#wait what the fuck is he sleeping w/ his armor again-

[oh-no-its-bird]

sending this ask w the power of god (airport wifi) because my power is out but i NEED to say this abt sqh in naruto as huohou

sqh would be SO fucking paranoid. he doesn't even remember who becomes a missing nin or not and mixes up canon with fanon. "hmm yeah shisui becomes a missing nin right.....? hmm yes i should watch him Very closely." (shisui is suspicious of sqh watching him closely. what does he Want.) he also thinks madara and tobirama were in a situationship or something like that. or was it madara and hashirama...? wait, since when was sealing like THAT? (like always. everyone looks at him and it's like damn you must have failed the unit on sealing back at the academy.)

i think the system waking up sqh at night only to be jumpscared by the uchiha massacre notif is very funny but. hear me out. random late night ramen or grocery run instead or sumn like that. just chilling and all of a sudden oh FUCK.

YEAH EXACTLY

Houhua doesnt even know who Madara is, he read like a fucking quarter of Naruto before dropping it when he was in highschool, which was 2 lives and well over a few hundred years ago. He knows like, bare fucking bones about the start of Naruto and most of what he remembers is just bc of memes he'd see online that were funny enough to get imprinted in his mind

he got up to like, Sasuke defecting w Orochimaru maybe?

The system is helping out a little by giving him some vague list of "important characters" but then refuses to elaborate on what makes them important. Maybe when he meets people if they have narrative weight they'll glow in his eyes or smthn fun like that? Idk

Let his mangekyou, if he ever receives it, revolve around "seeing the strings of fate" or some shit and its basically an extension of the system where hes able to "see the future" but its just him being able to tell someones inherent narrative weight

I think he'd have a really fucking hard time ever manifesting it tho, just bc like. He's really old. And he's seen a lot of shit. And he's grown really fucking numb to most terrible things. And he's already putting up so many walls between him and "the residents of this world" or however he might see them. I think that it'd take a lot for him to become so genuinely attached to someone that losing them can manifest something like that, and he isn't emotionally available enough to get that attached in the first place

I want him to actually violently bash together naruto sealing and svsss sealing to create just like. An ungodly creation of power that no one but him understands how to work, I think it'd be fun

On one hand I am hearing u out but on the other hand I always found it interesting that, on the night of the massacre, somehow, some way, all of the Uchiha were accounted for in the compound. You're telling me not a single one was on duty? Not a single one was out on a mission? I always thought that was the most pointed "there's clearly something underhanded going on here from the governments half" bc that's so ridiculously convenient it's straight up stupid.

Anyways that's to say that to continue with that line of thought and also bc that was clearly planned somehow, Houhua would need to be in the compound

Then again theres probably shops n stuff in the compound that Houhua could have been going to, thats true

hmmm things to think about

Either way I think I like him not sleeping but like, laying down trying to sleep when it happens bc it also lets me flex the "this paranoid bastard has been going to sleep in fucking armor since Sasuke turned 8, that's wild"

[kedsandtubesocks]

happy may the 4th be with you day ✨ this is a small but it is mighty treat for today and for my big brain babe @willowser because yes we had our 👀 moment seeing Mando Bkg out of his armor but are you ready for the first time he sees us out of our jedi robes? 🩶

✩｡:･｡☽*☾｡･: ｡✩ ✩｡:･｡☽*☾｡･: ｡✩ ✩｡:･｡☽*☾｡･: ｡✩

He’s pissed off. Bakugou needs a map from one of your archive records and it’s late. He should be in bed and he’s pissed off.

So he stomps over to your little homestead at the edge of village and bangs his hand hard on the wall. He bangs, bangs, and bangs until he hears you scream through the door-

“Stars, what the hell do you want this late Bakugou?!”

He’s about to yell at you because how the hell did you know it was him?

But then the door slides open and there you are. All of his thoughts quickly burst from his mind as if one of his explosives went off.

Your face is scrunched up like a furious beast, but he can’t even focus on that. In the dim evening light a sheen glistens across your entire face as if you’ve put something on it like a cream or some other shit.

And…you’re in a sleeping tunic.

The tunic is simple and leaves your forearms bare. You’re not in your sacred robes and his mind can’t process it for a moment. You seem so normal, as if you’re not a revered peace keeper.

“What do you want?” You ask again through gritted teeth and it reminds him that yeah, you’re still the same annoying shitty Jedi. You just…don’t look like it.

“The archive map.” Bakugou answers back an angered bark because now he’s twice as pissed off and can’t stop staring at you.

“Are you serious? Right now?! This couldn’t wait?” You sigh exasperated.

“No it can’t wait, shitty Jedi!” Bakugou snaps back and you make an indignant noise he almost laughs at. But you whip around fast and storm back into the living quarters.

“Come on.” You seethe at him from over your shoulder.

A small piece of him freezes. Hesitation clutches at him to stay still, to be respectful and wait outside. He doesn’t. He instead follows you inside.

All the living quarters for single warriors are the same. He’s thankful being clan leader allows him a larger space cause shit the regular ones are small as hell. The bed, compact kitchen area, and even small lounge couch are all in the same space. The only other room is the fresher door off to the side.

They all look the damn same.

Except yours doesn’t. Of course it fucking doesn’t.

The elders had given you this homestead as a sign of good faith and trust instead of letting you sleep in the crappy makeshift tent you brought.

And now that he’s here, Bakugou realizes he’s never seen inside of it. He’s never been inside of this makeshift apartment of yours.

He greedily drinks in every sight he can, flat out stares without any shame behind the safety of the helmet.

Mountains of scrolls and text clutter the small table you sit in front of now. A small mug rests besides the clutter with a drink inside already cooled. In the compact kitchen a couple of candles illuminate the space with their soft flames. Even a small incense stick releases gentle smoke floating into the air. When the hell did you even get this crap? Did you bring it with you?

Shit, even the lighting of this room looks so different. He has the same lamps you do that are carved into the walls and produce a soft amber light. Except your space seems to glow a different shade. Bakugou can’t describe it. He wonders if maybe he’s slipped into a new dimension. Or, maybe he is now just existing stuck between a dream and something else.

“You can sit down.” Your dull voice snaps him out of his tumbling thoughts as his helmet towards you. You stare at him bored, holopad in hand.

“No.” He flat out tells you and just as quickly turns his face away because he can’t. He will stare at you again if he lets his gaze linger anymore on you.

So he goes back to staring at your room.

He tries not to focus at your messy bed because quickly he begins to imagine you in the sheets, wonders if they smell like you-

Bakugou violently squishes those thoughts away and instead examines your night stand. Then his crimson eyes go wide fast.

“You kept a damn rock from that glow cave we got stuck in?”

The memory is so clear to him.

In that damn cave illuminated by all the weird glow worms was the first time you and him were stuck alone together. That’s why Bakugou recognizes the rock cause of course those worms are still glowing here and he doesn’t even know how. But that cave…that was the first time he truly trusted you, knew he couldn’t see you as an enemy anymore.

Now here a rock from that damn cave rests on your nightstand almost grinning at him.

“Yeah.” You suddenly snicker a low thing as you answer him. “I couldn’t help myself. The rocks were just too pretty. Plus…wanted to just remember that day.”

Your voice is so soft and Bakugou thinks it clutches his heart like a shriek hawk. He whips his helmet back to you. Very quickly he catches your eyes on him for just a second before you rapidly return your attention to the pad.

With your focus there he goes back to again flat out staring at you. This is most of your skin he’s seen. He noticed you bare arms first earlier when the door slid opened. But now, he finds you’re even bare foot. You are here cozy, warm, and relaxed, so openly making this space a home. You here are not a sacred jedi - just you.

It makes Bakugou want to storm out. He wants to leave so badly because he wants, more than anything, to carve out a spot for himself here. He wants to sit on the couch and give you shit for whatever meal you make for dinner. He wants to know what type of tea you favor more. What does your incense smell like? Which of those scrolls do you read the most?

It’s all too much. Especially now as his gloved fingers dangerously itch and beg to run a soft path against any bare skin you’ll let him get close to.

He can’t take this.

So Bakugou yanks his gaze away to scanning the room yet again. And he can’t help it. His attention returns to your bed. This time though his entire body feels as if he’s been suddenly drop kicked into an icy lake on the frozen planet Hoth.

Because there on your nightstand sitting by the dang rock is your lightsaber.

Damn, he’s more upset with himself that he didn’t notice it first.

Quietly unassuming, Bakugou once even joked the weapon looked like a piece of discarded metal found in a junk yard. He now thinks it radiates some freaky as hell sensation and that the saber might be alive, breathing, silently judging him. Because he swears the piece of junk is staring straight at him, a sharp reminder of the the consecrated truth. Bakugou has been trying to believe that here, in this room, your reality is blurred and you aren’t the ancient enemy his ancestors warned him about. But that lightsaber is proof.

It is the literal manifestation of the deep chasm between you and him.

He is a mandalorian. You are a Jedi.

As he continues to stare at the damn freaky light stick he can’t even hate it, especially after you told him you made it yourself.

Bakugou learned from you that Jedi hand make their lightsabers. From picking the metal, to the color of the actual saber which apparently you even had to go and find the crystal used to power it, the process was extensive, intimate. Crafting a lightsaber by hand is meant to forge a bond and solidify a Jedi to the saber that would be with them for life. It is a union between weapon and warrior that, as a mandalorian, Bakugou appreciates. He realizes now he’s never taken the time to truly look at yours.

He finds you in every inch of that dumb metal stick. From the coloring, to the groves of steel, to the actual length of it, it all screams you.

But Bakugou is disgusted that everything now simply screams you. It’s like he can’t escape you. But he’s a mandalorian, a damn good one. So he won’t be defeated by a dumb Jedi, especially by you.

“Alright,” your voice breaks his thoughts. “All done here.”

You stand up to hand him the map now transferred to a small pocket projector he can take with him.

Bakugou swipes it from your hand quickly because he now fears touching any part of you might cause him to combust. Not saying another word Bakugou stomps off to the door.

“You’re welcome.” You joking tease and it freezes him.

Bakugou takes a deep inhale.

“Yeah whatever you did your job shitty Jedi. Get some sleep.” It’s the closest thank you he’ll say to you.

The door slides open and Bakugou almost used bud jet pack to get away as fast as he can from you.

Later when he’s back in his room trying not to think about your homestead or your bare skin or how soft you looked, a thought fires into him.

Jedi weren’t suppose to have attachments.

He knew that.

He supposes forms of attachment meant more of the emotional type. Because all the shit in your room, that small glowing rock, they all seem like attachments. Yeah they were physical ones and small compared to something that could be considered corruptible.

But they are attachments all the same.

And for some reason, Bakugou goes to sleep pleased at the thought of you having them.

He doesn’t like that he’s happy at the thought of you being a bit selfish. Rationally, he argues that it’s because he’s a mandalorian. Seeing possible cracks in a Jedi has to count as some sort of victory. But the more he lingers on these thoughts, the reality sinks it’s teeth into him harder and draws blood. It makes him feel selfish and shitty.

Because if he wasn’t mandalorian, Bakugou knows he would have felt the same way. He was just glad he got to see this side of you - of you not being so Jedi, just being normal, bare, and open. This version of you Bakugou saw tonight, along with the thoughts he can’t quiet down, all keep him up for the rest of the night.

And what ends up pissing him off the most?

This encounter should have solidified that he is pure mandalorian at any moment just like how you are pure Jedi at any moment. But instead it has Bakugou feeling as if his beskar has been stripped and he now stands simply a man consumed by the thoughts of another, of you, of simple pure you.

[memento-morri-writes]

comfort - an atqh excerpt

once again, as requested by @cherrybombfangirlwrites

tw: violence, attempted murder, death are all mentioned and/or implied.

wordcount: 1,178

atqh taglist: @enchanted-lightning-aes @ink-fireplace-coffee @inkingfireplace @rose-bookblood​ @italiangothicwriteblr​​ @mel-writes-with-her-dragons​ @carefulpyro​@mr-writes​@ryns-ramblings​@harinawa​ (ask to be + / - ) !!

Fallon bolted upright, heart pounding. She swallowed the scream building in her throat, wrapping her arms tightly around her knees. Just a dream, it was just a dream, she told herself, whispering the words over and over again. But no matter how many times she said them, she could still see Kristopher’s face, frozen in fear as Lavinia plunged the dagger into his chest.

She attempted think about anything else, to push the images out of her mind. But the harder she tried, the more vividly they returned. Over and over again, Kristopher’s limp body fell to the floor, and Fallon was helpless to stop it.

I can’t do this. Fallon got to her feet and hurried to the door, glancing around the room behind her. The shadows cast by the candelabra flickered and danced, reaching out with crooked fingers. She could almost hear her father’s voice calling her. Shaking, Fallon opened the door and stepped into the hall.

It was empty, not a guard in sight. Her heart pounded in her throat as she crept down the corridor, past the suits of armor silhouetted in the windows that loomed like assassins waiting to jump on her. Fallon’s feet led the way, firm and certain while her mind raced. She could still see Kristopher’s face, the spatter of blood.

Passing the final statue, Fallon found herself in front of a large wooden door. It looked exactly like the one that led to her own room, but this one was different. This one meant safety, warmth, and most importantly, proof. Proof that Kristopher was safe.

She raised a fist to knock, but stopped. What will people think? Knowing that the Queen couldn’t even deal with a fucking dream along? Her hand hesitated, hanging in the air. Fuck what they think. Fallon brought her knuckles down on the wood, the sound echoing in the silent corridor.

Several moments passed in silence, but the door remained resolutely closed. This was foolish, she thought. He’s asleep, like you should be. She turned, taking a step away from the door.

Creak.

“Fallon?”

She whirled around. Kris stood in the open door, eyes still heavy with sleep. He was shirtless, feet bare against the wood floor of his room. Alive, Fallon thought. He’s alive. She stepped forwards, towards him, and suddenly his arms were around her, squeezing her tightly.

They stayed like that for several moments, Kris holding her tightly, neither saying a word. After what seemed like hours and a heartbeat all at once, Kristopher stepped back, holding her at arm’s length. “Fallon, what’s going on?”

She looked away, suddenly ashamed. She’d come here and woken him up, in the middle of the night, over a dream. “I… couldn’t sleep,” She said, the words sounding stupid, even to her own ears. Kris stepped back, holding the door open. “Come on in.”

Fallon slowly stepped into his rooms, eyes glancing around, checking every corner for something amiss, but all was calm. The last vestiges of a fire crackled in the hearth, and the whole room was cast in a warm light. The bed was unmade, covers tossed aside when she had knocked.

Closing the door gently behind her, Kris crossed the room to the bed, smoothing the covers. He sat down and patted the space beside him. “Have a seat.”

Fallon crossed the room slowly, suddenly very aware that she wore only her nightgown. She perched awkwardly on the edge of the bed, arms at her sides. She felt a hand on her arm and jumped.

“Sorry.” Kris pulled his hand back quickly. Fallon reached over and grabbed his hand. This was real, he was real. As if sensing her thoughts, Kris squeezed her hand tightly.

They sat in silence for several minutes, Fallon slowly relaxing until she was leaning against him. Kris supported her with his arms, still holding her hand in his.

Fallon was the first to break the silence. “I lied.” The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them. “About not being able to sleep. I could. I did.” She didn’t know where the words were coming from, but now that they had started, she couldn’t stop them. “I had a dream.” Kris tensed slightly beside her. “Lavinia was there, and my father,” She choked on the last word, hands clenching into fist to keep from shaking. “Sh- Lavinia had you, you and Nina, and sh- she-“ Fallon’s voice broke.

Kris held her tightly, arms wrapped around her as she sobbed. “It’s okay,” He murmured gently. “You’re here now. You’re safe.” He said this over and over again, stroking her hair as her body shook with near-silent tears. Eventually, Fallon’s sobs subsided and she stilled. Kris didn’t let go, his warm, solid presence a reminder that she was not alone.

“They get better, a little.” Kristopher’s words broke the silence, barely above a whisper. “The dreams.” He cleared his throat a little. “You stop waking up, or you stop remembering them, but they don’t go away.”

Fallon looked up at him, re-rimmed eyes wide. “How do you know?”

The Prince pointed to the scar on his lip. “Someone wanted me dead too. Not the kind of thing you ever forget.”

Fallon had never asked about his scar, and Kris had never offered a story. “How?” She asked, voice raw from crying.

“When I was about 10, I woke up to a servant standing over my bed. I don’t think she expected me to wake up. She hesitated. I rolled, and she missed, barely. I ran. If I had woken up a few seconds later…” He swallowed. “I don’t think I would have woken up at all.”

Fallon reached out, gently tracing the scar with her finger. “Thank you.”

Kris looked down at her, startled. “What for?”

“For trusting me. And for listening.”

“Of course.” The Prince smiled gently, but his eyes were sad.

They stayed there for several minutes, Fallon resting her head against him, Kris with his arms gently wrapped around her. Fallon’s eyelids grew heavy, and she yawned, eyes closing. She contemplated getting up, going back to her own rooms. She knew she should, but she didn’t think she could face them alone. Not tonight.

Kris looked down at Fallon. By the light, she looked so beautiful like that, hair splayed across her shoulders, her face relaxed and at peace. But they couldn’t stay like this forever. Sighing, he disentangled himself from the Queen, laying her gently onto the bed. “Sleep well,” he whispered.

Her eyes cracked open, looking sleepily up at him. “Where are you going?” Beneath the exhaustion in her voice, she sounded almost afraid.

Kris gestured towards the sofa. “I thought I’d be a gentleman for once in my life.” He forced a grin, mouth quirking upward.

“Can you stay?” Fallon’s voice was soft, but Kris felt like he’d been punched in the gut.

Part of him, the logical part, knew that he shouldn’t. She was the Queen, and he was, well, him. She didn’t need her reputation ruined by association. But that thought was roughly shoved aside, and he nodded. “Of course.”

Slowly, he lay down beside the Queen, wrapping his arms around her. She shifted slightly, nestling close to his chest. Slowly, back pressed against his chest, Fallon drifted into a deep, mercifully dreamless sleep.

[onelastfic]

More Nenet x Raza please 🙏

“C’mon, big guy. Hold still will ya…” Nenet said.

“But it tickles…” Raza said, trying to stay still as Nenet helped him put on his new armor.

“So? Quit being so fucking squirmy already or I’ll never get this on. Honestly, I move less when ya rearranging my insides with that big ol’ Titan dick of yours.” Nenet snickered.

Raza blushed deeply at the crass statement. “NENET?!”

“What? It’s not like it ain’t true.”

——

“I don't need to go to bed. I'm not tired, I'll be fine.” Raza assured, but the bags under his eyes and his sluggish movements were saying something completely different.

“C’mon, big guy. Come to bed. I'll be so lonely without you.” Nenet said, pressing herself against herself against his big strong chest. “How can I sleep without my favorite pillows?” She nuzzled deeper into his chest and purred.

“O-oh. Well…” Raza blushed, pausing his work. “Wait a minute. Are you trying to seduce me into healthy sleeping patterns?”

Nenet paused, not saying anything for a few seconds. “Nooooooo…”

——

“Fight me, big guy!” Nenet shouted, kicking in the door to the forge.

“Ah?!” Raza jumped, shocked and confused at the sudden visitor and even more sudden challenge to fight. “W-What?!”

“Fight me?!” Nenet shouted, striding right up to the goliath, planting herself on the table right in front of him. Then she reached forward, grabbed his face, pulling him close so he was now eye level with her. “With your mouth! On my mouth!”

——

“I think I just figured something out. I got to go.” Raza said, rushing to gather his things.

“Aren't you forgetting something, big guy?” Nenet asked, straightening her clothes as she watched Raza zip around the forge. His mind now clearer and better due to his post-nut clarity.

“Uuh…” Raza hesitantly kisses Nenet's forehead before running out. “Thanks, Nenet!”

Nenet blinked, a blush quickly appearing on her face. “No, I meant locking up the fucking forge, dumbass!”

——

“Why hello Raza,” Scent said, the young goliath seemed to stiffen up at her gaze. Though his expression was interesting, it wasn’t as nearly as interesting as the fierce glare and growling that was being directed towards her by the small beastkin girl that was on Raza’s lap.

“I must say you have grown up quite well.” Scent smiled, reaching out to touch the goliath. “Quite a tempting—”

Slap!

Scent raised a brow, unshaken despite the fact Nenet just harshly slapped her hand away. Scent smiled, clearly amused as she reached out again.

Slap!

And again.

Slap!

And again.

Slap!

“Back the fuck off, blondie! He’s mine!” Nenet hissed at her, ears flattened, eyes slitted, and small puffs of flames coming out. “Keep trying shit and I’ll rip your fucking arm off!”

——————

Raza belongs to @kururu418

[fleurywiththesave]

I love ur writing! I'd love to read more from you, how abt 17 w/ mattdrai for minific??

Thank you so much! Hope you like this one.

17. Things you said that I wish you hadn’t

“I’m fine, Leo. It’s really not that bad.” Matthew’s point is slightly undercut by the fact that Leon can hear that he’s on painkillers.

“I can get an early flight—“ Leon begins, but Matthew cuts him off.

“You don’t need to do that. Brady’s here if I really need something. I just have to rally, okay? Gotta save everything up to win.”

“Okay.” It’s not okay, of course. Leon’s not stupid. But if Matthew’s refusing to be honest with him, he doesn’t feel like getting in a fight about it. He probably shouldn’t upset him in the middle of the finals. “Get some rest, Matty. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

They don’t win.

Leon knew they couldn’t, not without Matthew. He forces himself through game four and can’t play in game five, and Leon watches it all unfold on TV and feels like absolute shit. He manages to wrangle half-updates out of Brady as things limp along, but it’s not a substitute for being there.

He should be there when things suck and he doesn’t understand why Matthew won’t let him.

The more he dwells on it, the more he slips from frustrated and hurt into angry. And no one has ever accused Leon of making good choices when he’s angry. So maybe he doesn’t actually mention it to Matthew when he books a flight to Miami the day after Vegas wins. Maybe he just shows up at his front door, which is opened not by Matthew but by Brady.

Brady seems glad to see Leon. Actually, his exact words are “oh thank fucking god, he wouldn’t tell me when you were getting here. He’s asleep, I was about to go to the store, anything you want me to get?” Leon is so taken aback by the enthusiasm of the welcome that he actually tells Brady his favorite type of coffee, even though Matthew has scolded him repeatedly for his reluctance to admit to the Tkachuks that he has any kind of preferences when they’re all together. Look, it just seems like a good way to make Keith not unhappy about you dating one of his children is to eat what he eats and drink what he drinks, okay?

Hey, at least Brady isn’t mad that he’s there, even if Matthew is going to be. Leon drops his bag in the front hall and makes his way to Matthew’s room. As Brady promised, Matthew is asleep.

Leon loves to watch him sleep. It’s not that it makes him exceptionally beautiful, seeing as how he becomes a total mouth breather the second he’s out. It’s that it makes him so soft. All the snarky little threads, all the armor built up over years of other people’s expectations, all the tension that precious few people even know he carries – it all falls away. It’s usually when he’s watching Matthew sleep that Leon thinks about all the promises he can’t quite say out loud yet.

Right now, though, he’s mostly trying to suss out how much pain Matthew is really in. He’s wincing when he shifts and his forehead is creased. Leon feels a stab of bitterness that Matthew has been holding him out.

It’s not long before he starts to wake up, maybe fifteen minutes or so. Leon stays quietly seated next to the bed and waits. Matthew’s usual bleary blinking is pretty quickly by a look of confusion.

“Leon?” He tries to sit up and falls back almost immediately with a pained groan. Another twinge. He can’t even sit up and he wouldn’t let Leon come help him?

“What are you doing here?”

“What the fuck do you think I���m doing here?” Leon asks.

“I told you I’m fine,” Matthew says. He tries to move again. Leon reaches out and places a hand on his hip.

“Yeah, but you’re not. You can’t even sit up.” Leon chews on his lip and tries to ignore the unpleasant churning in his stomach.

“Matthew, why don’t you want me here? Do you—do you not trust me? Did you not want me around your family? I don’t…” His throat is getting tight, which is incredibly inconvenient. That is not how this conversation is going to go.

“What?” Matthew looks bewildered, even a little angry. “Are you out of your mind? No, that’s not—oh, for fuck’s sake, I can’t have a conversation like this. Help me up?”

At least he’ll let Leon do that. They get him propped up on the pillows and reposition a dropped ice pack, then he looks at Leon with an exasperated expression.

“Do you really think I didn’t want you here?”

“You’ve been lying to me about how badly you’re hurt, you told me not to come, and you’ve been dodging Brady when he asks about it. What am I supposed to think?” He brushes quickly at his eyes, but not quickly enough to escape Matthew’s notice. His face transforms from confused and irritated to affectionate and soft.

“Oh, baby…dammit, Leo, I’m sorry. That’s not it at all. I just didn’t want you to worry. And I was trying not to rub it in, I guess. That we were still in it and you weren’t.”

“Of course I was worried. You were hurt and you wouldn’t let me help.” Leon still feels a little off, but there’s a growing sense of relief at the same time. Matthew isn’t sick of him or embarrassed by him. He’s just an idiot hockey player. That’s familiar enough territory. “I don’t care that you made it further than us. I mean, it sucks to lose, but. I love you, Matthew. None of that is ever going to be more important than you.”

Matthew rests his hand on Leon’s cheek. All his annoyance has disappeared. “Why didn’t you tell me that’s how you were feeling?” he asks.

“Why didn’t you?” Leon counters, and he laughs.

“Okay, touché. What if we both promise not to do it again?” Leon covers his hand and nods.

“I can do that.” Matthew tugs at him lightly and he leans over for a kiss. It’s simple, sweet. Reassuring. Leon feels himself relax for the first time in days.

“Matty, I’m here for a long time, not just a good time, okay?”

Matthew smiles softly, the way he only does for the people he loves. “So am I.”

[oogaboogaspookyman]

That's it- @mewtwoandme get over here lmao-

[MEWTROUSLE]

.

.

.

*you, a human child, are travelling through a snowy forest... It's so cold*

*you find a large stick, heavy and strong, prolly a branch... You try to pick it up but it's too heavy which is very obviously visible like- it's fucking huge why would you pick it up it's too damn heavy for you-*

Hmmm... Oooohhhh...

*it's so cold, it's so... So... So cold*

*you keep walking down the forest... Suddenly...*

*CRACK!*

Wha?!?

*you look behind yourself... The branch broke... Something is here with you*

*you run away, as fast as possible, sometimes hearing someone walking behind you but ignoring their footsteps, you run and run and run and run and run as fast as you can*

*you ran until something got in the way, a tall wooden structure... Something is behind you*

*H e y t h e r e k i d d o .

*you stands still, having accepted whatever is coming to you...*

*D o n ' t y o u k n o w h o w t o g r e e t a n e w p a l ?

*T u r n a r o u n d a n d s h a k e m y h a n d .

*you turn around with closed eyes and reach for this man's hand*

*you grab onto the hand and...*

*PPPBRBTRPTBTPTLTLGJFTPTPPRPPBBHH*

*WAS. WAS THAT A FUCKING WHOOPIE CUSHION. WHAT THE FUCK*

*the man is revealed to be... A Wholeass Red Mewtwo™ with a blue hoodie*

*hehe- the ol' whoopie cushion in the hand trick! that never gets old.

*you are... Amused, apperently. This fucking sucks but you do you i guess*

*i'm hugo, hugo the mewtwo.

*you shake his hand again, but careful to not set off the whoopie cushion again even though, APPERENTLY, it's funny to you*

*now i would be on the lookout for any humans that pass by, but i'm too lazy to bother.

*now my brother blu? he's a human hunting fanatic!

*hey i think that's him over there, just pass by this wooden structure over here.

*it's supposed to not let any humans enter but eh.

*you both walk in, then suddenly-*

*quick, hide behind that conveniently shaped lamp!

*you run to hide behind the conveniently shaped lamp*

*Then... A tall blue mewtwo with vitiligo wearing armor walks into the scene, Hugo looks up at him*

*HUGO?

*sup.

*YOU KNOW WHAT'S "SUP", BROTHER!!

*IT'S BEEN HOURS SINCE I TOLD YOU TO GO RECALIBRATE. YOUR. PUZZLES!!

*AND THEN I FIND YOU DOING NOTHING AT ALL LIKE YOU ALWAYS DO!

*YOU'RE ALWAYS SITTING AROUND, BOONDOGGLING, SLEEPING IN YOUR JOB, DOING NOTHING MORE THAN THAT!

*actually i was looking at this cool lamp, pretty cool huh?

*OH YEAH ACTUALLY IT IS.

*WAIT.

*NO IT'S NOT! IT'S JUST SOME LAMP SOMEONE PUT HERE!

*aw come on bro, it's really a ton to deal with for me.

*a skeleton.

*drum beats, that pun fucking sucked ass... BUT FOR YOU IT'S COMEDY GOLD I GUESS- you got shit taste in jokes, kid*

*OH GOSH DARN IT!

*bro you're smiling!

*I AM AND I HATE IT.

*you're smiling because to you it's genuinely funny, you heathen*

[end.]

Now i kinda wanna see Blu as Papyrus lol

(U don't have to draw it of course, just a thought)

Sans and Papyrus

Raphael and Donatello

How many other comparisons can fit these two?? XD

[xelles-archive]

aaaaaaaaaa

i'm softtttt...

[minzart]

Okay, I miss bnp au. What if they have a projector that show memories it show the memories of the canon cast and weird shit they do (and Yuu's unpleasant experience with RSA students calling them a damsel in distress when they clearly they can handle themselves

Anon I think we have a diferent idea of what a fun RSA is for writing, so I'm taking the creative liberty to put a little bit more thought into that last bit You said

Takes place during: meeting the other self

The idea was simple: to get back home the portal had to know where home is! Makes sense right? So one of them had to put on this weird looking hat, so it could track where their original dimension is. They needed someone with a very good memory and a strong connection to that original dimension.... ergo the obvious choice was Yuu of course :)

Like the good little prefect they are, Yuu put that on and waited for... something... and then they passed out, giving Idia the biggest scare of his goddamed life, a commotion was forming around, the villains were, for once, visibly distressed.

Chernabog's tension was palpable, bnpYuu couldn't get closer for the demon mountain held them in fear of a black out or worse... an explosion.

Mickey was the definition of internal panic, he was desperate to get that thing out of Yuu's head, but the risk is massive and what it could cost was too much, so he waits

An argument started to grow between the kids in their fear, false accusations and soon it would reach the adults and teens but then... the projector started working... what it showed wasn't a cartoon, no... it was memories

🌹they were in a stable, that much was obvious, a brown and dark horse looked them up and dow.

Yuu: I don't know about it...

Riddle, who was dressed like a proper equestrian helped them up the black horse: common now I'll be right here! There's nothing to worry about

And then there were

Yuu was galloping out of control screaming and somehow they had the capacity to be upside down

Riddle right behind them in the brown horse screaming and beheading however was on the way

Laughter and cackling could be heard in all the tables, both Riddles faces where red and someone please hold the little one he could strangle a person with his tiny little hands right now if provoked

The queen found amusement in the whole ordeal, such a dashing knight in shiny armor her little rose was! Look at him rescuing the little darling she's so pround!

🦁 the moment was a blur, Yuu was focused only in getting to their destination, marching in fury, blind to their surroundings, the door was kicked open

Yuu: LEONA KING-FUCKING-SCHOOLAR WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS!?!?!

Leona, who was now alerted by all the noise finally took in his suroundings: ah... what? Chuckles* didn't you like the new makeup?

For a brief moment Yuu's eyes passed by a mirror, their reflection showed doodles in their face, in their forehead a big "Leona was here"

And then everything was a blur again as the prefect jumped into Leona's direction who for the briefest of second looked genuinely afraid

Their chase eneded on the fountain

Little Leona was laughing, he couldn't help it, Yuu's face and rage was so funny, ogLeona on the other hand was fighting realy hard to stay put in his "sleep", internaly screaming of embarrassment

Scar ruffled both their head, his little rascals, always so cheeky, "next time use a permanent one"

🐙it was p.e class, Azul was trying to give... questionable advice to a Yuu and Grim

Azul: you just, concentrate and go, there's nothing more to it!

Grim: SAYS THE GUY WHO CAN'T EVEN GO HIGHER THAN 5 MILIMETER!

Azul gets closer: IT'S TEN CENTIMETERS LAST TIME!

Yuu: CAN YOU PRINCESSES SHUT UP-

The broom flies METER ABOVE THE GROUND with all three of them who screams so loud that Yuu goes deaf for a short moment

Azul is fuming in shame, he's red, he's pink, he wants to dive into the nearest box and never be seen in the light of the day again. Contrasting Little Azul who is BEAMING, HE CAN FLY A BROOM HOLLY-

Ursula pats his head in pity, poor boy... flying is aways a bitch for seafolk, she understands, but that was funny as hell

🐍It was history class, Yuu was drowsy almost sleeping when Jamil was easily spotted

The vision become sharper and a low chuckle could be heard from the prefect

Then, Jamil looked their way... and bleeped at them, wich made the prefect giggle

The face become more and more exaggerated with shifts from Yuu showing they themselfs were making more and more stupid face and then a loud bam vane from their side

Abruptly scarring both studnets who had now to face a furious Muzu Trein

The audience was more coowing than laughing, this was such a cute moment for such stoic kids. Wich meant Jamil was living in his hoodie from now own, no more sun light, he can't face society after that nope, not anymore, jamil isn't home please come back never- little Jamil is giggling and when spotted little Yuu they praticaly recreated the scene, too much caught in their own little game that they almost lost the next memory

Now, Jafar chuckled, his little boy could make him proud just bu existing and this was no difernet. "Oh come now boy you made them laugh, if that isn't a show of foundness I don't know what does"

👑 it was night time at Ramshackle, not too late for the two to be awake, you could call this a sleepover, but it was more like chilling in the same room in their phones, until Yuu spoke

Yuu: hm... hey Vil

Vil: hm?

Yuu: have you ever sweeped someone of their feet?

Vil: ... technically yes, but in what context?

Yuu: dance

Vil: ah... yes, that was a comun move in musicals for a while and where in many I participated

Yuu: have you ever been sweeped of your feet?

Vil: ... were are you going with this?

Yuu with the smuguest expression know to exists: that a guess~

And that's how Vil Schoenheit, dorm leader of Pomefiore, found out that little prefect Yuu has been training with mr. Vargas and where now a very strong little bean of a magicless human, how? Why, they shouted him higher tha expected AND CAUGH HIM BACK

It was mostly a shock for the entire theater, they expected a fall, they expected high heels being broken not... every one gives the unconcious prefect a side glance, not that the little prefect could be that strong

Vil was just drinking water hopping noone looked at him, and then the Queen herself "I mean... I can see the apeal" he spits his water. Little Vil is glancing back at little Yuu who is just fixating on him and shouted "WHEN I GROW UP I'M GONNA BE JACKED AND WE ARE ABSOLUTELY DOING THAT!" Little vil has no ideia how to react besides blushing

��at a break in pe class Yuu and a trembling Idia where resting by a tree, Yuu murmuring a familiar little tune that caugh Idia's attention

He couldn't help but murmur the song lyrics, what prompted Yuu to follow along, and as the two sang the music picked it's peek and-

Yuu & Idia: FROM ZERO TO HERO AND WHO'DVE THUNK?!

To the point their singing was so loud and enthusiastic, of beat and no harmonies as it is when you sing with friends that they didn't noticed Vargas behind them, who swiftly picked both up "if you both can cause such ruckus you are already rested no? Hehehe now run go go go!"

The audience sang along tbh, and Hades just covered his ears "out of all songs why that one hell", little Idia was singing along and only stoped when spoting Hercules himself beaming at his little cousing, so does like him after all, he might cry hold on-

Idia? What? Never heard of him, theres only annoying hoodie man, no Idia's there no sire, he does nor exist, he isn't here at all, and absolutely not blushing and firing pink hues in his flammable cursed hair like a madman nope

🐲 Yuu was running, behind them a sharp caw was heard, as their vision focuses solely in the next window and they jump

The outside view becoming clear, students gathered changing classes and between them one very familiar pair of horns, quickly thinking Yuu acted

Yuu: TSUNOTAROU CATCH ME!

Only for the dragon fae not exactly expecting child of man to actualybe falling right into his direction,both collapsing into the ground

The Phoenix spell passing rightrough their heads and continuing it's path of flames, leaving two sore students behind

Malleus: what came over your to think I could ever react in ti-

Yuu hugging him: YOU CAUGHT ME!

The audience aws, that was cute, maybe dragon faes aren't so fearsome after all. Malleficent chuckled at the little humans audacity and some fondness grew in her heart for said child, the way her grandchild acted so casual with them made her worry less for his future, since he clearly as at least one friend of his age

Malleus was not expecting that to be the memory Yuu associated with him at all, he was pathetic, not reacting quickly enough to catch them and yet...

Everyone was so distracted that noone noticed until too late a little mischief

Little Yuu jumps out of Chernabog head: TON-TON CATCH ME!

Chernabog was panicking because no matter how fast he cups his hand the fall will still hurt his little one and then-

Little Malleus actualy teleported to little Yuu breaking the fall and falling right into Malleus embrace who just teleported quickly enough and knows how to float

Little Malleus: WE CAUGHT YOU!

Mickey fainted

⚔ Then, there was their time at RSA

The boys could be... overbearing, they were always ready to help and be useful, it almost looked like their whole purpose of existence was to be just that, wich... made Yuu feel... uncomfortable, useless and unneeded. For someone who was used to have all chores trown in their hands, the new dynamic was... a little bit too much, causing conflict and, for the boys, some good self reflection and revelations

Those times surely marked Yuu, however as time passes the memories changed for more light hearted ones

From catching rabbits with "Alice"

Beating a tired blue haired boy to sleep after dark hours in reviewing the management of his dorm

Studying human history with Rielle and how his eyes shines with excitement

Helping a rough boy prank some bullies

Helping Neige with his busy schedule since he can't say no to people

Training with a himbo

And finaly treating the rose garden of RSA with a sweet boy with a calming voice

The little heroes are stunned, they never expected that in some world they WOULD be friends with Yuu!

And trust me they tried to make friends but... the boys could be very... scary... and possessive of their friend

But seeing their teen selfs befriending Teen Yuu? They little eyes shined with hope and determinatiom

Little Yuu caugh them staring, their response being a small wave of hello and a little smile

Chernabog is... still reluctant in trusting the heroes with his Child... meanwhile Mickey is ABSOLUTELY PROUND, his child can make friends with everyone! Look at them go!

ASKS FOR THE AUS ARE STILL CLOSED!

[insomniamamma]

Safe: Ezra x f!reader w/Cee

A/n: What can I say? I'm hormonal and all my shit hurts and if I cannot get snuggles IRL then I will write something super soft and self-indulgent to make myself feel better. Part of the Prickle AU. Set sometime after Sacellum.

Warnings: Oh no! There's only one bed. Soft!Ezra. Language. Cee's best friend on The Pug is non-binary and also named after my little boy's favorite stuffy. Maybe the slightest bit of angst. But mostly super soft.

         "You did this on purpose."         "Right hand to Kevva, I did not. I asked for double occupancy and they must have misunderstood and--"         "You don't have a right hand,"         "Let's go back to the reception desk," says Ezra, "We may be able to negotiate more appropriate accommodations."         "Errgh," you groan. Reception had been a nightmare, three freighters worth of traffic trying to secure berths all at once. It was a lot of people. Too many for your liking. Cee was staying with Kit and their family. Kit and Cee had practically tackled each other right there on the dock, everyone else forgotten, walked away arm in arm.         "We shove off in three cycles," Ezra hollered at her retreating back, and she flapped a dismissive hand at him. You had to smile. For three cycles Cee gets to be a normal teenager hanging out with her best friend without worrying about points and pulls and overhead costs and fuel margins.         "I don't wanna go back down there," you say, "Too many people. I think twice the population of Falnost was waiting in that fucking line." You brush past him and into the suite. The ceilings are low and slightly curved and it feels strange to be under this much grav. The outer rings of Puggart Bench have something close to terra-normal gravity, but after so much time spent on little moons and worldlets, this much G feels weird and you have no desire to trudge back down to reception.         "You sure?" Asks Ezra.         "Yeah," you drop your day bag and press a hand to the mattress. "Look at the size of this thing. It's, like, five crash-couches wide. This seems above our pay grade."         "They're overbooked," says Ezra, "We're paying the same points for the berth we should have gotten. I made sure of it. I can sleep in that recliner if--"         "No."         "No?"         "Kevva, Ez, we're both adults," you say, "I think we can share a bed for a night without exploding."

        Your suite has a real, honest-to-Goddess shower with a generous 15 minute timer. You scrub as fast as you can and then just let the water hit you, let the pressure pound on your tense back muscles until the chime sounds and the water cuts off. You towel off and dress, soft clothes you sleep in, and pad out into the main room. Ezra is reading, face far off and serious, and you just look at him for a minute, illuminated in the warm lamp-light, absorbed in his book, little furrow between his brows and then he looks up, all knowing smirk and dancing eyes, he's caught you staring.         "Your turn, Ez," You say and turn your face away. Kevva. This man. You've been trying to keep things professional, but it's a losing battle. His flirtations make you flush, but he's never tried to push you, never tried to leverage the fact that it's his name on the ship's title, that you signed a contract, that you are junior-most crew. You feel safe with him. And, from your limited experience in the fringe, that is a miracle in itself.

        Ezra sets his book aside and heads for the bathroom. You peel the sheets from the other side of the bed and settle in. There's a media player bolted to the wall, but you just want quiet. You switch off the lamp on your nightstand (we both have lamps, we both have a nightstand, how weird is that?) The sheets feel deliciously cool against your skin. To be clean and sleeping in clean sheets...if Heaven isn't like this Kevva's got some answering to do.         Ezra sings in the shower. You're barely awake and you smile. Ezra can't carry a tune in a bucket, singing fringeling songs and reels, stories of mercs and pirates and ghosts and you drift off to the sound of him, the sound of the water running.

        He sees you soft and loose and asleep. No rail-gun, no body armor, no thrower under your pillow. Your face slack, snoring slightly. You've kicked out of the blankets and lay curled as if chilled.         "Hey Artichoke," he murmurs, pulls the blankets up and tucks them around you, "Let's get you warm, yeah?"

        Ezra wakes. Bleared red numbers of the clock saying that this is still the deepest ditch of local night. Ezra is warm and confused. He feels you pressed against him, your chest to his back, an arm hooked around his middle, your legs entwined with his. You've sought him out in your sleep and folded yourself around him, your breath slow and steady against his nape. Ezra's eyes prick with tears. He can't remember the last time he's been held like this. He's had lovers. He has payed for sex on the less reputable Benches of the Great Arm, but for someone to hold him? For someone to touch him without payment, without trying to press some advantage, gain some kind of leverage, without priming him for the inevitable backstab?  He is overwhelmed. He tries to wriggle away from you, but your arm just tightens around him.         "...fixed the transponder," you mutter against his neck, "told you we didn't need...told you..." He pats your arm and relaxes against you.         "Okay, Artichoke, okay, sweetheart. Go back to sleep."

        You wake enfolded, Ezra's good arm wrapped around you. You feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear, the slow sussurration of his breath, the snores that catch in his throat and turn to murmurs, the rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek. You've tucked yourself against him in your sleep. Your hand rests on his sternum. Oh Kevva. What are you doing? You go rigid.         Your first impulse is to wrestle out of his hold, take one of the blankets and install yourself in the recliner that you wouldn't let Ezra take, but part of you wants to stay right here in the combined warmth of your bodies, feeling his breath, his heart, his calloused palm spread against your shoulder. You shift, making the smallest effort to pull yourself away and his arm tightens further, a low, sleepy chuckle reverberates through his chest.         "Hi Ez,"         "Hi." He strokes the pad of his thumb along the exposed curve of your shoulder.         "I'll get up," you say, even as he shifts and cups the back of your head in his palm, tucking you closer.         "You don't have to," he says, voice rough with sleep. This gesture pricks at your heart. Coming up on Falnost has made you hard, guarded, there has been precious little gentleness in your life, pulling rocks out of the parched ground since you were big enough to lift a shovel. Learned to fight and shoot to chase water-thieves from the homestead. He strokes the back of your head like one might pet a skittish cat and your heart squeezes.         "Ezra?" You hate how small your voice sounds, you hate the uncertainty you hear there, "Are we okay?"         "Of course we are," he says, "Why wouldn't we be?"         "I wrapped around you like a Bueller's world python and I did it in my sleep-"         "The wrapping was mutual-"         "You're not mad or uncomfortable or anything?" He laughs again, gentle huff of breath against the crown of your head.         "Mad about waking with you in my arms? The day I'm mad about that you can just shoot me in the head and send me to Kevva because I will surely have lost my ever-loving mind." You smile against his skin and relax some, your hand unfists and you curl your arm around his soft belly, feel his breath hitch.         "Tickles."         "Sorry." You feel yourself drift, skirting the edge of sleep. He is warm and solid and you let yourself relax against him.         “This feels...safe..." you say, so close to sleep that you're not sure if you've said it aloud or if you've just thought it. And you're not sure if you hear his response or dream it, one word. Always.

        "She's late," says Ezra.         "We still got a sixteenth to button up and board,"         "Still," says Ezra, "Yon freighter will leave with our pod wether we're strapped in it or not." You see Cee and Kit, trailed by Kit's parents, weaving through the crowd. Cee is beaming, her blonde hair has a brilliant streak of blue, and Kit has a matching streak in their hair.         "Hey guys!" Cee hugs Ezra and then hugs you.         "How was your shore leave, Little Bird? I like the fancy hair."         "Isn't that cool? We've got matching streaks," says Cee.         "It's semi-permanent," says Kit, "We'll pick a different color next time!" You have to smile. Cee looks revitalized. Three cycles spent with her friend, just doing normal kid things has been good for her.         "Check this out!" says Cee and pushes a laminated drawing towards the two of you. Ezra makes a show of looking carefully.         "I recognize you and Kit," he says, "I am not familiar with these other people, though."         "They're from The Streamer Girl, dumbass," says Cee, "Here's Clo and Reive and Lily and Auri. See? Kit put us right in the story." Ezra gives Kit his best smile.         “You drew this? You are very talented." Kit smiles big.         "Thanks!" says Kit, "I'll put you guys in the next one! Maybe you could be professors at Bowsun Academy or something."         "I look forward to it," says Ezra.        ��"Time to go, Cee," you say and Cee and Kit exchange one more enthusiastic hug.         "Later fringeling!" Calls Kit.         "Piss off, stationer!" Cee calls back. Ezra curls his fingers around yours and squeezes. Cee tells you all about her three cycles with Kit, the movies they watched, the Real Food they ate. How Kit's little brother wanted a blue streak in his hair too and Kit's parents said no and how mad he got. I wanna be cool like Kit and Cee.         "I told him he's got plenty of time to be cool," says Cee, "And he told me that I don't understand how the world works. He's like, four." Ezra laughs.         "Wise for his years." Says Ezra. And the three of you fall quiet. You find the pod much as you left it, towed to the Polly Jean and clipped in, transferred by the station's tugs. You settle in and do a full systems check. Calling out the checklists and making sure everything is good for transit.         "What are you guys so happy about?" asks Cee.         "Whatever do you mean?" asks Ezra.         "You been all smiles since I hit the dock," says Cee, "Both of you. Did we score a really good job? Did we win the Puggart Bench lottery or something? What aren't you telling me?"         "That," says Ezra, "Is for us to know and you to endlessly speculate about."         "Hmph," says Cee.

Tagging: @oonajaeadira, @grogusmum , @honestly-shite, @writeforfandoms, @ladyvengeancesposts, @the-blind-assassin-12

[fave-fanfic-for-now]

I’ve Never Done This

Warnings: Smut, swearing, loss of virginity, 18+

Fem!reader

Requested: Yes - I know you’ve written something about Din taking the reader’s virginity but what about the other way around 👀❤

requests are open

Masterlist

You and Din storm up the ramp of the Razor Crest he’s grumbling about how the intel you were both given was bad, but you have a rush of adrenaline going through your veins, something that always gets you hot and bothered.

“So Din,” you say running your hands over his sides where he doesn’t have any armor. “What do you say, you blindfold me and we fuck like a couple of animals in celebration tonight?”

You and Din Have worked together for years and been ‘dating’ for almost a year long. Though physically it only consists of sleeping next to each other and hand-holding, you don’t mind, well your sexually frustrated, but other than that you don’t mind. You know everything about his past and he knows yours, mentally and emotionally you two are tighter than anyone, it’s the physical part you need to work on.

After your remark, Din freezes and tenses, looking away from you before hesitantly stepping away, eyes glued to the ground.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, worried about his mood change.

“I can’t,” he says dejectedly, still not looking at you.

“Why don’t you have the equipment?” You jokingly ask, having a bad habit of making wisecracks in serious and uncomfortable situations. Although you know he has what he needs because you wake up to it pressed against you.

“No, it’s just…I’ve never…” he stops what he’s saying and sighs, his shoulders slumping. Suddenly light dawns on marble head and you know what he means.

“You’re a virgin,” you state seeing him nod while he fiddles with random objects. “That’s not a big deal. How about I get us a room somewhere and we make it special, but only when you’re ready to do this.”

“I am ready, and I don’t want a room.” He says turning towards you. “I just…don’t know what to do. But this ship, it's comfortable, I’d like to do it here.”

“That’s fine, just let me go get some candles or something to make it nicer for you.”

“No, this is how I’d want it, so long as it’s you here. I just…”

“Relax and tell me when you want to do this, no pressure, no judgment, I love you no matter what, even if you want to wait another year.”

“Now,” he practically yells, then he coughs and repeats himself calmly, “now, I’d like to do it now.”

“Do you want to be in charge or do you want me in charge?” You ask looking at Din who begins to shift uncomfortably.

“I…um…w-well I-I…I-I w-would…” he stutters as he tries to decide what he wants.

“How about I start and if you want to take over, you can.”

“T-that’d be good.” He agrees nervously, “um, what…what should I do now.”

Smiling, you slowly approach him and place your hand on his chest.

“First, I’m gonna remove your armor, then your clothes…although you remove your shirt so I don’t see your face. Then, I’ll let you strip me down, ok.”

“What…what if I’m no good?” He asks quietly turning his helmet away from you.

“It’s possible, but sometimes it just takes time and practice to learn what someone likes. So, even though I doubt you won’t be good, if you aren’t that just means we’ll have to practice, again and again, and again. Sound good?” You ask as he nods his head vigorously.

Carefully, you begin removing the armor from his body, making sure to run your finger over his body after removing each piece, feeling him shiver at every touch. Once his armor is piled on the floor, you pull his cape off, letting it fall to his feet before moving onto his gloves. After pulling one glove off you, take time to kiss every finger, gently sucking on them and swirling your tongue around them before moving to the other, hearing Din moan at the sensation of your warm mouth on his skin. Releasing his fingers, you turn away so he can remove his shirt and helmet.

“Stay like that for a minute,” he says in a deep rich voice as you hear him approach you. “Close your eyes.”

You immediately shut your eyes and feel him move your hair away from your shoulder. When you feel surprisingly soft and warm lips make contact, you shudder at the feeling, biting your lip as you tilt your head, Din moves his mouth to your neck, kissing, licking, nipping, and sucking on it, causing you to moan. As he pulls away, he rests his head on your shoulder.

“Please say I can trust you to keep your eyes closed just a little more.” He pleads, while his head rolls on your shoulder.

“Of course,” you respond, knowing what he’s going to do.

Carefully, he moves in front of you, cupping your face before gently touching your lips with his. As you kissed, he fumbled a little, the kiss wasn’t too sloppy, but you could feel his inexperience, and yet it made you so hot and needy. As you kissed back, you became a little more aggressive, pressing harder against his mouth and using your tongue to guide him on how to kiss. Din is a fast learner as he quickly picked up what you wanted him to do, gaining more confidence as a moan is ripped out of your throat. Pulling back with a gasp, you cup his face as your foreheads rest together.

“I need to put my helmet back on,” Din groans, not wanting to move. Your only reply is to nod your head and pull him in for one more kiss before letting him go.

It feels like hours as you listen to his footsteps move away before he calls back for you to turn around. Taking a deep breath in, you spin and open your eyes.

“I uh, took off my shoes and socks…so you didn’t have to,” he says becoming nervous again.

“That was very considerate,” you reply removing yours as well as you walk closer.

Kissing his chest, you unbutton his pants and push them off his legs, letting him kick them away before you slowly trace your fingers over his waistband. Looking up at him, he nods and you begin slipping his boxers off. Your eyes widen almost comically as you look at the appendage between his legs, stepping back as your mouth falls open.

“Holy fuck! Are you part elephant?” You ask, knowing that you should take this moment seriously, but unable to stop the smart-ass comment from coming out. “I don’t think that will fit in my mouth or my pussy.”

“I-is there something wrong with it?” He asks looking down at his fully erect penis as it pokes out between his legs.

“Oh, sweetheart, no, it’s glorious, fantastic, I’m pretty sure it is considered one of the 100 marvels of the universe, I mean…wow,” you sigh the last part, unable to take your eyes off of his massive cock, “it is perfection. You are perfection.”

He seems to relax after that and takes a step towards you, grabbing the hem of your shirt and pulling it up over your head, his hands shaking. He looks at you, focusing on your breasts as he gently massages them before squeezing them. Finally releasing you he unhooks your bra and tosses it to the side before returning his hands to your nipples, rolling them between your fingers, pinching and pulling them while he gets lost in the sensation of feeling such an intimate place on you. Relishing in the feeling of his warm soft hands on you, you close your eyes and try to calm down, as a flood of warmth pools in your crotch.

Din moves his hands down your sides, hands resting above the button of your pants as he slowly pushes them down your legs with your panties, sinking to the floor with them, until he’s eye level with your mound. As you step out of your clothes, he places them on the floor next to you, not moving away. Bringing his hand up he tickles your inner thigh until his fingers are barely touching your moist lips.

“Can…can I touch you here?” He asks quietly, running his finger over the same spot causing you to shiver.

“Yes, please do.” You moan as he applies more pressure.

“What should I do?”

“This is the clit,” you say moving his hand to it, “rub it, it’s the pleasure center for women, oh god,” you inhale sharply as he takes over rubbing you, causing you to have to steady yourself on his helmet.

“Can I…put my fingers inside of you?”

“YES!” You yell and instantly he moves to fingers into your core, gently moving them in and out. “Make sure your palms facing you and curl your fingers when you pull out.”

You’re gasping in pleasure as Din does exactly what you say, his fingers curling into your g-spot, causing your legs to quake as your knees get weaker.

“Is that good?” He asks looking up at you and watching your reaction.

“Yes, oh gods yes, faster.”

He moves both his hands faster, pumping in and out of you as he rubs your clit faster at the same time. Your orgasm rapidly approaches as Din keeps moving faster his helmet resting on your belly and the coolness of the Beskar adds another sensation causing you to orgasm around his fingers. When he stops, he pulls his fingers out and moves them under his helmet as he licks them clean.

“You taste delicious.” He says huskily as he rises to his feet.

“You’re a good student, now sit or lay down while I give you your first blowjob.” You respond pushing him towards the bed.

He sits down and rubs his hands over his thighs nervously as you settle yourself between his legs, looking at him. Taking his cock in your hand, you lick up his shaft, twirling your tongue around the tip before engulfing him. Moving your head up and down his shaft once, you pull off moving your mouth down to his balls; you suck one in and gently roll it in your mouth before moving to the other. Din is groaning above you, as he flexes his hand and grabs the sheets, balling them up in his fists while he watches you lavish his cock with your tongue. When you let his balls go, you return to licking him, teasing his tip and his frenulum when you get to them, causing him to cry out in pleasure at the feeling. Fondling his balls with your hand as you do so, you decide to take him in your mouth this time.

Engulfing him once again, you begin bobbing your head while one hand pumps what doesn’t fit and the other continues to pleasure his balls. One of Din's hands rests on your head as he grips your hair and you decide to deep throat him, humming around the large cock in your throat, he moans at the feeling as he thrusts upwards in your throat, pushing himself further than you thought you could take him. Pulling back slightly, you continue to bob on him, occasionally deep throating him as you pick up speed.

“I’m not gonna last,” he moans holding your hair, “you have t- ugh.”

Before he could finish his sentence, he finished in your mouth and you drank down every drop he gave you. Pulling back, you smile up at him and push him to lie down on the bed. Straddling his lap, you lay on top of him, folding your hands on his chest and looking up towards his face.

“I…thought…we…were…going,” Din begins to pant but you interrupt.

“Oh, we will, once you recover enough, but I figured you deserved to cum in my mouth since it was your first blow job.”

Din continues to pant as he strokes your hair lovingly. For the next hour, the two of you talk, until you run your hand over his chest and see it trigger his cock. As it rises stiff and mighty, you grin back at him.

“I think you’re ready,” you say, swinging your leg over him to straddle his waist.

Taking the tip of his cock, you line it up with your entrance, then look up at him, when he nods you slowly sink down onto him, moaning at the way he painfully stretches you.

“Oh, maker, that is the best thing I ever felt.” Din moans as you settle on his cock, waiting to adjust. “Please move, I’m begging you.” He practically cries out to you.

You raise your hips before crashing down on him, going slow as you grind onto him when your hips meet. Rising again, you circle your hips as you move downward, and continue doing so while he grips your hips. Moving his hands to your boobs, you make him squeeze them while you rise, fall, circle, and grind. At first, Din just lays there under you, relishing in the feeling of your warm hole wrapped around his cock, but then he begins to thrust into you. His movements are stuttered and jerky at first, but he soon finds a rhythm, meeting your hips every time you come down.

“How do I move you so I’m on top…without pulling out?” He asks as he pants under you.

“Sit up, move one hand behind my neck, and carefully grab me. Put the other on my ass, and pull me close,” you groan, giving him instructions as he does the moves, wrapping your legs around his hips as you shift your position and weight. “Bounce your hips until you think you have the right momentum then flip us over on an upward thrust.”

It takes him a few moments, but he manages to flip you over successfully. Once you land he hovers above you, freezing in his spot as he looks you over, then looks down to where you’re connected. He gives a test thrust, you groan again, and he looks back at you. You swear he’s smiling at you as he thrusts harder. Raising your hips to meet his, the two of you devolve into a pile of sweaty, grunting, and moaning bodies, and the only sound besides that is your skin slapping together. You can feel your orgasm growing and the way Din is tensing tells you he is about to happen to. Taking his hand from beside your head, you lead it to your clit and he immediately begins rubbing it in circles, sending spikes of pleasure through your body.

Your hips connect one last time as your back arches off the bed and Din tenses, yelling in pleasure as he coats your womb in hot cum. He doesn’t stop rubbing your clit until you both come down and he pulls out, resting by your feet as he watches your hole flutter with aftershocks from the orgasm, seeing a pearlescent button of cum forming at your entrance. When he looks up at you, he finally pulls his hand away and climbs in bed beside you, taking you in his arms.

“That was incredible, Din.” You tell him as you try to catch your breath. “You’re damn good, especially with it being your first time.”

“That was the best thing I’ve ever felt.” He whispers back, cuddling you. “Thank you, and thank you for accepting that I can’t take off the helmet.”

“That’s never a problem for me Din. Trust me on that.”

“I love you, y/n.”

“I love you too.”

Taglist: @readsalot73​, @coonflix​, @sparrows-corner​, @youmeanmybrain​, @dornish-queen​, @talesfromtheguild​, @absurdthirst​

[batarangsoundsdumb]

guess fucking what? my inbox is so fucking full right now i'm unloading all of this shit in one post.

For the 11th gotham memes: gothamites react to bruce being jacked in a tiktok he made with kids, like super yoked, ripped as hell

fucking hilarious thanks. i think i did it in one meme post, but i genuinely don't remember which one

i dunno which of the batfam would do this but one time i was sleeping over at a friends house and ended up on the floor bc the bed was so very small and i just stayed there because the rug was soft

that's a drunk jason move i don't know what to tell you

tim and jason are "i listen to pop punk" solidarity. whenever jason highjacks the batmobile theyll go on long ass car rides blaring mcr and paramore and then never talk about it again

as they should!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! tim: no jason it's my turn using the aux cord i gotta put on my jams jason: don't you dare put on weird shit tim: don't worry, you're gonna love this *plays fearless (taylor's version)

hear me out hear me out, red hood stans 🤝 nightwing stans t h i g h s

holy shit yes.

SNL au: Bruce breaks character when pretending to superman and says something like "I'm not superman! You've seen his gps!! It's from 2001!!!" @sabeanybabe

superman flies past the snl building the next day just to say 'actually it's from 2005, i'm not a heathen'

does your back hurt from carrying the batfam fandom

it hurts more from the exotic rock collection i keep in my backpack, but thanks for the concern.

I love your posts by why would you always leave the best parts in the tags?

as a treat for the people that check the tags ;) (and also because i'm committed to the short post aesthetic)

somehow your playlist was everything i never knew i needed. i mean it. this is my new favorite playlist.

and don't you dare get a new favourite playlist!

babe ur stoner tim playlist is exactly too perfect, earth is literally blessed by ur existence

babe thanks so much! i love my stoner tim playlist because it's just my usual playlist but people think it's an artistic choice that i put taylor swift and britney spears in there, when it's just what i unironically like listening to

JANDKSKDK BILLY RAY CYRUS ON THE STONER TIM PLAYLIST I LOVE IT IT

again it's not even an ironic choice, i know every single word and i genuinely like the song

The last chapter of Fundamentals of Casework has me crying at work. Thanks I love it @dudelookitsalesbian

oh babe, i'm sorry, but also, not sorry i love chapter 4 so much it's my lovechild with the 'mental illness' tag

soooo....stumbled on your tumblr by some stroke of fate??? read your DC fanfic first. which is PHENOMENAL btw. then found all the batmemes; the funniest thing EVER bc everyone forgets about regular old gothamites. kept scrolling and your blog pops up as recommended. clicked on the ao3 for shits and giggles and waddaya know?!?!? it's YOU!!! you're LEGEND!!!! ever seen that meme? it's a video of a cat that got into a baseball field and the two announcers get really invested in his escape attempt and start giving a play by play of the cat instead of the game. memeable moment: "GREAT stuff from the Cat!!!"

i seriously think about this ask every single day and it's so fucking funny to me that i've never seen the meme you're referencing, but i still find myself going 'GREAT stuff from the Cat!!!' whenever i see something funny. but wow i'm glad you liked this steaming pile of garbage

Fav dc character overall? And fav batfamily character?

don't ask me to pick between the loves of my life, but i can tell you i've cried about every single batfamily member and also wally west (my beloved)

What's your opinion on fans having a problem with batfam being "too big"? And some even claim that batfam is just "Bruce Alfred Dick Damian" and the rest of them are just "friends and allies" (source: reddit) Personally, I like batfam because of this reason but idk

stupid. a family can never be too big. i'm not that big a fan of like huge batfam stuff with everybody from every single universe, because as much as it's funny for bruce to have like 30 kids, it just feels a little too OOC for me.

This is the best tag I've seen involving the batfam, thanks for thinking of it

This is canon now @nctxrejects

lmao yeah i think at that point alfred has had to sit through like at least a dozen coming out talks and just has a pride flag collection in the attic that he pulls out whenever a kid comes out

idk why batfam hits different as compared to any other superhero family

bc it's found family and usually the other superhero families are almost all genetically related in one way or another

I don't know if you watch the umbrella academy but I saw your last post about batcest and saw the similarities. But the thing is (although I think it's weird) in TUA, they addressed it by saying "they were raised as weapons, not siblings" or something along those lines, which is simply not the case with batfam.

yeah i watched tua but i also thought it was ridiculous and they still treated each other as siblings so i didn't like the luthor/allison thing, and am glad they stopped doing that shit bc it fucking sucked.

Hot take: Batcest shippers are the same people who believe adopted siblings are not actual siblings

smoking hot take: batcest shippers are the people who watch 'my sister got stuck in the washing machine' porn

Duke was adopted by Bruce?

not technically no, but do i, tumblr user batarangsoundsdumb, look like i care?

True story but I had to change my freaking name because it used to be "Damien" and most people would go "OH LIKE DAMIAN WAYNE" like please I'm just tryna live

true story, but i don't actually think of damian when i hear the name damian, literally the first thing that pops up is damian darkh like bruh what?

apparently dc comics company supported comic stores by giving out new titles and stuff during the beginning of the pandemic to help them run and I just think that's wholesome

ah yeah that's so fucking cool, still don't like dc, the company, because this world is a capitalist hellhole and we're all owned by warner brothers or disney with no in between.

ayo looking at tumblr head canons and finding out bruce is actually a terrible father is a punch in the gut

lmao yes, in like 50% of comics bruce is a terrible father and it gives me whiplash

oooh I just saw the jason todd vs winter soldier post and the real question is: batman vs iron man

while iron man has like hundreds of cases of armor, batman could throw out an emp and have the guy dropping out of the sky in 2 seconds.

dickfast = fastdick = quickdick = quickie

magnum hot take

hey bata(?) just thought I'd let you know I have copied the obnoxious emoji and Billy Ray post for use on simping men going forth

thank you 😘🌷 (@spacebarsidecar)

why would you do that to your followers???? i get why i did it, but why would you???

what is scarecrow made the nightwing funko pop himself, like those diy-ers that paint over other ones

oh god no, horrible take, horrible take, that's a disgusting thought oh no

I see your HC that Bruce and Oliver fucked and raise you this: Dick and Roy ALSO fucked

yes they did and it was a horrible moment for jason to find out dick has fucked both of his best friends

"at this rate bruce adds like 1 child to his family every decade or so" Duke is introduced in 2013, Damian as Damian, not as an unnamed child, in 2006. And he is already 14 years old, Robins rarely remain Robins after 16 😬 It looks like a new Robin and Batkid will appear in a couple of years

i mean i can't wait? but somebody will probably die first tho, we're due for another major character death. my money's on either cass or duke this time.

BRO you're so right all of your Bruce's ex headcanons are amazing but they aren't ships, that's kinda wild. Like I don't want any peeks into how their relationship was I just want to see everyone make fun of them

lmao YES it's just i love bruce being a slut, like good for him.

I am in love with your posts your honour thank you

omg thanks are we like,, gonna kiss now?

The justice league needs to have a meeting to discuss how many of their members/partners have slept with bruce. Because through a combination of cannon & fannon (if DC wasn’t homophobic) we have AT LEAST: 1) clark 2) lois 3) oliver 4) dinah 5) john

Thats not counting villains or random civilians @dudelookitsalesbian

yes yes yes, they'll have a yearly meeting about how many of their collective exes could be out for revenge and batman's list just keeps getting longer.

tim was like "i'm drake now" and everyone was like ahh so your fursona is a dragon and tim was like pffffft no. ducks.

and what about it?

when steph's fighting livewire and she zaps her with lighting and nothing happens and then they both just. stand there awkwardly for a second and talk. yeah i couldn't stop laughing at that batgirl steph is the BEST

oh yeah that was fucking hilarious and i think it would be so cool and sexy of dc to give steph a little comic series,,, as a treat

Hi I absolutely adore all of yours "Bruce and Oliver very badly pretending they didn't fuck each other" memes

lmao i do too

I need you to know that “Bruce Wayne had frosted tips” is one of my favorite Bruce takes of all time it’s so galaxy brained. you’re right and you should say it

he also painted his hair blonde once when he was travelling and in conclusion, this is why he's being blackmailed by the gotham gazette.

you know my thing about gordon being branded as the only good cop in gotham is its a load of shit like arguably he's a good person and not working to screw people over or anything but the fact that he also works w. batman makes him a shit cop. like yea batman is better than the mob but its still illegal its still an abuse of power he just not making bank

babe, all cops are bad cops. (but yeah youre absolutely right, working with vigilantes makes you a shit cop, but also working against vigilantes just makes you an asshole cop yanno?)

ruh roh i think i’m about to add “so not yeehaw” every time i don’t like something

that's a very good vocabulary upgrade

somehow i feel like steph already knew. like babs obviously knew but i feel like bruce got high/drunk in front of steph and started telling his boarding school stories and steph was just like “oh you fucked up i’m never gonna forget this”

steph and bruce have weird uncle/rebellious niece dynamic and they just hang out sometimes and bruce will be like 'i once broke my arm when i tripped over a hedge when i was drunk so oliver drove me to the hospital on an electric scooter' and steph will just have to sit there with that knowledge in her head.

Hello I just wanted to tell you you are So right in all your steph opinions bc she is, in fact amazing and I think that's very sexy of you. Ps. Your Bruce/Oliver fic is hilarious

babe, thank you so much and yes steph is amazing and i love her and she deserves the world and she's the best member of the batfam hands down. also thanks

In Supersons we see a couple of kids that are implied to be Damian and Jon's children and the boy has laser eyes and can fly, so I asume he's not adopted. The girl, who calls Bruce grandpa, can also fly, btw. So it's canon (probably by accident) that Jon can have kids and he must have married one of Bruce's kids. (I'm hoping for Damian, mostly because any other of his children would be waaaaaaaaaaaaay too old.) @artemisa97

lmao that was probably an accident seeing as jon is a 17 year old superhero in the year 3000 (by the jonas brothers)

You know, I'm a die hard fan of your memes, but I gotta say one thing: if Gothamites actually took gas mask everywhere with them, then the Scarecrow would just be a weird dude in a weird costume, and not a villain oh so scary. DC really should just takes notes from you.

bold of you to assume there's no gothamite anti-maskers

How does it feel being the funniest person on this app?

horrible, next question.

I can't listen to Green Day or Billy Joel without thinking of your post about how Bruce got arrested at a Billy Joel concert @nightwings-kid

yeah that's your mistake, i on the other hand can't enjoy billy joel without thinking about the glee rendition of 'uptown girl'

I've FINALLY been watching the Batman animated series and I gotta say, after watching "the gray ghost" I am CONVINCED that Batman is a closeted super hero geek who was 100% freaking out the first time he met Superman and is just REALLY good at hiding it.

superman: so what do you do in your free time? batman, thinking about the superman fanfiction he's writing on the batcomputer: i have no free time

bruce and oliver be like boyfriends to co-workers 401k (do the justice leagues get 401ks??? not that bruce and ollie would need them, but-)

lmao yes just 400 thousand words of bruce realising 'oh dip oliver is such a fucking dumbass' (also i don't know what a 401 k is but i assume they don't?)

Gothamites would totally boo superman as he saves Gotham while batman is out. @meenje

he's like 'okay think about that next time you want to be saved from an alien octopus'

I just took long break from dc comics and I come back to see ric grayson ??

i think it's very cool and sexy of dc to see dick and just think 'you know what? let's just give him a traumatic brain injury' and then didn't develop his character in any real way

SPEAKING OF RIC GRAYSON, gothamites making confused memes out of ric grayson is much needed

'dick grayson is my taxi driver? can anyone explain what the fuck happened he looks like an italian plumber?'

i hate to say it but batfam are def "marvel characters" in that sense they are characters who are human but become superheroes unlike most dc characters who are gods trying to be human maybe this is why I like batfam

fair enough

[lazarettta]

Misthios VII

Pairing (Mother Miranda x Spartan!Reader)

Rating (M)

Word Count (4.6k)

Warning (probably language right now)

You and Miranda are finally moving on to having that long chat that's separated you both for centuries.

The Queen's eyes fluttered open, finally waking with the morning rays of the sun peaking over the mountain. Her balcony doors were wide open to let the cool night breeze into her personal chambers while the two fireplaces burned well into the night. It was a combination of warm and cool that her majesty enjoyed greatly as it helped her with sleep.

Of course, sharing her bed with you also aided with her troubles with sleep for the past few months since your arrival to the region. Wonderful in all the ways she could never have imagined; a warrior and a lover, the two things that made her life easier—and the lives of her enemies that much worse.

It had been well past dinner time when you returned to the castle along with the squadron of soldiers you'd gone with including a Captain of the military who was leading the raid. Part of your armor had been slashed and torn, stained with blood and whatever else you encountered outside of the castle walls.

But when Miranda stood in the doorway of her private bath watching as you stripped of your amour—she witnessed no open wounds for her to tend to or fret over, but blood stained your skin anyway. Even though she knew that she should have the moment she noticed: Miranda never questioned why you'd always have a new scar every other day or why your shirts had the evidence of a stab wound taking place right above your hip, including a blood stain, but all you could do was smile when asked about it.

“ Is everything alright, your majesty?”

Miranda blinked, her mind coming back to reality now finding herself sitting up in her bed currently being blinded by the morning sun. The Queen sighed heavily, looking down at your sleeping form—as always you were on your back with one arm tucked beneath one of the pillows behind your head and the other was being used as Miranda's pillow for most of the night. As always.

Like herself, you were bare as the day you were born...your entire torso shamelessly revealed for her roaming insatiable eyes...and she smirked when a particularly cool breeze swept through the room. She watched the goosebumps rise under your exposed skin, including your nipples making Miranda hum softly.

“ Y-your majesty?”

Miranda, suddenly remembering just what, or rather who, had bothered her before and looked towards the girl, pleased when she saw that her eyes were on the floor.

“ Everything is more than alright, girl, however you may leave... I'll be out shortly.”

A hand curling around her waist brought Miranda's gaze from the closing double doors where the meek girl disappeared through and back to you. Your eyes were still closed but you were starting to wake up, stretching like a feline and again Miranda's eyes were drawn to your chest.

“ Carved by the Gods,” she mumbled, the tips of her nails tracing your firm abdomen with no particular pattern, simply enjoying the light marks she was leaving behind around your belly button, knowing how much you enjoyed when she did that as well.

You saw the thoughtful look on Miranda's face when you opened your eyes but you couldn't stop the giant yawn from escaping, “Morning,”

Miranda smiled down at you, enjoying the way the sun made your skin glow but you weren't fooled by that smile—you were used to Miranda's smiles and this was one of her worries. The sort of smile where she wanted to reassure you while scolding you at the same time. You pulled away slightly, and sat up a bit so you could give her your full attention. When the monarch remained silent, simply staring at you, all you could do was raise an eyebrow...waiting.

Miranda scoffed at the action, shaking her head, “It's ironic isn't it, how we the others tales...but we do not truly know each other, do we?”

You shrugged, smirking at her—refusing to hint at the nerves beginning to crawl up your spine, “Pretty sure we know each other inside and out, your highness.”

Miranda gave you a look, clearly unimpressed, “Yes, beneath that charm and nonchalance...is something quite fascinating, isn't there? And...it seems that your truth only comes to light during battle.”

“ Pardon?” you sat up a little more now, eyebrows furrowed—unsure where Miranda was going with this but you no doubt that it probably wasn't going to be good for you. Especially since you're naked and vulnerable but not defenseless.

“ Captain Ake came to me last night after I left you to your bath, he seemed quite concerned with something...and quite frankly, I'm curious myself.” Miranda's hand had stopped tracing patterns on your stomach, but her hand still lingered...and the moment her index finger traced over the raised skin right next to your belly button, the brand new one, you knew you fucked up.

“ About what?” You mumbled not daring to look down at her hand, and her eyes burned into yours—playing dumb would only get you so far—probably the dungeons if you were lucky. You knew exactly what Ake was concerned with though you weren't sure if he actually saw you take a sword through your gut as it was so dark and everything happened within a blink or two.

“ What I am going to say next may sound crazy, however, Captain Ake is one of my most loyal subject in this castle, and quite sane...he claims to have witnessed you being impaled,” Miranda exhaled slowly, “By the enemy...and somehow managed to walk away from it, unharmed. Would you mind telling me what happened, my dear?”

You stared at her for a second, “And...you believed him? Could I have really been stabbed by a sword and do what I did last night? Do you know how insane you sound?”

“ Watch your tongue! You're still addressing your Queen, warrior.”

“ I'm sorry, but you seriously don't believe that shit do you?”

“ I've been noticing a few things myself, (Y/n)...and I would really like some answers myself.”

“ Right. I'll take that as my signal to leave, your majesty. Thanks for letting me sleep here last night.”

Miranda's eyes narrowed slightly, reaching out to grab your wrist to prevent you from running from her, “(Y/n), do not run from me...I'm only trying to understand! You can trust me, this I promise you, I'm not going to hurt you.”

You wanted to believe her, but you had to learn the hard way that trust was nothing but a word—a word that can be broken over and over. You were too stupid to learn in the past but you weren't about to do the same thing now. Pushing the covers aside you threw some mundane excuse over your shoulder but before you could actually get to the edge of the bed, you were pulled back and pushed back into your previous position. It didn't actually hurt but it wasn't gentle either but you were pretty sure that it was Miranda that moved you, but you hadn't actually felt or seen her move a muscle.

“ W...how? Miranda?!”

Miranda smiled shyly at your bewildered expression—a very rare expression from the Queen but like yourself, she was feeling quite vulnerable, “You're not alone, (Y/n)...and neither am I.”

“ Neither....are you?” Miranda chuckled at your expression and your inability to put two and two together. When you tried to sit back up, Miranda's shy smile morphed into something more amused and predatory because you realized that you couldn't move—and Miranda still hadn't moved an inch.

“ Ah, now do I have your full attention?”

The closer you got to Miranda's home the more treacherous the path became and you'd lost sight of the woman flying low above the trees ten minutes ago—or what you thought to be ten minutes, you weren't sure. Your eyes were glued to the ground, keeping a firm but relaxed grip on the reign of your stallion, Bruce, whispering gently to him. Alcina called him a gentle giant and she wasn't exaggerating. The path was narrow and very unkempt but you wouldn't expect Miranda to make things easy, especially access to her private home.

There was a point that you weren't even sure you and Bruce were actually going to make it across but there was no way you could've turned the massive horse around either, forward was the only way and you weren't ashamed to admit that your heart was pounding hard enough to crack bones. The moment you cleared the trees, Miranda's home finally came into view—and you were not disappointed. It was a simple two story cabin practically etched into the mountain and you wanted to know how the hell she managed to get this place on the sliver of rock.

You'd brought Bruce to a stop just as Miranda appeared and landed gracefully on her porch even with her heels on (you caught a glimpse of them earlier when she started flying). From her porch alone, Miranda had a perfect view of everything . The village, the manor sitting on the waterfall, the factory and of course the castle. There was a light blanket of fog obscuring most of the view, but it was still breathtaking all the same.

You dismounted Bruce easily, gently guiding him to the post next to Miranda's porch. You fed him a few sugar cubes, gingerly untangling part of his dark mane and pulling free a few twigs and leaves.

“Further up the path I have there's a stable for him, we can take him later.”

You turned to look at Miranda, finding her standing in the door looking at you, her expression unreadable and you were too tired to try and decipher it. You double checked the post before steeling your nerves and joining her on her porch, it was roomier than it actually looked and you spotted a hammock on the other corner—not the usual netted sort, it looked like a quilt and quite comfortable too.

You followed Miranda inside, shutting out the cold—the interior of Miranda's home had you stock still at the front door with your hand still on the door knob. The space was open, having the living room and the eating area open with no barrier, and you could easily see the kitchen from where you stood. It was...cozy and warm.

“Surprised?” Miranda's voice brought your eyes to where she was, now half way up the stairs behind the kitchen wall, she wore a soft smile, the front of her robes already opened (you didn't even realize the fucking thing even had a zipper), revealing the slacks and blouse she wore underneath, “Did you expect me to live in a cave?”

“I expected you to at least have a TV.”

Miranda smirked but it didn't reach her eyes, “Are you going to stand there bitching about the lack of media corruption or do you want that shower?”

Your hand finally relaxed off of the door knob, the light throbbing resulting in just how hard you were holding the poor thing. You kicked off your boots at the door—they were covered in mud, snow and probably horse shit at some point, they were filthy. And the last thing you wanted to do was dirty up Miranda's wood floors.

She waited until you were on the stairs to continue up herself while slipping her robe from her shoulders and casually throwing it over her arm as if it were just a towel. “There are only three rooms on this floor. My own, the guest room and the bathroom.”

You raised an eyebrow, “One bathroom?”

“I don't exactly keep guests, dear.”

“So then why the extra bedroom?” you were being a shit, you knew it, but you couldn't help it—Miranda made it easy for you to tease her sometimes (all the time). You wanted to be more bothered over how easy it was for you to fall back into old habits with this woman.

“The longer you stand there being an idiot, the colder your water gets.”

You raised your hands slightly, moving past her towards the door she pointed to, flipping on the light—it was roomier than you expected it to be, dark and a bit modern but Miranda somehow still managed to keep it grand and medieval. The floor was made of stone, there was a grand shower with a curved glass door and next to it was a bear claw of a tub, melded into the floor like it was a hot spring. Across the floor was a single sink and a mirror, and next to it a door where you assumed you'd find the towels and toiletries. Just past the tub, was the toilet though there was a half wall there to offer some privacy and you spotted your backpack sitting on top of it neatly and that finally gave you pause.

“Figured you didn't want to walk around naked or wearing any of my clothes.”

You hadn't even noticed that you had actually walked into the bathroom, admiring it's simple yet beautiful décor or that Miranda followed you in until the shower sprung to life next to you.

She smiled at you apologetically, not having meant to startle you—but seeing you so easily bothered helped put her at ease. Miranda was good at hiding it, but she was quite nervous. Having you so near and so far from her at the same time in the comfort of her own home, her sanctuary—none of the other Lord's knew where she lived, they probably thought she lived in a cave or a nest or something. You were Miranda's first house guest since she arrived in this village.

She closed the shower door, watching you open your backpack—checking through it, and she couldn't stop the small smile from forming after you smirked, realizing that you were still without your weapons. But you didn't make a comment on it, instead beginning to pull out the things that you needed—until you realized that she was still in the room as well.

You raised an eyebrow at Miranda, and her smile only grew but the blonde simply shrugged her wings and tucked her wings tighter to her back as she exited the room, “I'll be downstairs when you're finished...”

“Miranda—”

She paused and you froze, fuck, why did you do that? You hadn't meant to call out to her, but your mouth was faster than your brain sometimes and now she was looking at you expectantly and all you could do was stare at her like a jackass. There was so much, too much, that you wanted to say but where could you even start? Why were you getting this courage in the fucking bathroom of all places?

“Downstairs.” She reminded you gently when the silence stretched too long—you had panicked and she saw that, and instead of jumping on you like the predator you knew that she was fully capable of being—she left you alone to your thoughts and the hot water steaming the room, calling your name. It was a welcome distraction even if it wouldn't be a forever one.

“Being immortal really is overrated.”

Miranda didn't go downstairs immediately, instead making a beeline for her bedroom and closed the door behind her but left it ajar enough for her to still hear you in the bathroom. Miranda carefully hung up her 'Mother Miranda' robe and began stripping out of the clothes she's been wearing for the past two days along with her rings; finally taking off the crown of Mother and just becoming Miranda with every stitch of clothing she removed from her flawless skin.

Standing naked in front of her full-length mirror, Miranda whispered a delicate but very familiar spell she's known since she was a small child and she winced quietly as her wings folded back into her body for the next six or seven hours. The spell wasn't forever but Miranda often used it when she was home to avoid breaking her things as she often did if she let her wings remain as they were, they often got restless if she stayed home and still too long so she just opted for putting them away to save herself the trouble. And money.

When the last two smaller ones on her lower back finally retreated into her skin, Miranda rolled her shoulders to pop out the kinks. She got dressed in a pair of washed out pants and a v-neck shirt, and at the last minute Miranda threw on her dark wool cardigan before heading back downstairs but not before pausing outside of the bathroom door. She heard you humming over the shower and though she didn't recognize the song, it still made her smile.

Suddenly feeling like a creeper, Miranda moved away from the door and went downstairs to start on the coffee she was craving earlier. She got her fireplace going but that all took less than ten minutes and now she found herself back in her kitchen, pulling ingredients from her refrigerator to give her something to do besides fret.

“ You shouldn't be so comfortable with your champion, in public.” Fritjof complained for the thousandth time in her ear—he was one of her primary advisors, having been employed by her late husband, the former King. He was always a bit of an annoyance, but he often proved himself useful and unwittingly saved his own life time to time from Miranda's ire.

“ I was only congratulating her on another victorious raid on a neighboring kingdom that thought it wise to steal from us, or have you forgotten that little fact, Fritjof?”

He frowned, not liking her tone but he quickly corrected his features knowing that they were still in the halls on their way to the Queen's study, but there were still eyes on them, “I...yes, but it sends the wrong message when you send a blood wolf to handle this kingdoms affairs instead of your loyal officers! You make us all look weak!”

Miranda stopped walking, and whirled around on Fritjof, her coat wrapping around her leather clad legs as she did so, and the frail man jumped back a step, knowing that he overstepped a line severely, “A-apologies—”

“ You will apologize with your tongue!” Miranda hissed, “Though I'm sure (Y/n) would rather have your head for all the times you've questioned her loyalty to this kingdom! We're coming up on eight years, Fritjof, and (Y/n) has helped this kingdom prosper more than you ever could've in your twenty years with my late husband.” Miranda sneered dangerously, edging closer to him and the terrified man could only back up into the table, knocking over a vase but Miranda paid it no mind, “One more word about this and I will have you removed. Permanently.”

Fritjof swallowed harshly, beads of sweat forming at his hairline and rolling down his face, and Miranda's sneer deepened in disgust, “Please, your highness, I'm only looking out for the future of the kingdom! It—it needs an heir and a King! The other kingdoms will never recognize your power without either—” his words were cut off when Miranda struck him down, a single line of blood staining a portrait on the wall behind him. Miranda struck faster than he could react and Fritjof cried out in pain, alerting the guards who came running but stopped when they saw their Sovereign standing over the slimy advisor holding part of his face, blood starting to seep through his fingers.

“ For every brilliant woman, there's always a stupid man thing to be found.” Miranda stepped over his pathetic body and continued on her way, rolling her shoulders back when her back began to twinge in response to her high and irritated emotions, and she needed release. “Get him out of my sight and find my champion; send her to me when you do.”

“ Yes, my Queen.” They both replied, one of them roughly hauling Fritjof to his feet and pushing him forward, but not before the man could cast one last glance at Miranda's retreating back until he was shoved forward. “Move!”

The cabin was filled with the aroma of sweet bread and coffee and your stomach was growling something vicious halfway down the stairs after you put your back in the guest room. Miranda had her back to you and you took the moment to stop at the bottom of the stairs to just observe her. The very first thing you noticed was that her wings were gone and she was more relaxed—it probably had a lot to do with her being in her own home, and it was starting to make more sense why she wanted to be in the comfort of her own home for this conversation. Though her argument for privacy was valid as well.

Your eyes flickered around the open space, spotting something tucked in the corner of the living room and scoffed without meaning to and alerting Miranda of your presence, if she wasn't already. She turned from her task of fixing you both something to eat to watch you walk across the room to where the object of your interest lay with a carefully crafted expression.

“Didn't take you for owning a rifle.”

“It's ten years old, I believe.” Miranda hummed quietly, dusting off her hands before taking down a couple of plates from the cabinet above the stove. You looked at her when she didn't elaborate, really curious now.

“It's in pretty good condition, really beautiful...where did you get it?” you checked the clip and saw that there were exactly ten rounds in there. When Miranda didn't answer you immediately, you found her watching you.

“It's not mine.” Miranda set the plates at the small eating table that could easily seat two other people, “I took it from a witch hunter as he was so kind to come all this way to visit. He tried to kill me in my sleep like a coward. He intrudes upon my home and couldn't be bothered to give me an honorable death. The audacity of men certainly hasn't changed over the years.”

Her tone was not lost on you and you knew that the witch hunter was long dead. You traced the steel design grip, impressed at the detail—and distracted.

“Oh, so now you hate men?” Ah... and once again your mouth was faster than your brain could process, and just like that her eyes were on your back—you felt it.

“I've always hated men, (Y/n). I...” she sighed harshly, her eyes turning into a glare, “Stop doing that, you don't have the entire story so if you're done being an ass and running from this conversation—I would really like to clear the air between us so we can move on from this.”

“You mean your truth that you want me to hear so badly?” You chuckled though it lacked any amusement. You set the rifle down, finally giving her your full attention then sighed heavily—a sudden exhaustion falling over you, “Would it really matter at this point, Miranda? It happened centuries ago...we both moved on, why do you want to drudge this back up?”

“Why don't you?” Miranda moved around the table, the coffee and snack forgotten in the moment, but she didn't try to approach you, “I'm not the only one who was in the wrong, (Y/n).”

“Do you think I cared about your status when I found out the woman I loved married a man behind my back and didn't even fucking tell me! I had to find out in the middle of that stupid ball you wanted to throw so bad after we invaded those rebellion villages. I gave you everything and you betrayed me . I crossed lines for you, Miranda. I thought that would warrant enough decency to be honest with me. I-”

You stopped, your face was hot and you exhaled heavily—doing your best not to sniffle, you hated that you were the type to fucking cry when your emotions bubbled to the surface too fast. Especially when the topic is something you've buried long deep in the dark corners of your mind with no hope for daylight again. You just never thought you'd bump into your past like this. And it's been years since you've had to deal with anything on a personal level after your last child passed away fifty years ago at the tender age of eighty-six.

Miranda saw the emotions playing across your face with a frown but otherwise her own emotions were carefully hidden, she was always better at that than you were, and inched closer, “(Y/n)...”

“We've both obviously lived with this hurt and came out fine,” you cut her off, not looking at her but instead at your bare toes with your hands back in your pockets, “What's closure gonna do besides bring up old hurt?”

“No, that's not it at all, I just...” Miranda coughed lightly and cleared her throat,—your question was valid as she's asked herself this many times before, asking herself why she didn't just let you go in the forest—she could've let you go and saved you both from this reopened wound. But she didn't because she couldn't and Miranda wouldn't apologize for it. Because she's always been a selfish woman, and one of her most selfish needs—even when she first laid eyes on you—she knew that you were hers. That never changed, time could never take that away from her.

“This life is long and lonely, (Y/n)...and I've made many mistakes, most I will never have a chance to atone for...and when I saw you,” Miranda looked into your eyes and bit her bottom lip, you weren't even looking at her anymore, “I've lost so much in this life, and I refused to lose you a second time. The first time I was...I was corrupted with greed and power, but I was stupid and it cost me everything too, (Y/n).”

You looked up, surprised by her words, “He took your kingdom from you, didn't he?”

“ You!” Miranda moved closer, though you hardly noticed because you were focused on her eyes that were duller than they were down in the village but just as clear, bright and brimming with tears, “He took you from me. He took us away from each other, (Y/n). I'm not innocent in it either, I...I could've done something about it, but I didn't and it was the biggest mistake I could've made in my entire existence. And I think about it more than I care to admit, I think about you...wondering what sort of life we could've shared together had I made better choices. I'm...I'm sorry, (Y/n).”

Miranda was close enough to touch you now, and this time she didn't hesitate nor did you pull away when both of her hands cupped your cheeks, making you shiver. “Miranda...”

Miranda's hands tightened on your face, obviously thinking you were about to argue again but you were tired of arguing with her, over this...before she could speak, you took Miranda by surprise and pulled her into a tight embrace, both of your arms around her waist and you caught her when her entire body sagged in your arms. You had no idea what was going to happen after this, but that little piece of you that longed for the closure you never got...began to grow.

“I'll stay.”

[kineticpenguin]

Gordon Freeman, literally just a geek in power armor: It was just another day at the lab until all hell broke loose. I haven’t even had a chance to stop and analyze what happened. As soon as I crawled out of the Anomalous Materials Lab, it was several days straight of shooting almost anything that moved and jumping across increasingly implausible infrastructure. Christ, I went to a crazy alien world and blew up a baby the size of a house. I might die of sleep deprivation and I’m kinda hoping I will because I don’t know if I will ever be able to sleep again

Gordon Freeman, some schmuck on a train:  Oh wow it was all a crazy dream, thank God, haha. Oh... wait... oh no. Why the fuck am I in eastern Europe- BREEN IS BIG FUCKING BROTHER WHAT (mental keysmashing) WHY AM I BEING ARRESTED HOLY SHIT THAT GUY IS GONNA BE TORTURED THIS IS A TORTURE ROOM HE’S GONNA NEED HIM SOME PRIVACY FOR THIS WHERE IS MY CROWBAR- w. Barney. Barneybarneybarneybarneybarney. Why are you like 43 what the fuck is- OKAY no time to explain I get it I’m going, jesus, what the hell.

Gordon Freeman, some schmuck in a dystopia: okay. Avoid the cops. Just gotta avoid the cops. Just like back home. hah. Maybe I can hole up in here, figure out what to do next- OF COURSE THEY’RE RAIDING IT. OH GOD SURE MAN HOLD THE DOOR I’M AUDI MAN CHRIST THEY’RE SHOOTING AT ME I GOTTA FUCKING GET OUTTA HERE AAAAAAAAAAAH OH NO, NONONONONO-

Gordon Freeman, stunstick victim: thank you ma’am I owe you my life. wait your dad is Eli? he never mentioned a daughter your age- wait, you said your name is alyx? Alyx Vance? My goddaughter? OKAY FINE SURE WHY THE HELL NOT OKAY HEY HI IZZIE WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON hell yes I will put on the new and improved HEV suit. I am not even worried about your fucking pet headcrab. Where is the helmet. Dr. Kleiner where is the helmet. I need the helmet to protect my head. Dr. Kleiner please my head needs all the protection it can get right now. Fine, I’ll get in your stupid teleporter which is totally giving me flashbacks to 5 days ago aaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAH-

Barney: blah blah blah, blah blah blah blah blah. Oh, and here: I think you dropped this back at black Mesa *drops a crowbar to Gordon*

Gordon, a deeply traumatized geek back in his power armor: *firmly gripping the crowbar* Finally, something I understand: violence

[ev-pierce-writes]

Alone

The Heir Chapter 4

Pairing: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11K

Warnings: I can’t even remember.

___

Din pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, believing you to be asleep, but needing to say these next words anyway.

"I know I won't always be around. I can't always stay. But I'll always come back. I promise."

But you weren't asleep and you heard every word, though you didn't acknowledge what he'd said. Don't make any promises you can't keep, you thought.

In the morning he was gone, likely off to train with Zena. You'd woken long enough to catch him slipping away at dawn, watching in the twilight as he dressed. Din held your hand a moment before he left, kissing your knuckles gently and then tucking you back into the sheets.

You weren't sure why, but after last night, something in you had changed. Din was right, you didn't want to be alone anymore, but that realization didn't relieve you. It only made things harder. He would have to leave eventually, one way or another, and he was under no obligation to return. Falling even more for him than you already had was foolish.

And yet, what you truly wanted was to reach out and grab hold of him, let your sensibilities and affections wrap around him like vines, entangle yourself with him and grow roots at his feet. It didn't matter to you where those roots grew as long as they grew alongside his.

These were your thoughts as you slipped back into a restless sleep, too chilly without his warm body next to yours to be content. When you awoke again, several hours later, instead of feeling comforted by the clarity of your feelings, you felt guilty. Nhora was your home, these were your roots; this is where you grew and prospered and this is where you'd always stay. How could you even think about abandoning it all, especially for a man you hardly knew? Yet somehow, Din's arms were as familiar as your own, like you were meant to fall asleep in them every night, and the thought that you wouldn't scared you.

You resolved it was best to not get too close, to hold him at arm's length as long as you could. His company was enjoyable and nothing more than that. You couldn't let it be any more than that.

You were ashamed by how painful that thought was to you.

Instead of dwelling, you sat up in bed to shake yourself from your reverie and realized you needed a shower, though not to wash yesterday away. There was something exhilarating about still wearing Din's smell, musky and evocative. But your skin was a little sticky everywhere, your arms, your legs, your chest, and somehow between your thighs--

And then you remembered asking--no, demanding--he come inside you. A thrill went up your spine at the reminder of how good it had felt to have him under your spell and listening to your desires. He hadn't wavered or questioned, just found release beneath you. The memory of his searing lips and calloused hands making trails across your skin made heat rise on your face and your thighs clench together beneath the sheets. Thank the Maker for injections because you were ready to do it all over again.

A knock at your door brought you back to the present, too polite to be Zena but too assertive to be Din, and then the voice of your maid asking if you were awake. You had nearly forgotten about today, the fertility festival, the religious functions, the diplomatic dinner. You flopped back onto the pillows again with a groan.

"Yes, I'm awake," you called out half-heartedly, and your maid took that as a sign to enter. You'd completely forgotten about your state of dress, or more accurately the lack thereof. The poor girl froze in shock at you nude in bed, your nightclothes still strewn about the room from last night's escapades.

"I'm so sorry, Your Majesty," she said, covering her eyes with one hand. "I've brought your tea. Would you like me to help you dress?"

"A shower first, Madi. Then yes, I'll need something appropriate for today."

---

Din had a hard time getting up that morning. What he really wanted was to be the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes, to kiss you good morning and taste what lingered from last night on your tongue. But he knew Zena would be suspicious if he bailed, and that was the last thing he wanted, someone knowing about what had happened.

Not that he was ashamed. But it didn't seem like his secret to tell.

He did his best to remain focused on the task at hand, sparring Zena and the others she practiced with. Din wasn't sure who they were, he only knew he was getting his ass handed to him because he couldn't pull his thoughts away from you. Twice now you were a distraction and a liability that had him losing a fight he should have easily won. And he didn't care.

What he needed to do was rely on his instincts and his senses the way he normally did. But every time he tried, you overcame them, your voice in his ear, your touch on his arm, your image flickering in his periphery.

At last, battered and bruised, he gave up trying to ignore you and let you in instead, let you occupy space in his head alongside his instincts. And somehow, it worked. Din doubled down hard, finally taking down the three warriors attacking him without his trusty blaster or vambraces and with his hands alone.

There was something to be said about leaning into his weaknesses.

---

You stepped out of the shower, warm and clean, to find your maid again frozen in shock, this time in the middle of your room, staring at the door frame. Or rather, what occupied the door frame, leaning against it with one shoulder, arms crossed. The Mandalorian was patiently waiting for you to finish your shower but to the poor maid, he looked severely threatening in his armor and helmet. To you, however, his presence did not ignite dread but desire. One glance at him at your door and your resolve to hold him at a distance had completely dissolved. Way to go, you thought.

But it was easy to soften under Din's gaze. Beneath his stoic demeanor you knew was hidden something softer and in desperate need of caring and guidance. The thought of such a powerful man leaning into you, following you, relenting to your hand, was a little too exciting to be decent.

The maid yelped when you said her name, breaking her fear-stricken stare. "It's alright, Madi. You can leave. I'll get dressed on my own."

The girl did not hesitate to sprint out the door and disappear down the hallway, but Din hardly noticed her. He was accustomed to people fearing him. What he did notice, and felt no shame in eyeing up, were your glistening shoulders, still wet from the shower, and the just-too-small towel wrapped around you. He basked in the warmth you lit inside him, the invasive thoughts that had plagued him all morning materializing before him in the image of you.

"Are you going to come in or just stand there and ogle me like some kind of pervert?"

"You have no idea what my eyes are doing under the helmet," Din said, his voice even and modulated. "I could be...admiring your face."

Despite the obvious lie, Din did step into the room and close the door behind him, locking it as well, just in case the maid decided to return. Din hadn't expected to find her in your room when he returned from training. He'd hoped you would still be in bed and he could join you. But this was in some ways even better, he thought.

Though you'd turned away from Din to rummage through your underwear drawer, you watched him through the mirror above your dresser as he stepped closer, removing his gloves as he did so. You pretended not to notice his advancement, pretended not to notice as he dropped them, landing with a smack on the floor, sending your heart into freefall. There wasn't anything inherently sexual about the move, but your mind flew there anyway, to those big hands roving all over your body.

You turned your attention back to the task at hand, knowing without seeing that Din had taken another step to stand right behind you. When you glanced up again, underwear in hand, his presence sent a jolt of electricity across your skin. Through the mirror, you could see just how much he towered over you, intimidating and immovable, and how small you felt beneath him. Anyone else would have immediately cowered in fear, but you were drawn to that power, like a magnet to his beskar armor.

Din pulled off his helmet with a hydraulic hiss, placing on the dresser beside you with a thunk, and then his hand found the back of your neck to move your wet hair to the side. You knew by now what he was doing, that his intentions were to inflame you the way you did to him. He had you trapped between his armored body and the dresser, a hand leaning on either side to cage you in. Your eyes tried to flutter closed in anticipation of his touch but you forced them open again, wanting to watch in the mirror as Din lowered his lips to your shoulder and kissed all the way up your neck, only stopping when he reached the tender point behind your ear.

Goosebumps rose in the wake of his lips, which were so incredibly warm against the coolness of your wet skin. His comforting presence was back, along with his musky sweet smell, and you were relieved to be enveloped in it after washing it away in the shower.

"I can't stop thinking about you, Angel," he whispered, the tickle of his unshaven face against your ear sending warmth rushing through your tummy. "It's not even nine in the morning and you've already occupied every one of my waking thoughts."

"Oh Maker, if you keep that up I will fuck you again," you gasped. Where did that come from? The words slipped out of your mouth before you even had the chance to think about them. Fuck, just his voice had you clenching your thighs to suppress the heat building between them.

"I'm not opposed." Din's voice was a low growl, a baritone you hadn't heard from him yet.

You turned around to face him so you could place the hand not holding up your towel in between his chest and yours. Big mistake. The panties you'd pulled from the drawer were still in that hand, now pressed against his chest plate. He fingered the fabric with a smirk.

"These are nice," he said, the smirk evident in his tone. He had the upper hand in this battle of words, a blush creeping up your cheeks and revealing exactly how he was making you feel.

"Picture me wearing them if you like them so much."

You withdrew your hand and hid it behind you, snatching the lacy fabric from his fingers and trying to regain some control over the situation. You hoped the action would stall his advances long enough for you to steady your breathing.

But it only gave him better access to kiss your lips. The hesitation you'd felt from him last night was gone, his timidness replaced with confidence. Din savored each kiss, pushing his tongue into your mouth, taking the time to memorize it inside and out. And despite your better judgment, you allowed him to keep going. The position did little to stop his obstinate hands from slipping under your towel and caressing the supple curves of your ass, his big palms gripping handfuls of flesh and dragging your hips to his. You pondered momentarily the consequences of him leaving his mark on your ass cheeks, then decided you liked it.

You shivered, almost relenting and taking him right then and there, but decided on a different tactic, one a bit less gratifying in the short term, but in the long run, would have him on his knees for you. And that was far more satisfying than fucking him as soon as it took to get his armor off. Din was welcome to get you all flustered, but two could play this game. So you let him press you against the dresser and grind his hips against yours, his hunger written in the bulge in his pants. If he was offering, you would take it, and you gladly palmed him through the rough fabric of his pants.

"You're a fucking tease," he breathed against your mouth. Din had thought he held control over his arousal but your simple existence was enough to get him riled up.

"You like it, don't you, baby?"

With your words, the dynamic flipped, and Din was melting at the sound of his pet name.

"Yes, Angel, keep going."

He was doing an impressive job at staying composed despite your tormenting, despite the fingers unbuttoning his pants and pulling down the zipper. Your hand slipped around his semi-hard length, still trapped by his underwear, and gave it a gentle stroke. Finally, his resolve seemed to break a bit and he breathed a ragged moan, repeating his pleas for you to continue.

"I could keep going. But I have things to do today." You pulled your hand away, leaving Din hard and unsatisfied by your touch. He groaned pitifully in protest and you almost continued. Almost. "We have things to do today, obligations to which I expect you to attend. And I'm clean and you're not and you're making me all dirty again with your post-workout sweatiness."

"Fuck, Angel, why?" Kiss. "Why do I have to go?"

"Because this--" Kiss. "--is what leaders do. They make appearances--" Kiss. "--even when they don't want to. So get in the shower. You can use mine."

"Is that an order, Your Majesty?" Din had a sly smile on his face that made you think he was enjoying this a bit too much, in spite of your taunting and his unfinished problem.

"Yes, Mando, that is an order." You pressed your fingers to his lips, telling him silently to comply, and let your face drop to its most serious, donning the expression you used to direct your advisors and command your guards. "Get in the shower."

He faltered for a moment at your tone and then broke out into a grin. "Your wish is my command."

With an airy kiss to your fingers which had moments ago been used to shut him up, he gave your ass a final squeeze and pulled away to walk into the bathroom.

"Oh, and Din," you called out as he reached the doorway. He turned back just as you released your towel, allowing it to drop to the ground, and finally giving him the view he'd been quietly begging for. "You can think about me all you like. But don't touch yourself. Your cock is all mine."

---

Torture. You were absolute torture. Din would have been fine if you hadn't said those words. But ordering him to not touch himself while you asked him to think about you anyways was too much. And yet, he did what you asked, withholding his touch, even though his blood pumped coarsely through his veins into his swollen member. He breathed deeply the steam of the hot shower, filling his lungs with the scent of your soap, the reminder of you a cloud that fogged his brain, ever-present.

Of course, you were no longer in your bedroom when Din finished his shower, having left him to wonder how long you planned to invade his thoughts and compel him to hold back. And though it was torture, he loved it.

Din was used to being in control. How many had he fought, hunted, killed to maintain it? When he entered a fight, Din could almost guarantee he'd be the one to make it out alive. The moment he stepped into a room, the air would change and shift in deference of him. And yet, here he was, relinquishing to you the control he worked so hard to sustain. The feeling was wonderfully exhilarating, intoxicating even.

He wasn't sure how he was going to make it through this day.

---

"It's going to rain," you said to no one in particular.

You were standing at the entrance to the palace, Zena and a few guards gathered around you in preparation of making the short trip to the temple. Outside, the surrounding grounds and streets that led into the city were bustling with activity, the warmth of the day now in full force and drawing people from their homes and to the market.

In a few hours, people within the capitol and throughout the surrounding sectors would begin flocking to the temple as well, for the religious ceremony that precluded grand feasts and family meals alike. Eating seemed to be the preferred method of celebration on this planet, Din noted.

And why you thought it was going to rain, he had no idea. A few sparse clouds had gathered on the horizon, but nothing that suggested a storm on the way. And yet you stood with your back to Din and stared out toward the grassy plains in the distance and the glaringly bright sky, sure of yourself.

Today, you wore a gown Din had yet to see. In fact, it was quite different from anything he'd ever seen you wear. Normally, several layers of robes and traditional royal garments swept around you and weighed you down. But today, you had donned a single piece, a shimmering silver gown, that floated in the breeze and left little to the imagination. Your headscarf was of a similar fabric, twisted around your head and out of the way. You looked no less regal, no less recognizable, only a bit more comfortable with yourself.

The royal canal boats finally arrived to take the small group to the temple, the Nhoran crest painted bright across its length. You sat towards the front of the first boat along with your guards, hidden partially by the boat's covered top, though it remained obvious who was aboard. People stopped and stared as the procession floated by, some even bowed and a few children waved.

Din joined Zena at the back of the second boat. He wasn't sure what was going on; no one had really cared to explain what was so special about the day or what the ceremony entailed. But he followed along out of curtousy and curiosity.

"Why are we going so early? Doesn't the ceremony not start for a while?" Din whispered to Zena who sat next to him.

"Her Majesty is following tradition. To honor ancestors, those who have come before, it is her duty to begin the day of thanks on her own. Mostly Her Majesty just takes the time to reflect and remember her mother and sister."

That was more of an answer than Din was expecting, and a bit somber too. Perhaps that was why you'd been reluctant about today's events. When the procession arrived, you went in alone, leaving everyone, including the guards, out on the entrance to the temple.

"She'll meet us upstairs. Come." Zena motioned for Din to follow her into the impressive building. He wasn't sure how he hadn't noticed it before. The temple mirrored the palace, a straight shot by foot or by boat across the marketplace. A tall glass dome sat atop the round structure, which from the inside cast beams of sunlight across the rows of seats.

Din followed up a grand set of stairs to the second floor, where smaller box seats looked out over the main floor and toward the alter. From up here, he could see the entirety of the building. He watched you down below as you crossed the long, narrow walkway that led from the entrance, through the seats, and toward the platform, where an older woman, obviously someone important, was waiting. He couldn't hear your words when you spoke, but you bowed in deep respect.

The High Priestess greeted you as you approached, taking your hand to help you step up onto the alter.

"Nineteen years," she said, and you nodded, usually preferring silence during these times. "Your mother would have been proud."

The priestess handed you the customary candle, and then departed to prepare for the ceremony, leaving you alone on the alter. You kneeled, and began.

Mother. Sister. Legacy. Ask the Maker for prosperity for your kingdom and health for yourself. Repeat ad nauseam until you think that heaven has listened. At one time you had asked for them back. Now, you simply lit the candle in remembrance of two people you didn't truly know.

This was supposed to be a time to reflect, a time to look back and appreciate, to thank and honor. But now, kneeling on the hard wooden floor of the temple, you could only think of the future, not the past. What was to become of your planet, your system, your galaxy? Thoughts of Bo-Katan, Mandalore, Din, the child, all swirled in your brain. It was easy to forget the troubles of the outside world when your own small bubble thrived. But every time you looked at Din, you weren't just aware of how much you were falling for him, but how much change he might be bringing to your planet and your people.

Here, now, this was meant to bring you guidance. It only brought confusion. So many emotions muddled your normally clear thoughts, fear, worry, insecurity. And yet, through it all, one sentiment shown above the others. You no longer felt alone.

---

You had been right. The early afternoon sunshine devolved into an evening storm, thick, expanding clouds collapsing into ropes of rain that washed the world anew. The sky gave a single warning, a clap of thunder and a bolt of lightning streaking through the black clouds, before breaking open all at once.

The religious ceremony ended, the priestess said her final words, and the crowd of people surged from the temple, heading home to begin preparing for feasts with family, friends, and everyone in between. At that very moment the rain began, not as a trickle, but as a downpour, heavy and pounding. It was a warm rain, the kind that brings a cool breeze but begins to steam back up into clouds the moment it hits the hot pavement.

Most people braved the storm, running into the downpour and through the market to shelter. Others gladly accepted covered taxi rides through the canals. A few remained in the temple, preferring to wait out the storm.

You stood watching them all from the open window of the private box, breathing in the smell of petrichor, unfazed by the droplets hitting your cheeks as the breeze sent the rain off its gravity-driven course. On your face was that look, the youthful, joyous one, that Din was starting to recognize in these fleeting moments. Zena placed your cape around your shoulders to ward off the chill, but you barely noticed, even when she asked if you preferred to wait for the storm to clear to head back or if you wanted the covered canal boat.

Zena made the decision for you when you remained silent, asking Ming to send for the driver. But by the time he'd arrived, the rain had slowed to barely a drizzle, even as thunder continued to rumble in the distance. The storm blew out as swiftly as it had come, the clouds parting slightly to allow the sinking sun to shine through and refract against the droplets of water clinging to every surface.

"Go ahead, Zena. Take Ming with you. I want to walk," you said, motioning for your advisor to take the boat.

"I can't let you go without protection."

"I'll take Mando," you replied, smiling innocently. Zena looked ready to argue, but then she relented.

"Alright, but if it starts to rain again don't blame me. We'll meet you for the banquet."

As the boat pushed off, you turned away, gathering the edges of your skirts in one hand and pulling your hood over your head. And then you began to walk, staying ahead of Din but keeping him close. You hadn't even asked if he wanted to come along; he simply fell into step behind you.

You were silent as you walked, stepping over puddles and avoiding rivulets that flowed from the street into the canal. Though it hadn't rained long, it had rained hard, and the water level of the canals had risen enough to rush a bit quicker alongside you, drowning out any need for conversation. Not that Din knew what to say. You hadn't spoken to him directly since this morning in your bedroom, and he was starting to wonder if you were having second thoughts. Then again, it was keeping you constantly at the forefront of his brain, trying to decipher each of your moves and glances and touches, and perhaps that was your intention.

The streets were still empty of people sheltering from the rain, and no one passed to stare at the odd pair, the young queen and her Mandalorian guard. You had been hesitant around Din throughout the morning, not knowing how to talk to him without your words or your voice betraying your emotions to the world. Any look you shared, any touch allowed, you felt sure would make the change in your relationship apparent to anyone with even half a pair of eyes, so you resigned to silence, knowing it was the only way to ensure no one suspected a thing.

Except now, you were alone with him. No advisors, no guards, no one even on the street to see you take his hand or walk alongside him. And yet, something about his brooding silence told you the distance you'd held him at for the past couple of hours was having the desired effect on him.

It wasn't intentional, this taunting. At least it didn't start like that. This morning in your bedroom you had really only wanted to make him sweat a bit, get a taste of his own medicine. But you'd liked it. And now you liked the thought of keeping the game going. When you'd told him not to touch himself, you hadn't expected him to comply. But the forced restraint you'd noticed from Din throughout the ceremony suggested otherwise. Your knees brushing in the temple, barely touching, the words spoken not out loud but through fleeting glances at the helmet that hid the face you longed to see, they all built upon the energy you'd electrified between the two of you.

Now, feeling his presence only a step behind you, the electricity sparked again, a thrill climbing your spine where you imagined his gaze to be lingering. The thunk of his boots kept time with your own steps, reminding you at all times that he had a full view of everything accentuated by the dress you'd chosen. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't picked out this exact dress for his pleasure and his pleasure alone. You were fully aware of the way it shimmered and shifted around your curves.

Din followed dutifully behind you all the way back to the palace. The lull was killing him slowly. Never before had he hated the lack of conversation. He was a man of few words, preferring silence over idle pointless talk. But without words, he had no way of knowing what you were thinking. Din was beginning to learn your ways, the habits that indicated comfort or anxiety, the tone of your voice, and the expressions on your face. But in some ways, you were still a mystery, one woman upon her throne, another entirely when stripped down bare.

And now, alone with you, he couldn't tell which you were. It was driving him crazy, this little dance you'd pulled him into, flirting and then leaving him hanging, only to pull him back in again. You consumed his every thought, just like you'd wanted, and he didn't know how to rid you from his brain. Din needed answers. He couldn't wait for you to make the first move anymore. He would know, one way or another, what the goal of your little game was.

The palace loomed overhead as you climbed the stairs and entered the doors. The guards bowed in your presence when you stepped into the grand hall, heading for the stairs.

Din had to act. At the top of the stairs Zena was talking with Ming, waiting for the two of you, and it would only be another moment before she noticed your entrance. He reached out and wrapped a hand around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks and pulling you out of your advisor's line of sight. He didn't know where he was going, simply found himself guiding you through the empty tables and towards the quiet stacks of books. He could hide between the shelves, confront you, beg you to put him out of his misery.

"What are you doing?" It was the first time you'd acknowledged him. But you didn't protest.

Finally, the shelter of books, and hopefully a semblance of privacy.

"You're driving me mad," Din sighed, the modulator in his helmet doing little to mask the frustration in his voice. "What is your endgame? I need you to tell me."

Was he already begging for you? You hadn't expected this to work so well. Din released your wrist but kept you trapped between him and the wall with his looming presence, rows of books to either side preventing an escape you had no intention of attempting.

That innocent smile on your face was back, though Din found himself thinking it was a bit more mischievous than he'd initially thought. Your fingers reached for his belt, hooking under its edge where the leather met the waistband of his pants.

"Have you been good, baby?"

"Fuck, yes. Yes, Angel. I did what you told me to do," he said, voice desperate.

You tugged gently and Din got the message, backing you into the wall, your hands pulling at his belt, in a vaguely familiar position to this morning. Though he was much larger and could probably take whatever he wanted without asking, he acquiesced his control to you.

"Have you been thinking about me the way I asked?"

Din felt too exposed in this place to remove his helmet, so he couldn't rely on facial expressions or a kiss to communicate that he had, in fact, thought about you all day. He couldn't stop thinking about you.

"Tell me," you said when he didn't reply. "Describe it to me."

Despite his ability to hide behind a mask, Din's body language revealed all. He surrounded you, one hand on the wall, the other reaching up to cup your face, his gloved thumb running across your bottom lip. He wanted to kiss you but couldn't, so he memorized your lips with his fingers instead.

"Oh Angel," his modulated baritone rumbled into your ear, "I've been thinking about your delicious pussy. And how smooth you are under my fingers. Your glorious tits and the freckle between them."

Where had he learned to talk like that? Somehow, his comment about the freckle was what broke the dam and you felt the telltale sign of your arousal warming your cunt. That Din had noticed something so small, had taken note in one night the details of your skin, sent your heart rate through the roof. Maker, he was so diligent and observant, it made you quiver to think about what else he'd noticed.

You dropped your voice to a whisper, not because you were afraid of being overheard, but because this felt like an intimate question even the air didn't deserve to hear.

"Do I make you hard?"

Din swallowed a lump in his throat, not knowing where you were going with this but eager to find out. "You know the answer to that."

You did. But you wanted to hear him say it. "I expect you to answer me when I ask you a question, Mando."

Din chuckled softly, the sound barely making its way out of the helmet. "Yes, Your Majesty, you make me hard."

Fuck. There it was again, the sound of his voice enough to make you wet with need and your pussy throb in desire. You hoped the hall was empty, that no one would interrupt what you were about to do.

"Fuck me, Din."

"What? Right now?"

"Yes, right now. Against the wall. Pound me into this fucking wall." Your voice was a soft whisper but there was a force behind the words, quiet but compelling.

Din paused a moment, one hand leaning beside you and the other resting on his belt. And then he was undoing it with one swift movement and you were pulling up your skirts around your waist and he was dragging your panties down and lifting you in his arms to press you against the against the the cool stone. And then he slammed into you and pounded you into the fucking wall.

You cried out. Maker, he was so thick and this time you didn't have his fingers to stretch you first. But the intrusion was a welcome one, even as tears of ecstasy pricked behind your eyes. Din was so strong, his arms easily holding you up, his thrusts battering and rough. But this is what you'd wanted, for him to fuck you so bruisingly hard it was difficult to walk the next day.

All the tension, the anticipation, the expectation of the day had built up inside Din and he let it surge from him and through you. You had done this to him, intentionally. He knew you wanted him in agony, on edge, and he'd let you pull him there. Now he was releasing it, helmet hitting the wall, your arms and legs wrapped tightly around him to pull him even deeper. Every gasp and cry from your mouth was one of surprise, as if you hadn't expected this from him, but hoped for it nonetheless.

Din had been so close all day, just needing that final push to tip him over the edge. He wanted to cum inside you again, to drip from you for the rest of the evening while you shook hands and made small talk. He could feel you clenching around him, ready to milk his seed from his cock with your orgasm.

And then, of course, Din heard the footsteps. Thank the Maker for his helmet to hear that you were about to be walked in on, but damn it as well for forcing him to pull out and step back from you, trying to right himself as quickly as possible and avoid being caught like this.

"No--n-no what are you doing?" you gasped with a suppressed sob. As much as Din wanted this, you wanted it too, and the loss of him was cruel. He pulled away from you despite your protests, letting your skirts fall back to your ankles, and your cunt clenched in protest at the sudden vacancy. But it was only fair, if he should be left on edge the whole day, that you too should have your orgasm snatched from your grasp to be finished at some later time.

"Someone's coming," he hissed, stepping as far away from you as possible and snatching your discarded underwear from the floor to shove them in his pocket, just as Zena walked by the stacks you had hidden in.

She paused, looking suspiciously between you and Din and the oddly wide distance between you two.

"There you are. Did I interrupt something?"

"No, nothing. Not at all," you answered far too quickly. Zena was not convinced, especially when Din refused to face her. He had a pretty obvious problem that he was trying to hide.

"Come on, they're expecting you," she said, holding out her arm for you to take. You slipped past Din without looking at him and linked elbows, letting Zena guide you toward the banquet hall, pretending as if nothing had happened. Except something had definitely happened. You were now pantyless, the wetness of your arousal slippery between your thighs as you walked.

You glanced over your shoulder at the last moment to see Din trying hard to compose himself. His stance was one of incredible discomfort and dissatisfaction. Abruptly pulling away had left him even more frustrated than before and he watched with irritation as you disappeared around the corner.

"Are you going to tell me what that was about?" Zena whispered into your ear. She held you close as you walked.

"Nothing, really."

"He didn't hurt you, right?"

"Why would you think that?"

"You look like you've been crying," Zena said, pulling a handkerchief from her pocket and handing it to you to wipe your eyes. "And you've been weird all day. Something happened. You can't lie to me and get away with it, you know."

"We were just-- We were just talking."

She narrowed her eyes at you knowingly, aware that more had occurred but not prying further. "Alright. I'm sure I'll find out eventually."

You stopped at the entrance to the banquet hall and Zena gave your hand a squeeze, smiling coyly.

"Wait here for a moment," she said and left you to announce your entrance.

Din had held back when you left, only following behind when you were out of sight. Now he reappeared, a little more composed but no less tense and he slipped into the hall after Zena to find a seat. Though he didn't glance at you, didn't acknowledge you with a word, his fingertips grazed the curve of your ass as he passed, reigniting your fire and reminding you that he was still focused on you and only you.

And then he disappeared into the crowd and everyone turned to look as you entered. You hated this part, all the eyes on you, all the nobles and diplomats staring at you and analyzing your movements. You were sure your face was flushed, both in embarrassment and excitement. The walk to your seat felt entirely too long and you did your best to avoid making eye contact with too many people. At last, you reached your seat, where someone was already waiting to help you into your chair. You didn't even notice who it had been, your mind was so far elsewhere.

Everyone sat as you took your place at the head of the long banquet table, and it had the fortunate effect of conversations beginning again and eyes shifting to neighbors and plates of food rather than you.

Zena sat to your left, her presence helping ease the social anxiety-induced nightmare that was diplomatic dinners. Directly to your right sat a man you had the unfortunate pleasure of knowing since childhood, Lord Boryn. Usually, that seat was reserved for another of your advisors or an honored guest; how he'd managed to slip in you weren't sure. This was going to be a long night.

And where was Din? You spotted his shining helmet a few seats down, doing his best to blend in with the shadows and not look at anyone. He wouldn't eat, you knew, making this an even more boring and uncomfortable night than it needed to be. And though he was obviously feeling awkward and tense, he still radiated that calm power that provoked his neighbors to scoot their chairs a bit to the side to give him more room.

You tried not to stare.

"What a great ceremony," Lord Boryn said, bringing your attention to him. His voice was loud and overly exalting, making him sound more cynical than congratulatory. He leaned forward in his seat in an effort to invade your line of sight, taking a sip of his wine and then holding up the glass in a mock toast. "And you look as delightful as always, Your Majesty."

"I see you're as bold as always, My Lord. And your father, enjoying his stay on Coruscant, I presume?"

Zena barely contained her snicker. Boryn's father was not simply staying on Coruscant; he was a prisoner there, serving a stint for bribery and money laundering. It was perhaps an unfair jab at the man's family, but you hoped it would hold off his flirting for a little while.

It did not.

Boryn continued the conversation, as if you hadn't just insulted his father, asking several questions at once, only to interrupt you to talk about himself again. This would go on for a while, you knew, so you let your eyes and your thoughts drift back to Din, silent and unmoving down the table.

You unconsciously readjusted in your seat, not knowing what to do with your legs now that your underwear was stuffed somewhere into Din's pocket. Crossing them applied an uncomfortable pressure, but not doing so left you completely exposed, your bare folds rubbing against the rough fabric of the slip under your gown. So you crossed your ankles and leaned heavily on your armrest.

Din watched you shift awkwardly from the corner of his eye as the man sitting next to you blabbed his mouth off. It was hard to hear what he was saying over the boisterous conversations surrounding him, but in a way, Din was glad, as he was sure it would have only made him angry. He begrudgingly admitted to himself that the man was handsome, in the polished, manicured way that made it obvious he was some kind of noble, and you were leaning toward him, your body angled in a way that made it seem as if you were actually listening to the guy. But every once in a while, your eyes flickered toward Din, like you were making sure he was still there.

"Remember Lunar One?" Boryn said with a raucous laugh, now addressing both you and Zena. "When I pranked our fourth level teacher and she thought her classroom was on fire, but I just set off a smoke bomb? Now that was a lot of fun."

"You had fun, Boryn," Zena replied dryly. "You made our lives miserable with your idiotic pranks. We had to evacuate the entire school."

Lunar One had been miserable for other reasons as well, but Zena skillfully avoided that conversation and steered the topic back to something that wouldn't bring up bad memories.

"She was the only thing that made it worthwhile," Zena said, squeezing your hand to let you know she was just as uncomfortable as you.

"You're right, Zena. In fact, I believe it is time for a toast to honor our beautiful queen."

You sighed in frustration. Boryn had his heart set on making a fool of himself tonight, and embarrassing you in the process. He stood and clinked his knife against his wine glass, garnering the entire room's attention, and you glanced at Din to gauge his reaction. Nothing.

"I would like to propose a toast," Boryn announced, his loud voice projecting throughout the hall. "To Her Majesty, never was there a more beautiful, just, and fair ruler of Nhora. May she live a long, prosperous life."

Glasses were raised and you shrunk down in your seat, wishing all eyes in the room would leave you and find elsewhere to land.

When you glanced at Din again, he was gone.

---

"Come, My Queen, once more for old time's sake."

"I already told you, years ago, I'm not interested."

Boryn had cornered you as you had tried to turn in for the night, wanting to run from the reception early and finally fall into Din's arms in private. But the pesky Lord had other plans, trying to coax you back into the old relationship you shared with another drink. At one point you may have been interested. At one point you had been interested. But that ship had sailed, a wrecked, long ago.

Din's embrace was calling, the unsatisfied feelings that stirred in your stomach begging to be attended to. Once upon a time, anyone would have sufficed to fulfill them. Not anymore.

---

Din had to get out of there. That silly excuse of a man was making toasts and flirting with you shamelessly. It didn't hurt his ego. He knew where he stood with you. But he couldn't take it anymore, watching him make a fool of himself. Besides, no one wanted to talk to Din, and he couldn't eat anyway, so the solitude of his empty room seemed much more preferable to the solitude of a crowd.

He pulled off his armor and tried to lay down, but the bed didn't bring him any comfort. He was so used to sleeping in his armor, Din had trouble relaxing without it. Unless you were here, that was. If you were here he'd hold you and fall asleep in an instant. Well, he'd make love to you in all the right ways first.

How many times today had you brought him to the brink only to pull back again? Was it really only twice? It felt like an eternity and yet no time at all. Maybe he should just do it. Just step into the shower and find release in his hand like he'd intended this morning. But he couldn't.

He would wait. For you. Like you asked, though at this point Din was realizing it was more of a demand. Din had no idea how long he'd lain there when the knock arrived.

The door slid open a crack, and then Din saw it was you and he opened it even wider, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you into the room. Only then did he notice the plate in your hand.

"What is that?"

"Food. For you. You didn't eat."

"I don't need food," he said, exasperated. Din was getting impatient.

"I know for a fact that you haven't eaten all day. You need dinner."

"You're my dinner," Din said, grabbing the plate from your hands and moving it to the side, finally able to pull you in and mold his body to yours, pressing you into a hot, needy kiss. You let him, but only for a moment, before pushing him away again. It was as difficult for you as it was for him, but you couldn't let the man starve.

"Smooth. Now eat, Din," you said a bit more forcefully.

Fine, if this was how it had to be. He sat with a huff and began. He was used to eating quickly, not enjoying his meal but getting it down as fast as possible to avoid any trouble. But now you were sitting across from him, and he did his best to appease you and slow down a bit.

"Maker, that was exhausting," you grumbled. You had already looked tense when Din had left dinner early, so he could only imagine how uncomfortable you felt in the hours that followed. But now, you relaxed fully, letting your shoulders slouch and regal mask fall from your face.

"They all stare at you," Din said, taking a bite.

You tugged at your shoes, letting them drop to the floor. "Who?"

"Everyone. But especially that man who sat next to you."

"Lord Boryn, you mean." You feigned innocence, not wanting to give Din any insight into how you really felt finally sitting alone with him again. Truly alone.

"You know him?" Din's dark eyes searched yours. They were surprisingly unreadable. You were now unbuttoning the cape you had donned to ward against the chill that swept in with the storm, uncovering your bare shoulders.

"Yes." You paused. "Intimately."

"Intimately?" He had no idea what that meant and he watched your movements for any sign of what you were insinuating. But you simply reached up and pulled several pins from the scarf that covered your head and placed them one by one on the table. The scarf unwound and you tossed it to the floor as well, revealing the hair that had been covered all day. Din watched you run your fingers through it, enjoying the sensation of freedom as it fell to your shoulders, shining in the dim light of the room. He realized that was one of the things you shared with few people, as your head was almost always covered. He felt a bit dizzy.

"He was mediocre at best."

Who was what now? Din couldn't remember what you'd been talking about.

"Oh." Lord Boryn. Oh. Now he understood. "So that's why he looked at you like that."

He couldn't help the dark tone of his voice.

"Just because you get to hide behind a helmet doesn't mean you don't look at me like that too."

"No. No, he looked at you like you were a possession. Like he owned you."

"So what, you get to own me but he can't?" You leaned forward on your elbows, challenging him with your eyes, though a smirk flickered across your lips. Din held your gaze for a moment and then looked down at his plate. His answer was honest, sincere.

"I don't own you." Din took his last bite and sat back in his chair. "No one owns you, and usually you make that pretty clear. But he didn't seem to be getting the message tonight."

You remained silent for a beat and then stood, slipping the straps of your gown off your shoulders and stepping out of it so you were, at last, wearing nothing but your slip. Din watched as you moved behind his chair, the fabric shifting against your skin and revealing the rise of your breasts and the dip of your hips. You slipped your hands across Din's shoulders and leaned down to slide them down his chest, your lips grazing softly against his ear and sending chills down his spine.

"Are you jealous?" Your question was barely spoken but it radiated through him anyway. He felt your hand slip into his pocket, wondering what you were searching for, and then watched it reappear with your panties. You held them up with one finger in front of his face. "I missed these."

Din groaned at the reminder of what had transpired hours earlier. He'd been agitated all day, on edge, anticipating the moment he'd get the release he was so desperate for. And now thoughts of that pretty boy noble even having a single opportunity to touch you, the way Din so desperately wanted to, made his heart pound and his adrenaline spike.

"When are you going to end this fucking torture?"

You smiled and nibbled lightly at his earlobe, earning a shiver. "Can you take it a bit longer, baby? I promise I'll make it worth your while."

Maker, he didn't want to wait anymore. But your proposal was too tantalizing to pass up and curiosity got the best of him. "You'll be the death of me, Angel."

You needed no other confirmation. A single word was whispered against his ear. Strip.

He did, standing in the middle of the room, as you watched with an ephemeral smile dancing across your lips. Din stood at attention, hands out as if to say, now what, his cock hard from the on and off torment he'd endured throughout the day. You bent down and grabbed your headscarf from where you'd discarded it on the floor, folding it along its length and testing its strength, before stepping behind him again.

And then his vision went black, the scarf having been placed across his eyes. He felt you tie it securely at the back of his head and then a finger trace slowly down his neck and spine, chasing his shiver.

Din had never been without his eyesight before. In the dark, his helmet switched over to night vision, allowing him to see regardless. He could focus his line of sight, zoom in on a point in the distance, track footprints in any material. This was simply blackness.

What was generally suppressed was his hearing, highly acute and sensitive, yes, but modulated and tinny nonetheless, making the world dull and muted. Now, he had to rely on his hearing unobstructed, the shift of your feet on the floor as they moved around him, your soft breathing, to know where you were. And touch, he found extra sensitive as well, without the layer of beskar between him and his surroundings. He felt the air move, the heat of your body close to his, the drag of your fingers, and oh Maker, your lips.

The overload of the rest of his senses had distracted him from the fact that you were now kneeling before him, your lips barely kissing the weeping head of his cock. You touched him nowhere else, with nothing else, simply your mouth against his twitching rod, tongue tracing the tip and licking away a bead precum with a satisfied hum. Din bucked his hips, fingers reaching out blindly in search of you to grab on to something, but you gripped his hands tightly with your own and held them to his sides.

Tantalizingly slowly, your lips wrapped around his tip and sunk down around his length. Dank farrick, he wanted to wrap his fingers in your hair and fuck your mouth like he'd fucked you against the wall. But you'd also said you would make this worth his while, and his iron sense of self-control won out. Din wouldn't let go unless you told him to.

At last, you had taken him as best you could, and you moved up again, running your tongue from the base of his cock back to the tip. You pulled off with a sucking pop, causing Din to jolt in surprise and pleasure.

And then you did it again, all the way down, all the way up, only slightly fast. It wasn't enough, but it was something, anything, more than before. You kept going, over and over, drawing him inch by inch closer until he was trembling in anticipation of release.

The words left his mouth before he could even think them. "Fuck, Angel, I'm gonna cum."

He should have held his tongue. You immediately pulled away, leaving him cold and bare and shaking with impatience. He whimpered at the loss of your mouth and let out a laugh of disbelief at your audacity. If he hadn't been blindfolded, Din would have seen the sly smile of satisfaction on your face.

He would have also seen you finally remove your slip and take a step closer to him so that your body was barely an inch away from his. He jumped when you gripped his chin softly and pulled his face down to meet yours.

Taste and smell. Those were the senses he'd forgotten completely, the taste of him on your tongue when you kissed him, when he opened up for you and let you inside. You still held his hands in place, but now it didn't matter. He could breathe in your scent and let it mingle with the saltiness of your lips, and it sent his blood pumping through his veins a mile a minute. Anything more and he'd probably lose it.

When you pulled away from his mouth, Din pleaded for you to finish him off, in whatever way you wanted. He didn't care how, just so long as it happened.

You giggled sweetly against his lips, your warm, rapid breath fanning his face, and he felt this wasn't over.

"Make me orgasm with no hands and I'll let you cum wherever you like baby."

A bargain. Din shuddered. "You mean--"

"I mean with your mouth. Is that okay? Tell me if you aren't ready."

"Fuck, no-- I mean-- yes, I want to. But I can't even see. What am I supposed to do?"

You took his hand and guided him to the bed. "You don't need to see. Just trust your instincts."

The back of Din's knees hit the edge of the bed and he collapsed backward, head sinking into the pillows. You shifted somewhere to his right, fingers interlaced tightly with his, and then your leg swung over to straddle his abdomen. He felt your thighs grip his waist and then the weight of you pressing down on him, the warmth of your cunt, slick against his stomach. You were so fucking wet, and he couldn't wait to get a taste.

You leaned down to whisper in his ear. "I'm going to ride your face. Is that alright?"

"Sounds like a dream." The grin on Din's face easily gave away his eagerness.

"Good. And remember, no hands, just your mouth, and then you can have me however you want."

Fucking hell. You hadn't expected him to actually be good at this. You were sort of counting on Din being completely unskilled with his tongue so you could tease him a bit more. But within moments of planting yourself on his face, it became your new favorite place to sit.

His warm tongue sank deep into your fluttering center and he feasted on you like you were the meal he had been denied, the taste and smell and touch of your velvet walls blinding Din's senses. He moved in and out, up and down, following the sounds of your pleasure to make sure he was doing it right. And he must have been doing something right because you lost your ability to speak complete sentences and drove him forward with only single-syllable words.

You had thought his shadow of a beard would be rough against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs but it was soft and tickling instead, only adding to the sensations he was achieving. Din sank his face deeper, nose pressing against your clit, and you let out a soft cry. You had yet to let go of his hands, and at this point you weren't sure if it was to prevent Din from using them or if they were for your benefit entirely, keeping you from collapsing forward and suffocating him.

Din sensed the shift, your moans of ecstasy music to his ears. And your eyes had fallen shut, otherwise, you would have noticed that the rocking of your hips against his face had slid the blindfold right off. Din now gazed up, view unobstructed, at the unbridled look of pleasure on your face, your tits round and bare, your hair wild about your shoulders. His cock throbbed at the sight of you.

And then your thighs gripped tighter around Din's head and your walls clenched against his rolling tongue and your cries reached a new high. He felt your orgasm start to build against his face and he growled into your pussy, sending vibrations through your core.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fu--"

You cursed until you couldn't anymore and your words devolved into ragged gasps and sobs. Din pulled you through your orgasm, not stopping his work until the trembling ceased. You had forgotten to breathe, and now you took a ragged breath in as he kissed the inside of your thigh. You could stay here forever.

But as soon as you stilled, Din was pulling you down and flipping you over, ready to fulfill your end of the bargain. He'd done his job, now you would let him lose control. But not until he heard the words from your mouth.

"Can I?"

You weren't even fully aware of what was happening, what he was requesting permission for, still coming down from the high of your orgasm. One moment you were on top and then suddenly the next beneath a very large, very strong Mandalorian. He still held you in his arms but had you pressed into the mattress as well, the tip of his cock teasing your entrance, waiting for your word. But what word you couldn't really remember, and why wasn't he just going for it, and where was the blindfold--

"Fuck, Angel, we agreed, remember. Make it worth my while. Please, I need you to say it--"

Right. You'd been teasing him mercilessly since nine this morning. Finally, your brain caught up with the rest of your body.

"Yes, baby, yes. Fuck me as hard as you need."

Din did not hesitate to sink into you, the urgency from the library back in full force. Maker, he finally had you where he wanted you, and he knew it wouldn't take long to reach that point again, where the restraint and frustration broke him down into an uninhibited mess. But the delicious cries falling from your beautiful mouth urged him to hold on just a moment longer.

Din pressed one hand to the headboard to steady himself, his other arm wrapping around your waist and lifting your hips to hit the angle that made you scream. His thrusts were rough and irregular, sometimes pulling out fully to slam back into you, at other times barely shifting at all. But you were already tender and sensitive from the short-lived pounding you'd taken earlier, and it launched you right back to the edge of your interrupted orgasm and then straight over again with a choked cry. He pressed his mouth to yours and breathed in your moans as you seized around him, fucking the orgasm from him as he fucked you through yours.

Din followed soon behind. He came hard and heavy deep inside you, hips coming to a shuddering stop as the pent-up energy left his body all at once. He collapsed, melting into you as you pulled him close, neither of you able to speak or move at all.

You hadn't realized it had begun to rain again until only the echoes of your mingled breath filled the room. It drummed softly on the palace roof, a lulling sound that would have sent you to sleep if Din's heavy form hadn't been squeezing the air out of your lungs. You didn't want him to move, didn't want his warmth to leave you, but you needed oxygen.

"Din," you whispered. He hummed into your neck in response. "I can't breathe."

Din wrapped his arms beneath you and rolled, pulling you on top of him. He ran his hands up and down your spine, one coming to rest on your ass, the other tangling in your hair to pull you into a kiss.

"You're driving me crazy, Angel."

"You said that already." You smiled against his soft lips.

"It's true." Din closed his eyes as you ran your fingers through his thick curls, dark and graying in some places. He had impossibly long lashes that cast dancing shadows across his flushed cheeks. And his nose, the curve of which you would never tire of running your finger over, cast a shadow over his face in the moonlight streaming in the window.

You hated to ruin the moment. But you had to say it. "About what you said last night--"

Din groaned, eyes still closed. "You heard all that?"

"Din, I want you to know that you don't need to make any promises to me." He remained silent so you continued. "You're under no obligation to put me above your people and your creed. You have bigger things to worry about. This is--" Everything I want, everything I need. "--fun, but..."

"But what?" He opened his eyes to search yours. "It's inefficient? Messy?"

"It's going to make the inevitable sacrifices harder to make. I can't ask that of you. We have obligations to our people before we can make promises to ourselves."

Din was silent again, but this time you waited for him to speak. He sighed and cupped your face in his hands, smoothing the worry lines from your forehead the way he liked to.

"When I gave up the kid the first time, he was worth double his weight in beskar. I thought it was the right thing to do but it was selfish to hand him over to people who would hurt him. The second time was for his own good, and still I regretted it. I worry about him all the time; being away from him scares me. And I could have avoided all those difficult feelings if I hadn't found him in the first place. But that's the one thing I don't regret. Because along with it I got a family, a weird, small, green family, but a family nonetheless. I'm tired of feeling lonely even when I'm not alone. And I think you feel that way too. You don't have to feel a certain way or make any promises, but you're allowed to. You're allowed to put yourself first sometimes."

Tears pricked behind your eyes. Why was he suddenly making you cry? The Mandalorian was just a man, a man you'd met simply by accident, who'd needed help that you could offer, who'd touched your heart in a way no one ever had. That was exactly it though. You weren't sure what he was to you, but he wasn't just a man anymore.

And yet, he was right about it all, except one thing.

"I'm not lonely, Din. Not anymore."

[asciendo]

Close Call

Make it Right Series Chapter 21

Jean was the cocky bastard that walked around like he owned the place. Y/N couldn’t stand him so when the time came that you were his sparring partner, you couldn’t wait to teach him a lesson.

Little did the both of you know, that sparring match would be the start of your unexpected relationship with Jean Kirschtein, that will change your life, and the rest of the Scout Regiment forever.

Chapter 1/Chapter 2/Chapter 3/Chapter 4/Chapter 5/Chapter 6/Chapter 7/Chapter 8/Chapter 9/Chapter 10/Chapter 11/Chapter 12/Chapter 13/Chapter 14/Chapter 15/Chapter 16/Chapter 17/Chapter 18/Chapter 20

Tag list:  @empty-glass-full-of-emotion @dai-tsukki-desu @usernamehere91@princess-peaches1 @thestrugglesofateenagedirtbag

Not exactly how it happened with the anime!

Jean cursed as the Beast Titan began throwing rocks at the Scouts. Getting out of here alive seemed like an unlikely ending and his mind drifted to you. "FUCK!" He cursed allowed as Connie watched him with worry. "Jean...we'll get you out of here I promise..." Jean stared at him with confusion, why was Connie only talking about him? They should all get out of there not just him.

"What do you mean me?! We're all getting out of here—"

"Yes but...you're our priority." Sasha whispered as they took cover on top of the Wall. "NO! no one is a priority—we protect each other—why are you doing this to me!?" Jean's voice cracked which caused the others to look at each other. The last thing Jean wanted was his comrades to focus on getting him home safe, and not protecting themselves.

"Jean...you need to get home...that baby...it's a sign of hope for all of us." Armin finished but Jean continued shaking his head. Before he could speak, Mikasa announces that the Armored Titan is approaching. Jean couldn't think straight—he felt immense guilt thinking about his comrades' mentality about all of this, but also longing to return to you...and his child.

Erwinthen instructs the Levi Squad and Hange Squad to take down the Armored Titan. They are to use their Thunder Spears at their discretion.

Their plan is in motion. Eren has transformed and Reiner has spotted him. Armin nods seeing how Reiner charges at Eren, clearly taking the bait.

Eren and Reiner grapple with each other and Eren manages to throw Reiner off of him. As Reiner realizes that he cannot take Eren on by himself, Hange leads their squad and Levi's to attack the Armored Titan. Reiner is surprised, not expecting that they can actually damage him, when Hange and Mikasa fly towards him armed with their new Thunder Spears. The rod-like projectiles impale Reiner in the eyes and then explode, blinding him.

From behind, the rest of Hange and Levi Squads attack, firing their Thunder Spears into the Armored Titan's back and disengaging before they can get caught up in the explosion. Jean shouts that it worked, the armor around Reiner's nape is peeling off. Hange calls for them to attack again to finish him off.

Jean, Connie and Sasha look at each other, their faces drop. They were hesitating. "Do you remember...when Reiner saved me--" Connie began but was squashed by Jean. "That doesn't matter anymore." Jean states heavily and Sasha sighs as well.

Jean rallies them and the three move in to attack with the rest of the Scouts.

Bertholdt has been waiting for Reiner's signal for a while now he is aware that it has been a while since Reiner has transformed. However, Reiner has not signaled him and Bertholdt is worried about his friend's well-being, unaware that the Scout Regiment is currently cheering over having blown Reiner's head off with their Thunder Spears. The nape of the Armored Titan has been blown open with Reiner's partially decapitated body protruding from the back of its neck.

Jean laughed nervously, he didn't know how to feel about the whole thing. Turning to Connie and Sasha, their faces dropped as the realization that they could have killed Reiner. Jean shut his eyes. Despite everything, Reiner was his friend. Reiner always felt like a big brother to everyone that despite everything, he felt for him, especially now.

Suddenly, Reiner's Armored Titan lifts its head and lets out a roar. In a barrel on the quadruped Titan's body, Bertholdt recognizes it as the signal. The Beast Titan picks up the barrel containing Bertholdt and hurls him over the Wall into Shiganshina as Hange calls for their squad to blow Reiner's body to bits. However, Armin quickly deduces that the roar was a signal for Bertholdt and spots the incoming barrel. He warns Hange that they need to get away from Reiner before Bertholdt transforms into the Colossal Titan and blows them all away.

The Scouts retreat from Reiner as Bertholdt prepares to transform, but he spots Reiner's Titan and sees that the body of his friend is exposed. Abandoning the plan, Bertholdt bursts out of the barrel, and uses his ODM gear to reach Reiner, landing on the Armored Titan's shoulder. He discovers that Reiner is still alive, thanks to redistributing his consciousness from his head to his Titan's body as a last resort.

Bertholdt asks Reiner to do something for him, which is to "move a little" and to prepare for the worst if he is unable to comply. Then he approaches the Scouts to finish the fight. Moblit calls out Bertholdt's impending arrival and Hange lays out a strategy to eliminate them both, only for Armin to approach them and ask that they try to negotiate. Armin uses his ODM to rush ahead of Hange and calls out to Bertholdt, asking that they talk this over.

"What do you want?! Can't you see all the destruction you've cost!" Armin yells as Bertholdt stares back at him. The timid Bertholdt they were used to seemed to be long gone now, his eyes were determined, and his demeanor has greatly changed.

"We want Eren." Mikasa growls at this but Bertholdt continues talking. "And the demise of humanity within the walls." Connie's face drops after his statement. Out of all of them, he was having the hardest time accepting that Berhtoldt and Reiner betrayed them.

"At this moment, Annie is being tortured. They say they hear her screams from the other side of the—"

"ENOUGH!" Berhtholdt suddenly yells and the group steps back. "You think I don't know what you're doing?! Mentioning Annie to buy time—so that I'd somehow care. You all think I'm so soft...the truth its...you're all spawns of the devil! I'm NOT going to fall for your tricks or have any regrets about killing you!" Jean heart clenches. Despite everything, he'd still think of Berhtoldt as the timid guy that would have amusing sleeping positions, but now. He felt like he didn't know him at all. He felt even worse thinking about how you would have reacted if you were here.

Suddenly, Mikasa comes flying behind Berhtoldt, ready to strike, but he dodges and suddenly grabs Armin by his collar.

Bertholdt raises his sword as he's about to strike Armin. Jean's breath hitches and he charges towards Bertholdt. Jean slides Between Bertholdts legs and knees him which causes him to release Armin.

Armin is thrown and Jean grabs his arm to drag him back to the roof but suddenly feels a grip on his shoulder and Bertholdt slams him to the ground.

The rest of the group begin to charge but Bertholdt raises his sword and Jean flinches.

"BERTHOLDT! Y/N IS PREGNANT!" Jean's eyes shot open at the mention of your name.

"FUCK IT ARMIN DON'T BRING HER INTO THIS!" Jean yells and he realizes he has tears in his eyes. Jean looks up at Bertholdt who's face drops as well and his eyes looked panicked.

"W-what?" He begins but his sword is still raised above Jean.

"Y/N is pregnant...do you want her to raise the baby on her own?" Armin continues as Jean struggles.

Bertholdt's grip began to loosen on Jean and he sideswept Bertholdt on his back. Bertholdt got up quickly. Bertholdt begins to retreat and Armin attempts to follow. Mikasa warns Armin not to chase him because they do not know when he will transform. Armin is doubtful, believing Bertholdt would not transform now as it would likely kill Reiner, and suggests that they could take Reiner hostage. Mikasa wonders if the person they just saw was really Bertholdt, because he seemed like a completely different person, as he has a plan and was more determined.

Jean places an hand on Armin's shoulder and squeezes. Armin turns to him to see tears streaming down Jean's face.

"T-thank you..." Jean begins and Armin smiles at him.

The events after that were a blur to Jean. After Bertholdt transformed, they were able to take him down but at the expense of Armin. Sasha was injured. He felt like everything was crashing down around him and all he wanted was to see you once more.

Your smile, hear your laugh, feel your skin against his, everything about this world did not make sense, except you.

When Floch came back carrying Erwin and Eren, Mikasa and Levi fought over the syrum, Jean could not believe that they had to choose between Armin and Erwin.

When Armin was given the serum, Jean felt relieved, but also worried about losing their leader.

Despite Zeke and Reiner escaping, what was puzzling Jean was what they discovered in Eren's basement. The true history of their origin and the titans.

Jean slumped after the discovery of their lineage. How they were placed there as somewhat prisoners. Despite all of that, all he could think about was what kind of world they were living in and how it would be for you and his child.

On the way back, the only thing Jean could think of is how he almost died if it weren't for Armin. How he there was a chance he would never get to meet his child.

Connie noticed Jean's silence on the way home and made his way next to him. "Are you all right?" Connie asked and Jean nodded slowly.

"It's...okay if you aren't you know...I'm not..." Jean glanced at Connie whose head was suddenly low.

"I know it's stupid--but Bertholdt...was our friend--"

"Stop it." Jean cut him off and Connie sighed. He almost lost his life because of Bertholdt but Jean couldn't shake the image of Bertholdt's face when he found out you were pregnant. His eyes were shocked and he started to tremble. He cared. He cared about you and Jean hated it. He hated how despite everything, he still felt for Bertholdt because you knew deep down he was important to you and you were important to him...and now he was gone.

As the Scouts made their back in silence, none of them would ever be the same after this, and everything they knew would change forever.

[yandere-sins]

Since your request's open, I was wondering if you could do a geralt yandere where he's in a village with darling, when the pair sees a pregnant couple. Darling makes the mistake of gushing over how lovely couple looks and how their child would look just as lovely. Geralt then takes this as darling wanting a child of their own. Since witchers can't technically have children, this frustrates him and makes him go a little feral back at home and just breeds darling into oblivion.

Thank you for requesting! Hope you enjoy ^-^

Rated Lemon

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You were no newbie to the topic of sex. And surely no rookie to the feeling of Geralt’s cock buried inside you.

Still, he usually wasn’t as ferocious as he was that night. You two barely made it back to a tavern, his hands constantly all over you, grasping at what his gloved fingers could reach. Throwing you over his shoulder and navigating Roach into a designated spot, he only grunted, “Room,” at the innkeeper, throwing way too many coins into his direction before staggering upstairs in the next best private room with an open door.

Geralt was many things. A witcher most of the time, murderer to some. You’re always doting, a little possessive partner usually, and on some nights a lover. He’d never let you become what he was, but you were thankful for the guidance that he gave you after you traveled so long to meet him. To you, he was a legend, somewhat of a hero - even if other people didn’t see in him what you saw.

Perhaps, you were a little blinded by the holiness of traveling with the person you were praising to the heavens and back. Maybe it would have done you good to see the truth more clearly, realize what really was going on. It’s not like the love and admiration you felt was something you expected him to reciprocate, but you liked to imagine that the hints he showed you were his form of affection only for you. He cared, always keeping other people who gave you lecherous sideglances a good scare. And despite you being a burden and sometimes too rowdy for the companion of a witcher, he did his best to keep you around.

Surely you could do without getting strapped to Roach ever so often, so that he could keep you where you were and not follow him into dangerous areas. And admittedly, he took your words a bit too serious sometimes, buying you whatever you deemed ‘fancy’ and taking more than the usual odd job to pay for it. You also really couldn’t remember a night anymore without him watching you falling asleep, laying on top of you all night, and then greeting you even before you opened your eyes. It was intense some nights, where you insisted on sleeping on the floor or at least as far away as the bed allowed, Geralt just sighing and pulling you closer again. A war of tug that only ended with you back in his arms, suffocating by his embrace, standing no chance against muscles and knowledge of what would make you subdue to his strength.

Geralt also tended to misunderstand you - a lot. That morning you had sighed longingly at a small family of three, so happy as they taught the little toddler to walk. Not like you wanted a child or a to settle down, but you might have joked about how cute it would be if the two of you did build a family of your own someday. Had you known it would have caused the pressure in his pants, your hips grinding against his as he turned around and urged Roach back to a city with an inn, you would have worded it more carefully for sure.

But this way, you were out of options other than complying. Geralt always had a need for efficiency, and he usually did not waste time on minor things. While he still worked to strip himself out of gear and armor, his fingers were already tugged under your undies, freeing one leg of any hindrance like clothes. Part of you was well aware of what was happening, but it felt different than usual. Latest by the force he tugged at your ankle as you tried to move up the bed and make some space for him, you knew this wasn’t what you could expect from laying with him.

Parting your legs, this clearly wasn’t the love-making you were used to, glove barely off his fingers as he pushed his digits in to test the waters. You flinched, self-lubrication being a wonder of nature, but not always the most reliable form of self-help. Reaching for his wrist, you tried to pry him out again when his second hand snaked behind your neck, pushing you forward and against his lips, rough and demanding.

He at least changed the number of fingers to one as he pumped it in and out of you, trying to arouse his hole. Still wearing more clothes than usual, the fabric brushing up against your thighs with the harshness of worn-out cotton, sending stings of pleasure up your nerves. His hair fell in your face, and before you knew it, you were breathing him in more than you were getting air to supply your body with, falling victim to the man.

When he finally laid you down, you were enticed with his touches, seduced by the feeling of his lips and tongue crawling down your skin from your lips to your collarbones, nipping at your shoulder. Hands came up to caress your nipples, pushing the annoyance that was your shirt aside for access. You couldn’t notice the goosebumps that appeared on his skin when your first moan escaped you, no one else but you bringing this kind of tickle over him these days. It was a desirable sound, urging him on, telling him that what he was doing was right, and he was quick to free his stiff member from his trousers, having waited long for the meal you were to his troubled desires.

Because truth be told, after all this time, you were only the fourth person ever to bring quite this joy into his life. And Geralt was planning to taste as much as possible from it. His rational brain told him that the idea you had put into his head was absurd, but maybe the faintest hint of hope came from his heart, that, perhaps, he might get you pregnant if he tried hard enough.

When his hips approached yours, your legs willingly parted further, though the feeling of his tip entering you still forced you to whine. Luckily, he was well-endowed, but with your body calling out that something wasn’t right, you weren’t quite ready to accept him yet. Most of the time, you were at least a bit drunker than that night. One time you two did it to get rid of an awful spell when one of his potions broke. There was always something to relax you - just this time, you were bareback and well aware.

Not heeding your ragged breaths, he forced himself inside, groaning over the tightness of your cunt as he spread your walls. You bit your lip in the weirdest feeling of pain and pleasure, legs flinching as if they were ready to kick him off. This feeling was new, and you weren’t all to sure you liked just how little he seemed to care as he began to pull out and push in right away. Hands pushing against his chest, you pleaded for him to give you a moment, his movements hurting you internally. “H-Hold on, give me a moment!”

But no matter how hard you gripped the shirt he was wearing, Geralt didn’t slow down, much less stopped. Forced to fold your arm, the witcher leaned down, bodies rubbing together, and stealing your breath as he kissed you again, tongue slipping in. It only got more unbearable as he caged you in between his arms on both sides, stinging eyes looking down at you, showing you your miserable reflection, an expression on your face that clearly wasn’t as willing as it sounded when you did a half-moan, half-sob.

However, no matter your attempts to stop him, he wasn’t one to stray away, too deep in it, and in you, to stop anymore. In an inefficient wiggle to get free, you heard the low rumble of a groan in his chest, followed by a couple pulsating pushes into you. Before you knew it, he shifted, pushing himself even deeper inside of you. Warm spurts of hot cum shot right into insides, coating your walls, adding some fake lubrications to the already irritated flesh.

You were relieved once he took a few breaths and proceeding to sit up again, thinking it was over. But the sudden grip on your thighs was something you did expect, and you struggled as he pushed your legs back, never having excited your pussy completely. Legs over his shoulders, he used them to continue to fuck you, holding on to them roughly with his fingers digging into your skin.

Geralt’s cock slit in and out easier of you now, cum bubbling on your entrance and spurting out with every hard thrust he did. Altering his technique a little, he started to grind his cock into you, his tip pushing up against your abdomen and low into your bowels, making you squeal whenever he managed to hit a new and sensitive spot.

“W-Wait, at least give me a break!” you demanded, but his answer was an inaudible mutter, followed by his grunts and the smacking sound of your hips. You were given no break as you couldn’t help a toe-curling orgasm as his member forced it’s way up to your cervix, kissing the entrance with force upon every push into you.

In the blink of an eye, Geralt spun you around, a moan escaping you as he gripped your asscheeks hard, pulling your entrance smack against the end of his shaft. With force and diligence, he wiggled his way forward into you, knowing that if he wanted to make any difference, he had to bring his semen as far as he could. Your body too recognized the breeding position, but you were to weak to resist under him, victim to his hips smacking and grinding into you, cock threatening to burst its way into your womb. And at least the hot strings of cum managed to get inside, despite if they’d impregnate you or not.

“Don’t say you didn’t want this,” he mumbled into your ear as he hovered over you, giving you little personal space or time before he resumed his grinding. Lips pressed down your shoulders, smothering them in pecks and kisses while you rode the waves of pleasure. “You know I’d do anything for you. You shouldn’t test me by saying you want a family.”

All he needed to do was pull you up by your arm to turn you onto your back again, satisfied eyes watching him through the shine of tears. “Next time, just be honest if you want to be bred so badly, no need to hide it behind the idea of a family that you know we can’t have.”

It was a low effort to slip into you again, your walls instantly clenching down hard on the overstimulation. “I-” he grunted, pulling your hips onto his, not minding the bruises his hands will leave on your skin. “-would do anything for you. Just say the word.”

And with his final orgasm, Geralt finally pulled out, having to watch all his effort slowly beginning to drip out and stain the rented bedsheets. Maybe, so he thought, plugging you up and hoping for a wonder would do well, your abdomen lovingly swollen under the multiple cumshots he had put into you. Reaching for an empty glass bottle for his potions, he pulled out the cork in it, opening up your hole with two fingers before slipping it inside under the weak protest of your mouth that ended in a sigh.

You were pulled snug against his body as he settled down next to you, taking a sip of wine he found at the bedside table, and making a mental note to give another tip to the innkeeper later just so you two wouldn’t be damned for all eternity. But with a sense of satisfaction did he watch the little swelling under your tummy, caressing it with his hand under your shallow gasps. Kissing your temple, he pulled a blanket over you, happy with just holding you in his arms that night while you lost conscience. You were unable to think for yourself anymore as you sighed in his hold, just relieved to have someone to lean on after going through such a carousel of emotions, unsure how you two would be able to proceed after experiencing this.

Unsure if he had other plans with you, once you woke up again even.