terrors that living in a cruel world could bring. This all changed one fateful day when he encountered [y/n]; a girl renowned for her looks and abnormal speed. As they escape the confines of the Underground together, they soon discover that freedom doesn't come easy in a world full of Titans. As they rise through the ranks, [y/n] becomes known as "Humanity's Angel", a beacon of hope to humanity as she melts the walls Levi had built around his heart. However, she has her secrets too, and a dark past that might just threaten to pull them apart.

The storyline and characters of Attack on Titan do NOT belong to me, but all to Hajime Isayama; however, I do own this story, and all that occurs disparate to that storyline.

[Series Masterlist] [Chapter Twelve] <--> [Chapter Fourteen] _____

Warnings: Canonical Violence, descriptions of injury

Two days had passed since you had woken up in the hospital, but most things went back to normal. Mikasa had sought you out to apologise, which you instantly brushed off. You had given her a knowing look, telling her you knew what it felt to want vengeance for those you love. She had looked at you in surprise and, in turn, surprised you with a slight smile as she thanked you again and wandered off. Eren had also checked up on you, grateful for your support in getting him back. You smiled to yourself; they were good kids. 

Levi had been... overbearing, to say the least. Barely letting you move despite the fact that your wound was healing at the abnormal pace it was. He, on the other hand, was the one who needed the rest, as you got concerned each time he would grasp at the leg he injured. It turned out that before he had come to your side, he had landed wrong in his haste to get Mikasa to get Eren to safety. Despite that, you were happy to have more time with him as both of us were grounded due to our injuries. Erwin's orders. 

During that time, he had debriefed you on the situation and upcoming operation. Apparently, with the help of the members of the 104th Training Corps, the blond boy, Armin, had helped to identify a person of interest that may be the Female Titan. Annie Leonhart. The one also supposedly responsible for killing Sawney and Bean. Evidently, she was part of the same 104th Training Corps and is now part of the Military Police. The operation would take place in the Stohess District within Wall Sina on the way to the capital. This was our last chance to capture the Female Titan; otherwise, we would have to give Eren up to the Capital. If that happened, our pursuit of finding those who wish to destroy the walls would become increasingly difficult, to the point where humanity may go extinct. 

The plan itself was that Erwin, Levi and you, along with a boy named Jean disguised as Eren, would pass through Stohess. Then, Eren would act as a decoy and lead Annie into the Underground tunnel. If they got her to the lowest level, even if she transformed, we would be able to immobilize her. However, if she had transformed before, then Eren would likely have to transform as well, and with the help of the Scouts, try to capture her. Of course, though, this was Erwin's plan, meaning there's also a plan C. If Plan B fails, Hange and Miche would be on standby, ready to entrap the female Titan with metal wires used in the Giant Forest. All of this would have to be done without you and Levi’s assistance. 

Nurse Frida had already warned you that the bleeding on your side had only recently stopped fully, your skin barely holding the injury together. If you made any sudden movements before it was fully healed, you could risk reopening it, making you return to the dire situation you were in only a few days ago. Unfortunately, Levi had been present when she gave you the rundown. You had only told him about the ability to heal at an abnormal pace, not including any other facts you had found out the days prior or of your dream. You didn't want to burden him more than you knew he was. He had taken the warning from Frida seriously, however, and though you lacked the need for bandages now, he made sure your movements were always careful as to stop you from bleeding out again. 

You now stepped out of the carriage in a simple, long black dress with matching high heels on your feet. I picked them out with Petra a few months ago. We had come to a halt due to a disturbance down the road, though you knew the "disturbance" to probably be Annie having transformed before we could encase her in the Underground tunnel. You sigh, before looking at your surroundings. You don't think you can get used to this whole "formal attire" thing. You glance over to Levi, who stands next to you. He was also in formal attire: a black jacket and pants with a white buttoned-up shirt underneath. Okay, you think to yourself, maybe I could get used to it. Well, that was before you saw the Military Police, who looked shamelessly at you.Levi had already given a dozen Scouts cleaning duty during our preparation to the Capital for, quote, "getting too distracted." 

You were slightly glad, though, as he stood slightly in front of you, blocking the majority from your view. You were sick of being treated like an object for men's pleasure as you hear another one of them let out a low whistle, "Humanity's angel in a dress." You hear mutters arise as you roll your eyes, wishing you could walk up to them and show them what "Humanity's Angel" can actually do. You see Levi tense slightly, piercing glare pointed towards the direction of the noise, but before things get too out of hand, Erwin, luckily, speaks out. 

"Nile... Deploy all of your troops. We should assume a Titan has appeared." You look up to see the Commander of the Military police look back at Erwin. "What are you saying? This is Wall Sina... There's no way a Titan could be here!" You hear a carriage nearby suddenly open again, and you see Jean, disguised as Eren, jump out in haste. "Wait! Don't move, Jaeger!" Jean looks in annoyance at the Military Police, who grasped at him, "I'm done with this disguise!" He throws the brown wig on his head to the floor as the soldier in front of him gasps dramatically. You sweatdropped slightly; it really wasn't that good of a disguise. "Never call me by that name again, moron!" Jean runs off, stopping before us and letting Erwin know that he is going too, before running off to get his equipment. 

"Erwin, what is this?" Nile yells out, but he is interrupted as a soldier lands nearby. "Commander, here!" A soldier comes with a case, which opens to reveal maneuver gear ready to go. "Good work," Erwin nods before taking the gear and putting it on himself. "Hey, Erwin!" Nile continues to shout but is ignored as Erwin looks at his surroundings. "Anyone who can move, follow me! We'll rendezvous with the capture teams." You and Levi stay in our place as you see Nile stand in front of Erwin, gun cocked and aimed at him. "Erwin, wait." The other military police follow through as well, pointing their guns at Erwin. "What you're doing is clearly treason against the crown!" 

"Nile," you hear Levi speak up from next to you, a bored expression on his face, "I'm starting to wonder if your brains don't even live up to that sorry excuse of a beard." You grin inwardly at his remark before crossing your arms over your chest and stepping next to Levi, "Seems to me that you don't even have a clue what's going on." Nile doesn't falter at our words; his gun is still aimed at Erwin. "Remove your equipment, Erwin!" A tense silence takes over as Erwin stares, blue eyes flickering at the man in front of him. Suddenly, bright light shine from the skies in the distance. Orange and yellow sparks fill the air as Nile turns, eyes wide, "Now what?" A familiar growl reaches the air. Eren. 

.....

"Titans fighting each other?!" You look up to see two members of the Military Police land by Nile's side. "Yes," the soldier replies, "The damage to the city is unbelievable! There are many casualties, both civilian and military." Nile's face turns to one of fury. "Erwin! Is all this due to your plan?!" A brief silence takes over before Erwin replies, unflinchingly. "That's correct." You hear the nearby sound of civilians screaming with the thunderous boom of the city being destroyed. "All of this was my personal decision." Erwin's stare is intense as he looks at Nile. "I don't intend to make excuses." Nile freezes, his eyes fierce at Erwin's words, before moving forward and grabbing him by the collar. "You must have known what would happen if you executed a plan like this in the city. “How? How could you do this!?" Erwin replies without hesitation. 

"To lead humanity to victory." 

"Bullshit!" Nile's voice echoes between the buildings before he lets Erwin go and reaches for his gun again. "You're a traitor! I could execute you right here and now, and none of the brass would even care!" Tension reaches the air again as you look around; you’re surrounded. "That's fine by me," Erwin replies. "But then you must assume command." Nile's form goes rigid as his hold on his gun falters. "You must not let the Female Titan escape. Paehl's in charge of formation. Vyler oversees supply. Work with them to drive her to the east wall at all costs." 

"W-wait... Wait!" Erwin heeds Nile's words, halting in his debrief of the situation. "Are you... Are you really telling me that this will help humanity?" You look to the skies, smoke now bellowing off the buildings throughout Stohess, fires raging whilst bits of debris were flung in the air. "I believe it's a step forward." Heavy silence consumes us as you see Nile's form wither, eyes shut before he grits his teeth, pulling his gun to his side. "Lower your guns, all of you." He announces as Erwin's blue eyes spark with surprise. "Handcuff him." The military police around us heed his orders, nodding. "Deploy all of our men. Your priority is civilian rescue and evacuation!" 

"Erwin, a trial will decide your punishment," Nile says, as a soldier forces Erwin's hands together. "Once this is over. I'll submit to one with pleasure." Erwin replies, voice calm as ever. His eyes then follow you and Levi as we move slightly forward. "Levi, [y/n] you stay put," his eyes then sharpen at Levi, who seems to hesitate. "You hate pointless death." Levi looks to Erwin at his words, eyes sharpening, "Yeah, you're right. I despise it, whether it be mine or your causing someone else's." 

..... 

"Levi!" you yell out as you follow him. He walks to the best of his ability to where a group of Scouts stands. He turned around swiftly, eyes sharp. You sigh, "Where are you going? Your leg is still-" But before you can finish, Levi quickly interrupts, "I have to get to where the Titans are fighting," you look at him in surprise as his gaze softens briefly before he continues. "I just have a feeling things are getting out of hand." You look at him, nodding; you trust his intuition. "Let me go with you," you say as you approach him, already knowing the answer before he speaks, shaking his head. "I won't have you bleeding out on me again," his eyes flash briefly as you see a look of past horror in his eyes. You knit your eyebrows together as he tries to get you to trust him. 

"Okay," you say slowly, his eyes looking at you in shock, "but, I'm not leaving." Levi sighs in defeat before nodding, "Fine, here," he tosses his jacket in your direction. You catch it looking up questioningly. "So the shitty Military Police don't get distracted." You look at him in shock before you put the jacket on, instantly warmer and more comfortable. You smile, rolling your eyes at his slightly flushed cheeks before he notices the teasing glint in your eyes, an irk mark appearing on his forehead. "Tch go before I change my mind!" You let out a slight laugh, shaking your head as you walked down the street in the direction Erwin left. "Yes, Captain~" 

..... 

You finally made it to Erwin's side, and your eyes widened at the scene in front of you. Eren's Titan's eyes glowed sharply, red marks adorning its body. His movements were frantic, fuelled with rage as he held onto the Female Titan, who grasped at its eyes in agony. Eren had lost control. Suddenly, the Female Titan elbows Eren's Titan in the face, blood bursting on impact, but you can't tell whether it's Eren's or hers. She then falls to the floor before kicking Eren forcefully in the head, causing him to land across civilian buildings with an earth-shattering boom. The ground shakes, but you look on to see the Female Titan get up slowly, smoke bellowing from her damaged face. She rushes forward towards Wall Sina with sharp crystalline claws appearing, the same substance that had stopped you and Levi from penetrating through her neck with our blades. 

She starts to climb up the walls in a frantic attempt at escape as Eren growls, before rising from the fallen buildings and lunging at her. Eren grabs at the Titan's legs, now hanging from her as she continues to rise. your heart thumps irregularly. If she escapes, all would be lost. As Eren tries to bite into one leg, the Female Titan kicks Eren with the other, causing him to fall to the ground. The female Titan continues to rise upwards, now free of his grasp before you see a whizz of raven hair rises towards her. At first, you thought it was Levi, but then you saw it was actually Mikasa. She cries out as she turns through the air on her maneuver gear before slicing at the Titan's fingers, causing one hand to fall limp by its side. She then changed direction, slicing again at the Titan's left hand. A moment passes, and then the Female Titan finally falls to the ground. 

The impact causes the ground underneath her to break, but then you see Eren rise up, lunging towards her, punching her hand away that flings through the air towards us. Soldiers around us scramble as the arm moves, coming in direct contact with the bridge where Erwin and you stood. Despite the blood that spurted from her severed limb and debris that flew through the air by our side, we stood motionless, looking at the scene in front of us. "I'll destroy the entire world!" Eren's voice is raspy and unnerving as it reaches the skies through the Titan. His hair moves relentlessly through the wind, and his eyes are purely murderous. Eren then leans forward towards the nape of the Female Titan, intent on devouring Annie. 

"Crap... He'll eat the girl inside, too!" You hear Hange yell from one of the rooftops. "Don't, Eren!" Jean yells out from beside them, eyes wide at the scene. "Eren!" Mikasa shouts at him, but he heeds them no mind. Your hands start to tremble as you look, unable to do anything as Eren gets closer to its nape, teeth sharp and eyes wild. He then bites in, blood tainting the air as the flesh of the nape becomes undone to reveal a girl with blond hair, unmoving as tears fall from her closed eyes. Eren's form seems to stop momentarily at the sight, as a brief silence overtakes us. But then, a bright blue light extends from where Annie lay, causing soldiers to look away as heavy winds and pressure extend out with the lights. Are they fusing?

Flesh rises up from the Female Titan, enveloping Eren's Titan with its own before you see the glow of a crystalline substance growing and enveloping Annie. Just as you think that you are done for and the crystal will envelop Eren too, you see two blades glistening between the lights. A familiar green cape flashes with the symbol of the Scouts before rushing down to Eren's Titan's nape, quickly slicing through to reveal the boy. It was Levi. "Don't eat a valuable witness, you idiot," you hear his voice as his eyes look down at the boy. Your heart warms at the sight of him despite the situation as you grasp at the jacket around you, relief filling your body. 

.... 

Several moments later, you stood between Levi and Hange as we looked at the sight of a Titan's skeleton steaming in the sun. To its left lies Annie protected deep within an impenetrable crystal. You see Mikasa hold Eren up in his withered form whilst Armin sits by his side. Moments pass slowly when you see the boy finally stir, red marks of his Titan adorning his eyes and face. "Eren..." you hear Mikasa mutter as she looks at him. "Mikasa?" The boy looks at the raven-haired girl and asks, "Where's Annie?" You follow their line of sight to Jean, who continues to slice at the crystal she is encased in despite it not leaving a single scratch, and instead causing his own blade to shatter. 

"Damn it! What is this?!" You hear him yell, eyes sharp on the woman in front of him who seems in a deep sleep. "We've come this far, and you still won't say a word, Annie?! Come out! Come out and finish what you started! Hey, this isn't fair... Annie! Annie!" Levi puts a hand on his shoulder as you follow him slowly to where they stand, standing behind them. "Stop it," Jean looks to Levi, desperation clear on his face, "it's useless." You see Jean's face conflict with emotions before he finally brings his blade back down to his side.

"Use the wires to make a net!" It's Hange now who speaks out to the Scouts. "We'll tie it up and carry it Underground." Soldiers around us reply affirmatively as they move to their commands. You look to Hange, who is deep in thought. You know what they're thinking. So many people had died, and so many sacrifices had been made, but if Annie couldn't answer any of our questions, what would we have to show for it all?  Youmove to their side quickly, squeezing their shoulder to try to provide some comfort. Hange looks to you gratefully before they go off to oversee the other Scouts. 

You follow Levi as we slowly approach Erwin, who stands still, handcuffed in front of a dozen military police. "I don't suppose we can call this operation a success..." Levi speaks out as we stop briefly beside him. "No." Erwin replies, "We have ensured the continued survival of the Survey Corps, most likely by the skin of our teeth." Levi's face darkens as you look at the floor in front of you.

.....

Later, Erwin met with the Brass under the watchful gaze of the military, and we learned several things. The summons for Eren Jaeger and the Survey Corps were suspended indefinitely. The custody of Annie Leonhart was granted to the Survey Corps, where we would keep her hidden and captive deep Underground. However, it would still take much sacrifice and time before we would learn what it was that held us captive. What it was that made you feel like your freedom, true freedom lay so far out of reach. 

_____

[Chapter Twelve] <--> [Chapter Fourteen]

[bokettochild]

Opera house AU, a proposal on how Sky and Sun became Legend's parents

So although Time looked after Legend during Twi's singing lessons, there's still a lot of time a kid would need time and attention. Like when Time is directing Twilight onstage, that's when Sun is looking after Legend. Or Twilight's sick/swamped at work/stuck in traffic, Sky picks Legend up from school and takes him to the opera house (and maybe secretly gets ice cream if the kid promises to keep quiet). Heck, maybe Sun hand sewed Legend's baby blanket

And a few times at school events that need a parent's presence, Sky and/or Sun come if Twilight's unable to. Or they show up anyways because Legend's imprinted on them

And one mother's day when Legend was six or so, he asked what that means. Teacher explains it well, Legend simply correlates the description to Sun. He's confused why everyone's in tears when he gives her the card "It's so obvious she's my mom" XD

I was thinking something similar. When Twilight joined the opera he was in crap conditions, so once the pay was better he got an apartment with a roommate and everything and you know who his roommate was? Sky! The dude had his girlfriend over a bit, but she was sweet and so good with Legend so Twilight really didn't mind. Since they lived together though, Sky was always there to offer help with a fussy baby Legend and he's just naturally warm and soft and gentle in ways that Twilight hasn't had to be (o experience with actual babies, only children).

Sky is also so much more emotionally well adjusted than Twilight, so he was the put together one of the two of them and Twilight was the walking disaster. Between the two of them though they managed to keep their tiny roommate fed, clean and happy.

Twilight's job is pretty tricky though because the hours are less predictable. Sky's rehearsals had a set schedule, but building sets? If something falls apart, doesn't work or gets destroyed then they put in the overtime and that meat sometime Twi couldn't get off work to pick up Legend from school or attend meetings or even any of his various events (Legend is an overachiever, he joined almost all the clubs)

Luckily! If both boys were busy, Sun was also eager to help! She did cheer in school so she was a lifesaver for both because Legend also joined cheer and she was far better at helping with his routines and training than either of them (two bulky, muscled men).

Sun was around a lot in general, and sort of fell into their lives as easy as a missing piece, providing advice for both and totally not falling deeper for Sky every time she saw him watching over this tiny precious little baby.

By the time Legend was old enough to go to school and learned that moms and dads existed in real life and not just stories, he sort of just mentally assigned the roles to the two people who fit the roles his teachers descried. Moms are the women who sing kids to sleep and wipe their tears and cook the food (Sky and Twilight are passing cooks but not great so Sun was bringing over food all the time) and help with school (Sun was an A+ student, Twilight and Sky were not so they're happy to let her tutor their baby). And since Twilight has always been his Uncle, than Sky must be his dad, right?

So yeah. Luckily Sky and Sun were overwhelmingly delighted with his assessment rather than upset in any way, and they're been his Mom and Dad ever since, even after they moved in together later and got married and Twilight got his own place for him and Ledge. They showed up for every school event and birthday and they've been as involved in his life as they could be, which is great because Twilight isn't always the best person to come to about some things or help with others. he tries, but sometimes a mother's touch is needed, or a more subtle approach like Sky uses.

[scalproie]

So. I can't stop.

---

"What's a mother?"

The two souls, previously deeply engaged in their conversation, flinched at the voice of the young hellborn prince, who was peeking just behind their seats, brown eyes huge and eager to learn about the world.

The souls shared a look, and would no doubt be sweating if they still were in a possession of a body.

"Well, um... y-you see, Your Highness-"

---

"There is only me and you."

"You said that already, Father!"

The sparring room always made Jin feel small, smaller than he was anyway. His father only ever trained him in a single corner. Jin had no idea why it was even called that in the first place: Kazuya never granted access to it to anybody, and even then, no one admidst all levels of Hell was even close to be his match.

The room was mainly used for training anyway: it was important to Kazuya that Jin was proficient in their family's fighting style, so he personally took to supervise his son's education himself. Jin loved those sessions, not for the complex forms and stances he had to practice over and over, but because he got to spend time with his dad.

And Kazuya was always more patient with him during these moments, for some reason.

Hence why training time was also synonymous with interrogation time.

"I know it's just the two of us, its just-"

"Mind your feet."

"It's just that everyone I know has a mother. Or had one anyway. Or even is one. Everyone had one except me. Even Hell Embodied acts like your-"

Jin felt the intensity of Kazuya's stare. The Drop it. stare, he dubbed it. Right. However Hell Embodied acted toward its king aside, making any subtle mention of Jin's grandmother, whoever she was, was coming dangerously close to the topic of Jin's grandfather, and that was a big no-no.

Jin closed his mouth and swallowed, until Kazuya's eyes left him to go back to scrutinizing every little movement of his son, dealing him easy blows to block.

"Keep your elbows up."

"I-I guess I just want to figure out more stuff about myself. I mean I don't even know what I'm supposed to be the god of."

"You're my son. That's all that matters."

"Maybe, but if you could just tell me where I come from or how I came to be... I don't know, I just want to know more."

"You haven't earned the right to know more."

Kazuya never lied. Jin knew as much because it was one of the first thing his father taught him: to never lie.

For Kazuya, lying was just a way to hide weakness, and if you had to hide weakness, then you were just weak. And if there is one thing Jin, at his young age, learned that his father hated more than lying, it was weakness.

So, as Jin will find out later in his life, in order to keep the truth away from him, Kazuya simply would not say anything, if he could help it. Coming up with that sentence was a time and lifesaver.

"But you never tell me how to do that!" Jin pouted sadly. It was useless on Kazuya. "What can I do to earn it?"

He barely had the time to finish voicing his question that Jin was swept off his feet and landed hard on his back with a yelp.

"The first step would be not to leave such obvious openings, Jin."

---

"Maybe it's just like for us phoenixes!"

Xiaoyu was sitting on the windowsill in front of Jin, swaying her legs back and forth. Jin lifted his chin from his knuckle and turned his head around to look at her.

"What do you mean?"

Xiaoyu was his first friend his own age. Well, who aged alongside him, however slow they were. Who even aged at all really. She might also have just been his first friend ever.

She started showing up at the House of the Dead not that long ago, she was a young phoenix and, by her own admission, her bubbly happy-go-lucky personality usually gave her quite the issue to stay out of trouble on the surface. It doesn't help that she never really had the fear of death either.

She was still strong enough to climb back out of Hell on her own, though it often took almost as long for her to get out than for her to spend time on the surface before dying again.

Jin loved her visits because she always spoke in great lengths of what was on said surface and whatever she had seen and experienced, and he was always more than happy to listen. Even if his father had the same disdain for her as he would a mere pest, Jin respected her and even bore a bit of admiration.

"When we die, we turn into a pile of ashes, right? Well, if you divide the pile in two and someone very close to you bury half of it in the ground, when next you rise out of your ashes and you dig where half of you was buried, you will find an egg and that's how you get a baby phoenix! No mother involved! At least, that's what my yeye told me."

"I'm... not sure it works that way for us." Jin wasn't sure it worked that way for pheonixes either.

"It could though! You gods are such weird creatures. And besides! It would make us have something in common."

Her honest smile made him smile in return. Maybe she was right, maybe his origin being so vague did not have to matter so much if she could take her own in spades. Maybe he could just enjoy being himself.

The hole in the most profound part of his soul begged to differ.

Still, he appreciated her attempt to cheer him up more than he could ever tell her. With her black and orange foreign clothing and sheer warmth that emanated out of her, she was like a literal ray of sunshine that never would've made its way to him otherwise.

"Or maybe you can count the mother as the one who bury the ashes?"

"Wait, did you just imply you hatched from an egg?"

---

"Can I help you with anything, Father?"

"No."

"Oh."

Jin was pacing besides Kazuya's desk. He was a polite young man, never wanting to impose, as reserved as his father was, but eventually even he could not deal with his own boredom any longer.

"Could you still teach me anyway? Maybe that way I could, you know, fill in for you in case you ever wanted to... take a break?"

"No."

Well that was another unsuccessful attempt at purpose-seeking. Jin paced the halls of his home, having done so more times than he could count. Maybe that was his fate, haunting the House of the Dead. How ironic.

He even considered going chatting with his father's annoying jester, so something was clearly wrong with him.

He found his salvation in two shades having trouble with repairing one of the gemstones counting device, and he happened to have a knack for this kind of tinkering. After the two souls thanked him, they informed him his services might be needed somewhere else, in an adjacent wing of the house that Jin never went to often for lack of anything interesting over there.

He made his way to the location that was way, way more secluded than he expected. To his surprise there was no one but him there. Just him, and a door bearing a busted sigil of his father. Evidently the thing that needed repairing.

Well, nothing he can do about that one, but it meant that whatever door it was sealing was now open, and if it was a storage room for one of his father's fabled collections, then at least he would have some story to tell, and some bets to win.

He barely cracked open the door when his nose was assaulted by unknown and vivid smells.

What he saw inside blew all that he thought he knew away.

He stepped inside shaking like the leaves he stepped upon, not quite believing his eyes. Grass? Plants? Were those... flowers? And that-

Jin gasped. "A tree..."

As he made his way deeper inside, no daring to touch anything, focused on the massive cedar tree in front of him, he felt a weight upon his chest.

Eugh. What was this place?

Neverminding the unease, he kept going forward, toward the tree that felt more and more like it was calling him.

He stopped a moment in the middle of the garden. It felt like.

It felt like he belonged.

He raised his hand without meaning to, like the blood inside it was attracted to the bark. Like it was yearning for it.

It was almost burning at the touch. And yet. And yet it was smooth. It was strong.

He looked at his hand. That wasn't his hand. It was slender, softer.

Then it was like he was projected out of his own body, except it wasn't his body. It was a woman, with long black hair, dressed in white, her back turned to him.

He couldn't breathe.

She slowly turned around, and her face brought back old, old, old memories. Of some place else. That barely lasted a second.

He looked at her eyes.

Dark, rich brown.

Mother?

---

"What happened to my mother?"

All heads turned to Jin as he stormed inside the throne room, the last to lazily do so was Kazuya's.

"I ought to keep you busy if all you're gonna do with your endless time is bothering me with pointless things."

"I found the garden."

Oh, how Jin basked in the pause that information gave Kazuya.

A simple motion of the king's hand was all it took for all souls present to clear the room. Even as people hurried past him, Jin kept his eyes on his father, who was doing much the same.

When the place was empty save for the both of them and the doors closed with a heavy sound, then Kazuya spoke again.

"How did you-"

"She's out there, isn't she? She's on the surface, is she from there?" Jin felt manic. All this time, all this time, at any moment, Kazuya could've told him, all along he could've relieved the void in Jin's heart. Jin never felt such anger, the back of his eyes started to hurt, something threatening to break out. "Does she know about me...?"

Kazuya stayed silent, it was clear on his face that he, too, was wrestling with many many thoughts at the same time. He had many things to say, and he picked the worst option.

"You do not have ea-"

"Enough! You keep saying that! All my life you've been saying that!"

Jin was through with trying to earn. Jin was going to get.

"Father, if you say I haven't earned the right to know one more time I swear I'll-"

"YOU'LL WHAT? WHAT WILL YOU DO, JIN?"

Kazuya slammed his hands on the desk before him and rose from his throne. As much as Jin steeled himself for this confrontation, he could not stop his body to jerk back at the sound. It wasn't that he was scared of his father, no, it's just that Kazuya rarely ever shouted, never really needed to, so to hear him lash out that suddenly was... shocking.

What Jin hated more than his own reaction though, was the strange feeling in his chest upon hearing his father say his name for the first time in what felt like forever.

Unaware, or not caring, of the turmoil happening within Jin, Kazuya continued:

"Tell me how you will succeed in demanding anything of me where even the so-called "strongest" have failed before you? Tell me what you plan to do as you defy your king, your kin? There is only us. There will only ever be us. Are you that eager to write the next chapter of our family's bloody legacy?!"

Jin fell silent.

Was that it? Is that what the neglect, the distance, the privation was about? Was Kazuya expecting Jin to kill him for good eventually? To take his place? Was that all Jin was to him? A future rival? A threat-in-waiting? Did he thought so lowly of him?

Was he scared of his own son?

That selfish fool, that stubborn old...

Kazuya feared that Jin would kill him?

In this moment, Jin just might.

"Why keep-"

"Speak up."

"Why keep me at all then? You could've just gotten rid of me ages ago, threw me away far from this place, and you, there could only just be you" The sarcastic tone Jin wanted to carry gave way to something more coarse, more raw. Neither father nor son were good at hiding their true emotions. "You could've freed yourself from all... this."

Knowing the answer to this emptiness, this missing piece, that Jin felt for all his life was finally within reach gave him the courage to go on, to openly provoke Kazuya for the first time.

"Is that what you did? To her?"

The only thing Jin heard next from his father was a spark.

Then the pain registered. A shock so brutal and intense Jin could feel spasms reverberating throughout all of his body, long after he realized his father's fist was already gone. His fingers kept twitching on their own, his teeth clenched on their own, his eyes shut on their own.

He dropped to the floor, clutching at his abdomen when he recovered the control of his hands, and when he could breathe once more he fully tasted the metallic smell of the surrounding electricity.

Right. The King of Hell was the son of the old Lightning God, first.

Kazuya was now towering over Jin. Has he always been that fast? The fist that was lodged just a second ago below Jin's chest still clenched and shaking at his father's side, his facial traits were sharpened by the ominous red glow of his eyes. His voice was glacial.

"Hellborn Prince, you are to be confined to your chambers until told otherwise. Do not expect to be let out anytime soon."

"I'm going to leave, Father, I'm going to break out of this place," Jin managed as he struggled to get off the floor, his own voice burning with determination. "You cannot keep things as they were, you cannot keep me here, I'll leave even if it kills me."

The massive doors cracked open to let in the previously dismissed servants. Suddenly the silent throne room became loud again as guards swarmed in, their captain Bruce kneeling and lending a worried hand to help Jin up. Kazuya turned around to walk back to his throne.

"Take him."

Jin swatted Bruce's hand away as he got to his feet, eyes boring a hole to the back of his father's head, before following suite and making his own way for the open doors.

Take him? What is this. Is Jin officially a prisoner now? Those are still his chambers. He doesn't need anyone to take him to his own chambers. What his father should very soon worry about is how to keep him in them, that is a promise.

As he was about to exit the room, Jin took a last glare in the direction of the throne. Kazuya had just resumed dominating the room, seated upon it once more. He was also staring at Jin.

Deep brown eyes met sharp red eyes once more.

I will leave, even if it kills me.

Jin walked out.

Kazuya rested his chin on his knuckle.

"It will."

[coldslaws]

Honestly Alder is one of the best champions in the entire franchise. The amount of depth and story that is both spoken and unspoken in Alder is genuinely amazing but he gets constantly shoved aside because his battle was "too easy" like that doesn't defeat the purpose of his whole character!

He doesn't change the minds of his opponents through battling, but through words and experiences. He helps and teaches Cheren that not everything is about battling and to not make the same mistakes he's made. He tries to see reason with N because he knew he wasn't going to win, and when everything comes to an end he lets N go because he knows she never had a chance.

He's just this funky lil bug type old guy that's been riddled with grief and pain that causes him to go rusty when the region needed him most, he just wanted to retire.

Though fuck anime Alder, they completely dumbed down his character into nothing but a lazy women's pest. Anime Alder pisses me off and I hate when I see people make posts or headcanons of anime Alder because it always includes how much of a creep he is. Bleh.

- 💌

I KNOW!!! i love him :(( him and n are just like. a thoroughly incredible found family pair. i think a lot of my family hcs make his whole situation even worse and gives him more reason to hold onto hope for n as a person than he already has because like, if lance is his sibling (and following pokespe lore where lance can talk to pkm and tries to wipe out johto), that means he's seen n's exact ideals at play all over before. first hand. he knows how bad it can get yes but he also knows that someone like lance can be rehabilitated because lance did all that awful shit, arguably did more damage than n managed to, and yet now he's successful and beloved and happy.

and then ryuki.. i dunno if ill ever get to address this on rh anyways since it's far out, and i did hint vaguely at it on nhp, but there comes a point in the future where ryuki eventually mistakenly gets someone pregnant, drops the kid (benga) in alders lap, and runs away. ive been dropping hints here and there but because of the dragon clan ordeal, ryuki struggles to connect with his dad ever again after that point, and alder struggles to support his emotional needs, which is what leads to ryu leaving for alola and abandoning benga. alder's family is so busted up and in bits and pieces, and as he grows from this hurt, he becomes a more capable guardian through supporting benga and iris, desperate to reach the hearts of anyone he can and save them from disappearing within themselves. all of that why he insists on helping n despite the nightmare they caused for unova and despite the way n came after him personally. not only did she call him names, demean him, and fight dirty against him, but she helped propagate the myth that he'd killed his best friend. his kindness, spurred on through grief and a miriad of major life experiences, is his weakness and his strength.

and like you said, he's hurting, he's old, he wants to retire. n knows to take advantage of this and, combined with his growing insecurity over the death of volcarona, he doesn't stand a chance. while maybe there was never a shot he'd actually win anyways, given that zekrom was in n's party during their battle, he still holds back enough for n to take notice and for it to linger in her brain even after everything happens. which is what eventually causes her to seek alder out, then join him for training, then become a part of a new family altogether. alder won by losing

like. he's just got so much going on and i think it's really cool. and who doesn't like nice old men or bugs. 10/10 character

and then we all collectively say fuck you pokemon anime for reducing his character

[wcrriorhearts]

annie is lost in thoughts, eyes trained on the clear blue sky outside, watching cotton candy clouds drift by. she can hear children playing somewhere below, their screeches and laughter like a ray of sunshine in the gloom of being in this hospital with finn. not that she truly minds it. this is better than the eight months of believing him to be dead, so she'll sit here forever if it means he can stay with her. but in the span of the past days she has come to wonder if all of this is truly worth it. he is alive, but from what she has been told, there is only minimal progress in his state since he was brought here. injuries have healed, some better than others, he had several surgeries, but they cannot predict if he will ever truly wake and if he does, what will be left of him. would he want this? annie doesn't think so. and she dreads the day a decision needs to be made in favor of his peace.

when he suddenly speaks, his words startled her so much that she almost jumps off the bed, because she hasn't expected to hear him. all weak she has talked to him with no reaction and the nurse told her he has never strung coherent words together since they weaned him off the medications that kept him permanently sedated. hence the believe that maybe all of the injuries had damaged his brain as well potentially. annie turns, gaping at her husband, whose eyes are open and she is very certain that he has just replied to her comment. "finny?" her hand drops his to reach out and cup his cheek, her emotions immediately all over the place. it isn't easy to keep her cool under the best of circumstances, but being highly pregnant doesn't make this any easier and she can barely contain a sob.

"we'll go home to the beach soon, you just have to get better", she promises, tears slipping down her freckled cheeks. she cannot tell if this was a lucid moment, or if he is still listening, but either way she will keep talking. maybe he needs reasons to fight, to get better and if the idea of home gives him that, annie will remind him of all the things waiting there for them when they return. "i gave our houses away to families whose homes were destroyed and it has filled the victor's village with so much more life. kids play outside all day and i think mags would have liked that. i still live in her house, though, because let's face it, we never really used our own villas anyway. a lot was destroyed during the war, but we have rebuilt many buildings already and formed a city council. no more mayors, we run the place now ourselves. i planted vegetables for the first time in spring and they haven't died yet, so that seems good. food is hard to get by at times after the war, but we manage. and the ocean is still as it was." she keeps her voice low, soothing as she speaks to him, fingers caressing the side of his face.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄  𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄  𝐀𝐑𝐄  always  in  and  out,  and  he’s  starting  to  realise  that  they  aren’t  all  the  same  doctor.  someone  is  always  talking,  only  half  of  their  words  register,  finnick  too  busy  drifting  through  the  ocean,  ears  filled  with  water  as  he  goes  in  and  out  of  consciousness.  her  voice  is  pleasant,  like  annie’s,  who  often  consumes  his  thoughts  when  he  does  think.  in  her  wedding  dress,  but  in  strange  places  —  a  green  garden  surrounded  by  people  in  grey,  in  the  arena,  on  the  beach,  sewers  and  in  this  bright  room.  her  dress  looks  nice,  and  she’s  smiling.  sometimes  he  wonders  why  she  isn’t  in  the  bright  room  with  him,  but  that  makes  his  head  hurt;  annie  makes  his  head  hurt,  and  he  tries  to  go  back  to  sleep. 

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ all  of  his  injuries  were  severe  and  obviously  life - threatening.  he’d  almost  been  eaten  alive  by  mutts,  a  large  chunk  of  skin  had  been  bitten  off  his  left  thigh,  and  the  bone  in  his  calf  almost snapped  in  half.  he’d  sustained  more  bite  marks,  like  razor - sharp  blades  stabbing  into  his  skin,  damaging  nerves  and  thankfully  avoiding  vital  organs.  there  were  some  other  things,  but  the  most  striking  were  burn  marks  from  the  explosion  he’d  gotten  on  a  majority  of  the  left  side  of  his  body.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ today,  his  body  doesn’t  hurt,  which  is  how  finnick  registers  it’s  another  day  that  and  the  blinding  lights  are  back  on  again.  it  had  taken  almost  the  entire  week,  but  it  eventually  registered  that  annie  was  in  the  room  with  him  —  but  like  everything  else,  the  moment  he  realised,  it  was  like  the  thoughts  were  locked  in  the  back  of  his  mind.  a  result  of  the  amount  of  medication  he’d  been  put  on,  the  doctors  deemed  he  could  speak  and  hear  things,  but  in  turn,  for  not  feeling  the  pain  his  body  was  in,  there  wasn’t  much  he  could  do  with  either  of  those  things.  the  young  nurse  always  reassured  all  of  finnicks  guests  that  they  should  talk  to  him,  that  he  might  say  something,  but  it  was  unlikely.  but  when  someone’s  talking,  he  tries  two  words  and  manages  to  register  ‘home’  and  ‘beach’. 

‎ ‎ ‎❛❛  s’  sound  nice ❜❜  he  mumbles,  half  his  words  impossible  to  make  out,  but  it’s  better  than  the  hums  he  uses,  trying  to  contribute  to  a  conversation.  finnick’s  eyes  are  open,  something  more  common  these  last  couple  of  days,  but  he  never  really  looks  at  anything.

[zablife]

Here For You 

Jake x girlfriend reader

Summary: Jake worries when you suddenly begin to push him away and he struggles to understand why. He doesn't realize his girlfriend is suffering a bout of depression.

Author’s Note: This was requested by the lovely @dreamlandcreations.

Warnings: language, depression, angst with fluffy ending

Jake’s jaw tightened and his head dropped as he listened to your recorded message. Normally he loved the sound of your voice. In fact, he often told you it was one of the things he loved most about you because it was so gentle and calming, but today your voice was anything but soothing. Every day this week his calls had gone straight to voicemail and he couldn’t help but worry.

“Baby, it’s me. Is everything alright? I know you said this was a busy week with classes, but I’m starting to get worried about you. Would you please call me back?” he said, the concern seeping into his voice by the end. Then he glanced up at your picture in his locker and added, “I love you, darlin,” before ending the call. His hand dropped to his side, still clutching the phone as his head came to rest on his opposite forearm in despair. 

Just then Bradley entered the locker room and called to Jake’s back, “Just finishing up with your girl, Hangman?” Jake jumped at the sound of his voice and Bradley chuckled. “Ok, I got it. It was one of those calls.” Casting his eyes to the ground he asked with amusement, “Wanna put your dick away and come up for our briefing?”

Jake spun around with a red face, not from embarrassment but anger. “Shut the fuck up, Bradshaw,” he said pushing past him. Bradley stood stunned. Hangman was usually easy going and never minded a little joking.

Later in the day, Maverick attempted to talk to Jake. During their meeting he had quickly recognized the chatty Texan had been replaced by a quiet, sullen man. The distracted look in his eye had Maverick wondering if it had something to do with you. Penny mentioned you missed work twice this week which wasn’t like you. “Is y/n feeling ok?” Maverick ventured after the meeting concluded. 

“What?” Jake said absently, shaking his head as though he hadn’t heard correctly. 

“Penny said y/n missed a couple of shifts. She thought she might be sick,” Maverick explained. 

“I haven't been able to talk to her much, but I’m going to see her tonight,” Jake answered honestly as his mind whirled with possibilities. Maybe that’s why you hadn’t called him back. If you were sick he felt terrible he wasn’t able to be there for you due to his training. Now that his day was wrapping up, he grabbed his bag and headed for the exit. He thought for a moment if he should stop and buy your favorite flowers, but he wanted to check on you first. 

When he arrived at your apartment, he shifted his weight uncomfortably from side to side waiting for you to answer the door. It took a long time, but you finally appeared. You didn’t open the door fully, staring at him through a narrow crack as he confronted you.

“Y/n, honey, I’ve been trying to call you for days. Did something happen? Are you feeling ok?” he asked, words coming out more quickly than he anticipated as he felt his heart rate climb. Without meaning to he pressed on the door a bit too harshly and it opened wider allowing him a view of the chaos inside your home. It was messier than he'd ever seen it and you looked just as disheveled, standing in front of him in baggy pajamas and unwashed hair. 

You shrunk from him and tightened your arms around yourself, feeling ashamed he was seeing you at your worst. You felt like crying, but you didn’t have the energy. All you wanted him to do was leave so you could crawl back into bed. “I’m fine so you can go,” you said in a dead voice. Jake searched your face to see if you had meant what you said. You weren’t the same bubbly, caring woman he had left and he felt confused. 

“Baby, did I do something wrong? If I did, tell me and I'll make it up to you,” he said in a soft, pleading voice. In that moment part of you desperately wanted him to stay. You wished he wasn’t being so sweet. That wasn’t what you were expecting as you had already resigned yourself to the outcome of him storming off like all the others in your past.

“No, it’s just…I’m busy. I’ve got a paper to write,” you lied, rubbing your hand over your forehead anxiously. You hated yourself more as you thought of the class you were failing. Your stomach churned and your chest tightened uncomfortably at the thought of everything closing in on you—the late schoolwork, your missed shifts, a dirty apartment, the unanswered calls from friends. Suddenly you couldn’t breathe and you cried out, “Please go!” Slamming the door, you slid down against the cool wood and sobbed, chest heaving from the force. It was just too much, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that.

————————————————————-

On the other side of the door, Jake stood in stunned silence as he tried to process what had just happened. Although you had told him you were fine, he knew better.  Years of living with his mother and sisters had taught him “fine” usually meant far from it. That’s when he decided if you wouldn’t talk to him, he would go to Phoenix. She’d known you long before you started dating him and he hoped she would know what was wrong. 

When he arrived at Phoenix’s house, she welcomed him in, offering a cold beer and a kind smile. While she wanted to help, she also knew it wasn’t her place to divulge any sensitive information without your consent. Trying to be a good friend to both of you, she listened to Jake’s fears, then gave the best advice she could under the circumstances. “She’ll open up in her own time, Jake. Just be there for her and listen to her when she's ready to talk,” Phoenix said.

“Yeah, ok. I can do that,” Jake said nodding in agreement. Looking Phoenix in the eye he admitted, “I love this woman, Phoenix. Tell me I’ve still got a shot with her.”

Her lip curled up in a half smile as she realized he was completely smitten. It was nice to see her cocky friend humbled by love. As she sat enjoying that privileged information, she was interrupted by Jake clearing his throat, reminding her he was waiting for an answer.  She rolled her eyes as she realized she was about to stroke his ego. “Yeah, she loves you too, Bagman,” she answered. 

—————————————————————-

Jake went home to rest and tried again the next morning, coming back to your house with breakfast in one hand and a large, fragrant bouquet of flowers in the other. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but he genuinely wanted to hear what you had to say. He felt his heart thud against his ribcage as he waited for you to answer the door, wondering if you would slam it in his face again. When you appeared in the doorway, he noticed you still seemed tired, but less tense. 

“Jake, what are you doing here?” you asked in a weary voice.

“Came to bring my favorite girl breakfast in bed,” he said with a big smile. “Can I come in…please?” He added the last words hesitantly and you couldn’t help but soften at his easy tone. He’d already seen the disastrous state of your apartment so you decided to let him in. You nodded slowly and opened the door to him, glancing the beautiful bouquet of flowers for the first time. The sight of the pinks and greens made your heart stir and you leaned forward to smell them. A tear gathered at the corner of your eye as you whispered, “thank you.” 

Jake looked at you, slightly taken aback at the show of gratitude and replied, “You’re welcome, sweetheart.” He placed the items on the counter before tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. He looked at you, trying to determine what you were thinking as he watched you pick at your cuticles. He'd noticed it was a nervous habit of yours, but recently it had gotten much worse. “I’d really like to understand what you’re going through, but I don’t want to push you. I’m here if you want to talk or eat. Hell, I’ll just sit here and stare at the wall with you if you want,” he chuckled nervously, picking up your hand to hold it in his larger one. His palm was rough, but warm and you closed your eyes at the feeling of it radiating through you. You squeezed his hand and he squeezed back. “I just want to be close to you,” he admitted, leaning his forehead into yours. 

You inhaled a shaky breath, feeling the tears hot and heavy against your eyelids. You didn’t want them to fall, but they were already forcing their way out and running down your cheeks. For the first time in weeks you felt safe and you let go. You collapsed into Jake’s arms and cried as he stroked your back. The gentle touch of his fingertips running over you, rubbing patterns into the aching muscles of your back and arms released a torrent of emotion you feared would scare him away, but he continued to hold you tightly. 

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like this, but when you pulled away to wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your sweatshirt you heard the thoughts come together in your mind. You guided him to sit next to you on the sofa and the words fell from your lips easily, explaining how you’d suffered depression since you were a teenager. Despite medication, infrequent episodes like this one came and went like a summer storm, leaving you paralyzed by anxiety and fear.

It was especially bad when you had a boyfriend because they were never able to understand it. Men liked to fix things and when they realized there was no quick fix for you, they were out the door. It left you feeling worse than before because you were convinced something inside you was irretrievably broken. With a harsh gulp, you told him how worried you were of disappointing him now by confiding all this in him, letting him see the real you. When you ran out of things to say, you hugged a cushion, anxiously biting your lower lip and wondering how he might respond.

“Sweetheart, thank you for trusting me enough to tell me all of this. I’m really sorry to hear you were treated that way," he said running a hand along your cheek and wiping a tear away with the pad of his thumb. "But I'm glad I get to be your man now because I think you're an amazing, intelligent, kind, brave woman. The more I get to know about you, the more I fall in love with you." He leaned in and you felt him brush his lips across yours in a soft, gentle kiss that was meant as much for affection as reassurance. As he pulled away, he looked deeply into your eyes as he said, "I’m going to be here for you whenever you need me, alright?” You searched his handsome face, etched with concern, and settled back on the warmth of his green eyes, drawing you in and holding you there in a silent promise of protection from the storm. 

------------------------

Tag list:

@floraroselaughter

@rikki-b-lake

@alanadetigy

@writeroutoftime

@deans-ch-ch-cherrypie

@peakyrogers

@justalonelyslytherin

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@can-this-be-a-fanfic

@amysteryspot

@dreamlandcreations 

@blue-aconite

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@cycbaby

@sweetlittlegingy

[youbloodymadgenius]

Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 4

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello’s masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite , who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310 , @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria . Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 2877

Additional note: This is the final chapter. There'll be an epilogue, but you'll have to wait a bit because there are a lot of challenges I've signed up for and I'm way behind schedule.

Enjoy 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

Devastated and angry at the world. That's how Ivar is feeling.

Holed up in his room since the night before, and despite Lagertha incessant requests, he doesn’t plan to come out, not now at least. Come to think of it, he might as well decide never to leave his room again.

He can't stand the idea of facing his brothers. He doesn't want to have to tell them about his failure. He doesn't want to endure Ubbe's pity and condescendence. He doesn't want to see the look of triumph on Sigurd's face. The thought makes his stomach lurch while at the same time a murderous urge creeps into his mind. No, he definitely can't see his brothers.

Surprisingly, and unlike Lagertha, his brothers have left him alone, as if sensing that entering his room would be as moving into a minefield. Only Hvitserk had taken a chance earlier, cautiously poking his head through the door. His disapproving look obvious when his eyes had taken in the scene before him, Ivar's belongings scattered on the floor, some of them smashed into pieces.

"I got you a chocolate muffin from the kitchen, baby bro," he had explained, putting it on a nearby shelf, and it had almost brought a smile to Ivar's face. To Hvitserk, there's no predicament that can't be improved with comfort food.

"Look, Ivar," scratching his neck, Hvitserk had then said, "I don't know what happened and I don't want to pressure you. You tell me when you're ready, if you are. But I'm here, okay? Whatever the time of day or night, you don't have to be alone if you don't want to. If I'm upstairs, just call me, okay?" With these words, he was gone, the door closed.

Ivar can't get the events of the previous evening out of his mind. Like a waking nightmare, they are playing over and over in his head: how he had freaked out when he heard the beeps; the confused and then so disappointed look you had given him when he sputtered his need to leave; finally, his shameful escape into the night.

What could he have done? What should he have done?

He does know the answer. He should have been more cautious. He should have checked the time, asked for your number and just walked away.

On the other hand, what difference would it have made? He would still have no future with you, right? He would still be a cripple, and you would still be... you... perfect... too good for him.

So yeah, he had run away like a coward. He lets out a bitter chuckle to himself. Run away? Who is he kidding? He hadn't run away, that would have been too easy. Cripples don't run away. Without his cane – why the fuck did he leave it behind?? – he had pathetically limped away, stumbling, his feet sinking into the sand. He had still been on the beach when the battery had died. He had had no other choice but to crawl like a worm the rest of the way, silently praying to the gods that the darkness of the night would prevent you from seeing him like this.

Tears of despair run down his cheeks for the umpteenth time. He's used to feeling humiliated, but feeling humiliated and heartbroken simultaneously is really too much to take. He feels like he's dying from the inside over and over again, cursing himself for wanting to attend the party, for wanting to see you again. He should never have let his walls down, he should never have dared to hope. What was he thinking? He may have walked, and even danced with you, but at the end of the day, he still is a pitiable cripple with stupid, crooked legs, in love with a girl way out of his league.

If he's being honest, that's what hurts the most. He now realizes how delusional he had been. Holding on to a dead dream for years, he had not forseen the painful yet unavoidable reality check. And now, it's like he's been hit by a train. Because there's no denying it, dreaming of a life with you is no longer an option, not after last night. And even though it's almost unbearable, he knows now he has to let go of you, of the idea of you and him being together. As much as this mere thought is devastating, he has no other choice. He has to stop fooling himself, for his own sanity, if nothing else.

Giving a guttural cry, much like that of a wounded animal, Ivar doesn't hear when the front doorbell rings. Not that he would have reacted even if he had heard it, too busy wallowing in self-pity.

***

"Thank you for having us here on such short notice, my dear." Your uncle states joyfully, his eyes sparkling, as Lagertha greets him with a handshake and a tight-lipped smile. Even though you don't know why, it's obvious that she's not his biggest fan.

Your uncle, who doesn't seem to notice – or doesn't care, you're not sure – keeps giving her a beaming smile. "My niece here," he turns his head toward you for a short moment, "has a weird request. She met a boy yesterday, during the party. He lost something and my sweet Y/N has been adamant since this morning that she wants to find him and personally return it to him. We were wondering," he turns his gaze in the direction of the couch, "if it could be one of your wards."

There are indeed three young men, half sprawled on the couch, who get up as one when Lagertha gives them a stern look. If you vaguely remember having seen them before, a single glance is enough for you to know that the one you're looking for is not among them.

You're on the verge of saying so but your uncle doesn't give you a chance to. "See boys," he unceremoniously grabs the cane you're holding behind your back, "here is the lost item. A cane! Fairly uncommon, if you ask me. Anyway... Does this... thing belong to any of you?"

Since you know it doesn't, you're surprised when two of the guys both take a step forward. "Actually, it's mine," they say in unison, each of them only then becoming aware that the other is speaking.

Dumbstruck, you look at one then the other successively. They've got a lot of nerve! You know they're lying, and you would have known it even if these two idiots hadn't spoken at the same time. They just look nothing like your handsome stranger – if he's a stranger.

"Sigurd, you know it's mine!"

"Don't play dumb, you never use a cane, Ubbe! Whereas me, I do sometimes. Everyone knows artists tend to be eccentric, right?"

The blondest one – Sigurd if you heard right – points his finger at a guitar leaning against the wall and then winks at you, "I'm a musician, you know?" You don't even have time to roll your eyes as the other one – Ubbe? – yells, his nostrils flaring.

"Shut up Sig, you're so full of shit! You know I've got a sprained ankle!"

"A sprained ankle, no kidding? Who did a ten-kilometer run today, huh? It's not me! So, you are the one going to shut up, you fucking douchebag!"

It's almost funny to watch them arguing back and forth. If you weren't so pissed off, you'd laugh. But right now, you're mostly mad at them. Their blatant lies make your blood boil with anger.

Are they really thinking you're a complete idiot? That you can be fooled so easily? Who do they think they are? Who do they think you are? Some stupid chick ready to fall for their good looks? If they think that, they're kidding themselves.

"You're the fucking douchebag, Sig!! Don’t forget I'm the oldest!"

"And what's the difference, huh? You can't have all the girls, Ubbe! Keep fucking Margrethe and just let me be! Stop being a controlling asshole!"

"STOP!!!! BOTH OF YOU!!!"

Lagertha's shout is deafening and if looks could kill, these two morons would be lying dead on the floor right here, right now.

"Y/N, my dear," Lagertha gives you an apologetic smile, "I'm so sorry for that. I swear they usually know how to behave, better than that at least. Guess they don't know how to handle your striking beauty. Now sweetheart, tell me, is one of these two knuckleheads the one you were with last night?"

The silence that falls on the room after her question is so complete that you could hear a pin drop. Acutely aware that all eyes are on you, you shyly lower your gaze, shaking your head slightly, as you clasp your hands over your belly. You eventually speak, your eyes meeting Lagertha's, and you can see she knows what you're going to say. "No, the guy I was with last night is not one of them."

"How can you be so sure?" Sigurd's voice is soft and tentative now, and Ubbe adds, seemingly for once in agreement with his younger brother, "yeah, how can you? It was pretty dark after all."

You give them a smile. "How can I be so sure? You mean beside the fact that you obviously don't need a cane? Neither of you?" The third brother, who still hasn't opened his mouth, chuckles, giving you a thumbs up. "Look, I appreciate your interest, I really do, but neither of you are the one I am looking for. Therefore," you look at your uncle, "we should leave, don't you think?" Checking the time on your watch, you shrug. "What about the Eyvindsson family? Didn't you tell me about three brothers? We may have time to go and see them tonight if we hurry."

Your uncle nods, handing you back the cane. "You're right, Y/N, we should leave." Taking two steps forward, he grabs Lagertha's hand. "Sorry dear, we will waste no more of your time."

You're about to thank her when one of the boys clears his throat. "Ahem..."

Turning your head, you're surprised to see the third brother, the silent one, raising his hand. "I think I might know who this cane belongs to." Frowning, he glances at his brothers. "And you both know it too."

"Shut up, Hvitserk!" Sigurd spits, clenching his hands into fists. "Don't bring the fucking cripple into the conversation."

"Sigurd! Keep your mouth shut!" Lagertha glares at him for several long seconds then her face softens as she looks at Hvitserk, placing a hand on his shoulder. "What are you trying to say, Hvitserk? Do you think this cane belongs to your baby brother?"

Hvitserk nods. "I know it does, actually."

"Come on, Hvit, you're talking nonsense. It cannot be, it just cannot. That guy was standing. It wasn't our brother. Our brother wasn't there last night." Ubbe stubbornly insists, but Hvitserk just shakes his head.

"Of course, he was. I saw him. And don't bullshit me, Ubbe, you saw him too. With Y/N." Hvitserk states. That's when you realize that your palms are sweating and your pulse is racing.

Hvitserk keeps going, now speaking to his guardian. "I know what I saw, Lagertha. It was him. I don't know how, but he was standing, Ubbe is right. He was even walking. It may sound weird but I swear, it was him."

Lagertha nods. "I believe you, Hvitserk." A beaming smile spreads across her lips and she tilts her head. "I wouldn't be surprised if Floki had something to do with such a miracle. Go get your brother, Hvitserk, please."

Your heart leaps at these words, you're barely able to contain your excitement and as you let out a nervous chuckle, you cannot help but jump for joy. Needless to say, Ubbe and Sigurd seem much less enthusiastic than you.

***

Reluctantly following his brother, Ivar mutters under his breath, "you're pissing me off, Hvit. I'm fucking not in the mood for whatever you have in mind."

Hvitserk pays him no mind though, a small smile dancing on his lips. "Trust me, baby bro, you'll be in the mood."

Ivar wants to protest, or maybe just turn around and wheel back to his room but all at once the sound of your voice reaches his ears and he stops, frozen in place, his eyes wide open. He may have stopped breathing.

Patting his shoulder reassuringly, Hvitserk whispers, "It's Y/N, baby bro, but I have a feeling you already know. She's here for you, she was looking for you, Ivar. Go..." before giving a single push to his brother's wheelchair, his right hand on the backrest.

Ivar honestly doesn't know how he manages to wheel himself into the living room. What he does know, however, is that you're suddenly standing right in front of him. The heart stopping smile you flash him blows all the air out of his lungs, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, and the outside world – Lagertha, his brothers, Harald – ceases to exist.

A little voice tells him he should be feeling self-conscious with his hair all messy and wearing worn sweatpants, but he can't bring himself to care, not when you kneel in front of him with stars in your eyes.

"Here you are, finally," you breathe, gently placing a hand on his knee. Ivar didn't know until now that one could die of happiness, but that's exactly what he's feeling and he wouldn't trade it for anything.

Swallowing, he blinks several times. When he speaks, his voice trembles, his bottom lip quivering. "Hello Y/N, you were... looking for... for me?" He has trouble getting the words out, his nervous fingers fidgeting on his lap.

Grabbing both his hands in yours, you nod, your thumbs stroking his knuckles tenderly. "I was, yes, and for a very long time."

Shyly lowering his head, Ivar, almost feeling dizzy, can't wrap his head around your words. They're just too good to be true. "But... why?"

"Why?" You giggle, your laughing eyes lighting up your face, and he's positive, you're even more beautiful like this. "Isn't it obvious? I want to know more about you, what's your favorite color, what you eat for breakfast, where you see yourself in ten years. I just want to spend time with you, Ivar."

'Ivar' You've just said his name and it's like the sweetest music to his ears. He can't believe it. Wow. "You... You recognized me?" There's so much hope and joy in his voice, he cringes.

You shrug, your smile never leaving your lips. "I wasn't sure at first. You've changed a lot." Your hand cups his cheek. The sensation on his skin is so overwhelming he has to hold back the tears threatening to gush. Yet, he can't help but think you're speaking about his legs.

He grits his teeth. "Yeah... Standing tall can change a man."

"No! no, no, no," you retort without missing a beat, "That's not what I meant. In my memory you still looked like you did when we were ten, but look at you now, all grown up! Your hair was so short back then." Reaching out, you brush a strand of hair back and tuck it behind his ear before letting your fingers run slowly down and up his bulging biceps, your hand finally lingering on his forearm, "Plus, you clearly work out a lot. So, yeah, I thought it was you, but I wasn't sure. When we were dancing last night, I thought I'd ask you right after, but then you left and... well... I didn't have a chance..."

Ivar wraps his fingers around yours, a frown creasing his forehead. "About that, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have left like–"

You shush him, holding a finger to his lips. "It doesn't matter, Ivar. You don't have to explain. All that matters is that I found you." Standing up, you lean forward and gently kiss his cheek and he feels like he's floating. Intertwining his fingers with yours, you whisper in his ear, "I reckon we got some lost time to make up, you and me. Can we go stargazing now?"

Hearing this makes Ivar's insides turn to jelly. Barely able to think, he is on cloud nine and wishes with all his heart never to come back down to earth again. But despite the daze, despite the fog in his head, despite the blinding happiness, he knows one thing: no matter how many stars he sees, you'll be the brightest one.

"Yes, Y/N, you're right," bringing your hand to his mouth, he gives it a kiss, "let's go stargazing."

And as he leaves the room, you walking alongside him with your hand on his shoulder, his heart filled with joy and wonder, he doesn't miss the thumbs up Hvitserk gives him, nor the scowl on Ubbe's and Sigurd's faces.

For a fleeting second, he thinks he should – he could – taunt them. They deserve to be laughed at, don't they? But then, he realizes he doesn't have time for that. The time for happiness has come, and it's far more important.

Giving you a beaming smile, Ivar inhales deeply before releasing a sigh of satisfaction. Yeah. Happiness. Happiness sounds good.

🛡⚔️🛡

Ivar’s taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom @adrille88

Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings @heavenly1927 @dini73

[tsumusamu]

nice receive [miya atsumu x fem!reader]

genre: fluff and (once again, a sad attempt at) humor

word count: 3.8k

summary: eight months into your relationship, atsumu takes you to meet his family. things don't go as planned, but of course, everything ends up alright in the end anyway. alternatively, miya atsumu adores you and his family thinks it's easy to see why.

warnings: uhhh implied sexual content at the end but it is like barely there ok

commission for @ muppetz (it wont let me tag for some reason ugh) thank you so much for commissioning me!

a/n: this ended up being way longer than the word count requested but that’s no one’s fault but my own because i dont know when to shut the FUCK up anyways i hope this one shot is enjoyable lol

content under the cut!

You literally never thought that you would ever end up in this situation.

"C'mon babe, why the long face? Ya nervous or somethin'?"

"No." You purse your lips, huffily averting your gaze from your boyfriend's smirking face.

"Ya don't needa be like that." Atsumu drapes an arm across your shoulder, pecking your forehead as a sort of reassurance. "No one could ever hate this cute face, after all." He accentuates his words by squishing your cheeks, drawing out a yelp of protest from you.

"If you keep talking like this, you're gonna jinx it, you know." Your words come out softer and more hesitant than intended, and you startled even yourself at how utterly anxious you sound.

"Yer gonna be fine. Trust me, I wouldn’t take just any random girl to meet my folks, and they’re well aware of that." Atsumu ruffles your hair.

"I just... I hope they're not..." You pause for a moment, trying to find the right word. "...Disappointed?" You grimace when your boyfriend suddenly throws his head back in such voracious laughter, that you swear you saw a few hysterical tears.

"Are ya jokin'?" he all but wheezes. "Yer the libero for the national volleyball team, for God's sake. If anythin', I'd be the disappointment here."

"'Tsumu — " you start, but he interrupts you by pulling you in for a comforting hug.

"Don't worry yer pretty head anymore, got it?" he murmurs into your ear. "Yer wonderful, and I couldn't be luckier to have ya. My parents are gonna love ya. Honest."

A small smile tugs at your lips as you reach around his back to hug him back. "I hope so."

A year ago, if someone had told you that you would end up having Miya Atsumu introduce you to his family as his girlfriend, you would've laughed until your ass fell off and your stomach ached like no tomorrow.

You had been absolutely overjoyed when you were chosen for the women's national volleyball team, and you were so eager to start playing with your new teammates that you had decided to attend the national team's training camp without hesitation despite your recent knee injury at the time. However, you completely overlooked the fact that you would be working with the men's team as well, which would've been completely fine... if not for Miya Atsumu.

When you first met Atsumu, he was the cocky, annoying little shit of a setter for the Japanese men's national volleyball team, someone who you were stuck training with for the next two weeks.

You still remember the first words he ever spoke to you.

"The hell are ya doin' there, lil libero? If yer not gonna be able to save the easiest ones, then ya might as well sub out."

You also remember the first thought you had about him.

'Prick.'

And the first words you spoke to him.

"Can't you look at this — " You had gestured angrily to the knee brace supporting you. "And take a fucking hint, or what?"

He had sent some unapologetic, biting words right back at you and that marked the beginning of the time you have had the utmost pleasure of knowing Miya Atsumu. The two of you had bickered rather relentlessly (not too unlike literal children, despite the both of you being well into your twenties) throughout the rest of the camp, and by the end, for some unknown reason through some unknown method, he ended up with your number.

He started texting you constantly, and as much as you tried to convince your foolish self that he was just a nuisance, you found yourself responding to his messages like an idiot anyway. Throughout the next few months, you learned that Atsumu was far more than just his overly confident demeanor; he's genuinely kind-hearted, down-to-earth, and actually kinda hilarious. And eventually — neither of you quite knew how — the two of you were staring across a table at each other in a fancy restaurant as if daring the other to blink and lose an unspoken game, on a first date that neither of you thought would go as well as it did.

A little over eight months into your happy and committed relationship, Atsumu suggested that the two of you go to his hometown in Hyogo for a weekend to visit his family. You had immediately agreed with his idea, excited to meet his parents and twin brother in person, but now that he's leading you out of your shared hotel room to go do just that, your stomach's knotting uncomfortably.

Atsumu's been nothing but supportive and comforting ever since you started showing that you're nervous to meet his family. He was always happy to provide a never-ending flow of cheesy words and warm hugs, but you're genuinely afraid of embarrassing yourself. You want to impress his family and not have them see you as undeserving of their son, who you truly care for from the bottom of your heart. Atsumu is your first long-term boyfriend, and you would jump off your roof if you managed to mess anything up during the visit to his folks.

The taxi ride to Atsumu's childhood home doesn't do much to soothe your nerves either, with you fiddling with your fingers the entire way through while Atsumu makes small talk with the driver. As the cab pulls up to the address that your boyfriend had provided earlier, you instinctively clench your fists so hard that you think you might bleed.

A look of alarm crosses Atsumu's face as he notices that you're still just as anxious as you were when you left the hotel earlier. He thought that the ride to his parents' house would give you some time to cool down, but that had clearly not been the case. His eyebrows furrow in concern as he reaches over to grab one of your hands in his, giving you a comforting squeeze.

"Just breathe, darlin'." He runs his thumb over the shallow nail marks embedded in your skin. "If it means anything to ya, my mom's a huge fan of yers. For real. I didn't tell ya this before, but she's especially excited to meet ya. Keeps yappin' to me askin' how I pulled ya." You flush.

"R-Really?" you stammer, wide-eyed.

"Really. Who wouldn't be a fan yers?" Atsumu grins, pecking your nose. "See, ya got nothin' to be worried about. Just chill out and be yerself, 'kay?" You nod, some of the tension releasing from your shoulders as Atsumu leads you out of the cab, hand still clutching yours.

You're feeling a little better now, though your thoughts are still running through your head at the pace of a mile a minute as you watch Atsumu pay the taxi driver and thank him for the ride. Atsumu's mother is my fan? Your ears start to heat up. I hope I can somehow live up to her expectations of me…

“Ma! We’re here!” Atsumu shouts at the top of lungs approximately one second after simultaneously ringing the doorbell and obnoxiously pounding on the door.

“Comin’, comin’, ya brat!” A feminine, yet strong voice hollers in return. You freeze on the spot, your mind going blank once again. It’s happening. It’s finally happening.

The door aggressively swings open, revealing a middle-aged woman wearing a pink apron and carrying a wooden spatula in her hand. Her dark hair is pulled into a bun away from her face and her eyes, the same chocolate brown as Atsumu’s, are gleaming with annoyance. She briefly glares at Atsumu for his rowdy entrance before her gaze catches onto you, and her entire face lights up with excitement.

“(L/N) (Y/N)! It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

“M-Mrs. Miya,” you stammer out, trying your best to smile but you’re sure it looked more like a wince. “It’s good to m-meet you t-too.”

"Aw, hey now. What happened to my feisty girl? It's not like ya to be so lame.” Atsumu lays his forearm on your head, effectively using you as an armrest. You jerk away, scowling.

“Shut the hell up, asshat,” you snap without thinking. About half a second later, regret slams into your body like a truck. Oh, shit. I just called my boyfriend an asshat in front of his mother. You were about to run off into the streets in utter embarrassment if not for Mrs. Miya letting out a hearty laugh way too similar to her son’s and linking arms with you.

“No need to look so scared, dear. I don’t bite. And it’s good to see that yer willin’ to put this brat in his place.”

“Ma!” Atsumu whines, pouting petulantly.

“Yer really losin’ out with him though, y’know,” Mrs. Miya whispers to you as she leads you into the house by your arm. “I’ve got another son; Atsumu’s twin. Osamu’s quite well-behaved. If yer just likin’ the looks, he would be the better option.” You can tell she’s joking by the merry twinkle in her eyes, but instead of humoring her you end up shaking your head with a quiet chuckle.

“I think Atsumu’s perfectly good for me.” The two of you pause to watch Atsumu practically sprint into the kitchen, and a few moments later there’s an agitated yell as proof that he was on his way to annoy his brother. You smile. “He makes me really happy, Mrs. Miya. You raised him well.”

“Aren’t ya just the sweetest thing?” Mrs. Miya coos at you, pinching your left cheek. “And so pretty too. I swear ya could probably clobber my brat at volleyball as well. You and yer teammate… ah, Miss Amanai? The two of you always caught my eye while I watched yer matches. Make sure ya let her know.”

You blush a little and thank her, making a mental note to tell Kanoka that. She’d probably find it extremely amusing, especially since she was the one who had given Atsumu your number in the first place (which, as you had found out months later, was because he had practically groveled at her feet multiple times. Dumbass.)

“Come meet my husband, (Y/N).” Mrs. Miya leads you into the living room, where an older, balding man with rimmed glasses is quietly flipping through a book. He gives a start upon hearing your entrance, clearing his throat and sitting up straight.

“Ah, hello!” Mr. Miya greets you. “I’ve heard a lot about you! From both Atsumu and the missus.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Miya.” You nod once in a respectful manner.

“It’s about time that he settled down with a nice girl. Make sure ya keep him in line though, got it, missy?”

“Of course I w — “ you start, but Mrs. Miya is already dragging you towards the kitchen. You smile apologetically at Mr. Miya, and he just laughs and waves.

“Osamu’s makin’ dinner right now. He is such a hardworkin’ and dedicated boy. Both of them are, really,” she rambles. “But Osamu sure can cook a mean meal. He and his twin always used to fight over who’s the better cook. But I betcha Atsumu hasn’t touched the stove since he left for university years ago.”

You debate telling her that Atsumu had made quite a decent meal for the two of you just last week to celebrate your eight-month anniversary (which you hadn’t even known he remembered), but before you can formulate the right words in your head you’re suddenly shoved in the path of an unfamiliar man. Well, not really unfamiliar. He has the same face as the boyfriend who you see every day, after all.

Miya Osamu is (as expected) the literal carbon copy of Atsumu; same strong eyebrows, same hooded eyes, same angular jawline. The only thing that easily sets them apart is his black, ruffled mess of hair in stark contrast with your boyfriend’s bleached blonde.

Mrs. Miya pulls Atsumu away from the two of you, demanding that he help her with some mundane task, leaving you and Osamu by yourselves in the kitchen.

An easy smile graces his lips as he sticks out his hand. “Hey, I’m Osamu. Honored to finally meet the famous (L/N) (Y/N).” You smile back, gripping his hand firmly and shaking.

“And I’m honored to meet the famous ‘Samu.” At your words, Osamu bursts out laughing.

“Man, I don’t really let a lot of people call me that, y’know? But if yer gonna be part of the family, you could be an exception.”

“F-Family?” You pause, your sudden confidence dissipating as fast as it had come.

“Naw, no pressure. Just sayin’.” Osamu casually continues with his task of shaping onigiri. “I can tell he really likes ya.” You raise your eyebrows in curiosity without entirely meaning to. “I mean, we’re twins, it’s like a sixth sense. And also he never shuts up about ya when we text or call.”

“I hope you’re hearing all good things?” you quip jokingly.

“Oh, for sure. If I didn’t know who you were I’d think that he’s talkin’ about the reincarnation of a goddess with the way he talks.”

“Seriously?” You snort, and Osamu just laughs.

“So I’d like to ask ya the favor of continuin’ to take care of him. Guy’s just a huge ass baby. I can obviously see that yer good for him, though. He wouldn’t have stayed for so long if he wasn’t serious.”

The two of you briefly glance at Atsumu helping his mother set the table. They’re currently debating over whether Atsumu should go back to his natural hair color and “Stop makin’ yer hair look like fuckin’ straw!”

“He is a huge ass baby,” you start seriously, causing Osamu to smirk. “But he’s an honest and good person, so I’m not too bothered. I’ll take care of him, promise.”

“Thanks.” Osamu sighs, glancing rather fondly in his brother’s direction. “He’s an asshole, but at least he’s a redeemable asshole. I’m glad he’s finally got someone around to take care of him. Makes us all feel a little more relieved since he’s away from home.”

You suddenly feel warm inside.

Atsumu had been right; you truly didn’t have anything to be afraid of. The Miyas have been nothing but kind and welcoming so far, and they even seem to already have a positive opinion of you.

“Can ya help me carry these to the table?” Osamu holds out a plate of freshly-made onigiri.

“Ah, sure!” you accept hurriedly, taking the plate from him with careful hands. You take slow, calculated steps towards the dining room; the last thing you want is to accidentally drop any of the food.

Atsumu and his parents are already waiting in the dining room, and they all look up at you expectantly as you approach them with the onigiri plate in hand.

“Why, thank you, dear!” Mrs. Miya chirps. “Helpin’ Osamu out! How sweet of ya — “

She’s cut off as disaster strikes.

You trip on your last step to the table, causing a single onigiri to tumble off the plate and towards the floor. Your mouth drops open wide as you practically slam the plate down on the table and in practical slow-motion, watch the onigiri plummet down, down, down —

Then you dive.

You dive towards the floor, in the same manner as you do when you’re digging for a volleyball.

And you catch the rice ball in one hand, laying flat on your stomach. You have a moment of mental celebration; yes, you caught the onigiri! Then you realize that you look like a fucking idiot as you lay face down with one hand extended and clutching a rice ball like it’s your lifeline.

There’s a few seconds of agonizing silence.

You want the earth to swallow you whole.

There’s no way that you could ever show your face in front of Atsumu’s family or even Atsumu himself now; God you’ve never been more embarrassed in your life, and over an onigiri too —

“Nice receive!” Atsumu suddenly bellows, clapping his hands boisterously. “(L/N) does it again!”

His brother, who’s standing a few feet behind you with a platter of chicken skewers, pumps his free fist into the air and joins in with a “Hell yeah!”

Mr. Miya starts laughing the same loud Miya laugh that you’ve heard way too many times today, and his sons soon follow suit. Shame is still flooding your body, but now you’re realizing just how ridiculous the whole situation is and you resist the urge to smile at your own stupidity. As soon as Mrs. Miya recovers from her initial surprise, she comes to help you up, and you can tell that she’s doing her best not to laugh as well.

“Are ya okay, dear?” she briefly inspects you for any sign of injury.

“All good here, Mrs. Miya.” You smile, genuinely and comfortably, as Atsumu comes behind you to wrap his arms around you and peck your cheek, still chuckling with a small note of pride. “All good.”

-

“See?” Atsumu’s smug as hell as the two of you enter the hotel elevator on your way up to your room. Osamu had dropped you off so there would be no need for another cab. “I told ya that they’d fuckin’ love ya.”

“Why’re you rubbing in something like this?” You scoff, dodging when he tries to pull you into a crushing hug.

“Because I was right.” He smirks. You roll your eyes to heaven.

“Well, you can’t blame me for being nervous! I still can’t believe that none of them got upset at me for diving for a rice ball at the dinner table.” You groan, hiding your face in your hands.

“Nah, why the hell would they? It was cool. Yer cool, Miss National Team Libero.” He laughs, reaching for you again and this time you let him bring you close to him. “Besides, like I said before, who could ever resist yer pretty lil face?”

“You’re a hopeless asshole.” You sigh, and Atsumu of course just chuckles, his laughter vibrating against your ear as you press yourself into his chest.

“I’m yer hopeless asshole.” He pecks the top of your head. “C’mon, babe. It’s our floor.”

You hadn’t realized how tired you are until the two of you enter your hotel room and you see the large, inviting bed. You practically jump onto it, burying your face into a pillow. “Goodnight…” you mumble sleepily.

“Ya gotta go shower and brush yer teeth first, idiot.” A pillow smacks you in the side of the head, and you leap up with a cry of surprise. “Damn, don’t be so loud, sweetheart. It’s late, y’know. Don’t wanna get a noise complaint like last night.” You turn bright red at the reminder.

“Shut u-up,” you retort. “I told you that we shouldn’t have tried to do it on the balcony.”

“It was fun, though, y’know! An experience. And ya sounded like you were enjoyin’ it, anyway.” He chucks another pillow at you, and you yelp as it nails you in the face. “Now get yer cute ass over here, we’re gonna shower.”

“You can’t make me.” You stubbornly lay back down and close your eyes, and you had peace for all but ten seconds before Atsumu’s plucking you off the bed and settling you into his arms bridal-style. Your eyes shoot open in shock and you flail desperately. “Put me down!”

“No can do. I’m not sleepin’ next to yer stinky self tonight, darlin’.” Atsumu laughs as you scowl.

“The floor’s always open for you,” you snap.

“Aw, yer no fun.” He steals a kiss from you in the blink of an eye; the only evidence of there being contact at all is a tingling feeling on your lips. You feel your heart melt just a little more.

“Fine. After we shower, we go straight to bed. Got it?”

“ And brush our teeth. Yer mornin’ breath is bad enough.” He lets out quite an unpleasant squawk when you smack him lightly in the shoulder. “Alright, sorry, sorry.”

“Is this just your excuse to see me naked?” you tease him as he sets you down on the bathroom counter before immediately removing his shirt to reveal his muscled torso. He grins wolfishly at you and shrugs.

“And if it is?” Atsumu’s eyes are zeroed in on the small hickey he had left right below your collarbone last night, which is now visible thanks to the way your shirt had rumpled after he had practically manhandled you into the bathroom.

“Well, I won’t complain.” You follow his gaze down to your neck, before glancing back up to meet his eyes and raise an eyebrow at him. “If you’re going to make it worth my time.”

About an hour later, the two of you are lying in bed together, effectively tuckered out and finally ready to sleep. Atsumu’s strong arms are wrapped tightly around you like a protective cocoon as you snuggle your face against his chest. The slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat rocks you towards dreamland, and all the worries from the past day are slipping away.

“Hey, ‘Tsumu,” you mumble against his chest. He grunts tiredly.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

There’s a small silence.

“...Thanks,” you finally say after a beat.

“Huh? For what?” he quips.

“For being patient with me today, even though I was so nervous. And for taking me to meet your family.” You crane your head to look up at him, contentment adorning your features. “I had a good time. I hope they don’t hate the idea of me coming around again sometime.”

Atsumu smiles that familiar smile, the smile filled with affection that others rarely get to see. His eyes are almost half-mooned with joy, his lips are curved up in genuine adoration, and his cheeks are flushed with color. You saw this smile for the first time when he set an incredibly low ball at training camp, earning the awe of everyone in the room, including yourself. Never did you think that you would ever have this expression of pure love aimed at you, nor did you think it would fill you with so much happiness every time you had the blessing of seeing it. He says nothing for a while, suddenly resorting to trailing kisses all over your face. You let him, closing your eyes peacefully as he showers you with his love, ending with one final peck to your nose.

“I'm sure they'd like to have you around again.”

And if Atsumu continues playing his cards right, he thinks there might be a possibility that in the next five or so years, you could truly become part of the family with a glittering ring on your finger.

Only time will tell if that possibility will ever come to fruition, but as you tilt your head up to give him one last kiss on the lips and whisper those three words to him, he knows for sure that he wants to continue building towards that future with you.

“I love you too.” He lets his eyes fall shut as well, before resting his chin atop your head and savoring the warmth of your body against his.

Only time will tell.

-

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[melody-of-lost-souls]

Howdie!

So you know how SS stans glorify that scene where Sakura said that Sasuke screws her every once in a while?

Well it's all cap, especially since it's not canon 😲😲

Cuz when you think about it, it make no sense. Considering how Sasuke barely pays attention to her, even though she is his "wife" now (only by name I'm pretty sure), and considering how he's barely home, it just makes no sense that he'll go to sleep with her by his own will (I'm pretty sure another reason he doesn't come home is because this girl will guilt trip him into having smex, it just makes sense that she does that 🤷🏽‍♀️).

If he looks like he's about to just ball his eyes out just by being in the same home as her, what the crap makes them think that his mindset would change at any point of time? She disgusts him, for Pete's sake🤧🤧

You got our boy looking like he'd rather become a beggar and eat leftovers than being in the same room as her and eating her cooking.. I feel kinda bad for her tho 😲 but then again she's the one who wanted that soooooo.

He literally went out of his way to abandon her with a kid for a whole decade 💀💀. Oh but wait that's totally not a red flag 👍. Because LOGICALLY, OKAY??? IF YOUR HUSBAND LEAVES YOU FOR A DECADE, AND HAS NEVER KISSED YOU, LIKE EVER, AND LOOKS SO DEPRESSED BECAUSE OF YOUR PRESENCE, DOES NOT COME HOME OFTEN, AND HESITATES TO EXPLAIN TO PEOPLE AS TO WHY YOUR FEELINGS AND HIS ARE CONNECTED AND TURNS OUT IT'S BECAUSE OF THE CHILD AND YOUR EXPRESSION IS JUST PURE SADNESS BUT TRY TO HIDE IT BY STUPIDLY SMILING A BIT, MEANS THAT HE'S ALWAYS HAD EYES FOR YOU. HE'S ALWAYS LOOKED AT YOU. ALWAYS DREAMED OF HOLDING YOU IN HIS ARMS! THAT'S WHAT IT MEANS!

Generally, it's just nonsense that he'd sleep with her. Considering the way Salad was born, it is just way too sketchy for me to say that they ever slept together. It doesn't sit right with me. It's weird.

I expect we are thinking about the same scene jaja you mean one that happens during chunin arc right?

If that's the scene, i dont know how can SS glorify that scene since that puts in evidence, AGAIN, how awful as mother Sakura is. Because, besides their horrible and bad reading comprehension, in that scene Sarada was also present and Sakura said "Your father comes on a while, but you dont sense him since he comes at night and leaves early in the morning" then Sarada replies her mother was very easy on him and she makes an embarrased face. Of course SS and dudebros took this as a direct sex confession. The fact is that Sarada was complaining about Sasuke abssense in her life and in the exams, and Sakura to calm her a bit ,said this. Saying well...your father at least come to sleep. Its absurd, since he is on mission...So you will tell me he does from time to time the same ritual to ONLY GO TO SLEEP/ or fuck sakura? But he couldnt do this all the years he left them?

Now think a bit. Is it correct for a mother TO TALK ABOUT HER SEXUAL LIFE, or made any suggestion, TO HER DAUGHTER??? Dont fucking come at me about culture or whatever. This is not okay. This speaks, again, loudly of how bad as a mother Sakura is, not respecting her role, taking her child as "a friend" and sharing intimate content, that her 13 years old child MUST NOT LISTEN. And its not a question about being strong woman, or having a strong responsability or being submissive or a housewife. It is about basic things about the role as a mother you have now.

It s funny that during that arc Sasuke was immensely happy with Boruto, training him and smiling for the litle brat.

Anyway, I also think they never had sex. I cannot swear or say "Kishimoto INTENDED TO DO THIS" becuse im not in the mind of the man. But the narrative and plot of the gaiden is very very suspicious and set a lot of questions and some "hints" maybe? That Sarada wasnt born by the common methods lets say. Its curious, you got a story about CLONES, CHILDREN "MAKING", A LAB THAT "MAKES" CHILDREN, also those children HAVE SHARINGAN which only belongs to Uchihas, and the last uchiha which is Sasuke, OROCHIMARU INVOLVED, KARIN (BIGGEST SS ENEMY) STATED TILL THE LAST MOMENT AS SARADA BIOLOGICAL MOTHER, Naruto the only one TALKING ABOUT LOVE and giving the kid a pep talk that should have been given by Sakura(the mother in question) , A trope that purely belong to divorced-parents- and a big etc. Also considering Sasuke, if he has sex with Naruto ,that's talking too much and would be a hard work of patience. I dont know how SS envision Sasuke as this Christian horny Grey, like...where they took this from? xD Funny that SS thinks that because you had sex( if they ever had once) and have a kid , means immortal love. THey should go out of their bubble, and know the real world.

[quirkyhero]

My OchaCow headcanons

___________________________________________________________________

BACKSTORY AND BACKGROUND:

Cow Ochaku: is a wild thang who is a strong heifer as well as adventurous. She was born and raised in an abusive habitat only ment to breed strong bulls for fighting rings. She's been through some shit, and learned to not take some shit because of it.

Cow Ochaku: this gal was raised and taught that she would breed with bulls when she was old enough to mate, she would be forced to submit to bulls for as long as she could and as long as they would need. She remembered being forced to "watch and learn" of what would be happening when she be came old enough to do the same thing. And them, doing things to her in order for her to get the "hands on process".

Cow Ochaku: by the age of 15 she had thankfully managed to escape thanks to her parents and the instructions they left her. Though sadly she was too weak and had no time to save any others. On her own she ran as far as she could, hiding in the city in always with a black hoodie and sweat pants she stolen from a box.

Cow Ochaku: thankfully enough she was found by a kind human who was kind enough to offer her home and shelter. Seeing as she was starving and cold and fucking exhausted, she took the humans offer, still suspicious of this person not sure weather to trust them or not.

Cow Ochaku: this was of course six years ago, and she had come to love her home with trees and forest surrounding the place. There was two male hybrids that lived beside her, their names are Monama, who's a bull and Kouda who'san ox. Monama, while a bit rude at first and Kouda who was pretty shy and skittish around her. Came to be protective of her over the years, now their all pretty close and good friends.

Cow Ochaku: after a long time of healing and bonding, she came to open up with her human farmers and two male friends. She even worked out and lifted logs and other such heavy things, which in turn gained her muscle. She also became quite the fan of martial arts due to the movies they'd watch together, learning new techniques along with the old farmer and their grandkid that was the same age as she.

Cow Ochaku: she had also come in contact with the internet. . .you can see where this is going. As she grew into a strong young lady, she came to also be comfortable with sex. . . That is to say with bottom boys. She absolutely loved her Monama and Kouda who she helped out with their ruts and explored new things (kinks) and the such together.

Cow Ochaku: threw a family doctor, who is a friend of the farmer had come to the conclusion that she may be infertile, and there was only a low chance of her having her own calf. This to her and the others was heartbreaking news, but nonetheless she still clung to hope that she would have her own calf one day. She was just relieved that the others didn't think less of her like the heifers back at the bad place would have done.

HOW SHE IS WHEN SHE GETS TO THE NEW FARM + WITH THE BULLS , HEIFERS , STAFF AND EVEN CALFS!?:

Cow Ochaku: was excited yet nervous to go on a trip to the new farm she, the bull and ox will be staying at for a year for her farmer friend that's going to be there for a study work trip.

Cow Ochaku: on one hand, she could finally make that bull harem she wanted. But on the other hand there would be thousands of new faces and in an environment thats a little similar to the bad place. In a sense that's there's quite alot of her kind there. But with the reasurement of the old farmer, the two boys and her calmed a bit.

Cow Ochaku: once on the farm and out of the moving vehicle. Ocha(Ochako), Mono(Monama) and Ko(Kouda) all went to explore once everything was signed in and registered. Only for Mono and Ocha to get whistled at and cat called by the bulls. Mono wasn't exactly the standard looking bull with him being smaller and more feminine looking with smaller horns, he was mistaken for a heifer quite alot. So them both being cat called was not a surprise.

Cow Ochaku: Kouda on the other hand, was being ogled at by the heifers that was curious about the newcomers. Kouda is pretty big, after all he is an ox, he's actually almost the same height as Kirishima, and poor baby was sticking very close behind his heifer and bull friend, not really liking the attention.

Cow Ochaku: meanwhile Ocha paid no mind to the ogling and cat calls, she was looking at the bulls that came to look at her and her friend. Debating and thinking of who she would start her "Bull Harem" plan on first.

Cow Ochaku: along they're walk they bump into a charming cowboy named Midoriya Izuku and a handsome bull named Kirishima, both kind and cute and sexy in they're own rights. . . Ocha came to terms with the idea of adding the cowboy to her bull harem plan, and let her mind run a little thinking of ways to ruin him for only a moment as to not be rude.

Cow Ochaku: after that meeting she came to see at one point, cute Little CALFS!!! OH MY GOODNESS! Ocha decided that this farm was fucking amazing. After all, it came with plenty of bulls and cute farmers for her Bull Harem plan. The staff were pretty great and there are even cute little Calfs here to watch and play with if she's aloud.

SOME EXTRA DETAILS ON COW OCHAKO:

Cow Ochaku: is a lover and fighter, this as I said came for her difficult past and trauma as well as her new beginning on her home land where she met her boys and humans. So she can be pretty intense, as well as straight forward.

Sometimes she scares the bulls with her strength and stamina, alot of them can't keep up with her during her exploration in the hay. The ones who can keep up with her are kiri and Bakugou, but even they sometimes fall victim to her brutal pace which earns her some heavy respect in their books.

Cow Ochaku: she absolutely adores sparring. At first the bulls wouldn't train with her because, "she's a heifer, she'll just get hurt" which seriously pissed her off. That is until a Bull who was messing with one of the heifers took things too far for her liking got take down by her just grabbing his horn with one hand and slamming the big bull down with just sweeping his leg out from under him and Basically making him face plant down onto the ground.

She Basically forced oversized "calf" to apologize to the heifer, and better not do that shit again. Bakugou who Basically went from not impressed and only intrigued to Having mad respect for her and now wants this woman in his harem, though he ain't the only one.

Cow Ochaku: poor baby still at times has nightmares about the bad place and will sneak into the living quarters of either of her boys or into her human friends room, or just brings all three of them to her own living quarters to cuddle and sleep together. If anything this is something her and Bakugou bond over, since he was a rescue bull from a pretty harsh place and she ran away from a bad place.

One night he just caught her awake early in the morning breathing in the cold air, with a melancholy look upon her usually smiling face. While it's a sad thing to bond about they do bond over it, and it brings them closer.

Cow Ochaku: she's love mochi treats, the kind that the old farmer made specially for hybrids. If you found a way to make them she will be your godamn best friend! Speaking of friends while she can make easy friends with any gendered human, she's not really good with other heifers for some reason. She just. . .feels nervous and a bit off around them

It could be because she has no idea on how to add the heifers in her bull harem plan, as well as the fact that she's not really. . . On the same wavelength of thinking as them at times??? Basically she wants to dominate the bulls while they want to be fucked submissive by them.

She wants to trust Said bull before EVER fucking them, while all it takes is the bull to show off how strong he is to get them wet and ready. She doesn't care for being treated frail and being taken care of while she can take care of her self. She would adore being taken care of twenty for seven by their strong bull. . .she just doesn't get them. . .at all really nonetheless she tries. . . She really tries.

Cow Ochaku: loves giving advice to the bulls about sex techniques and telling them about human sex toys. If she's close to a bull, she teach them some human tricks that she learned while surfing, "the web." She'll also be a babysitter for the heifers and bulls that want alone time at a specific moment so they can get they're grove on if you know what I mean?

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I did my own version of an Ochako Cow! I'm pretty proud of my drawings as well as how I made her! I based her on @miggiisdumb 's Bull/Cow AU cause I'm heavily obsessed with the godamn AU and her writing, please go check out her stuff as well as art cause it's fantastic.

I'm also gonna tag @headkandies in here cause they make pretty good headcanons as well as being a fellow lover of this AU!

But anyways that's all folks be safe and have a Heroic Day! Since it's not safe out there please take a mochi loving Ochacow on your way. 🥰