#web!pov imagine That

[livvyofthelake]

it’s gonna be so funny when helena reads tda and realizes that ty and livvy and kit are like. nothing characters and i’m just insane because i happened to be 15 when i read lord of shadows

[reidmotif]

Regret on the Rocks

Summary: Spencer finds himself at a bar being served by the girl who once broke his heart. Turns out she feels a lot more than just regret for letting him go.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Light Angst/Smut

Content Warning: drinking, Spencer is a little depressed, mentions of heavy bullying (specifically 3x16), car sex, female masturbation, Spencer POV, heavy kissing, unprotected penetrative sex

Word Count: 4.3k

Masterlist

Regret is an emotion I’m well accustomed to. It’s not to mean that I’m unhappy with my life by any means, but I’m aware of the space between my current situation and the ‘beyond’ that could’ve been if things had just been different. 

If I’d never joined the BAU.

If I’d had a more conventional life in the first place.

If connection came to me as easy as it seemed to other people my age. 

But none of those things seemed to ring true, so I carried regret in me like a bruise of honor. Despite the regret, I faced it every day and lived to do it all over again in the morning. It didn’t mean it was easy, and today proved that. Today, it was hard going to sleep knowing I’d wake up to do it all over again. 

In light of this, I’d found myself in a bar, alone. The case we’d been working on saw little to no fruition despite our efforts, and it’d resulted in another body we couldn’t save. Another person I was responsible for. It weighed down on me more than I cared to admit. 

I found myself continually lost in my thoughts, navigating through the carefully weaved web of guilt and self-doubt, spiraling, until a much softer, surprised voice pulled me out. 

“Spencer Reid? Is that you?” She asks. I hear her voice before I see her, and I know that it’s the bartender stood behind the bar, and there’s confusion as I wonder who could’ve possibly recognized me in a rundown small-town bar.

I look up and meet her eyes, and it’s as if a flood of memories ensues. A flash of recognition crosses my face, and seeing the images playing in my head, almost akin to a film reel, slowly walking me through one of my earliest regrets. 

I was 15, navigating my senior year while being the youngest one there. Despite the oddness of my situation, it never crossed my mind that I shouldn’t have tried so hard to participate in the same social events as my peers. With the hindsight of adulthood, I now imagine that if I had withdrawn, spent more of my time alone than trying to not be,  the hurt of never being accepted would sting less, because I’d never had tried in the first place.

But I had tried, and she was the only one who got me. She was older, yes, and beautiful and popular,  but those didn’t matter half as much as the conversations we’d manage to have. She never seemed to take offense to any ramble of mine, and I’d feel my heart soar when she’d ask questions after my monologues, sending me the clearest signals of interest in what I had to say.

And as a lonely 15 year old? It meant the absolute world to have that. To have her as my friend.

And so, when it came time for senior prom, in the interest of at least trying to fit in, I asked her to go with me. As friends of course, but even then she shook her head, and ruefully told me someone else had asked her. I vaguely recalled the name she’d given me off of a football roster I’d once read while attending the school, and nodded. I understood. I was prepared for the rejection, in fact I’d already taken it the moment she said no. I was prepared to live with it.

Then came the week before prom. Being lured away from the safety of the campus, and onto a football field. Being tied to a flagpole, while everyone watched- and laughed. I remember seeing a face, his face, knowing he was the one who was taking her. Taking (Y/N) to the prom. 

I rarely dwell on the events of that day, but I do remember the regret. I remember wondering that if I’d just never spoken to her, I’d maybe have been less of a target. I wondered if maybe I’d never asked her in the first place, maybe our friendship could’ve survived the whole ordeal, but it hadn’t. She never spoke to me after that, her head hanging low as she continued to hang off of his arm, never sparing me another glance again. 

But here she was, glancing- no, staring at me, her eyes wide. 

“What are you doing here? Are you.. Did you always live here all along?” She asks, her voice uncharacteristically soft and mellow. She was loud back in high school, I remember. She had the best laugh I’d ever known. 

It takes me a second, but I give her a flat smile, setting my glass down. “I’m here for a case, actually.” 

“A case..?” She says, her head tilting a bit in confusion. 

Clearing my throat, I nod. “Yeah, a case. I’m an FBI agent. I’m here for a recent string of murders being committed in the area.” 

“Wow, FBI, huh? I never thought of you as law enforcement.” She says, her eyebrows raising. “Always thought you were going to change the world with that brain of yours.” She adds, a small smile on her face. My eyes narrow in distrust at the sudden compliment, unsure of her intentions. 

“I’d say I’m changing the world.” I respond, a little defensively. “I like my job. I like that I change lives by not letting them end.”

She immediately retracts her statement, vehemently shaking her head. “No, no! That’s not what I meant at all. I mean, of course you’re changing the world- I just thought you’d be doing more. Okay- not more. I just- Gah. I swear, don’t take it the wrong way.” She pauses, before gesturing to herself.  “I mean, I have no room to talk.” She says, the words a little rushed and frantic. 

“What do you mean, no room to talk?” I ask, squinting in genuine confusion. 

“I mean, I work as a bartender. I don’t know what I want from life, but it’s certainly not this.” She says, motioning to the shelves of drinks behind her, a little defeated. 

She’s so different from when I knew her. Self-assured. Confident. She seemed almost meek in this environment, and the only recognition of the girl I knew came from the small, embarrassed smile she gave me.

“Well. We’re a lot more alike than you think, then. Titles mean nothing.” I say, voice a bit quieter. “I don’t think it’s anything to be ashamed of, though. We’re just getting through life the best we can, right?” 

She nods a little, seeming to take comfort in my statement. “Look at you. You’ve still got the same sweetness in you from high school.” 

Stiffening at the mention of high school, I just nod and taking another sip from the glass in front of me, which was starting to empty out. “Not trying to be sweet, I think. Just honest.” I say, bluntly.

It’s mean, I’m aware. I can feel her trying, but I don’t want to offer her the same. I want her to feel awkward. I want her to know what she did was wrong. 

There’s a silence that passes through the two of us, before she breaks it with a continued gesture of kindness, turning around to fill another glass with my drink of choice and setting it down in front of me, a small smile playing on her lips. 

“For being honest then. Thank you.” She says, and her eyes meet with mine. I almost hear the unspoken apology in her voice, in the way her fingers slowly push the chilled glass towards my empty hand, in the way she bites her lip softly, waiting to see what I’d say.

“To being honest.” I say, raising the glass slightly and downing the drink a little faster than I intended, not wanting to think too much about the implications of the gesture. To know that she possibly had regrets too. That she might still have the goodness I once knew in her. 

“I have about half an hour left in my shift, but if it’s alright, I’d love to catch up properly.” She says, keeping her gaze trained on mine. “I’ve.. missed you.” She says, her voice soft. 

I don’t respond to her last statement, but I can’t deny the magnetic pull begging me to say yes to her request, to at least see where our lives had gone after our separation. So I nod, silently.

“I’ll be here.” 

I try to lay off the drinks for the next thirty minutes, opting to sip some water instead to clear my mind in preparation for the time I’d be spending with her. Part of me wondered if I shouldn’t have accepted the invite at all. It wasn’t that I forgave her per say,  but the curiosity to know her all over again was overwhelming, regardless of the pain she’d caused me. I’m once again reminded why “curiosity killed the cat” is such an overused aphorism.

She comes up to me thirty-six minutes later, and I hate myself for keeping track. She flashes me a small smile. 

“You waited.” She says, softly. 

“I said I would, right?” I respond, unsure why that would mean anything to her. I agreed to this. I wanted this, even if I could physically feel the inner turmoil brewing throughout my body. I suppose it didn’t show though, because she continued on, smiling. 

“There’s an ice cream place I like around here. Would you like to go?” She asks, and I see her teeth catch onto her bottom lip, the plumpness of the feature being exacerbated by the action, causing me to momentarily lose my train of thought. 

“Uh. Yeah, ice cream. Sounds good.” I say, placing my hands in my pockets. 

“Did you drive here? I mean- I hope not. You drank quite a bit.” She says, starting to walk to the exit of the bar. 

“No, no. My hotel is actually right here. I walked. Needed to get my mind off some things and I ended up here since it was convenient.” I say, and I feel myself falling back into that comfortable rhythm of just being able to speak freely around her. 

It’s like no time has passed at all, and yet I’m acutely aware that nothing is the same. That we’re avoiding a bigger issue at hand. 

“Yeah.” She murmurs. “The murders around here have been grisly, haven’t they?” She says, starting to lead me to her car. “I get nervous when I hear about that stuff, so I find myself looking away from the news more often than not.” She continues, quirking her mouth to the other side, as if she’s aware this isn’t the best course of action, but does it anyway.

“It’s cute.” I think.

I push the thought away. 

“Understandable.” I reply, nodding. “I don’t watch the news either. I mean- I do read the news. But I don’t watch it.” 

She starts the car, and I observe a hint of a grin on her face, her eyes crinkling at the edges in a way that makes my heart jump. “So you still like to read then?” She says, seeming genuinely happy I’d kept up the habit even after my youth. 

“Oh yeah. I mean, reading isn’t something I really ever let go of. It’s a good activity when you’re out on the road so much.” I say, feeling solace in talking about something I truly loved. “Sometimes I feel like books provide me with better stimuli than social interaction.” I continue, unaware of the implications of my words, and I only realize once I’ve seen her raise an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, but I mean. Friends are good too, right?” She says, a hint of concern making her way into her voice. 

I chuckle a little bitterly. “Probably. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I have my team, and I’m grateful but-” I pause, taking a deep breath. “I don’t know. It doesn’t come to me like that, you know? And I’m not bothered by it, but I don’t like to think about it.” I say. There’s a faint feeling of heat on my face from the honesty, but I continue to stare straight ahead, not wanting to see her reaction to my words. 

“You were a good friend to me, Spencer. Better than a lot of the friends I had in high school, and I’m not just saying that.” She says, softly. 

I respond without thinking, shaking my head with an embittered motion and a click of my tongue.

“Yeah, and look where that got me.” 

She’s a little silent then, and I refuse to say anything else. She’s the one who invited me here. I don’t know what she wanted out of this, but I wasn’t going to forego my own feelings just to spare hers. I was here. That was enough. I was allowed to say that. 

We pull into an empty parking lot, where I see the neon lights advertising an ice cream parlor, but we don’t get out. She turns off the headlights and blows a bit of air between her lips, placing her hands in her lap and turning towards me. 

“Spencer.” She murmurs, swallowing a bit. “I am so, so sorry for what I did in high school. I know I wasn’t there when.. You know when. And I know I didn’t speak to you afterwards, and I am so sorry.” She repeats. “I hope you believe me when I say I really did miss you. I was such an idiot back in high school, and nothing can repair that, but I missed you so much.” She says. 

I turn to her and can see the tears welling up in her eyes and feel my heart soften. It’s insane, the effect she can have on me, even years later. 

“Hey, don’t cry.” I say, immediately reaching over to wipe a tear from her cheek, my thumb swiping over the expanse of her smooth skin. “It’s just high school. It’s a long time ago.” 

“No.” She says, emphatically, shaking her head. “Don’t lie to me. What I did was awful. It doesn’t matter if it was long ago. You can call me a bitch. You can- scream or hell! I don’t know. You can be angry at me. You should be angry at me. I could never say sorry enough.” She says. 

I shake my head, all the previous resentment and bitterness dissipating instantly. It was a bit odd, feeling the emotions I’d long held onto even years after our fracture go away so quickly, but she was my friend. For what it had been worth, she had been good to me.  And right now, she was my friend, crying in a car, and the guilt and shame couldn’t be more obvious. 

I move to hold her hand, wanting to comfort her, rubbing small circles into the skin near her thumb, her fingers grasping over mine, almost afraid to let me go now.

“You’re right, in a way. What you did confused me and left me feeling really.. lonely. But now that I’m older I think I better understand it, but it doesn’t change the fact you hurt me.” I reply, and I see her jaw tighten, nodding and taking my words to heart. 

“But I don’t think I resent you anymore for what happened.” I continue, the words tumbling out. “Seeing you guilty and ashamed so many years later is just making me wish we’d talked earlier, so we wouldn’t have had to feel this way for so long. Maybe we could’ve.. I don’t know. Picked up where we left off.” 

She gives me a flat smile, tears still in her eyes. “Yeah? I’d have liked that.” She murmurs. 

“I mean it.” I say, flashing her a soft smile. I decided to lighten the conversation for her comfort. 

“Doesn’t mean I won’t call you an idiot for dating that prick though.” I respond, a little teasingly, hoping to get a bigger smile out of her. 

“Oh god.” She says, leaning back, laughing a bit. “Please do. God, he was so .. awful.” She says. “He wasn’t half as funny as you. Just.. boring honestly.” 

I smirk a little at the words, feeling a bit of pride but brushing it off with a shrug. “I mean, it's a cliche right? Beautiful, smart girl with the boring jock?” I say. “You and like, 6 out of 10 high school girls probably fall directly into that category.” 

She gives me a laugh at that one, a real one, and my heart soars upon the sound alone. I hadn’t realized just how much I’d missed her.

 “6 out of 10? Where’s that statistic from? High School Girls Anonymous?” She responds, matching my energy and continuing the banter.

“Just trust me. I know these things very well.” I say, trying my best to sound as faux academic as possible, hoping to make her feel at ease, to fully let go of the tension from before.

“Well, then.” She says, softly, turning the conversation to be a bit more sincere. “I’m glad I don’t fall into that cliche anymore. I’m glad my taste changed.” 

I nod, surprisingly relaxing into the vulnerability of the words. “Yeah, it happens. Tastes do change throughout life, especially post-adolescence. One could denote it to the development of the prefrontal cortex, but I like to say it’s out of knowing what you want out of life.” 

“Have yours? I mean, your tastes. Have they changed?” She asks, her eyes boring into mine, and I realize that my hand is still holding hers.

I lick my lips and shrug. “Here and there. For the most part, yes, but I find myself clinging to certain aspects of my teenage self.” I respond, vaguely. 

She continues to look at me, nodding. “Mine have. For sure.” “How so?” I ask, my heart speedingbup. 

“I think I learned to like sweeter guys.” She says, softly. “Ones that don’t bore me entirely, and ones I actually want to spend time with. Maybe that’s a cliche in itself but..” She shrugs, ending off her sentence there. 

I nod, wondering where this was leading. Her eyes were trained on mine and I could feel my pulse quickening. Was she going to kiss me? Was I going to kiss her? Was I crazy for thinking that at all? What was happening here? 

“You said you still have certain aspects of your teenage self in your tastes.” She says suddenly, her face moving a bit closer to mine. “What did you mean by that?” 

I sigh, taking in the features of her face, and how they seem to be illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the windows of her car. She was so stunning, even now. Even after all these years, I couldn’t deny she’d only grown to be more beautiful.

 I lick my lips and nod. “I guess I just meant.. I still find you just as beautiful as I did back when I first knew you. Even moreso now, honestly.” I say, quietly. 

I can feel her breath hitch, and her own tongue darting out to wet her lips, mirroring my actions. Her gaze shifts from my eyes to my lips, and back to my lips again, and I’m extremely aware of what I want at this moment. 

“Can I kiss you?” I ask, my hand still in hers, studying her with a careful gaze. 

She nods almost immediately, and at the same time, we surge forward to meet the other’s lips, her hands immediately cupping my cheek and my hands moving to her waist. I hear the click of her seatbelt being unfastened, and suddenly she’s in the passenger seat with me, straddling my waist and continuing to keep her lips locked firmly on mine. 

It’s like I can’t get enough of her, my hands exploring her back, eventually lowering them to squeeze her ass, which elicits a low moan from her. I pull back a little, panting and see her eyes blown out with lust, causing me to groan from just how deep my desire for her ran in this moment. I let one of my hands to run over her bottom lip, pulling it down and letting it bounce back up, enamored by just how close she was. 

“Fuck.” I murmur, unable to contain my awe at her and without wasting a moment, she’s grabbing my hair roughly to pull me back in again to meet her mouth with mine. When given the opportunity from another soft moan from her, I immediately slip my tongue into her mouth, relishing in the way she grabs my collar and presses her body against mine, matching my enthusiasm one for one. 

It felt so good to be wanted by her.

She starts to whimper at the intensity of our prolonged contact, and the sound activates something primal in me. It was almost as if once I heard it, I couldn’t go back. Pulling myself back from the kiss, I start to trail my lips up and down her neck, leaving hot, wet kisses in my wake while she writhed in my lap, her fingers tugging on my hair in desperation. I played with the motion for a bit, testing out certain points on her, before finding that she’d moan loudest at a pulse point at the junction in which her jawline met her neck. I sucked on the spot, being sure to leave a large, dark mark.

I didn’t care what would happen after this night, but for right now, she was mine, and I intended to treat her as such. 

“You said your hotel room was nearby, right?” She pants, starting to move her thighs off mine. “We can go and-” 

I immediately wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her back against me with a force that surprised even me, before gripping her hair and placing my mouth near the shell of her ear. I can hear her squeak at the motion, but her legs relax back into straddling mine. 

“I want you now.” I whisper, my voice hoarse and low. “We can go, if you’d like but- I need you now. I can’t stress that enough.” 

She melts in my arms as I say that, and a grin comes upon my face from the desire she was displaying as well. She nods quickly, before moving her fingers to my belt, and just upon hearing the sounds of the hardware moving, my head involuntarily falls back because- holy fuck. Feeling her so close to where my pants were now currently constricted nearly had me finishing right there. I could barely look at her without feeling overwhelmed. I feel my cock being pulled from my briefs, and I let out a moan. 

I look at her again, and she’s the picture of lust. Her pupils are dilated and her hair is messy, and her mouth slightly agape. She’s everything I want right now. All I want. 

“You’re so big.” She mumbles, leaning back, her hand wrapped around me, beginning to stroke me in a gentle, rhythmic motion. 

“Yeah?” I murmur back, breathing in sharply when her thumb runs over my slit, feeling the precum already dripping down my shaft. Even her hand is making me question if I’ll finish right here before ever getting to be inside her.

“Yeah.” She whispers, almost breathlessly. 

“You can take it.” I say, looking at her, and the girl looks like she’s about to moan off of my words alone. She licks her lips before responding, her voice a bit higher than before. 

“I don’t have a condom- but I’m clean and-” 

“Yes.” I respond immediately and she moves quickly. My fingers, as if possessed, move to unbutton her dress a bit, letting her breasts spill out (to my delight). The urge to strip her bare for me crosses my mind, but then I’m acutely aware that we were in her car, and the risk of being caught was far too high for the pleasantries I wished to indulge her and myself in, and I find myself slightly wishing we had gone to the hotel room. Next time.

Before I get too caught up in the fantasy of possibly ever fucking her again, I see her reach under her dress, presumably to move her panties aside and groan at the thought. My hands roam over her body to find her hips, slowly guiding her onto my cock, her walls squeezing around me tightly as her hips met mine. 

Her moans were sweet, but I found my hand covering her mouth quickly, watching as her eyes shone with pleasure with just the slightest movement from either of us. 

“Need you to stay quiet, pretty girl.” I murmur. “You can do that for me, right?”

She nods, eager to please, and I keep my hand on her mouth for a moment too long as I watch her eyes flutter shut, then open, her hands wrapping around my neck to stabilize herself. She starts moving then, lifting off until my tip is the only thing inside of her, before slamming against me, creating the best type of friction for both of us, causing there to be desperation for more. My hands rush down to grip her waist, and I can barely stifle my own noises from how fucking good she feels.

It’s a frenzy after that, and I match her movements with thrusts from below. I know it’s enjoyable for her, based on how hard she’s trying to not make a single sound, but still lets out the tiniest little whimpers and gasps when my cock grinds against her spot, and from the way her thighs shake every single time I disappear deep into her, a small bulge forming in her lower stomach every time I pushed into her. Every clench and squeeze of her cunt drives me insane, and I can’t help the low groan slipping out of me. 

Her movements get erratic, signaling her end, and I grin at how quickly I managed to get her there. My fingers move to stroke her clit in circular motions, savoring the way I could hear her whisper my name, grinding down on my dick and chasing the feeling of my fingers on her. 

“Close?” I mumble, biting down on her shoulder lightly, which causes a louder moan to slip out of her. 

“Yes. Yes.” She whispers, breathlessly. “Please, Spencer. Oh god. Please.” 

I jut into her more rapidly, continuing the motions against her, before her walls tighten and squeeze around me, and her cunt flooding the base of my cock. I continue to move like a man possessed, swallowing the moans of her orgasm with a messy kiss, before finally, I reach my release as well, coating her walls from the inside out. 

She pants for a second, collapsing against my shoulder as she tries to catch her breath, and I stroke her hair, attempting to do the same. She moans softly, her hands wrapped around me as her eyes flutter open and shut. 

“I was wrong.” She mumbles, nuzzling into my shoulder, kissing it softly. I’m unsure about the meaning of the words, so I quietly ask her. 

“What about?” 

“You’re incredibly different from when we were in high school.” She says, softly. 

“Good or bad different? I ask, a little self consciously, which is amusing considering I’m still inside her. 

“Good. Really, really fucking good.” She clarifies, quickly, with a dazed smile. I lean in, kissing her a bit more softly now, letting my lips languidly trace over hers. 

“You too.” I murmur, and I can feel her smile against my lips.

No regrets about this one. 

WOAHHH. oh em gee. a fic! so so so deeply sorry i didn't live upto posting more fics this december and january, but i swear i'm gonna keep trying to at least get two out a month. valentines day is coming up, so you already know i'm gonna try and write something fluffy and cute for that, so look out for that. as usual, thank you so so much for any and all continued support. it seriously means the world to me and i cannot say that enough <3 i hope this fic was enjoyable. like, reblog, comment, whatever <3 just ty for reading!! <3

[tonixe]

POV: MIGUEL FUCKS THE SHIT OUT OF YOU

n.o.t.e.s - miguel is so hawt, like i need him inside me like right now.

p.a.i.r.i.n.g - perv!Miguel O'hara x fem!reader

w.c. - 540

Working for Miguel in the Spiderman HQ could be hard sometimes, with his demanding nature. Sometimes helping him with missions with villains in different dimensions.

Just his little assistant.

It was hard to fight villains with your revealing spider suit; even swinging with your webs was harder; it would hug all your curves and chest. Getting all types of stares for your suit, it is even risky to walk especially with the cut-out on your suit just exposing cleavage, too low that you almost flash people.

But you were too mindless to figure it out; I mean, Miguel made it just for you. You were really dumb to think that Miguel said the suit was supposed to help you. and you believe it.

You were even too dumb to figure out who was taking your panties.

Imagine perv!miguel just coming into his lab all angry and pent up, and just going crazy on you when he sees you in that little spider suit, and just bending you over the table, just going crazy on you. Just ripping your spidersuit off.

He's pounding into you from behind while your face presses against the table. Just drool covered across your face, as he just plunges into you, just spilling himself into you. Just painting your walls with cum and fucking you full with his cum.

Perv!miguel would hate wearing condoms when he screws you; he just loves how your wall hugs him as he fucks you. But it just makes him feel so good when you clench around him.

Perv!miguel just loves cumming inside you, and covering you with his cum, just makes gets rise out of him and make him horny.

Miguel would love skull fucking you, just using your face and shoving his cock down your throat. His hand just grabs onto your hair; if you wearing makeup, he would love to fuck it up.

Your lipstick just smeared across your cheek, your just drooling on his cock.

Perv!miguel just loves fingering you, even in public events, just under the table, just reaching over you under the table taking off your panties, and fucking you with his thick fingers.

Just you talking would be hard for you, just getting overstimulated by him, just shaking.

Perv!miguel enjoys using vibrators with you, just teasing you, turning it up on high when you're talking with other people. He loves to see you withering and whimpering around him.

He would love when your whiney is just so submissive for him.

Imagine just sleeping; you're deep asleep while Miguel is still awake and horny. Just looking at your sleeping form and he would just start touching you, just fondling your boobs.

Him just fingering you when you sleep, mewling in pleasure. Just waking up to Miguel hunching over you with his huge cock stretching you out as he thrusts into you and dragging it out.

Perv!miguel loves playing with your titties, small or big. He just loves to put his head between your boobs and play with them. Just squeeze them with his rough hands.

He loves sucking on them and tugging at them.

Perv!miguel whispers sweet nothingness into your ear, as he fucks you on his bed.

[goosetheluce]

It's Been a While (Gwen Stacy x Fem!Reader)

requested by anon: "can I req one where it's like a little reunion after atsv? Like before she goes and sees her dad she goes and sees reader bc she's been missing for months and Gwen's probably worried at first but readers just too happy to see her again.maybe a little friends to lovers, thank youuuuu☺️☺️☺️"

info: decently angsty, physical affection (kissing, hugging, hand holding), crying, flashbacks, desperate!gwen, gwen 3rd person pov, cussing, use of y/n

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Gwen's entire body was crawling with nerves as she flung out her webs. She surged through her home city with poise and elegance. Her anxiety was shielded on the outside; Spider-Woman always had to be collected, breezy, perfect. Even now. Especially now, considering the news cameras and helicopters pointed at her. She could only imagine the headlines being displayed all across New York:

Vigilante "Spider-Woman" Makes An Appearance After Months

Masked Hero Re-Appears

Ghost-Spider Visits During Violent Era Beginning Without Her

She groaned in frustration, doing her best to outrun the nightcrawlers and news stations. Her father was probably getting his force ready to incarcerate her that very moment. A chill spread across her skin, and it wasn't the frigid rain.

She swung into an alleyway, ripping her mask off to catch her breath. Her time before Miles was put in real danger was ticking away, and this game of cat and mouse certainly wasn't helping. She sighed and sunk down the brick wall in exhaustion. Gwen needed to figure something out before she was cornered in the labyrinth that was New York City.

She listened to the cars screeching in the distance, listened to the bar fights, the laughter of a group of teenage girls past their curfews. It was by no means a city of sunshine, but she desperately missed her life.

Desperately missed you.

Gwen pulled her hood over her head as far as possible, ignoring the sting filling her eyes. She sighed shakily, breath condensing in the autumn thunder.

She needed to see you. Besides, it's not like she had much of a choice.

God, why did I have to make my suit bright fucking white? Maybe then these idiots would leave me alone.

Even now she heard the choppers pulsing in the sky. She wondered with a shudder how many were police force. Gotta get out of this suit.

She slipped her mask back on and set off. See, Gwen would never commit a crime with malicious intent. Hell, she was Spider-Woman, but she couldn't see any other way blend into the city without the chance of bumping into her dad at the apartment.

So she robbed a clothing store.

As gently as possible, but unfortunately that still meant damage. Gwen huffed. Had it really come down to this?

She pulled her arm back, flinching away from the window as she shattered it with a simple punch, even whispered "sorry" as if that changed anything. The shards clinked against the sleek-tiled floor of the Nike shop and she hopped inside with ease.

Don't have much time, she noted. The alert system wailed deafeningly as she shot webs at every security camera and stole the footage for that night. She raced through the store, grabbing a pair of black sweatpants and a navy blue winter compression shirt. She changed right there in the store with the cameras blinded. She swiped a drawstring bag and stuffed her suit and mask inside. She kneeled down to lace up her converse tightly. She still had a long way to go to your flat.

Gripping the strings of her bag tightly, she raced away. The rain had stopped, but the storm still threatened deep rumbles of thunder a couple of miles away. Her swift footsteps splashed through grimey puddles lit by orange streetlamps. The city seemed more perilous than ever as sirens screamed and guns fired, and guilt struck her chest.

Internally thanking her enhanced speed and endurance, Gwen stared up at your window not even ten minutes after she fled the store. Now came the hardest part: facing you, her closest friend, after she joined the society. Truthfully, she missed the warmth gifted to her from your loving arms. Something her dad never gave her before she left.

She paced around the block over and over again, wondering what the hell she was supposed to say to you. "Hey, I'm back after months of radio silence, and don't mind that I just crawled up your wall because it turns out I've been a human-spider freak this whole time. Missed you too."

Suddenly, it didn't matter what Gwen wanted to say anymore, because a police car was turning the corner.

"Fuck!"

She dashed up the wall and onto the roof, crouching to avoid any nearby helicopters. She released her breath in relief. She shook out her body and rubbed her temples. This was it. She began to crawl down the face of the complex, hoping she'd remember the right window.

Perk number 42 of being bitten by a radioactive spider.

She peered inside the window of your bedroom. It was convenient for her in the moment, but Gwen made a note to scold you for leaving your blinds open. She reached her hand out, hesitated, then curled it into a fist and gently tapped. She squeezed her eyes shut.

She saw you look up from your school laptop in confusion.

It's one in the morning and this woman is really doing homework.

Gwen tapped again.

"Y/N!" she called out softly. "Y/N, let me in!"

She heard a muffled "what the fuck?" through the glass.

"Gwen?" you whisper screamed in disbelief, unlocking your window and pulling it open. Your jaw went slack as Gwen simply jumped off the wall while diving into your window.

"Y/N, before you say anything, let me explain," she frantically rambled. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Please." Her eyes opened slowly to see you. Her body went rigid.

Fuck, she's crying.

Tears were welling and threatening to spill out from your eyes. Your fists were clenched so tightly that your nails left crescent moons gouged into your palms.

"What the hell was that?" you laughed breathily before rushing forward to hug her. You practically constricted her as you wrapped your arms around her waist. She had no idea what to do for a moment. Her own emotions were about to overflow and wash her composure away. Gwen settled for squishing her cheek against yours while holding you tight. As she rubbed your back, your sobs quieted.

You pulled away, wiping the wetness away from your eyes and lips. Gwen's stare lingered as your thumb grazed over your bottom lip out of habit. You stood up a little bit taller.

"It's been a while, Gwen."

Her stance jerked a little, barely even noticeable.

"I know. I've got a lot to explain to you, if you're willing to listen." You nodded firmly, turning around to sit back down on your bed. You patted the space adjacent to you.

Gwen took seat, spreading her legs out comfortably and resting her forearms on her knees. Her posture was slanted; it was still hard for her to make eye contact with you. She didn't want to find anger or disappointment in those eyes she had stared into one too many times. Eyes that haunted her in the most tragically beautiful manner possible.

"I disappeared," Gwen began hesitantly. "But not without a reason. So much has happened in the last two years, I just...I guess it all came to one single point and that was it for me. I had no chances left, no risks to take. It was over."

Her explanation was raw, quivering and vulnerable. Your heart began to race, wondering what she'd say next. You had no idea what was going on; yeah, Gwen did ballet and gymnastics or whatever, but that little trick she did to get into your window was no joke.

She jumped up from the bed and turned to face you.

I have to do this now.

"This is the craziest part, but you have to believe me," she whispered. Fear coated her rocky voice and widened her eyes. You blinked at her in reassurance, smiling a bit.

"Gwen, just tell me. You know I'll listen."

She sighed heavily and grabbed her bag off the floor. "Okay. Give me a second. And don't make any noise when I come out." She slipped into your closet and shut the door silently behind her. The light flickered on and leaked out from underneath the doorframe. You watched her shadow move fluidly.

Inside the closet, Gwen was hyperventilating as she fit herself into her suit. She looked into the body-length mirror sitting on your floor, and a tear traced down her cheek. She was staring at her worst enemy, and she despised who she saw in the suit. Spider-Woman was a different entity.

She turned around and faced the closet door. Gwen placed her hand on the knob, taking a deep breath before turning it and pushing it open. She couldn't look at you, but when she tried, you weren't there. Her blood froze in her own veins.

Gwen was back in that collapsed building, that very same night, staring her father's gun down.

"Why the fuck am I here?" she questioned, panic filling her voice. She looked around, desperately trying to find your apartment, your face. Her movements suddenly were not her own anymore as she involuntarily turned to face her father. Her hands were lifted up above her head, but they sank down. One inched toward her mask.

No.

Her body didn't listen. Her fingers met her chin, grasping the enhanced material concealing her face from the world.

No!

She felt the cool air hit her lips, then her nose, and finally her weary eyes. She watched her father's face contort into horror and disbelief. Gwen finally found the ability to force her eyes to shut, tears spilling out. When she opened them again, she was back in your closet.

"Gwen? What's taking so long?" you called out quietly from your room.

She gasped for air, clutching her chest as she spasmed in silence. She aggressively rubbed her arm over her eyes, biting the inside of her cheek to stop herself from crying.

I have to do this. What happened before doesn't matter. I have to save things with her.

Once more, Gwen turned the handle and stepped out. She was relieved to find you sitting on your bed, staring at her.

"Uh, nice costume Gwen, but I was kinda hoping for you to finish your explanation?" you sarcastically jabbed.

"Y/N..." Gwen groaned. "It's not a costume."

You scoffed, becoming impatient.

"Really! It isn't, Y/N!" Gwen frantically begged with you to understand. You crossed your arms.

"How am I supposed to believe you're Spider-Woman?"

Gwen shoved her face into her hands. Her frustration boiled.

"You're gonna believe me after this," she nearly growled, flitting forward and taking you in her arms. She slapped a hand over your mouth to quiet your protest. She pulled her mask down and shot a web out of your window, slingshotting out of your room and into the night.

You were a mile away from your apartment in a matter of seconds while Gwen (Spider-Woman...?) held you firmly in her left arm, tossing you lightly in the air before you landed on her back. She guided your arms and legs to wrap tightly around her back as you let out a shriek. Your hair flew straight behind you in the cold wind.

"Gwen, I fucking believe you now," you choked out into her ear. You could barely speak in your terror. The eyes of her suit went wide and she aimed for the top of another building.

She landed perfectly en pointe, her converse flexing to match the arch of her technique.

"Shit, Y/N, I'm so sorry-"

Gwen's apology was cut short as you gripped her broad shoulders.

"You're motherfucking Spider-Woman!" you yelled in awe. A thick sheet of rain was nearing as Gwen's eyes welled behind the mask.

"You don't think I'm a bad person? Or...or a freak?" she whispered shakily. Your face softened. You slid your hands up from her shoulders, caressing her face. Her eyes squinted before closing as she leaned into your touch. She reached her own hand up and cupped yours. Gwen's soul lit afire as she stared at your gorgeous face, felt the warmth of your love and bare skin.

You simply shook your head.

"What a dumb question. You're my best friend. And when you left, I...I mean, I guess I just didn't know what to do with myself. I lost a part of me."

The words coming out of your mouth felt wrong. Gwen's heart screamed in desolation. Maybe you would never understand.

Best friend.

"You lost a part of yourself, but I couldn't breathe without you," she murmured, bringing her other hand up to find more ways to touch you.

Your heart began to pound as her fingers laced with yours. The rain began to fall over you, drenching Gwen for the second time that night. What did she mean by that? You could have sworn you felt her rapid pulse intensify even more as you experimentally pressed your forehead against hers.

"Gwen..."

You brought your hands (still cupping her face) down to the base of her mask, forcing her own hands to fall away. You traced circles into her skin before gently sliding the disguise up above her lips.

Gwen painfully rasped your name while her digits found your skin again, this time resting timidly on the small of your back. She needed this so badly from you all these years, even more so as your face became a tale, something she could only dream of.

"Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me. Please, please, please, just kiss me and never let me leave your side again, I'd do anything for you, Y/N-" she began to sob, but you caught her trembling lips in yours. Gwen immediately pulled you deeper into her hold, your bodies fitting together like a beautiful puzzle. Her fingers tangled into your hair and she pulled her mask all the way off. Her hood fell and her blonde waves began to frizz and tighten with the rain.

She savored the taste of your lip balm and the remnants of your bedtime herbal tea, picking you up and allowing you to wrap your legs around her. You pulled away, breathless and eyes filled with the starlight that the stormy midnight lacked.

"I love you, Gwen," you breathed. "But you're back for a reason. I don't know what reason that is, but you have to do it. We're counting on you."

Gwen nodded, dropping you safely and kneeling down to fit her mask back over her face and to allow you to cling to her.

"You forgot something, Ghost-Spider," you teased, sliding her hood over her head.

She scoffed, looking back at you with narrowed eyes. "That's Gwen to you."

In no time, you were delivered back to your warm bed. The rain pattered soothingly against your window while Gwen dried her suit off with a towel you lent to her. She eventually settled for just laying the towel down on your bed and sitting on it.

"So...are you my superhero girlfriend now, or am I about to wake up from the most story-oriented dream of my life?"

Gwen laughed softly. Everything in her life was fucked, but you brought a glow back to her existence. She had something to look forward to now. She pushed her hand to lock with yours.

"For the record, if this is a dream, then you and I are definitely imaginary girlfriends. But, since this is hopefully real life..." she assured, squeezing your hand. "Yeah, I'm your superhero girlfriend." You began to fluster, heat creeping across your cheeks.

Gwen stood up, still holding your smaller hand in her stronger grasp.

"Which unfortunately also means I've gotta do superhero girlfriend stuff," she sighed, brushing her hair behind her heavily pierced ear. She looked at you apologetically as your grip on her tightened.

"Hey, we'll see each other again. I promise," she whispered, pressing a sugary kiss to your lips before backing away, her fingers slipping out of your reach. She pulled her mask down swiftly before turning around and leaping out of your window.

"I love you!" you shouted after her. Gwen beamed as she jumped through the city, posing in a recital-like fashion for the cameras when she lowered to the streets.

The rain didn't feel so cold anymore.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

a/n: thanks for reading!! if you're sapphic and in love with gwen then. definitely check my other gwen fics out hehe. been thinkingggg about a villain gwen x fem!reader au? let me know by sending smth to my inbox as a request or commenting !

[moonheecore]

hii D, F & K for jake please? <3

helloo thanks for the ask ❤️ btw I won't be doing K bc I expect it to be quite long hahaha (the list of kinks I have for Jake 🥴) I do hope anyone can request it as just that alphabet!

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Please bear with me, but I think Jake has secretly thought of you with girls before. It started off after witnessing one of your best friends jokingly grabbing your boobs from behind, kinda like an anime scene, and he can't stop staring at the way your boobs are getting groped in front of him, the perverted side of him is screaming to see more. Since then, he surprises himself by searching up lesbian porn sometimes when he's super horny because he likes to imagine that one of the girls is you, and he jerks himself to that. I feel like it's mostly the effect of him getting to see what he usually does to your body at a 3rd person pov, and having another woman do that just spices things up more than regular porn.

Also, he thinks he keeps it a good secret, but he doesn't know that you've already seen his web search engine history 🤭

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying)

Do I even have to say it? It's obviously doggy style.

To have you on all fours, head down, cute ass up, while your cunt is completely exposed for him to see, your hole wet and pulsating, ready to suck his cock dry. And then, your fucking perfect ass, all he can see is your ample flesh just there being served on a silver platter for him to do anything dirty. First, he'll slam his hips hard until your ass is clapping back on his thighs with loud lewd sounds, then he'll spank you, flesh decorated with imprints of his palm as it jiggles, watching you cry in both pain and pleasure. And for the finale, he'll give you a big backshot, painting your back and ass with his milky load as he pumps his hard cock and squirt himself on top of you like a greedy man. He'll soothe your trembling figure by licking up all his hot seed and leaving bite marks on your ass cheeks, cooing at you about how much of an obedient table you are for being his little cum dump. If he's feeling generous, he'll fuck you again, this time mounting you because he likes how animalistic it feels, like he's a dog in heat. Is he not the prime example of an ass person?

send an ask based on the NSFW alphabet template together with one or more members in the hyungline.

[hyvnam]

HEARTLESS — CH 1.

Where we left off.

POV Y/n is a Scientist who attended school beside Miguel in their youth and now works for the Spider Society. She was there from the beginning, even briefly dated the leader of the secret association then broke it off due to a third party. Now she works in the infirmary, trying to avoid Miguel, yet can't help but get caught up in his web.

Earth 928B, Guimauve Café,

Nueva York.

“I'm glad that you're back, Y/n.”

You fondled with your fingers, holding a half drunken cup of coffee.

It had been some time since you were back in Nueva York,, explaining that you needed some time to cool off. Gabriel called up and asked to meet up and you happily obliged.

He asked how was your trip outside of town, catching up like old times. After an hour he had to go, you sipped the last bit of your drink and asked,,,

“How are you and Kasey?”

You asked as he stood up, Gabriel gave a cheeky grin,,

“Much better than you and Mig.”

How cruel...,,

Miguel and you were like-minded in intelligence, that's how you befriended each other as kids. When you both got into Alchemax, it wasn't a surprise for your families to hear the news that the two of you entered a romantic relationship. However,, they never could've imagined the relationship would end with Miguel cheating on you.

He looked so unaffected when apologizing, saying he was shamelessly in love with another woman,, who was his brother's girlfriend, Dana, at that time.

You were bitter and left. The news of Dana's death due to venom reached you not long after it happened, you couldn't say you were sad since the sour feeling was still there.

When he heard you came back, Miguel sought after you. He needed help with developing a device that could help him travel through dimensions. You did help him with fixing Lyla and because of old times, you agreed.

From time to time you both met up,, the spark coming back to the point you ended up in his bed. Miguel offered a spot when the idea of creating the Spider-Society was in his head,, you absolutely rejected the idea of working for him.

After completing the beta version of the Dimensional Travel Watch, or gizmo— said Lyla, you stayed at Babylon Towers to observe any bad effects it would have on the wearer so you could make some adjustments.

You sat on a stool in the lab, where you usually hang around. The door opens, footsteps approaching you from behind.

The shadow of someone big loomed over your small figure. Suddenly you were rotated around and faced with Miguel,, his expression soft. He rests his hands on the counter, leaning his body over to you.

“What?” you asked, turning away as your face started to heat up like a tomato.

“Oh, mi vida,,, look at me.” he cupped your cheek, you couldn't help but snuggle in. Gosh this man had a leash around your neck, whatever he told you to do you'd do it.

“I know we left off in a bad way,, you know that I love you right?” he's such a red flag,,, your gaze fell to the ground. His expression then filled with guilt.

You looked back up and smiled,, "We never even ended things,”

Miguel's face lit up,,

He dragged you in again. Grabbing a hold of your chin,, gently kisses your eyelids,,

“Open your mouth.” he commanded.

Then your lips, it was sloppy, mostly just with the tongue. His other hand slid its way beneath your shirt.

—

You came out of the lab,, sweat dripped from your face. Your shirt was wet, ‘‘they really need to put an ac in there,, you thought.

Miguel followed after you, he pushed back his messy hair and it was back to it's original slick back. You noticed a lip stick stain and reached out to erase it from his face,

He held your wrist before you could pull away, then kissed the palm of your hand,,,

“I miss you, amor,,”

You thought this time it would work out. He finally changed,, oh god if you knew how you thought that time you'd kill yourself. Your hopes were up too high,, he just couldn't stop going behind your back.

He sneaked under your nose,, everyone knew, Jess did and Peter B too. The humiliation and pain you felt a long time ago when you caught him and Dana, it came back.

A wormhole opens,, Miguel walked out of it. His face filled with dread, oh how you wished you could slap him then and there. But you couldn't,, he fell into your arms and cried, his sobs filled his office.

Miguel knew about the consequences when he started the secret association,, he knew the rules that he had to abide, you reminded him countless of times.

However,,, he just couldn't resist having a life on another Earth with his dead fiancee and a daughter, named Gabriella. Peter B was there when that version that Miguel called heaven started to glitch and disappear.

From then on,, your relationship with him soured even more. You'd share a night with him then he'd find himself waking up alone, breakfast ready with coffee that he really liked.

The weight on his back became heavier and heavier as work piled up,, but this time you couldn't help.

Tbc.

[thefrogdalorian]

The Best of Both Worlds: Chapter Ten

Din Djarin x Female Reader Modern!AU

❁ Series Masterlist ❁ My Masterlist ❁ Read on AO3 ❁

Word Count:  9833 Rating: MATURE (18+ MDNI) Summary: The realities of the secret he is keeping from you begin to weigh heavily on Din's mind and he seeks advice from a certain curly haired co-star on what his next move should be. Things don't go exactly according to plan, not least because of the typically awful English weather... Content Warnings: Alcohol consumption, reader passes out from drinking too much and Din lifts her up (But made clear how strong/athletic he is, I struggle to imagine it for myself anyway!). Smut (non explicit, a lot of implied action but it gets a little steamy). Author's Note: Thanks for being patient while waiting for this one! It took longer than I hoped to publish it becaus I wanted to get it juuuust right as this wis a very important chapter for Din and Sunflower. I'd love to know what you think of his decision.... 👀

10. There's A War Inside Of Me - (Din's POV)

Din Djarin was in a bind. A terrible bind. Since meeting you, he had weaved a web of half-truths. The unbelievable, ridiculous set of events that had introduced you into his life had led him to this position: ensnared in the centre of a tangle torrid of lies that formed a web of his own making. Din knew that the position was becoming untenable. But he did not have the faintest idea of where to even begin to untangle himself. All Din knew for certain was that every second that the lie continued brought fresh agony to his anguished soul. 

The misery of not being in your presence was only compounded by the knowledge that you did not truly know who he was. 

Things did not get any better when Din spent time with you. Every time Din was with you, he feared that the truth would inadvertently slip out somehow and the secret he was keeping from you would be revealed. His fears were well-founded as, throughout the short time you had been dating, there had already been several close shaves. Moments when Din had come precariously close to having his cover blown.

Like on that night in the hotel when a bottle of champagne had almost brought everything crashing down around him…

✯✯✯

Din watched in horror as you raised the bottle in his direction when he entered your suite, after briefly leaving you alone to check on Kuiil and Grogu. His astonishment was not merely because you had, somehow, gotten your hands on more alcohol. It was directed in equal measure towards the little gold envelope you were clutching in your hand. 

“Din!” You shrieked. Din was completely bemused by how your previously sober – or at least sobering-up self – had been replaced by the giddy, giggly girl from the noodle shop. 

“They knocked on my door and gave me a bottle of champagne! Me! A bottle of champagne! Can you believe that?” You giggled breathlessly. “They gave me this envelope too, addressed to some guy called Jim Freeman! How funny is that? Do I look like my name is Jim Freeman?”

Din still stood there by the door, unmoving, rooted to the spot. You had realised, he knew it. You knew exactly who the man bearing that name was. It was the final piece of the puzzle which had led to you figuring out Din’s true identity. He knew with absolute certainty you were about to confront him about the secret he had been hiding from you. He braced himself for everything to come crashing down around him. When it did not, and you took another swig from the enormous bottle, Din employed his most convincing tone and attempted to steer you away from your current train of thought. 

“That’s pretty funny, Sunflower,” Din said with a nervous, awkward chuckle.

“It is!” You giggled. “It’s really funny. Did you know that the guy who created my favourite show has the same name?” You slurred, swaying slightly. There it was. Despite your alcohol-addled brain, you still remembered who the creator of The Mandalorian was. Din briefly tensed up, waiting for that particular train of thought to continue. When it didn’t, he felt himself relax as he realised that your drunken brain was too foggy to piece together the implications. Yet, Din was not yet out of the woods. When you spoke again, his blood ran cold. 

 “Wait!” You exclaimed, eyes widening as though a lightbulb had just switched on in your mind. “Do you know him? Is Jim Freeman your boss?” 

“No, he’s not my boss. It must be a common name. Perhaps they got the wrong room,” Din said quickly, hoping you wouldn’t press it further. He looked around the room, frantic for a distraction for your inebriated mind, which shouldn’t prove too difficult, considering how far gone you were. Din noticed a door leading away from the main room of the suite, giving him the perfect opportunity to change the subject. “Have you seen the bathroom yet?”

“No!” You squealed delightedly.

“Come on, Sunflower,” Din smiled, extending his hand to you. “I’ll show you the bathroom. It’s incredible, it even has a hot tub!”

Din felt himself relax a little as you grabbed his hand and followed him into the bathroom, squealing with delight at the promise of the luxuries which lay beyond the door. He hoped that in your intoxicated state, you had put down an envelope addressed to the writer of your favourite TV show sharing a name to mere coincidence. Of course, it wasn’t a coincidence at all. Din always asked Fennec to book hotels using Jim’s name. He didn’t have much longer to fret about it, though, distracted by your drunken antics as you clambered into the hot tub, fully clothed.

When Din had finally convinced you to dress in the swimsuit you had packed and joined you in the water, he delighted in the enthusiastic way you grabbed him and kissed him as the two of you sloshed around in the hot tub. The intimate moment certainly helped to put his mind at ease, though he did not allow things to escalate much further given your vulnerable state.

During a break in your slightly sloppy make-out session, Din watched, dumbfounded, as you clapped your unsteady hands against his jaw, cradling it in your hands. 

“You know, Din. You’re sooooo nice and kind, just like my favourite character Mando!” You giggled, clearly finding yourself hilarious without any idea of just how much your words terrified the man at your side. You sighed, staring at him contemplatively, and added, after a hiccup: “You kind of remind me of him.”

Din trembled with fear, despite the temperature of the water, as the implications of your words sunk in. He fretted that somehow, you had noticed the similarities. That even underneath the armour, with a distorted voice, he had failed to conceal his mannerisms once out of it well enough to fool you. Of course he had, you loved the show passionately. He should have foreseen this moment. He should have been honest from the beginning.

Mercifully, before Din could panic any further, he watched silently – with a stunned expression on his face – as you moved your hands from his cheeks down to his shoulders.

“And LOOK! Look at these broad shoulders!” You said, stroking his shoulders with a sleepy smile on your face. “So strong! You’re so strong, Din,” you slurred, before curling yourself into Din’s side and leaning down to rest your head on one of the shoulders that you apparently so admired. Then, you promptly fell asleep there, alerting Din to the fact when you began snoring loudly.

Din sat there, utterly baffled at the events which had just unfolded. At first, he panicked that you were making some kind of profound comparison between him and the character. As he considered it further, it seemed much more likely that it was your drunken ramblings, brought about due to your crush on Mando. Despite how far gone you were due to the baijiu and champagne, you had come terrifyingly close to the truth. You would never know just how correct you were.

Once he had ascertained that you were out for the count, Din realised that he needed to move you to bed. He sighed as he disentangled himself from your embrace and climbed out of the hot tub. Din scooped you up in his strong arms and was thankful that he adhered to such a strict exercise regime, perfect for lifting the dead weight of an adult human, passed out in a drunken stupor. Din laid you on the bed and towelled you off gently, before carefully tucking you under the crisp sheets. He dropped a gentle kiss on your forehead, before standing back and gazing at you sleeping soundly, blissfully unaware of the inner turmoil that your words had provoked within him. Din’s heart contorted in pain, as he realised his predicament. Tonight, a line had been crossed. Din knew that he had finally lied to you for the first time. How could he ever look into your eyes again? Your sweet innocent eyes, which gazed at him with so much devotion and admiration. If you knew who he truly was, the secret he was hiding from you, could you ever love him?

After Din left your room, he had lain awake for hours, tossing and turning in the luxurious suite next to yours as Grogu slept soundly in a travel cot by his bed. He couldn’t help but worry about the implications of the night, of the lie. The words he had said due to the golden envelope with Jim’s name on it. Din fretted about what would happen if you ever connected the dots in a way more profound than your drunken admiration of his shoulders. Would he lose you forever?

Din tried to push those depressing thoughts far from his mind as he looked at the little boy who was sleeping soundly by his side. He hoped for both of their sakes that he hadn’t blown it with you. That Din had been able to successfully explain the name away to your tipsy self. Din loved spending time in your company. He was stunned by how natural things felt with you already. Since meeting you, he had felt freer within himself than he had for a long, long time.

If he had ruined things with you, Din Djarin knew that he would never forgive himself.

✯✯✯

The following week, however, it appeared that Din had not ruined anything. Far from it, in fact, if the fact that he was currently making out with you on your couch was any indication. Din’s lips were pressed against yours while your fingers tangled in his hair and lightly scratched his scalp as Din explored your mouth and face with his kisses. He felt himself grow hard when you panted into his ear and asked him whether he wanted to take this to your room. It was a question that only had one reply.

As Din followed you to your room, he grinned as he felt your hand in his, leading him to the place where he hoped your relationship would finally reach a new level. Finally, it seemed that Din would have the opportunity to show you how attracted he was to you, to show you how much you meant to him. His pulse rate quickened as he thought about how he would get to explore every inch of your body with his lips and convey how much he adored you with something more than his words. He thought back to how frustrated he had been that night in the hot tub, when you had been so close to him wearing so little. It had been the sweetest torture. Tonight had been torture of a different kind. Feeling your body so close to his as the two of you had been gradually getting closer to each other as you cuddled and watched a movie. Din had been patiently waiting for you to make some kind of move, some suggestion to take things up a notch. Now that you had, it seemed that he would finally have his chance to worship your body the way he had wanted to since he had first laid eyes upon you. Din couldn’t believe how beautiful you were, how right it felt when he held you in his arms. He couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to get close to you. If the man who first laid eyes upon you at the convention could see himself now, Din knew that he would scarcely believe how lucky he was. 

Now, Din was achingly close to having you all to himself as you guided him to your room. To your bed.

Din could barely contain himself when you whined into his ear, begging for him. Especially when you took the lead and pushed him up against the door, searching his mouth desperately with your tongue. The feeling as your hands snaked underneath his shirt and roamed across his skin was intoxicating, every inch of his skin was on fire.

He threw his head back against the door in ecstasy, euphoric at your gentle touch. When Din’s eyes briefly flickered open again, he glimpsed it. He knew immediately what it was. He immediately seized up in fear, hoping for one, brief moment that he had been mistaken and the two of you could continue along to where Din’s mind and body was screaming at him to take this. Unfortunately, as the endorphins left his body, Din accepted exactly what – or, rather, who – the poster depicted. He recognised the pose with an intimacy that only the man who had served as the model for the artwork would know. 

It was as though Din was staring into some kind of horrifying, twisted mirror, and seeing his own reflection. He stared in horror at the enormous figure of Mando, looming over the bed. Your bed. The image of himself towering there, omniscient, omnipresent and watching the two of you embracing almost sickened him to his stomach. It felt as though Din, as Mando, was judging himself from behind that dark visor. It was a bizarre, out of body experience. 

Din felt a sharp stab of pain, as though he had been winded in a stunt gone wrong. He was instantly transported to the time during the filming of season one, when he had been punched in the ribs after an actor had accidentally struck a gap between his plates of beskar. Just as it had been back then, all the air had been knocked out of Din’s lungs when he looked up above your bed and saw the poster you hung there. The effigy of himself, of the character he portrayed, known to millions of people around the world – including you – hanging there, right above where he wanted to take you. Din knew he couldn’t make love to you underneath a poster of himself. That would be sick and twisted. The thought of the black t-visor boring down at him, staring at him judgmentally as he took you on the bed… it was sickening.

It was then that he had pulled away and ran away, like a coward, rather than telling you the truth…

✯✯✯

Things had not gotten any easier for Din in the days that had followed since that evening in your bedroom. His soul was as anguished as ever, as he realised the precariousness of his situation. It had taken all of his strength and experience to make it to the end of another week of filming. Between takes, however, his mind wandered as he fretted about what to do, about where to even begin, were he to tell you the truth. 

Events from that night at your flat in particular had been weighing heavily on Din’s mind. It wasn’t as though Din had ever been in the dark about your love for the show that he was the star of, but seeing an image of himself in your bedroom, right above your bed, had rocked him to his core. It had made him realise what a dangerous position he had put himself in by being reckless and exploring a relationship with you. The worst thing was how much he cared for you. He was at constant war with himself, wondering how he dared to have the right to say he cared for you after the way he had purposefully hidden something from you. After he had lied to you.

Of course, when he thought of that night, Din was frustrated at how close the two of you had finally been to taking your relationship to another level, only to be stopped short by unforeseen circumstances. That frustration paled in comparison to how terrible Din felt at the thought of how personally you might have taken the interaction. 

He had tried to make it clear that his reason for backing away was not because he didn’t want you or was not attracted to you. Din knew that if you knew some of the ways he thought about you, you would never think such a thing. It broke his heart to think that you may have ever considered such a terrible thing to be true, when in reality, he wanted you more than anything.

Din ran, in part, because seeing the image of a version of himself staring back at him – a character that you loved and had passionately defended that day at the convention – freaked him out due to its looming presence over your bed. He also ran because seeing that poster was a stark reminder of the secret he was hiding from you. Din realised that he could not in good conscience take things any further without first being honest with you about who he really was. 

Lying to you was one thing, a matter he still bitterly regretted but actually falling into bed with you without having first had the guts to tell you the truth about the secret he had been keeping from you? Well, that would feel, to Din, like a betrayal of you. So, despite how much Din had ached to stay and allow himself to fall in bed with you, the pang of terror that he felt as the steely, unrelenting gaze of his own T-visor stared back at him had sent him running for the hills.

Try as he might to push it from his mind and distract himself with filming and taking care of Grogu, thoughts of that night and his near-betrayal of you continued to feature prominently in Din’s mind, even when he was on set. Between takes, he would think of how he was going to cut himself free from the tangle of lies he had weaved for himself.

Every scenario that he ran through in his mind of how to move forward seemed to have some downside. There was to be no way out of this particular predicament. A real bind, in every sense. 

Din was in an incredibly difficult position. Albeit one that he had only himself to blame for putting himself in. He knew at the time that pursuing something with you, even after he knew how big of a fan of Mando you were, was probably not the smartest idea. Yet, not having you in his life was unthinkable. You had bowled him over with your attentiveness, your intelligence and your kindness towards Grogu. Just being yourself had caused the ordinarily stoic and composed man, a trained warrior, to lose all rational thought. His Sunflower, his beautiful Sunflower, had brought so much vibrancy to his life. 

It was better to tell you the truth before you figured it out yourself. Din knew that if he left it too long and you figured out who he was before he had told you, it might hurt you. He had already had more than enough close shaves. There had been a couple of occasions when things had gotten too close for comfort for Din’s liking, especially for a man who always liked to be in control.

It wasn’t just the envelope that had brought you dangerously close to uncovering the truth that night in the hotel. There was the other moment when the two of you were splashing around in the hot tub. He remembered how you had insisted that he reminded you of Mando. It was more of a comparison to his physical attributes, rather than any concrete theories. But still, Din had panicked, frantically wondering whether the bottle of champagne that had been delivered in Jim’s name had made something click for you. He tried his best to maintain an air of calmness outwardly, while inside, Din was frantic that you hadn’t been in an entirely drunken stupor when he explained the name away. 

Mercifully, the following morning when you woke up, Din discovered that you had been so out of it that you hadn’t even remembered whether you had slept together and had been utterly convinced that you had gone to the spa. If you couldn’t remember those two things, there was no way you remembered the envelope or the comments you made to him in the hot tub. It had been too close for comfort, but you had not brought it up on subsequent dates and it seemed that it was long out of your mind.

Din wondered if these close calls, the way you had unknowingly come close to uncovering the truth, had perhaps been a sign that he needed to be honest with you. He considered how, if your hands had roamed just a little lower than merely his stomach when the two of you were kissing in your bedroom, things would have passed a point of no return. Din wanted you so badly that he was sure that even having seen the poster, he would have been left with no choice but to stay with you. To finally get close to you and feel your body against his, without any barriers. Just the two of you, finally becoming one. 

Perhaps it was for the best then, that he had spied the poster when he did. That there was possibly a hint of hesitancy in your ministrations which had bought him some time. Instead of focusing on his frustration, Din wondered whether he should be grateful that events had played out the way that they had. He would never be grateful that he had pushed you away and upset you, of course. But perhaps this was the wake up call he needed, an opportunity he should seize as now, he had no choice but to address his bizarre behaviour. 

But every time he imagined himself telling you the truth, Din felt himself trembling with nerves, in stark contrast to his usual stoic nature. He wondered how he would ever get the words out, how to even begin to tell you the truth. It was such a ridiculous, unimaginable predicament that someone as ordinarily calculating and meticulous as Din had gotten himself into. 

It didn’t help that he could not shake you from his mind, either. 

No matter how hard he tried, visions of your face would not stop flickering through his mind. Even when he was not with you, Din longed for your presence, to feel you close to him. To press more kisses against your soft lips and traverse your soft skin with his hands. He could not stop thinking about you, no matter how hard he tried. Not when he was on set, or alone at home with Grogu, or lying awake at night. You were all that was on his mind.

✯✯✯

Somehow, despite how distracted Din had been, he had successfully made it through another week of filming The Mandalorian without another disastrous day like the one he had after encountering you at the museum when he had been sent for an early lunch. Well, almost made it through. It was Friday lunchtime on set and Din found himself sitting alone in his trailer with only his racing thoughts for company. The silence gave him an opportunity to quietly contemplate his next move. It was a warm summer's day, so Iggy had taken Grogu to a local park to get some fresh air so the little boy wasn’t cooped up in the studio all day. In his absence, Din felt his emotions all the more strongly, with no one there to distract him from fretting about how he was ever going to tell you the truth. 

At the peak of his despondency, there was a knock at the door. Din placed his helmet atop his head and padded across the room, and discovered a certain eccentric, curly-haired co-star at the door. 

“Heard Grogu wasn’t around, figured you might want some company,” Peli offered as she marched across the room and took a seat on the plush sofa. 

“Thanks, Peli,” Din nodded, before taking a seat next to her. He sighed. Din was grateful for her presence, the distraction she would provide from his anguish, but he was struggling to keep his emotions in check.

“You seem a little stressed,” Peli noted.

Din shrugged. He wasn’t always the most skilled at talking about his feelings, especially not with someone who could be as abrasive as Peli.

“How are things going with your girl, Mando?” Peli asked. If Din had been able to drink the coffee that he had been sipping before Peli had entered the room in her presence instead of needing to hide his face behind a helmet after she entered, he was sure he would have spat it all over her.

“I… uh, fine,” Din stuttered.

“You don’t sound so sure,” Peli said, raising an eyebrow.

“No, things are great. She’s great. Fantastic, intelligent, beautiful. So funny and caring towards Grogu. It’s just… me,” Din sighed. 

“Why? Did something happen?” Peli asked, her voice full of sympathy.

“I haven’t told her the truth, Peli,” Din admitted. “I can’t, I’m too afraid of losing her. But I fear if I don’t soon, I might push her away.”

Din elected to omit the steamier details of just how and why he had ended up in your room, knowing that Peli would never let him live it down otherwise. He could already imagine all the ways she would tease him, so he continued with his retelling of events, minus the salacious details:

“I was at her flat last weekend. We were having a lovely evening but then I saw, in one of the rooms, that she had a poster of me, of Mando. I knew she was a fan but just seeing it, I freaked out,” Din winced at the memory. “I ran away. I feel like I can’t lie to her anymore, but I don’t know how to tell her the truth.”

“Oh, Mando,” Peli said sympathetically, squeezing Din’s arm just underneath his pauldron in an attempt to console him. “It seems as though you’re really in a tough spot.”

The fact that Peli wasn’t laughing or teasing him, somehow made Din feel even worse about the whole thing. At least if Peli had made some teasing remark or joke about it, things would have felt far more normal and less intimidating to Din. Instead, the fact that Peli actually felt bad and was comforting him, was a testament to the seriousness of the situation.

“I know. I don’t know what to do, Peli,” Din admitted. 

“Can you tell her?” Peli asked. “I mean, are you allowed to? Is there anything in your contract that would forbid you from telling other people?”

“No,” Din replied, honestly. “I can tell whoever I want, but others are forbidden from naming me. There are only a handful of people that know my identity.”

“So if you wanted to, right now, you could take your helmet off and show me your face?” Peli said, clearly stunned at the information.

“I could,” Din confirmed.

“But you’re not going to.”

“No, Peli. I’m not going to,” Din agreed, relieved that the question was hypothetical, that she was not pushing him.

“Well, that’s interesting to note,” Peli said with a smirk and Din found himself relieved that the characteristic teasing tone he was so used to was back. “No, seriously, Mando. I think you just have to come out with it and tell her the truth. Does she talk about the show a lot? I mean, does she talk about it enough that after telling her the truth, you would feel like she was only staying with you because she’s a fan of the show and not because she likes you as a person?”

“No, not at all. Our connection goes deeper than all of this,” Din said, gesticulating towards his armour. “She mentioned Mando once when she was wasted. She said that I seemed as nice and kind as him and something about how I had broad shoulders. Which I suppose are all compliments. And I didn’t realise that people paid any attention to my shoulders.”

“Oh yeah, absolutely,” Peli nodded, her eyes glazing over slightly as she agreed. “I mean the suit! The suit just makes you look broad!”

Din smirked behind the helmet and shook his head at the kooky woman before him. Peli could be ridiculous sometimes. Din always felt as though she was an older relative, always keen to look out for him. Until sometimes, when she would make comments which led Din to believe that she possibly had a crush on him. Theirs was a confusing dynamic, but ultimately Din knew how deeply they both cared for each other. 

“Anyway, Mando. I think you have to tell her before things get any more serious between the two of you. If you wait, she might feel as though you lied to her. Maybe she’d even resent you, after finding out the truth. I don’t think there’s any way around it. Being The Mandalorian is such a big part of your life, I can’t imagine you hiding that from anyone. I mean, have you considered the fact that you will probably leave the country soon, after filming finishes?”

“No. I hadn’t even thought of us leaving. Um, I was considering sticking around since Grogu seems to love it here so much. It’s quiet and peaceful. I was thinking Grogu and I could build a life together here, with her.”

“Awwww, Mando. Look at you, settling down, putting down roots!” Peli teased.

Din huffed a laugh from underneath his helmet, but truthfully Peli’s words terrified him. Could he ever truly stay in one place and allow anyone to occupy his heart entirely? Din knew that if anyone was going to convince him to finally make a home somewhere, it was going to be you.

That thought should have excited him, thrilled him as he imagined your future together. But as he went about the rest of his day and finished filming, all he could think about was the terror of losing you forever when he finally told you the truth. Lying about the name on the envelope, deflecting questions about his job, while you ranted about yours. Would you ever forgive him?

Seeing Grogu after he arrived home did not even help his anguished soul, either. Even as he played with his son that night, visions of your face contorting in pain and rage as you discovered the truth about his identity played in his mind, over and over.

Despite understanding that telling you the truth was the best course of action, Din was still absolutely terrified. After putting Grogu to bed, he sat on the couch and texted you, laughing at the humour that shone through in your every word as you caught him up on your week. With each string of letters and message received, your words unknowingly only added to Din’s anguish. The feeling that he continued to live a lie was never far from his mind. His guilt for starting something with you when he knew that he was hiding a secret that would surely change everything loomed over him. 

Din knew that he had to tell you the truth about who he was. Telling the truth was the right thing to do. A man as honourable as Din valued the truth above all else. He knew that it might cost him everything, but he couldn’t stand to see you hurt if he waited any longer to tell you the truth. Din knew that coming clean could change everything between the two of you. He was aware that you might even hate him after discovering that he had not been entirely transparent with you, but it was a risk he had to take if he was going to secure any kind of future with you. Din knew that healthy relationships could not be built upon lies and deception. At least not without them crumbling eventually.

It wasn’t going to be easy, though.

As he went to bed that night, Din fretted that the next time he laid his head upon his pillow, he would have lost you forever. He feared that you would never speak to him again after he finally came clean and revealed the truth…

✯✯✯

Ding dong.

Din bounded to the door enthusiastically after hearing the doorbell ring, leaving Grogu momentarily unattended in the kitchen. Despite the part of him that was dreading the news that he knew he would have to impart on you, he couldn’t wait to see you. Din had been practically giddy all morning, the thought of finally having you in his house was an electrifying prospect. 

Din hoped that telling you the truth wouldn’t change your relationship in the long run. He supposed that you would probably take some time to process his revelation, and he wouldn’t be able to blame you for that. Din imagined that discovering that the guy you had been dating for a couple of months was secretly the actor from your favourite show would take some time to wrap your head around. For a man usually so meticulous and deliberate with his actions, surprisingly, Din hadn’t thought precisely about how he would tell you. He just hoped that he would slip it into conversation perhaps gradually with some hints that would lead you to hopefully connect the dots without too much intervention from him. 

The first sight of you, after Din opened the door, caused all thoughts of telling you to flee far from his mind. You looked so beautiful, even though you were not dressed for anything more formal than a casual afternoon with Din and his boy. He stood there for a second, transfixed at the way you wore your hair and how your clothes complimented your features perfectly.

“Earth to Din!” You giggled, waving a hand.

“Oh!” Din shook his head, finally realising that he had been standing there wordlessly admiring you. “Come on in, Sunflower.”

Din’s heart swelled as you smiled and stepped over the threshold, gracing his cottage with your presence for the very first time. It only expanded further when you wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned in for a kiss. When you finally broke away for air, you leaned your forehead against Din’s and smiled shyly.

“Hi,” you whispered. “Been wanting to do that all week.”

“Me too,” Din smiled, enjoying the intimacy of the moment. “Come on, I’ll show you where we’re having lunch.” 

Din stepped back from your embrace and began walking through the corridor which led to the kitchen, eager to see his son.

“Grogu can’t wait to see you, I made us–” but Din trailed off when he realised he did not hear your footsteps behind him. 

Din smiled at the way you had stopped in the corridor, a look of awe on your face as you glanced out of the old paned window towards the rolling lush green hills that lay just beyond the window. When he had first moved here, Din had found himself just as awestruck as you were. Somewhere along the way, he had forgotten just how beautiful the view was. Life had gotten busier, his schedule more hectic... but thankfully you were here to bring some peace back.

“In under an hour I’ve gone from the sprawl of the city to something as peaceful and scenic as this,” you whispered in amazement. “It’s beautiful.” 

“Not as beautiful as you,” Din breathed as he walked up behind you and placed his strong arms around your waist. He nuzzled into your hair, enjoying your scent and delicately kissed the top of your head.

Din was happy to hold you in that embrace for a few minutes, holding you closely and tightly as if he were scared that you were going to slip away from him somehow. He felt as though you might, given the enormity of what he had yet to tell you. Plus, he wanted to make up for the way he had pushed you away the previous week and underline how attracted he was to you. Din probably could have stayed there all afternoon, holding you close and feeling the calmness and warmth that spread throughout his body whenever you were in his arms. But it seemed that his son had other ideas. Grogu let out a loud babble from the kitchen and Din released your waist, not without one final kiss. 

“I’m afraid that my cooking skills are not quite as good as yours,” Din admitted as the pair of you walked to the kitchen, hand in hand. “So I just made us some sandwiches.”

“Sounds wonderful,” you smiled as you entered the kitchen. “Hi Grogu!” You said cheerfully to the little boy who was sitting patiently in his high chair at the table, clearly eager to commence with the lunch that his father had lovingly made for him.

Din loved the way you greeted Grogu, you spoke to him as though he was a person and not just a cute child. Din knew that somehow, Grogu sensed the world around him on a deeper level than most children of his age did, due to his past. It was something that both broke his heart but made him incredibly proud to be this little boy’s guardian. 

“Those sandwiches look like they were made by someone who loves you very much,” you said, nodding towards Grogu’s plate before smiling at Din.

Din found himself blushing as he realised that you had noticed the way he had prepared Grogu’s food. He had painstakingly cut the crusts off Grogu’s sandwiches and chopped them into triangles. It was just how Grogu preferred them, he couldn’t resist spoiling the little boy and giving him pretty much everything that he wanted. If there was something that made Grogu happy, Din would not hesitate to accommodate him.

✯✯✯

After lunch had been eaten, Din was about to suggest going for a walk. He thought that he could perhaps use the stunning scenery to his advantage, to distract you from the wrath that you would no doubt wish to reign down upon him after you discovered the information that he had been hiding from you. But you were first to speak, and your words struck terror into Din’s heart.

“You know, it’s funny because I thought I recognised the name of this village for some reason, and when we drove over here, the driver was telling me that there are some film studios here,” you babbled excitedly. “He told me that this is where they made the original Star Wars movies. I didn’t realise how close it was to where you live, Din!” 

Din was frozen by your comment, utterly blindsided by your words. Was that a hint, a question? Was it wrong that he desperately hoped it was? At least he wouldn’t have to begin the conversation himself, then. Plus, Peli had suggested that he take a run-up to the reveal by perhaps first telling you that he worked on the show and then eventually saying that he was in fact The Mandalorian. Din knew that this would be the perfect chance to slip it in, tell you that yes, he did work at the studios and what was more, he worked on your favourite show. Instead, Din felt himself frozen, paralysed by fear. Despite the moment which had fallen into his lip, he could not seize the opportunity.

“Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, looking down in embarrassment. “I forgot you don’t like Star Wars.”

Din breathed a tremendous sigh of relief, the moment had passed, without him even needing to intervene.

“It’s fine, Sunflower,” Din smiled. “I never realised just how close it was,” Din shrugged, busying himself with clearing the plates.

It was another lie. They were almost becoming too easy now, too habitual. If you weren’t currently speaking to Grogu and making the little boy roar with laughter, perhaps Din’s mind would have been spiralling and berating himself for his lies. Instead, he was smiling back at the interaction as he tidied the mess from your lunch away and thinking just how perfectly you had already fitted into life in his cottage…

✯✯✯

Din felt the comforting weight of Grogu in his baby carrier, nestled against his chest as the three of you strolled through the stunning countryside. It was a presence that Din attempted to ground himself with, to draw strength from as he thought about beginning to tell you the truth. The words ran through his mind, over and over. But he could not bring himself to vocalise them, to begin telling you the truth. Din peered down at Grogu’s curly hair, feeling his heart constrict when he thought of all his son had been through in his young life. The child had seemed happiest here, in this location, out of the numerous places they had lived together. Not only that, but Grogu had seemed at his happiest with you. How could Din ever bring that crashing down for him?

As you strolled up a hill towards a particularly stunning view that Din enjoyed hiking up to whenever he had a day off, Din considered that now would be the perfect opportunity to just come clean to you and inform you that he was in fact, the man behind your favourite TV show. Something was stopping him each time. It was the way you looked, your complexion glowing against the landscape. It was the way you felt, your soft hand in his, fingers laced tightly together. It was how you made him feel, the warm presence in his chest whenever you were near. No matter how hard Din tried to visualise him saying those words and finally vocalising the rough script that had been turning over in his mind over and over… Din just could not do it. He was utterly terrified of losing you, of ruining this thing that had become so precious and had been just what you both needed. To ruin that, to potentially cause himself and Grogu to lose you, it was unthinkable.

So he stayed quiet. Din realised he was doing something he utterly despised: being a coward. But he rationalised his decision as he looked down at his son, realising how calm and serene Grogu was at this moment. There was no way Din could contemplate sacrificing his son’s happiness.

Din’s silence caused his heart to flutter with anxiety when the two of you approached the crest of the hill and the grey buildings came into view. Once again, he had inadvertently put himself in a position where Din and Mando’s worlds were coming dangerously close to colliding.

Din regretted his decision to suggest this particular route almost as soon as the three of you made it to the crest of a fairly sizable hill about half a mile from his house. His regret did not come due to the grey clouds that had suddenly rolled in across the horizon. It came because he realised, far too late, that his place of work was on full display from up here. The grey buildings that comprised The Volume were visible, even behind the tall ferns that had been planted to try and obstruct the views. Din knew that since you were such a big fan of the show, you likely knew full well that it was not only the original Star Wars movies which had been shot here, but The Mandalorian too. Inviting you to his home had been a risk for numerous reasons, but this walk had been downright reckless. 

Din glanced over at you, wondering if you had connected the dots. He found your expression impossible to read, but probably one of awe due to your surroundings rather than realising the significance of the buildings. If you had realised their significance, however, you had not vocalised it to him. Din hoped, as you stood there appreciating the view that you were too busy focusing on the rolling hills and lush greenery to realise the importance of the buildings before you.

Mercifully, the climate of Din’s temporary home country was here to bail him out. It was early August, but that did not stop the typical English weather from being as unpredictable as ever. The grey clouds that had rolled in suddenly looked more ominous than they had when the three of you had first reached the crest of the hill. Din noticed that the air was suddenly incredibly peaceful and still. 

But not for long. 

The heavens opened, and thick raindrops were suddenly pelting the three of you. Grogu let out a squeal as his father moved to place a hood over his unruly curly hair. Din looked around, fearful that you would be cold and upset that your walk had been ruined. But instead of finding you despondent or enraged, Din was relieved to see the enormous grin that had swept over your features. As the pair of you began to take in your predicament – stranded on top of a hill with a toddler in tow as a storm swept in – Din found that he could not do anything except laugh. He was almost bent double, hands on his knees as he dissolved into fits of giggles. Din had not been this carefree, he had not laughed this much for a long time. But, here, with you… in this stupid situation that would have probably completely freaked him out if he was here with anyone else on earth… he could do nothing more than laugh. It was a freeing, welcome experience and he soon found that his cheeks ached after all the laughter.

“There’s a tree over there, should we shelter underneath it?” Your suggestion finally snapped him out of his glee. The idea of waiting out the storm underneath a tree seemed palatable at first, but Din soon realised that this might be a storm of such veracity to include lightning. After all, the rumbles of thunder had been the last sounds before the heavens had opened.

“What if there’s a bolt of lightning?” Din replied, having to shout slightly over the noise of the rain. He suddenly realised that despite the time he had spent outdoors in his life, he did not comprehend storms as well as he should have. The English countryside was rather unfamiliar terrain to him, after all. 

“Good point,” you agreed. 

Din looked at you quizzically as you reached out to take his hand in yours. Although the two of you had walked up the hill, hand in hand, he had dropped it in all the commotion of putting the hood on Grogu and making sure his son was okay. The rain was pelting down with a vengeance now, hard enough that Din was momentarily concerned that it was going to leave bruises. He was just about to open his mouth to ask you why you had taken his hand, when, without warning… you started running down the hill. Din almost found himself knocked off his feet, fortunately, his reflexes meant that your actions did not send Din and Grogu tumbling down in a muddy heap.

Perhaps it was the adrenaline of running hand in hand with you, or the distinct giddiness that rain has a unique ability to cause, but Din could not stop laughing the entire way home. Even as your pace slowed once you did not have the slope of the hill to assist your journey home, he was still breathless with laughter. The rain slowed somewhat as the three of you made it to the village, and had almost stopped when Din’s cottage finally came into view. Din was soaked to the bone and fretted as your teeth began chattering as you walked up the path.

“The heating should be on,” Din offered as he pushed the old wooden door open.

“Excellent!” You squealed, making a beeline for the radiator. “I’m staying right here!” You sighed, clinging to the radiator for dear life.

“Alright, I’m just going to bathe Grogu and then put him down for a nap,” Din explained.

“Okay, see you later Grogu,” you smiled. “And well done for being so brave.”

Din grinned as he ascended the stairs, his heart soaring at your words. Some people may not have even picked up on how scary a storm could be for a child as sensitive to Grogu… but you were different. You stunned Din with the depths of your capacity for love with every interaction.

✯✯✯

When Grogu was bathed, dried and settled for his nap, Din descended the stairs. A smirk appeared over his features when he realised that you were still in the same position. His smirk dropped as soon as he realised that you were wearing significantly fewer clothes than he remembered.

“Sorry, I had to take my shirt and jeans off,” you shrugged. “Couldn’t bear the feeling of wet clothes.

“It’s fine, Sunflower,” Din nodded, but his brain was struggling to comprehend the sight before him. Of you, topless, in his house.

“Din?!” You exclaimed, Din snapped his head to look at you, not realising that he had been ignoring you. “I said, is it okay if I take a shower?”

“Oh! Right, sorry of course you can. I’ll get you a spare pair of pyjamas.” Din said, mouth slightly ajar as he regarded you in just your underwear. He had seen you in only a swimsuit that night in the hotel, of course, but that had been a few weeks ago. And you had been wasted. Ogling you then had felt like he was taking advantage of you… but now you seemed to know full well what you were doing. Your shy smile indicated exactly that you knew the impact you were having on his body. 

That night in the flat, when you had been about to finally fall into bed together until the poster that hung above your bed had stopped him in his tracks, was a distant memory. Din had cursed that poster endlessly since that fateful day, now perhaps he would curse it no more. Every day since then, he yearned to touch you, to taste you. Every time he had gotten himself off quickly in the shower when his thoughts had become too much to bear any longer, it was you who he imagined as he pumped his length with his fist. Your mouth around his throbbing cock, so soft, so warm…

“Hello! Din!” You said, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Uh, shit. I’m sorry.” Din said, absolutely mortified that you had caught his mind wandering again.

“I was just asking you to show me where the bathroom is, so I can take a shower. My eyes are up here, mister,” you added, with a flirtatious smirk.

“Sorry, yes, of course,” Din quickly recovered and moved in the direction of the stairs.

As he ascended them with you following closely behind, Din took a deep breath in an attempt to steady his racing pulse. He had invited you here to tell you the truth about who he was. Now, thanks to the weather, things had taken a risque turn that he had certainly never intended.

When he reached the bathroom, he pushed the door open and switched the light on. You stepped inside and murmured your thanks.

“Enjoy your shower,” Din breathed and then turned around to leave.

Din jumped as he felt your fingers close around his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. You pulled him back towards you and placed your fingers into his curly hair. For a moment, Din wondered if he was going to pass out as you played with the damp dark brown hairs at the nape of his neck. He sighed and gazed at you adoringly. Then, Din groaned as you tilted your head to the side to kiss him, firstly on his mouth and then along his jaw. 

“I didn’t say you couldn’t come with me,” you purred, your hot breath washing over the shell of his ear. Din shuddered with want.

Din nodded and took you by the hand. There was no going back now. No Mandalorian posters to stop you, no revealing secrets to halt this moment in its tracks. Din was already hard, throbbing with the weeks of pent-up desire that being close to you without having the opportunity to act upon it had produced.

Din wanted you, badly. 

As the two of you stood there in the bathroom, Din was vaguely aware that he didn’t want the first time he had you to be in the shower. He wanted to take you to bed, worship you with his lips and tongue, show you how special you were to him, how much you had changed his life. Din wasn’t sure that pushing you up against the tiles of his bathroom as the hot jets of his shower cascaded over your naked bodies was quite what he had envisioned for your first time together. Then again, there were many ways that you had taken Din by surprise throughout your relationship. The more he considered it, the more desperate your moans got as he continued the steamy makeout session in his bathroom with you, the more Din was certainly coming around to the idea.

When you reached around your back to peel your wet bra off your body, all protestations had left Din’s mind. You were so perfect, so beautiful, you clearly wanted him so badly given how your cheeks were flushed, your lips parted and your eyes darkened in desire as you gazed at him through your eyelashes. How could he deny you what you wanted?

“You’re beautiful,” Din rasped as he gathered you in his strong arms, bringing his lips to your neck and kissing a trail down towards your chest.

“Let’s get in the shower,” you panted. Din was pleased that you had somehow maintained enough brain cells to remind him of why you were in here in the first place. Neither of you particularly needed any warming up anymore, but there was a feeling of griminess that lingered after being caught in the rain like that.

As Din stripped out of his remaining clothes, discarding them alongside your soaked underwear in a heap on the floor that he would deal with later, he almost tripped in his haste to climb in the shower alongside you. Knowing that you were waiting for him, naked, and how badly you wanted him was enough to almost make him lose coordination in his desperation. Din could hardly believe this was happening, this was real. Although at the time he had cursed the English weather for being so unpredictable, it seemed now that it would be a blessing in disguise. You had ended up exactly where he had fantasised about you. Except this time, Din wouldn’t be stroking himself as he moaned your name desperately into an empty bathroom. This time, you would be moaning his name as you finally came together as one.

Din entered the shower and practically moaned at the sight of your naked form under the water. He grinned at the sight of you waiting for him, a perfect vision…

✯✯✯

Din’s breath hitched in his throat as he walked into Grogu’s bedroom and saw the sight before him. After the shower the two of you shared – which had devoted far more time to pleasure than actually cleaning off, but it had suitably achieved its initial goal of warming both of you up – Din had given you a pair of his pyjamas to change into while he went to make a hot drink. The sight of you wearing his old maroon flannel pyjamas had sent a bolt of desire coursing through him that almost sent him stripping you straight back out of them.  A task he would have relished, were it not for Grogu’s mewling over the baby monitor. Din had looked at you apologetically, but you had waved away his concerns and instantly gone to assist his son.

When he returned holding the steaming mugs, he saw you sprawled out on your stomach on the floor of Grogu’s bedroom, playing dinosaurs with him. It was a scene so shockingly domestic that it set every single one of Din’s nerve endings alight. You were being so attentive to Grogu, playing with him as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Grogu was giggling and clapping his chubby hands together. Din knew that he had had every intention of telling the truth, but it seemed as though the threat of missing out on moments like this was too great a risk to contemplate. Din set the mugs down and stood back to continue observing the scene before him.

“Thanks,” you smiled, before returning your attention to the boy.

“Come on Grogu, let’s play with this,” you said, leading Grogu to the corner of the room where a small wooden train set lay once he had become uninterested in the dinosaurs.

Observing you there with Grogu, Din felt as though the pieces of his life had finally fallen into place. Everything was too perfect. The hours Din had lay awake, worrying whether he was doing the right thing for Grogu by introducing you into their lives seemed like a distant memory now. Now, in you, Grogu had finally found someone he was comfortable with and happy with.

Din loved watching the two of you play together, swallowing a lump in his throat each time little giggles filled the room. That boy had been through too much in his life. To see him so happy was a miracle. Din knew that he couldn’t do anything to jeopardise that. If he told you the truth, he would potentially lose you and the love you had for Grogu, leaving their lives all the poorer for it. He would lose the love he hoped you already had, or would one day have for him, too. 

Din had lost his nerve. He should have been disgusted by himself, for cowardice was not the Mandalorian way. Family was, however, an integral part of being Mandalorian. Din knew that he had taken this decision for the good of his family, so he reasoned that he should not be too harsh on himself. The time for processing the decision he had made could come later, for now, it was time to appreciate your presence.

Din grabbed a brightly coloured wooden carriage and sat cross-legged on the fluffy carpet, smiling at the way the two of you seemed so thrilled he had joined in the game you were playing. The way you had fitted in with his home, as though you had always been here, it was difficult to believe that it had just been him and Grogu for so long.

As he pushed the wooden trains around with you and Grogu, Din almost dared to dream that the three of you were becoming a family.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @toxic-seduction @survivingandenduring @readingiskeepingmegoing

[fandomnerd9602]

While Gwen was off with the Spider Society, Y/N ends up getting Spider powers and was essentially forced to become a hero and hold down the fort. And let’s just say they’re, initially, not very happy with Gwen once she finally comes back.

Band Mates

Gwen Stacy x Spider!Reader

First Person POV

If it wasn’t the fact that my best friend, Gwen Stacy aka the Ghost Spider, disappeared with that Spider Society that got me down, then it would have to be the other thing that happened less than a week later.

I were investigating Oscorp for a news article for the Daily Bugle, when one of their little spider experiments bit me. Turns out it was part of an experiment to replicate Gwen’s powers. So one spider bite later and now New York has a new spider person guarding it. More often than not I feel like the clean up crew. I mean it’s not all bad, my only job was Uber Eats delivery, so imagine the delight of customers getting their eats delivered by the Night Monkey. Yeah that’s seriously the name I went with. The only name not taken, I think.

And then came today. I was out on patrol, going after the Vulture. Pretty standard stuff when suddenly another set of webbing trapped the criminal.

“And who are you supposed to be?” A familiar voice asks me.

I turn and there she was the Ghost Spider. “Night Monkey” I answer back. “Picking up where you left off”

I tried to swing away but Gwen was persistent, swinging after me. Didn’t take her too long to catch up to me. “Slow down!” she practically ordered me.

“Why should I?” I countered, “you left! And I had to play janitor because of you”

“I get it! You’re mad” she answers back.

Our webs entangled, spinning around each other. I nearly slam into her, I try to hold her at arms length.

“You left, Gwen” i answer.

“Y/N?!” Gwen removed her mask and removed mine. “you’re a-”

“yeah you can blame Oscorp for that one” i sigh. “why’d you leave?”

“I was hurt” Gwen sniffles back a couple tears, “my dad was against me”

“I wasn’t. Nothing you do could turn me against you, Gwen”

“I know. I should’ve taken you with me”

“Why are you back now?”

“They kicked me out.” she huffed, “so much for a new band”

She carried so much hurt, she was still my best friend, my only high school crush. I wrapped a comforting arm around her, trying my best to hug her, “What about our band?”

“In every other universe, Gwen Stacy always falls for Spider-Man and it doesn’t end well”

she sighs, “and if Miguel was right, then it won’t end well for you either.”

“but I’m not Spider Man, remember?” I try to joke with her, “everyone calls me the Night Monkey”

“What?” Gwen laughs at my name. Her smile, it could always brighten the atmosphere.

“It was the only one not taken. I think” i shrug.

“I’m sorry” Gwen looks to my eyesight, and then to my lips. Wait what?

“I’m sorry too” I find myself saying. My spider sense starts going off, but not one of danger. I could feel that Gwen’s was going off too. It’s like our two spider senses were starting to coalesce. Her pupils were beginning to dilate, maybe mine were too.

“You just gonna keep staring, Monkey?” Gwen actually smirks at me. I could practically feel my heart beating out of my chest.

Using the hand I still had wrapped around her, I pulled her into a kiss. Man, it was just as amazing as i thought it’d be. She wrapped an arm around my waist, holding me as tight as possible.

My best friend, I thought, she’s a great kisser. We pulled apart, maybe a little too quickly for my taste, she looked back at me with love in her eyes.

“Get a room, you two” Vulture screamed at us as he flew by.

“To be continued?” Gwen asks with a little giggle.

“Definitely” I found myself smiling back as we slipped on our masks and swung after Toomes.

I guess New York’s got two spider people to look after it: Ghost Spider and the Night Monkey. Quite a power couple if I dare say.

[minecraftbookshelf]

In the Age of Icons: Mistakes Are Made

Chapter One: The Day Of

A Marriage of State AU Fic

[AU Masterpost (includes the AO3 link)]

Characters: Jimmy Solidarity, Xornoth, Katherine Elizabeth, Mythical J Sausage

Relationships (for the AU as a whole): Eventual (very slow burn) Flower Husbands, (established) Shadowbeans/Jizzie, (obnoxiously new) Jornoth, Eventual (very far future) Nature Wives

Wordcount: 4214

Rating On AO3: This particular fic is rated T, future installments in the AU may go all the way up to E for graphic violence but most will be between T & M

Chapter POV: Jimmy Solidarity & Xornoth

Summary:

The Codfather weaves his fingertips together so that the slight webbing between his fingers touches. It's the first time in a while he's had both hands away from his shoulder, where at least one has been hovering near his sword hilt almost the entire time, despite Katherine's glares. "It's a marriage treaty, between the royalty of the oppositions, bound in blood and salt, for peace and mutual gain." His voice has gained a slight sing-song cadence to it, even through what is clearly a slightly stumbling translation, that Xornoth recognizes from their own anytime they are reciting something from their childhood lessons, even to this day.

Warnings: A sort of general reminder of the narrative took "Unreliable Narrators"

This AU features multiple arranged marriages across the spectrum of platonic-romantic and the complicated nuances of chosen and arranged.

Any section from Xornoth's POV does have parts that read like very violent and occasionally graphic intrusive thoughts due to the whole "there is a demon living in their head" thing. If that's something you think you might have issues with, please proceed with caution if you choose to proceed at all.

--

Jimmy spends the majority of his flight to the Overgrown fuming and imagining the many different ways he could kill Sausage. It's cathartic indulgence and if he's busy imagining swarms of axolotls and pufferfish descend on the Mythlandic king in his minds' eye than he isn't worrying about the actual situation and what it could potentially mean for him and the Swamp.

Much. He isn't worrying about it much.

The fact that Sausage had made it past the Swamp border and all the way to Jimmy's house without being seen or stopped is...fine. It's fine.

The wind catches Jimmy's elytra at an odd angle and he dips alarmingly low for a heart-jolting moment; his tail flailing out on instinct in an attempt to steady him in a non-existent current. He catches himself before he actually crashes into the treetops, though he does have to bank hard to the left in a way that pulls the harness sharp against his shoulder. The joint twinges at the strain and he grimaces. He'll probably feel that tomorrow. He's been skipping out on his stretches, in all the chaos of the escalating tensions, and his bad side has been worse than usual. He can feel the tension of the old scar tissue at his elbow and the tightness of the muscle down his neck and shoulder.

Joel will yell at him for that.

On the bright side, maybe he'll go to war with the Mythlands and then he'll be too busy to get yelled at. He thinks Pix would call that 'silver linings.'

The trees thin out and give way to green grass fields dotted with sheep and flowers and Jimmy angles his trajectory downwards. The magic saturating the Border of the Overgrown brushes his scales as he enters and he shudders. It doesn't matter how many times he comes to visit Katherine, every time is just as unsettling. It feels like the time he bit an electric eel as a fry. A tingle and a buzzing that leaves the webbing between his fingers numb and his teeth hurting.

Katherine's house materializes on the horizon, the layers of glamour falling away and Jimmy banks into a spiral to land. He's been airborne for so long that he's barely even damp and, last minute, he decides to land in the water feature instead of on the grass surrounding it. He lands in the fountain with a splash and a sigh, the water closing over his head and offering blessed relief. His gills flare, water flowing freely through his right side and even managing a pass on his left. He allows himself a moment to settle beneath the surface and let the itchy dry feeling of his scales fade, away from the biting cold and thin air of the skyways.

He rolls over and stares at the sky, taking a minute to just exist. It's uncomfortable; his elytra, his trident, and his sword all pressing into his spine, but at least it is calm and quiet.

His view is almost immediately obstructed by a far, far too familiar silhouette tinted red and gold.

Jimmy bolts upright and almost slams his forehead into Sausage's.

He scrambles back and to his feet where he stands, dripping, in the fountain to the backdrop of the displeased gazes of Katherine's door guards and the giggles of the King of Mythland.

How did this go so wrong so fast?

"Hello, Jimmy!"

He manages to clamber out of the fountain without tripping and falling flat on his face at least. He splashes Katherine in the process, where she is hovering off to the side but he can't really be bothered to worry about that. All he can manage to do is stare at Sausage's smirking face.

"Hello, Jimmy!"

Katherine's greeting is much less mocking and Jimmy looks back down to acknowledge it. Way down. Katherine is the shortest emperor and the white tips of her ears barely clear his elbow. She is smiling up at him as if she hasn't invited him to her house only to ambush him with one of his greatest enemies. As if he hadn't trusted that her home was safe. As if he hadn't trusted that she would stand with him.

"What is he doing here?" He jerks his chin at Sausage, who is still giggling like a child. He sees Jimmy looking and grins at him, all teeth.

Behind the mask, Jimmy bares his own teeth and takes some comfort in the knowledge that he has more of them; and they are sharper. He straightens his spine and does his best to stand at his full height instead of curling slightly to the left. His sword and trident clank softly together over his shoulder.

Katherine looks briefly unsure before she sets her expression and gestures at her door. "We should all go inside and talk there. I would like to help negotiate peace between The Swamp and Mythland."

She's using her official voice. Sausage keeps giggling and Jimmy can barely hear it beneath the roar in his ears. He leans down to try and whisper into the faerie queen's ear.

"I really need your alliance right now, Katherine." He hopes his desperation doesn't show in his voice.

She gives him a reproving look that throws him right back to his brief time spent in a classroom. "I'm allied with everyone, Jimmy. You know that."

"He invaded the Swamp," Jimmy hisses, his ear-fins flaring, ignoring the shudder down his spine from her use of his Name, even in part. "He crossed our borders. Again. He's threatened war." He's no longer whispering by the end, standing to his full height, shoulders back, sword hand by his shoulder.

"And according to him, you've threatened it right back!"

It's almost a physical blow, the way the betrayal hits him. He manages to keep from physically staggering back only because Sausage appears beside him and throws an arm over his shoulder. Something the Mythlandic king has to stand on tiptoe to accomplish. It yanks Jimmy uncomfortably sideways and down and his trident almost slips from his back.

"Come on, Jimmy! Let's talk!" Sausage smiles, all teeth like an alligator, lurking on the surface of the water. "We can make peace!"

Jimmy knocks his arm away and straightens, doing his best to loom over the other ruler. His extra foot of height should be more of an advantage than if feels like. He grabs for the hilt of his sword and is only stopped by Katherine, who flies right up into his face to frown at him.

"No weapons!" She shakes her finger right in front of his mask and Jimmy clamps down on the instinctive urge to yank up the Codfather head and bite it. That would be no help to anyone, especially himself. No one takes him seriously as it is. Except maybe Pix. Maybe.

Instead he focuses on glaring at Sausage over Katherine's shoulder. The king of Mythland beams back at him, hands clasped innocently in front of himself (well away from the hilt of his own greatsword), head cocked to the side. The picture of harmless amiability were it not for the malicious sparkle in his eyes. Ohhhhhh how Jimmy would love to feed his organs to Lizzie's axolotls. He flexes his claws before Katherine grabs his arm and tugs him towards her front door, six tiny fingertips digging into his scales above his vambraces. (The embossed leather the only armor he'd worn, he hadn't realized he'd wish for more.)

Sausage trails behind them and as much as Jimmy reminds himself that not even Sausage would have the audacity to attack him in Katherine's house (probably) he can't quite shake the prickling tension from having an enemy at his back. It feels like the first time Lizzie and Joel took him to clear an ancient monument and he'd stalked through the twisty corridors and boxy rooms with the creeping feeling of being stalked in turn.

Sausage slips and almost falls on some of the tacky slime he'd accidentally tracked in and that does help. Even if he does feel bad for messing up Katherine's floor. He can feel the impassively judgmental stare from Katherine's guards, who's features do not change but still somehow radiate disapproval. He knows he probably shouldn't take it personally, most fae don't think highly of outsiders but it still feels personal.

Sausage recovers quickly and shakes out the fur lining of his coat. "Is it just me or does it smell fishy in here, now?"

"Sausage," Katherine looks disapprovingly back over her shoulder. "That's rude."

"Oh," Sausage blinks at them both, "I'm sorry, Jimmy, I didn't realize."

Jimmy wants to stab him so badly, he sets his shoulders and refrains. He can do this. He's technically trained for this, even if the skills are rusty, fallen aside before the more hands on duties that rebuilding the Swamp has required.

"Oh, this one is new!" Sausage immediately changes the subject, pointing at one of the skulls hanging on the wall of the hall. It's some kind of middling-sized land animal...a sheep maybe? with poppies filling the eye sockets and woven in a crown, there are delicate lines of gold painted across the surface of the bleached bone.

Katherine beams, her irritation at the rudeness forgotten (or at least set aside, fae never truly forget breaches of etiquette) "It is! It's a gift from a childhood friend," she looks fondly upon the skull for a moment. "We've been reconnecting lately."

Sausage nods sagely, "It is always good to spend time with your friends."

"It is," Katherine's ears twitch and her wings flutter briefly before she resumes walking. "Which is why we are going to fix this."

She leads them down the hall towards her library, a room so thoroughly warded that Jimmy can feel the magic against his scales when he passes through the door in an echo of the fae-realm boundaries.

It is a cozy room, despite the elegance and delicacy. It makes Jimmy feel out of place and reminds him a little bit of Lizzie's war room, if a better lit and less damp version. Every corner is full of plants and flowers and books and crystals, and blessedly free of guards and staff and other judging eyes. It's just Jimmy and Katherine and Sausage and the Elvenking sitting in the corner.

Jimmy may or may not do a full and proper double take.

Huge white and black wings, glittering obsidian antlers, an incongruous cup of tea on the side table. Apparently this meeting has interrupted the...reading time? of the King of Rivendell. Jimmy grits his teeth at the presence of one more ally for Sausage and turns his attention to the other two rulers instead. He'll worry about the Elvenking if they decide to become a problem.

-

In retrospect, Xornoth probably should have left as soon as Katherine escorted Sausage and The Codfather into her library, her expression tense and serious despite the cheerful tone to her chatter but in all honesty they were so startled at first that they froze. Now its been just long enough it would be too awkward to get up and leave. And the others are in-between them and the door, which just makes it worse. So they sit in the corner, tome in hand, trying their hardest to pretend they aren't getting a front row seat to the latest incarnation of the Mythland-Swamp dispute, featuring The Codfather's tangible rage and frustration over Katherine's stubborn neutrality.

(Which is understandable, but arguing a fae over their nature is a futile task and The Codfather seems too much a fool to realize it.)

The palpable hostility in the room has Xornoth's feathers fluffing against their will. Katherine is doing her best to mediate but she might as well try to climb a cliff-face in a blizzard. Sausage seems more interested in taunting The Codfather than coming to any kind of agreement and The Codfather himself stubbornly refuses to even consider any kind of negotiations until...a disc is returned?

Meaningless frivolity.

Xornoth isn't quite sure of the intricacies of the Mythland-Swamp conflict, since most of it happened during Rivendell's seclusion and so they don't even have any accounts of it other than what has been acquired in the past few decades. Accounts that are, somewhat understandably, for the most part slanted towards the Mythlandic perspective. (It is Mythland that Xornoth is allied with and it is Mythland that writes things down while The Swamp seems to lean heavily towards oral histories.) They don't think they've heard anything about a disc before, that might be new.

Both Sausage and The Codfather are known for their chaotic natures. If this does escalate to war (as both have threatened multiple times in the past hour) they will both involve their allies. As much fun as it would be to go toe-to-toe with the King of Mezalea in the arena, if Xornoth has to deal with wartime logistics because of these two acting like elflings not yet out of the home, they will just walk off into the mountains and wait for the winter to take them.

Do not pretend such reluctance. I see the truth.

Xornoth turns a page.

"At this point," The Codfather snarls, leaning on the back of the sofa he is standing by, looking inches away from leaping across the library to strangle Sausage (or try to at least) regardless of Katherine's policy on unapproved violence, his speech has been steadily growing more formal as the debate raged on, but also with a lot more insults in a multitude of languages. (Which Sausage had been more than happy to return.) "I don't think I'd trust even a-" he makes a series of humming, clicking syllables that Xornoth recognizes as Oceanic, but does not understand "-from you lot!"

That, of all things, is what grinds the entire conversation to a halt. Even Sausage stops his mocking dance around the edge of the room to look at The Codfather in confusion. "A who now?"

Katherine is frowning in concentration, mouthing words to herself while she tries to translate. "An...in-law treaty?"

"You know," The Codfather waves a hand dismissively. "A Binding Agreement."

At least he's speaking Mythlandic again, a language Xornoth supposedly understands.

"No, we don't know," Katherine still looks confused by also speculative. "Please explain. What kind of binding exactly is this?"

The Codfather weaves his fingertips together so that the slight webbing between his fingers touches. It's the first time in a while he's had both hands away from his shoulder, where at least one has been hovering near his sword hilt almost the entire time, despite Katherine's glares. "It's a marriage treaty, between the royalty of the oppositions, bound in blood and salt, for peace and mutual gain."

His voice has gained a slight sing-song cadence to it, even through what is clearly a slightly stumbling translation, that Xornoth recognizes from their own anytime they are reciting something from their childhood lessons, even to this day. They've never been able to quite shake the "student voice."

You are still only a student. And you will be so long as you refuse to take what is rightfully ours.

"Oh!" Katherine's face lights up with recognition and she bounces on her toes, wings aflutter. "I read about that! It's an Oceanic thing!"

Oceanic, not Swamp. Interesting.

The Codfather tilts his head to the side, radiating bewilderment despite the mask completely obscuring his features. "Um...yeah? Wait, do land-folk not do those? At all?"

Both Sausage and Katherine shake their head and Katherine expands verbally, talking right over the Codfather's hushed 'oh.'

"Not between empires, not since the Worldspawn Treaty. It's not uncommon for different families within an empire to form alliance through marriage though."

Xornoth wisely stays silent, though they can't quite help but touch the enchanted jewel fastening their cape at the shoulder. Only Katherine notices, but she's the only one of present company who knows what it means anyway.

"Oh," The Codfather seems a bit taken aback. "I thought it was just that it hadn't happened recently, not that you didn't at all."

"No," Sausage looks intrigued. "We don't."

"We could though," Katherine says suddenly, looking ecstatic. "The treaty just rendered those kinds of alliances of limited use, it didn't forbid them. What about a marriage truce between The Wither Rose Alliance and The Swamp!"

All three of them stare at the faerie queen like she's crazy. (At least, Xornoth is assuming that's what The Codfather's emotions are.) Sausage's eyebrows alone are conveying enough skepticism for the whole room. The Codfather's tail swishes uneasily.

Like a fish on a hook.

Sausage latches onto the movement with a smirk. "Aw! Do you not want to marry me, Jimmy?"

"I would rather move to the desert," The Codfather says without hesitation. "Or the Nether."

"Maybe not the two of you," Katherine says, even her spiteful optimism clearly powerless against the reality of what the outcome of that would be. Wise of her. Xornoth doesn't trust them to not kill each other before they make it to the wedding night. If they even made it to the wedding itself. "We are trying to make peace, not break it irreparably. But the Wither Rose Alliance is the largest alliance. Surely something can be arranged. For a...Binding Agreement the two parties have to be of equal or near-equal standing, right?"

"Well yes, but-"

"So," she says triumphantly, cutting The Codfather off before he can even get started. "One of the other emperors?"

There is a moment of silence as they all contemplate, even Sausage looking more focused than usual.

They are going to hurt themselves, trying that hard to utilize what little intelligence they have.

"Fwhip?" Sausage eventually offers, somewhat unsure, but also clearly just trying for a reaction.

And he gets one; a loud, rattly, snarling hiss that, despite usually considering The Codfather's threat level somewhere between "negligible" and "non-existent", Xornoth find themself sitting up straighter and even has Sausage taking a step back, visibly startled. Deep in the corner of their mind that Xornoth does their best to ignore, a shudder of disquiet resonates for a moment before being cut off.

Katherine's eyes are wide and, seemingly without realizing it, she takes to the air slightly, hovering over the floor, set to evade any attacks. Xornoth realizes that their hand is on the hilt of their sword and slowly, so as not to draw attention, they withdraw it back to their book. Their wings stay mantled, primaries brushing against he walls of their alcove.

"Okay, not Fwhip," Katherine says hurriedly, slowly dropping back down to the floor and smoothing her skirt out in a nervous gesture she's had since she was small. Usually she does better at controlling herself. She'd had the unphased exterior trained into her well before Xornoth ever met her and, however amiable and relaxed she likes to appear, they know its always there beneath.

If we pinned her wings to the wall like a butterfly and made her watch, that would phase her.

Xornoth contemplates smashing the side of their head into the wall. Unconsciousness has about a 50/50 chance of bringing peace and quiet with it. Unfortunately, the hangings in this library nook are imported from Rivendell, several layers of thick woolen brocade. It probably wouldn't be a very effective attempt. And would have them looking crazy in front of two allies and a...not quite enemy. (Though if they don't sort this out that will probably be changing very soon.)

Let there be war, one step closer to our full power.

Katherine has moved on. "What about Gem?"

Sausage snorts a laugh but also looks a little terrified at the idea of even suggesting such a thing. Perhaps the wisest he's been all day, based off what Xornoth has gathered about what seems to amount to a neighbors' spat between him and The Codfather. (Albeit a neighbors spat with centuries of animosity behind it and that is now threatening war.)

The Codfather shakes his head a little frantically, the copper-beaded tassels on the side of the mask clinking against the trident slung across his back. "She's scary."

He seems to realize that he said that out loud and quickly scrambles like a fish suffocating on a rock to cover for it. "And, uh, Great Wizard isn't a title with a lot of..." He flounders a bit. "There could be a new Great Wizard tomorrow, if someone beat her. It has to be a more permanent title."

Personally, Xornoth finds the likelihood of anyone replacing Gemini Tay at any point during a mortal lifetime (and possibly longer) very, very unlikely. It takes a lot to outshine bringing the dragons back. But The Codfather is right. And not only is Gem scary, she's also mean. Which most people don't realize because she spends so much time keeping Fwhip and Sausage from getting themselves killed. Xornoth has been to enough Wither Rose meetings to fear her though. She would eat The Codfather alive.

They do also find themself a little bit impressed, they hadn't thought he had that level of awareness of the internal workings o the other kingdoms.

If we gutted him like a fish he'd squeal so nicely.

It's been a while since Xornoth turned a page. They turn a page.

"Pearl can't be that closely tied to any other ruler," Katherine keeps going. "Too many people across the Empires rely on their trade with her and it isn't fair to your people to risk their well-being that way."

Honestly, if it came to war, Xornoth is fairly certain that Pearl would fight to remain neutral. It would destroy her, being unable to help her friends. Rip that golden heart of hers right out of her chest and shred it in the dust, but so many people from all the lands depend on Helianthia's crops and herds to remain fed. And her sense of duty, to her own people and all the others would take precedence over her loyalty to her friends, and that would kill her swifter than any blade.

If the war did not destroy her lands, and her with them, first.

The page in their white-knuckled grip begins to tear on the edge.

Rip them all to pieces, give the farmer the fight she wants.

Rivendell would follow Helianthia, Xornoth acknowledges. They are not as selfless as Pearl. And even if they were, they could not condemn Rivendell to another harsh winter of starvation and death. They would stand to defend her against all comers (and there would be many who came, lured by the resources she guarded) both as a friend and as a political alliance. Rivendell is not back to the point of being able to sustain themselves, not if the winters continue to worsen the way they have been. Loathe as they are to admit it, even inside their own head where no one can hear.

Well, no one but-

Wheat fields burn so easily, all it would take is a single spark in the right place and all of Mythland would be in flames.

Carefully, carefully, Xornoth sets their book down on the table beside them and places their hands in their lap. Katherine will stop allowing them to borrow her books if they start spontaneously combusting them. Hopefully she doesn't notice the slightly singed cover.

"Joey?" Now it is Katherine who's skepticism is betrayed in her voice and Sausage actually snorts a laugh. All three of them look over at Xornoth, though The Codfather quickly looks away again.

Free us of the silly bird.

"Good luck with that," Sausage says, giggling, and waggles his eyebrows at Xornoth. They pretend to not see, giving their full attention to the tapestry on the wall beside them in a vain attempt at pretending that their painfully un-subtle affair is not the most gossiped about topic among the emperors at present.

This is an old one, probably gifted by their grandparents to the House Blossom Lady of the time. The knot-work symbol in the corner is one they are unfamiliar with, not the signature of any artisan from their lifetime.

"And Xornoth is already married," Katherine doesn't acknowledge Sausage's behavior, beyond an annoyed look, which is probably for the best.

The Codfather jerks his head sharply to the side, "and that's all the royals in your alliance." He sounds almost smug. "None of them work."

And that is when Xornoth makes what they will refer to for centuries to come as "The Mistake." They pick their book back up and affect disinterest as they impulsively decide to wipe the smug grin they are imagining off The Codfather's face. "There is my brother."

There is a long moment of silence. Xornoth eventually looks up and gets their first inkling of how badly they might have just messed up when they see the astonished expression on Sausage's face, and the slowly dawning delight on Katherine's. They stubbornly ignore the blank cod-face staring directly at them.

Why do you consistently choose to prove your incompetence.

"Your brother is alive?" Sausage says but is cut off by Katherine.

"Oh!" she says, bouncing on her toes, hands clasped under her chin. "That's perfect!"

--

Chapter Two [TBA]

Chapter Three [TBA]

[phoeebsbuffay]

Imagine “Star Wars” special edition: movies.

• Black, Red, Royal•

Imagine you and General Skywalker don’t get along at all, but for the sake of the Republic, you are forced to appear to work well together…Part I.

Warnings: based on “Red Blue Royal” movie.

Warnings 2: light/comfort reading…

***

Anakin’s POV.

He’s just landed to Coruscant, proud of his success in the recent mission that Obi-Wan delivered him. According to his perspective, there were not so many losses to count on, which means the war remains balanced… but favorably towards the Republic.

If he’s not being overly optimistic, as Obi-Wan often remarks, war might come to an end soon. An unnecessary conflict that every day seems to linger, but who is he if not a soldier fighting for peace?

Trying not to get himself too lost in his thoughts, specially when these seem to caught him in a complex web of contradictions where the Jedi Order is concerned, he rather focuses on the present. Overall because Obi-Wan is waiting for him.

“Ah, Anakin! I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again”, so the Master greets his former Padawan friendly.

Anakin smiles when placing a hand over his Master’s shoulder.

“So you’ve heard we won this battle?”, he speaks with a smug on his face.

“Yes, I have. How could I not? But don’t let success get to your head too soon for another mission waits”, so tells Obi-Wan in advance. “Do you remember princess Y/N of the planet Y/C?”

Not too soon his smile is wiped out of his face and a frown is seen forming over his eyebrows.

“…Yes. What about it?”

Ignoring the look on his pupil’s face, Obi-Wan proceeds to explain:

“Her planet is in great danger. It has come to our knowledge that Dooku is interested in getting that region’s resources to build a secret weapon we have yet to discover. The attacks have started and she has pledged help from Senate.”

“Couldn’t you send somebody else?”, he groans. “I’ve just returned from…”

“No, Anakin”, Obi-Wan heavily sighs as he cuts the other off. “You are the most experienced here and Ahsoka is in Mandalore. Besides, whatever has Lady H/N done to you to deserve such a swift of mood?”

“She is cocky, arrogant and…” Anakin shrugs her shoulders.

“And? And she didn’t flirt you back like Senator Padmé Amidala did?”, the redhaired Master raises his eyebrows, struggling to keep his amusement behind his eyes.

“It’s not about that”, Anakin retorts. “And whoever said Senator Padmé flirted back with me? Haven’t you heard she’s back together with that Senator Clovis?”

All of Obi-Wan’s efforts have no avail as he eventually chuckles.

“You seem to forget that we must not form any romantic attachments. Let them be and your broken heart will heal”, he smiles. “Can I count on you in safeguarding Lady Y/N?”

Anakin is not looking the happiest when he responds:

“Yes, Master. When have I ever refused you anything?”

***

• Your POV.

You look through the window, back to your colleagues in order to keep your displeasure away from their faces. Your eyes are glued in the landscape your planet provides: such a beautiful mixture of light purple skies with the green of fields and blue rivers cutting them in half, with different shapes of houses inhabited by your subjects.

Beneath the simplicity with which you and your ancestors have conducted the planet over centuries, there is a lot of richness that you try to protect, using it only for the common good. However, with the Clonic Wars, neutrality—once a wise move that had everyone agreed to for the sake of the planet—is twisted to aggression.

Count Dooku has been launching attacks since he found out by a spy—a traitor that you opted to exile instead of hang—that there are resources he could use to help the Separatists. But your army is not enough powerful to stop him. And now you wait for the Jedis.

“Madame, they are here”, your secretary’s voice breaks you from your thoughts.

“Who?”, you inquired, sounding distant from yourself, trying not to sound so defeated.

“The Jedi Master and his men”, so you are informed.

“Good”, you tell him. “Send them in.”

You straight the skirt of your dress, change your posture and turn around, gathering your ladies in waiting as the protocol dictates. Few members of the Privy Council are left at your presence before others are dismissed.

But when the doors open, you try not to show some disappointment when seeing Anakin Skywalker… next to General Rex.

“Greetings, my lords”, you welcome them once they are announced by a local herald. “I pray you have done a safe journey to planet Y/C?”

“Princess Y/N Y/LN”, the Jedi bows, a gesture followed by his general. “It was an easy journey, thank you for inquiring.”

“It took some time for the Senate to answer my appeals”, you cannot help yourself. “Dooku sent a few men and droids to take what’s not theirs by right.”

“Well, with all due respect, Madame, but we cannot be in two places at the same time”, Anakin responds with a scoff.

“Of course not, I don’t expect the Jedis bear such a trick”, you retort. “But doesn’t the Chancellor hold sufficient power and men to send aid to my planet? As far as I know we live in the same galaxy.”

Anakin narrows his eyes. Suddenly, tension is felt. But before he has the opportunity to respond, your prime-minister clears his throat and says:

“We all appreciate your efforts, General Skywalker. This war is wearing us out, do excuse us for looking tired. We just don’t know what to do anymore.”

“You are excused”, he says in greeted teeth. “But we are doing the best we can. I hope the princess can see that in long term.”

You glare at him. Of all the Jedis, should have been Anakin Skywalker the one sent by the Senate? Could things get any worse?!

***

•Anakin’s POV.

“How was it?”, Obi-Wan’s voice is heard throughout the hologram.

“Terrible, how else should it be? She’s proud and annoying, that’s what she is”, complains Anakin. “Has Ahsoka returned yet? Maybe she’s doing a better work here.”

“Anakin, I’ve expressively told you not to depart before the mission is complete. May I remind you that it’s your duty to the Jedi and an obligation to the Senate to help planet Y/C to stay safe from Dooku’s attack?”

“Yes, you may, Master.”

And Anakin turns off the hologram, hardly patient to hear any more scowls of Obi-Wan. Not too far from there, Rex clears his throat.

“Permission to speak, sir?”

“Permission granted, Rex. As if you need one”, Anakin chuckles.

“Well, as much as you might think the princess is difficult to deal with, she is doing what she can to keep it safe.” He hesitates, and Anakin knows there is more. Seeing the encouragement in his general’s face, he adds. “She’s growing unpopular in the planet because of it. If Lady Y/N doesn’t marry and produce children, she might lose the control of the crown her family has been holding for centuries.”

“That does seem a lot of pressure to be put on her arms”, Anakin concedes, albeit unwillingly. “But what am I supposed to do? I am a soldier, Rex. Obi-Wan should have come if diplomacy is what Lady Y/N desires.”

“We are in the middle of a war as you said yourself, sir. She needs thus a warrior”, adds Rex. “For the sake of Galaxy, we must not let her lose the crown… or else every effort to keep it from Dooku’s hands is going to be useless.”

“Very well”, grumbles the Jedi. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Rex nods his head respectfully, but Anakin swears he saw a small smile on his general’s lips.

***

• Your POV.

It’s earlier than usual. The palace is quiet, an indicator there is no one awake at such an hour. You don’t wait for your ladies, eager to dissipate the anxiety that has been growing in your heart. You dress a red gown this day and opt to leave your hair down for a while.

But what you don’t expect is to meet him too, already breaking his fast by himself at the kitchen table.

“Oh”, you exclaim, getting the Jedi out of your thoughts. “Up so soon, General?”

“I hope you don’t mind”, he says rather awkwardly when standing abruptly to bow.

“I don’t. And you don’t have to bow”, you tell him as you start looking for something to eat.

“You are the princess. I might get arrested for not following the protocol”, Anakin remarks grumpily.

You laugh sarcastically.

“Looks like you take me for a vixen that needs to be tamed”.

Something about how you speak it seems to make him quiet. Noticing it so, you turn and raise an eyebrow:

“What? Did I frighten you, General?”

“No. I am in no position for being rude.”

“On that we can agree.”

Another tension comes to scene, falling in awkward silence that hangs between the two of you. Not willing this to continue, though, you say:

“I think we didn’t start well.”

“Definitely not”, Anakin agrees. “I should have understood your position better.”

You raise your eyes and as you meet his, it seems for the first time you notice his irises are painted in a very deep shade of blue.

“Is that how a Jedi apologizes or Jedis don’t usually apologize?”, you tease him, pleased to see he’s actually able to smile.

Sitting in front of him as you begin to eat a bowl of cereals with milk, you act as his presence doesn’t affect you. Why should it? He’s just a man, a cocky, bold and arrogant man. It’s what you tell yourself.

Anakin reclines back in his chair, arms folded as he studies you.

“That depends to whom you ask this question. But you are not entirely different, are you, princess?”

You take a napkin carefully from your lips and wipe the bits of milk out of your mouth. As the confusion is stamped in you face, for you don’t seem to get where his grudge comes from, Anakin cannot help himself when saying:

“Well, let me refresh your memory: the day we dined together with other Senators and you snubbed me because I was not yet a Master.”

You glance at him, surprised. Is this why he’s been acting so pompously?

“Oh? This happened a few years ago!”

“So you don’t deny this happened?” Anakin asks you, rather impatiently.

At least you blush.

“Look… I had no idea… I…” You clear your throat, trying to get some time. The occasion he mentioned happened when your father was still alive and you were being presented to other diplomats, politicians and some Jedis. You may have been immature and behaved unkindly to some Padawans, as was the case with Anakin. “Nothing excuses my behavior, but I had no patience with that dinner. You may not believe in me, but I don’t like these festivities. I don’t belong in them.”

Anakin seems to weight your words and you find yourself anxious to have him believing in you.

“I mean it.”

“I know you do”, he softens. “But you are a princess. Wouldn’t you like to have all the attention?”

You smile at the male Jedi.

“There is only so little you know about me, General Skywalker.”

And that is how it starts.

***

• Anakin’s POV.

Princess Y/N is not as terrible as he’d come to think after the bad experience you both lived years ago in your late teens. Now he’s spending more time protecting you—all the whilst his men are fighting battles here and there at your planet—, he can see a side of you he never thought he’d see.

“Your jokes are terrible!”, he’s managed to be brought to laughters in one of these days you are at garden and you tell him a pun that came out of the blue. “My Maker, Lady Y/N! I’ve always thought you were a serious princess.”

As you, in turn, laugh at his remark, Anakin smiles. He notices your y/c hair, appreciating how braided your locks are in the fashion of your planet; not to mention the y/c that paints your eyes, seemingly sparkling every time they meet his blue ones.

His gaze lingers at your lips, when they open in a warm smile. What else is there to say? Oh yes, he’s always noticing the gowns you are wearing, particularly preferring the red with details in black that reinforce your curves.

But today you are dressing a silk blue gown with embroidery in white whose long sleeves exhibit your shoulders and some cleavage. Some part of the general’s thought leaves him to wonder what’s like to explore your skin with his hungry lips.

A thought that he naturally dissipates when you bring him back to life.

“You are staring too much, General”, you giggle. “What’s in your mind? My bad jokes or my bad temper?”

“Your bad temper is just an excuse to hide your bad jokes”, he teases you, before having the idea of lifting you up and tossing you over his shoulder, earning you some screams.

“Put me down, Anakin!”, you laugh out loud. “Come on!”

“So it’s Anakin now? Whatever happened to “General”? No titles?”, Anakin laughs back as he finally does what you ask him.

You two are surrounded by a long complex garden where privacy is yours. Anakin twirls you around as you suddenly dance with no music, eyes interlocked in a long gaze.

“There is no need to use titles now”, you smile at him, all the whilst a summer breeze threatens to mess with your curls. “We are friends, aren’t we?”

If this scene was told Anakin two months earlier, he’d laugh away. But the more he gets to know you, the real you, not the princess you ought to public display, the more he realizes he’d been wrong about you.

“I suppose we are now”, he chuckles lightly. “You are not entirely bad, Y/N Y/LN.”

You smirk at him.

“Neither are you, Anakin Skywalker.”

Getting lost in your eyes, Anakin seems to have found something in you…

***

• Your POV.

You don’t know how it happened. It just did. In one day you judged Anakin Skywalker as the proudest man of the galaxy, unbearable to stand. Now you cannot enjoy the idea of standing far from him.

“I was wondering if Master Skywalker may accompany me for a horseback riding”, you ask him nonchalantly after the usual meeting of a Wednesday morning. “It’s really sunny and we need a time to break.”

Anakin side smirks at you. You wish to understand more of the Jedi ways, but before you speak it loud, the prime ministers clears his throat and breaks the spell:

“With all due respect, my lady, but today we are expecting the arrival of the princes of our kingdoms. Though we may be in war, it is unwise to forget your duties.”

Your smile is wiped out of face, but you do not lose your composure as you retort:

“Don’t forget your place, prime minister. There is only one mistress here and no master. I too can command a planet like my ancestors!”

And just like that you storm out of the quarters, with Anakin not too far from you. The idea of being pressed to behave like a mare is irritating. Has someone pressed Duchess Satine of Mandalore to get married and produce sons? Certainly not. Why with you things would be different?

“Princess”, you hear the voice of Anakin calling you back, chilly. “Come here.”

You turn and he’s there for you. You could just throw yourself in his arms, but thinking to be inappropriate, you don’t.

“I’m sorry for my outburst”, you apologize as you take his hand and interlock with you.

“There is no need to apologize. I think what you did was the most correct. You are the mistress of your life. Never let anyone think you otherwise”, he tells you. “Come, let us get away from this palace for a moment.”

After a while riding in silence, enjoying the sun high in sky and listening to the birds singing, you turn your head. Before you open your mouth, Anakin speaks:

“I see you have a question to ask. Ask away.”

You put a grimace.

“You and your Jedi tricks. Why even doing so?”

He turns at you with those blue eyes.

“Because I want to hear it from you.”

You blush, but you cannot look away.

“It’s something I feel I need to know”, you apologize, somewhat disconcerted by your curiosity. “Did you love her?”

You don’t know why you feel the need to ask him such a personal question. Less so the fear of his answer. All so suddenly you wish you didn’t ask, but you must know.

An urge of your heart, silly it is, leads you to discover that one you fears the most. Before Anakin could find a way to tell you the truth, though, you panic.

You run away.

(To be continue)

[witchersmistress]

10 months later

@livesinfantasyland here we go darling

Summary: 10 months after Ann was attacked

trigger warnings: graphic shower sex, begging, daddy kink, praise kink, sass to the maximum setting, a softer side of august walker

word count: 2.8k

August’s POV

The afternoon light filtered into the room, the curtains blowing in a warm summer breeze. Her heart monitor beating in perfect rhythm. Never changing, never moving, always the same.  The same machine that was breathing for her. The hospital wanted me to pull the plug on her but I refused to let them do so. I had her moved to a rehabilitation centre.. She has been here for almost a year with no changes or improvements. That will not stop my quest as John Lark or stop me from believing she will come home one day. 

Running a comb through her long dark hair, something I cannot wait to do when she is up right and talking. Sighing slightly as I picked up her right hand and kissed each knuckle before placing it just above her heart. Moving my chair closer to her beside, i sat down and began to read her parts of my manifesto

“There has never been peace without first a great suffering, the greater the suffering, the greater the peace. As mankind is drawn to his self-destruction like a moth to the candle, the so-called defenders of peace – the church, the government, the law – work tirelessly to save humanity from itself. But, by averting disaster, they serve to delay a peace that can only come through an inevitable baptism of fire.”

I snorted as I imagined Ann’s reply to me “ Fire? Really couldn't you use soap and water to cleanse the earth” rolling my eyes i continued

“The suffering I bring you is not the beginning of the end. It is the beginning of a greater mutual understanding through common suffering. It is the first step towards the ultimate brotherhood of man. The suffering I bring you is the bridge to ultimate peace.

Today, mankind has been handed the opportunity to escape his destiny, an otherwise inevitable conclusion to a thousand years of intolerance and fear.

I call all rationalists who can stand and join in the struggle against the radical theists, all of which fall beneath a common umbrella of ideology. If we were to continue any further we would reach mythology and Aesop’s fables. When do we stop?”

“Aesop’s fables? Really Gus? A children's book, you could have thought of a better example, I don't know, maybe like Babe the Gallant Pig or Charlotte's Web even?! She threw her head back and laughed at that one knowing the look on my face was priceless. I looked over my shoulder to see she was indeed still sleeping. With a sigh I continued on reading to her and found some delight in the sassy comments she made in my head.

Ann’s pov

The slow methodical beeping drew me closer and closer to the surface. The familiar timber of August’s voice as he continued to read something. Opening my eyes I looked around the room, it was a soft yellow with big bay windows and a set of double doors, with white curtains blowing in a gentle breeze. Turn to the right, I saw August. His back was to me as he continued to read, he paused and chuckled to himself as he turned to the next page. I could feel tears escaping my eyes as I moved the hand off my chest and dropped it on his shoulder. He jumped and dropped the book, spinning in his chair. He brought my hand to his face and kissed it “ Oh my God Ann.”  kissing my hand repeatedly as he just stared at me. Pulling my hand away from him, I try to imitate writing. He looked at me as I did it again. He stood up and grabbed his book from the ground, flipping to a blank page and handing me a pen. 

It took a few moments for me to get my hand to work but with toddler-like handwriting I wrote out “ how long?” placing a hand on top of my head he looked at me “ Ann, it's been nearly a year, 10 months.” I looked around the room again. My heart started racing as I wrote the next question. “Julian?” he gave a heavy sigh with a sick and twisted smile “ Julian is dead '' the emotions that flooded through me were not that of sadness or grief but something sweeter and overwhelming. August’s blue eyes stared into mine. So much seemed to swirl within them as he kissed my hand and watched me. The weight of Julian lifted off my shoulders, it was the sweetest feeling. Freedom, that is what I was feeling as I let that emotion wash over me. It was light at first then hit me all at once, I was free, I was finally free. I let the tears fall as I finally tasted my long awaited freedom.

* 6 months later*

Ann’s pov 

My back hit the mats with a loud thud, I groaned as I rolled to my side and looked over at the devil who threw me down like a rag doll. August, he was smiling like the cat who ate the canary,  the arrogant bastard. I was going to take him down if it was the last thing that I do. Sitting up and glaring at him as he approached with his hand outstretched to help me up, but I smacked it away, I was being sassy, sue me. He chuckled and bent down to my level “ Little mouse” he said with a deep chuckle. I wrinkled my nose and stuck my tongue out at him. Wrapping my arms around his neck as if i intended to let him help me up, i pulled him closer to my chest, and waited for it, snaking a hand to his joggers, we stood up as i adjusted my shoulder and with a swift and hard yank on his joggers, i lodge my shoulder into his abdomen and flipped him over my shoulder. He landed on the ground with a satisfying thud. I quickly spun around and sat on his torso and pinned his hands to the mat with a victory whoop. The few guards that had been scattered around the gym gave me chuckles as I had a small victory dance. Dance isn't the right word, wiggle is more accurate as I wiggled on August chest.

He let out a low rumble of a laugh “ Very good little mouse, but i wouldn't get too cocky just yet” he said with a devilish smile. I cocked my head and gave him a puzzled look as he grabbed my hips and flipped us over so now I was pinned to the mat. Again. Fucking bastard. I growled my annoyance as he laughed and buried his face into my neck and wedged one of his muscular legs between my thighs, pressing his knee right against my aching core. I grinded myself on his leg without shame as I stared at him. He let out a sharp exhale, like he was a damn dragon. “ Oi oi” an irish accent shouted “ Get a room you bleeding perverts, nobody wants to see that” i laughed, august placed a quick kiss on my lips before rising to his feet pulling me with and jogged over to put eddie in a headlock as they wrestled. I sat on one of the benches and drank water watching the two grown men play like children. 

It took August nearly 8 weeks to leave the house and still be convinced I was safe. He still is paranoid, cameras in every room apart from the bathroom. Constant calls and texts that man is always worried about. I had to beg him to let me train but after mentioning that my smart ass mouth is what got me in trouble not my lack of ability to fight, he reluctantly agreed. Charles, Brandon and Levi stopped in at week 3. Charles looked like someone had beaten him half to death, he brought a few sunflowers as an apology. I haven't quite forgiven him yet but he lets me beat on him when we train so it's fair i suppose. 

August never really did tell me what they did to Julian. By the looks on his men's faces I was better off not knowing but, he died horribly and bloody that is pretty much a 100% guarantee. Making my way up the stairs and into the main part of the house, straight to our room, the ensuite shower was calling my name. Turning it on and watching steam billow out of the top as I rolled my sore muscles and stripped off my gym clothes. The hot water felt like heaven on my skin. Grabbing my lofa and lathering it with soap, washing my body when a voice interrupted me. “ Started without me little mouse, how rude” he teased as he stepped into the shower behind me. I rolled my eyes and handed the lofa over to him, he washed my back and shoulders, massaging them as he went. Breathing a sigh as I rolled my head back and dropped it on his large frame.

“ Tell me, mouse, what do you want?” I sighed looking at him through my wet lashes. “ I just want to be us, no distractions, no talk about my coma, none of it,” he kissed me on the top of the head. He spun me around to face him “ I have a business meeting to attend to, come with me” I nodded and pulled him in for a kiss. Spinning me in his arms, he pinned me to the cool shower wall.he grabbed my aching thighs and wrapped them around his waist. He grabbed my chin, tilting my face down, he captured my bottom lip with his teeth, sucking it into his mouth as he reached a hand into my wet hair, gripping my hair at the base of my skulls and pulled. I buckled my hips against him, feeling his thick erection swell against my thighs as I whimpered into his mouth. “ What does my pretty girl want?” Whining, I rocked my hips again and begged him with my eyes. He let out a low rumble, grabbing his thick erection he placed it at my slick entrance. 

He hummed at my desperate whimpers “ Beg me little mouse” leaning my head back and rolling my eyes as he gently pushed into me before pulling back out “ I don’t hear you begging” groaning “ please Daddy I’m begging you, please” he cocked an eyebrow at me, “ “You call that begging?” “Please,” I plead, as he kisses my neck.  “Please, August, please.”

 “Fuck, baby,” he sharply exhales. “That’s right. Say my name.” 

“August” I beg . He groans.

As I braced on his shoulders, he pulled back, rubbing the tip of his cock along my wet entrance. Up and down, over and over, toying with me. Teasing me. Driving me to the brink of insanity. “Please,” I eagerly beg, desperate to feel him. Without warning, August enters me with one, hard thrust. Stretching me wide as he buries himself to the hilt. “Fuck,” he bites out, getting a better grip on me as he secures his arms around my back.

 The inner walls of my core tighten and grip at his cock with each stroke, and my body jolts back from the hard force. Thrust, after thrust, after thrust, he fucks me without emotion. Plunging himself deeper, faster, he pushes his way inside of me repeatedly. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I hold onto him for dear life, spreading my legs wider so I can feel him more fully. 

  Roughly squeezing my ass, and bruising my skin, he pulls us away from the wall. Standing strong and tall, he bounces me on his thick, hard shaft. Adjusting to his size in this new position, my arms find their way around his neck. I cry out in ecstasy, grinding my clit against his pelvis, creating the perfect amount of friction. “Yes,” I whimper, rubbing myself against him. He brings me down harder each time, bucking his hips with each deliberate thrust, throwing me closer and closer to the edge. “Fuck,” he groans, slamming my back against the wall. Wincing from the pain, my legs lock tighter around his waist. I cry out, moaning louder, and he claims me ruthlessly. “Yes, baby. I want to hear you scream.” No longer able to hold myself back, I scream out with pleasure, letting go completely.

There’s the sound of skin smacking intermingled with moans of praise as he quickened his pace, pounding into me relentlessly. Crying out to him, whimpering, and gasping for air to fill my deprived lungs, I slip my hands fron his neck, tracing the muscles of his back. I dig my nails all the way down the flesh of his back before taking his firm ass in my hands. “Yes,” I cry out, throwing back my head, matching his merciless thrusts with my hips. “Oh, fuck, yes. Yes. Yes!” My eyes start to close as my climax builds, rapidly approaching. “Look at me,” he savagely orders, slamming into me. Hard. Harder. Even harder. I obey, staring desperately into the dark eyes. Something about this is so erotic, so twisted. Here I am, in the shower, getting railed by August Walker, the world's most dangerous man.

“Good girl,” he praises, squeezing my ass as he slams into me with urgency. “You’re such a good fucking girl.” “Yes,” I whimper, as he nuzzles his face into the crook of my neck, adjusts his angle, and sinks into me deeper. “God, yes!”

 “I want everyone in this house to know that you’re mine.” 

“Yes!” 

“Tell them, baby.”

 “I’m yours,”

 I breathlessly moan, rocking my hips to match his thrusts. 

“Yes!” 

“That’s right. Such a good little mouse. Bounce on daddy’s dick.” Tightly gripping his shoulders, I ride his pulsating cock, breathing in the heady scent of him. The seductive aroma washes over me, and my senses are heightened, sending me into a state of pure euphoria. He pulls me from the wall, easing me up and down on his thickness. “Fuck,” he grunts, bringing me down harder. “Just like that.” “Gus,” I moaned, right on the edge. “Come for me,” he urges. My orgasm rips through me, catching me completely off guard. The intensity is unimaginable. I’ve only ever gotten off with my vibrator, but August  hits all the right places. My back arches, pleasure consuming my body from my head to my toes. At this moment, nothing else matters. As he slowly moves within me, he grips me tighter, gaining back full control. Pure bliss takes over—earth-shattering sensations rockin through me like nothing I’ve ever felt in my life. This is what it’s supposed to feel like. “Fuck,” he breathes, finding his release. Easing my legs back on to the shower floor, leaning us against the wall. Grazing my fingertips to the curve of his hips, I pull him closer as his cum leaks down my thigh. “Now that, little mouse____” He firmly takes my jaw in his hand, tracing my lips with his thumb. “That is how you deserve to be fucked. Always.”

August’s POV

* the next day* 

Climbing on to the plane, Ann settled into her spot by the window, sliding into the seat across from her, settling in with her blanket and her newest romance book. Her eyes locking with mine, she smiled and blushed slightly as she picked up her book and began reading. Chuckling as I pull out my laptop and begin to work but never taking my eyes off of you. Just as we land you are out like a light. Handing off our stuff to my guards, I gently wake you “ Ann, sweet girl wake up” running a knuckle down your face, holding my breath as you slowly come to. I relive the first time all over again the night you fell asleep after your coma. I could not stop watching you. I didn't sleep for 12 hours to make sure you didn't slip away from me but you never did.

Opening your dark eyes and blinking into focus “ where are we?” you question as you straighten in your seat out stretching your arms like a cat lounging in the sun. I grabbed you little black flats and slipped them on before pulling you up to your feet. “ Let's go see shall we?” letting you walk ahead of me, down the stairs you looked up and stopped, gasping you covered your mouth as i wrapped my arms around you “ Isn't it wonderful?” i purred in your ear as a soft breeze blew as i tucked you into my jacket, “ it's wonderful” as you leaned into my chest, looking over the car waiting at the twilight dusk settling over Seine River as the golden lights of the eiffel tower began to glow their beautiful hue. Peeking down as you looked up as your eyes lit up and the stars reflected in your eyes “ Welcome home” kissing you softly under the setting sun.

[befemininenow]

Deconstructing the sissy in you (extra)

Let’s go back to the beginning of the tutorial. However, let’s amplify it a little more. You always had a thing for this thing called “feminization”, which involved forcing men into wearing feminine clothing or adopting feminine roles in an embarrassing manner. That kind of thing was your kink/fetish for a good while and imagined what would it be like if it happened for real. Little did you know it was a gateway to explore your sexuality.

You browse the web for TG captions and transformations as a way to spend some “me time”. All of a sudden, you see this post:

“Damn, she’s sexy!” you say out loud. You obviously want to be inside her body, but deep in your mind, you secretly want to be in her body. As in, you want to feel her soft skin, her boobs, her skirt, hair, you want to be her!

In no time, you start to see more pics like this:

Eventually, your feed begins to fill with captions like these...

...while some daring strangers fill your inbox with captions like these...

Soon enough, you start to get into female fashion, changed your way of words, became interested in men, and slowly incorporated your feminization in your public life. Those hypnos and captions have changed your thinking! It got to the point where you opened a Tumblr, started to make "sissy besties", and asked for tips on how to become more "feminine". It felt mutual, it felt exclusive, it felt like becoming a part of the Mean Girls!

But you wanted more. You wanted hypnosis that can destroy your "manhood". You wanted captions that affirmed your "sissy identity". You wanted hormones to grow boobs and ass. You wanted to become a woman at an instant!

But how? Desperately wanting to view more captions, you decide to find more of them on your search bar. You type "feminization captions" and the results are abundant! But as you scroll all the way down to a dead end, you find a picture of a sexy, blonde woman in red that catches your attention:

"OMG! She's so gorgeous! She's the type I want to become! I need to find out who she is!" Just as you click to the image, you're sent to a blog that you're somehow familiar and/or following. You try to find the image and as you keep on scrolling, you found it belongs to a certain blog: @befemininenow. ""Be feminine now?" This is it! This is what I need! Someone who can instantly change me into a feminine woman!"

But as you read the pinned post and the introduction greeting, you feel a little conflicted. You like feminization, but the blog doesn't cater to sissies. Yet, the captions feel so persuasive and alluring, you don't know where to start. You decide to go all the way back and finally found the one that seems the sexiest.

What was the caption that caught your attention?:

Of course the one with Lilly Roma and her tight, revealing, black suit! But instead of being a sissy caption, it's a caption that tells you to be a fellow sister! "Sister? Mmm... I... I like that. Better than sissy!"

You browse the blog and find more than enough caption to your taste:

Some were a dream, some were so sexual, some were unbelievable, and some... hit right at home.

Very few captions mention the word "sissy" and when they do, it's usually not as you expected it to be. That's because the blog is about embracing femininity instead of treating it as humiliating. You try to find if there are more blogs like hers and luckily for you, there's a bunch more...

Joanna's Journey, A Miss Inside, Every Alice, Gym Bunny Candie Hart, GGS-Trans-Inspo, and so much more!

It took a while for you to realize that some of those feminization blogs aren't like the rest, including sissy blogs like Sissypinkfashionfun. They may seem a bit unrealistic at times, maybe a little overboard with the "wipe masculinity" posts. But what you love about those blogs the most is that all of them have something in common: they are not ashamed of femininity, but rather embrace it as their own.

It all makes sense: as a kid, you wanted to be a ballerina:

Later on in life, you wanted to become a princess:

But now...

You just wish you can come out as your true self! Why be ashamed of being feminine? Why do you need to be punished for showing weakness? Why be subject to bullying for behaving a certain way? You don't really want to be a "sissy", but you want to be a girl. You love your feminine side.

But in order to move on from your "sissy phase", there is one step you would have to do:

That's right, girl! It means you have to come out. Whether you like it or not, it's the next step to your change. You can keep hiding in the closet, experiment with the "sissy lifestyle", and reblog feminization captions all you want. But as much as you hate to face reality, she is you. You're transgender. You're a woman inside, even if your current anatomy doesn't match it.

The latter sentence didn't discourage Mikaela Ville nor Angelick Poleth (girl in the next pic) from postponing transition. Look at them now. Don't you wish to want to be like them?

But to be sure of the change, to be sure of what you really want, how far will you go into your life change? Do you want just dress feminine, but still identify as a man? Maybe you identify as a different gender? Or do you want to go further and take hormones to turn into a woman?

Whatever you end up identifying as, know your identity and femininity are valid. Find your nearest gender support group, talk to doctors and therapists who can assist your gender change, and be very safe in today's environment. Remember, you are not a sissy, but a brave woman! Unlock the cages and let the lioness inside out!

(End of guides. Thank you for reading 'till the end!)

[t0ast-ghost]

S3 EP9 (The Tholian Web) like Spiderman

The thoughts I had on this episode are really long so read it below

Get on with it:

- “Starship Defiant” ?!? Like DS9 ?!?

- Ghost ship

- The suits are goofy I’m sorry

- I like their little name tags on the suits tho

- Chekov looks really small in the suit, his hair looks good though

- wow… that’s just a massacre.. that’s really dark for Star Trek

- uh oh warped pov shot

- SULU IN CHARGE OF THE BRIDGE YEAHHH

- Why’re the suits so sparkly

- Kirk staying behind and Spock requesting to stay instead

- “The defiant just vanished.” Spock immediately tries to take control of the transporter while McCoy is shocked for a second and then goes to do the same

- “There’s nothing out there to grab ahold of and bring in. When that ship went it must’ve taken the captain with it.” The look Spock and McCoy share

- GET SPOCK A CHAIR! Whys he always got to bend over to work at his desk. Or get him one of those standing desks, I think he’d either like the concept or find it completely impractical

- Chekov goes feral. So feral he pushes Spock, pushes Sulu in his chair, Scotty tries to restrain him, McCoy and Scotty try to restrain him, and then Spock comes in with the nerve pinch

- I can’t

- Sulu lays Chekov’s head down so gently 🥺

- Noticing McCoy’s pinky ring :)))

- The way that they look at each other. I can’t explain it (edit: I think I was reading too much into it but have the clip anyway)

- “Spock… are you sure that Jim is still alive?” This is so vulnerable for McCoy, he wants to be reassured, because who is more sure than Spock? The answer is that Spock is not completely sure but he’s not willing to give up on Jim holding out. They’re both in the difficult spot of needing to get away for the safety of the ship but also not being able to leave Jim.

- McCoy in short sleeve shirt :) (imagine picking up a hail and you see this)

- Oh my god what the fuck is that? Are they… space spiders?

- omg hiii Chapel hiii

- Fucking help him Christine! Oh okay she tranquillized him

- “Well keep trying, Mr Scott.” He’s so desperate

- his boots

- I love their talk over comms, where they’re both trying to keep their cool with one another. There’s something about it that I just love (it’s around 20:00)

- HOW DID MCCOY GET TO THE BRIDGE SO FAST

- The Tholian ship fuckin drifting away

- They’re so tired of dealing with each other at this point. It’s like when your social battery is just gone. Maybe I’m projecting.

- Spock is losing it. Jim is gone. McCoy is upset (more upset than angry which is unusual). And now there’s space webbing.

- OH they’re holding a funeral… woah..

- Spock looks over to McCoy at one point and McCoy looks away.

- “We must accept the fact- that Captain Kirk.. is no longer alive.” This is such a terrible way to put it. He can’t admit, or at least can’t say Kirk is dead. It’s so horrible.

- That moment was really good until someone started yelling

- I wanna see more Sulu and Uhura interactions. I think they’d be really good friends

- The eye contact between Spock and McCoy oh my heart

- don’t fight please

- McCoy just asking Spock why he chose to stay when the answer is so damn obvious, ‘it’s what Jim would do, he would stay for me.’ And the destroying the Tholian ship part? It’s because Spock will just blow shit up

- “Bones, Spock, since you are playing this tape we will assume that I am dead, and the tactical situation is critical, and both of you are locked in mortal combat.” They are in mortal combat but with each other.. oh sorry that’s probably what Kirk meant

- Kirk is just like, ‘be yourselves, get along, Spock’s in charge.’

- “you might find that he is capable of human insight, and human error.” As Kirk says this Spock’s mouth slightly falls open

- “…. Spock I uh.. I’m sorry.” Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry

- “It does hurt, doesn’t it?” “What would you have me say, Doctor?”

- I got Uhura jump scared

- THE CAPTAIN IN THE MIRROR LMAO

- THE TRANSPARENT KIRK JUST DISAPEARS. Doesn’t even cut away he just blinks out of existence right in engineering

- “In critical moments men sometimes see exactly what they wish to see.” “Do you suppose they’re seeing Jim because they’ve lost confidence in you?” Spock has to take a second after that one. He has to remind himself they’re trying to be friendly “I was merely stating a fact, doctor.”

- MCCOY SWIVELS THE CHAIR

- second McCoy apology of the episode

- “I understand, Doctor. I’m sure the captain would simply have said, ‘forget it, Bones.’” I thought they were gonna hug but no, McCoy’s just fainting. Can we talk about that line? This moment? The actual hurt in my heart. Spock is the only other one now who has called him Bones even if it was just quoting Kirk

- Kirk! The fuck are you doing?

- He’s mouthing Bones and Spock I think

- They finally get to have a drink together :)

- Chekov’s back baby!

- Well the ship disappeared and the screen went black. Imagine they just ended the episode like that?

- I think that Spock has a soft spot for Chekov

- I swear in some of these scenes where they just stare at each other, it was originally written that they share a passionate kiss.

- Kirk: And no problems between you?

Spock: None worth reporting, captain

Kirk: Try me

Spock: Hmmm.. only such minor disturbances as are inevitable when humans are involved

Kirk: Which humans, Mr Spock?

McCoy: Oh, he means that when humans become involved with Vulcans, Jim

Kirk: Ah yes, I understand

Chekov gives a little head shake at their antics. This is the most expressive Spock has been in awhile (picture is as he’s going ‘hmmm’)

- Why are they lying about seeing the orders? Do they just not want to admit they needed his help? Also Spock doesn’t fully lie here! He just mumbles off the end of his sentence. McCoy does most of the lying. They work so well together.

- McCoy goes to look at Kirk right at the end and sees Kirk looking at him so he quickly looks away.

I had so many thoughts on this one. Holy shit.

Masterpost

Episode written by Judy Burns and Chet Richards

[jogos-delulu-wife]

MKAY, SO— allow me to unleash my cum storm—

I was thinkin bout nsfw stuff with our malewife and I think it’s kind of a switch situation?? I can’t imagine him being sub completely, but at the same time he’s not a total top either—

BUT YO—

IMAGINE— JUST IMAGINE JOGO UNDER US?? LIKE, SHIVERING FROM OUR TOUCHES AND EVERYTHIN’?? He’ll probably avoid eye— LOL— contact too ‘cause of embarrassment and that “humans are trash” thing, omg. He totally loves it too I think, but he’ll literally NEVER agree to it…But can you force it out of Jogo by teasing the shit out of his body and stuff? MAYBE— YES EVEN—

AND IF WE’RE TALKIN’ BOUT A TOP JOGO— I— HHNNHHWHDDH— MOTHER OF GOOOOD—

BWAHAHAHA, and what do you think about this?? :3 ( I wanna hear your own headcannons, pookie— )

>:D & So it begins

Sub & Dom Head-cannon’s

Let me start this off- Curse cum is Black in color, deny it all you want but I’d imagine it to fit the aesthetic, it’s black, it’s a thicker texture, stickier, and if you toy with it long enough is like squishing gummies/marshmallows, it’s starts making a web texture and stretch’s and it’s messy in such lewd way 🤭

Jogo’s cum is hot- when he comes inside it’s almost comforting how warm it makes you feel- in the winter this man’s body keeps you warm on this outside and double stuffs you to keep you warm on the inside he’s the whole package 🥰

Man will burn his hand prints and finger prints into you if you beg or give him permission, he’s a curse but since your so dear to him he obviously cares for you and wants to take care of you regardless

Subby Male Wife

(Writing this from 1st Pov 🤭)

Kneeling at the edge of my bed i looked up at Jogo, his distorted expression, eye was forced shut but the tears on his faint lash line were visible, soft grunts through his clenched teeth, i went back down right hand pumping his cock while I played with his cocks small slit. The tip of my tongue rubbing against its head and hearing those strained grunts, i leaned forward taking more of his cock hearing how he started to grunt, i took his right hand in my left squeezing

“Cmon Jogo, one more time and I promise I’ll make you forget everything else and you’ll only feel so good.” I moved to kiss his thighs still pumping his cock, the sounds he made were egging me on getting me more desperate to feel him inside. Looking up at him, hd Barely lifted his head, i got the full view of his flushed face, the purple hue on his cheeks, the saliva shining his lips has he gasped, his hands ripping into my sheets.

“My desperate little boy,” i let go of his cock watching it spring up to smack against his abdomen, he gasped at the feeling hips bucking up trying to follow my hand.

“Y/n,” i smiled as his rough whisper crawling over him, he looked so small and corruptible, “Jogo” i cooed at him straddling his hips, guiding his hot hands against my thighs and up my sides, he moved them down to squeeze my thighs when i slowly started to sink into his cock, i watched his back arch, head forced back into my pillow with a clenched eye and grunting though clenched teeth, his finger tips burning against my skin in a painful way, running my hands up his chest and dragging my nails back down, i started grinding against him feeling his stuttering hips rub against my clit, the hot feeling in my pussy gave away he’d cum from just bottoming out, “cmon Jo, you can do better than that,”

I started to grind on him harder breathing heavier when he started to thrust, i guided his hot fingers to my clit, he rubbed his thumb in circles slowly catching the tip that sent shivers through my body, my orgasm starting to build while i kept bouncing on Jogo’s cock, his fingers leaving burning marks in my thighs as he begged eyes forces shut tears, nails marking my thighs, his hips thrusting to meet my bounces. His gasps sinful and shivering as he swallowed for air chest heaving while i started dragging my nails against his collarbone and chest

“Fuck, Jogo,” i leaned down against him my chest on his kissing him and fucking his cock, he whimpered hands moving up to my hips, pulling back while panting for air i tried to roll us over “Fuck me Jogo, i know you can fuck me good and feel me with your cum, fuck me raw and hard, cum inside me let me cum on your cock,” i grabbed him by the back of the head pulling him down to kiss him again, he started to thrust, slowly, the drag of his cock was amazing hiring every spot, i could feel the veins on his cock rubbing against my pussy spreading my juice all over his abdomen and cock, my thighs were getting sticky and soaked when he started to thrust harder, faster making my bed thud lightly against the wall

“I’m close, damn human,” he grunted, i could feel his body tremble, “shouldn’t feel this way for something so weak.” He grunted when i dug my nails into his shoulders “Don’t get so brave Jogo, your my little virgin, i took your virginity, if you don’t like my pussy that much,” i started to rake my nails down his back and he hissed “i can push you off and make you jerk off like a Sad little boy.” He burried his face in my neck biting down on my shoulder

“Touch me, make me cum first and I’ll let you cum inside, i won’t make you pull out and waste your cum on your hand.”

Instantly i felt Jogo shove his hand between us his feeling up my clit making e gasp and try to grind my clit against his hand “fuck it feels so good jo you’re doing so good don’t stop touching me please.” I could feel his cock twitching more when i started to praise him

It didn’t take long before i was cumming on Jogo’s cock, his hips were stuttering dick twitching and locked my legs around his hips “Cum inside me, cum inside me baby, you deserve it for being so good” i watched as he sat back, pulling my legs up and thrusting roughly causing the bed to rock harder hitting the wall, his cam hissing and with a breathy moan calling “Fuck, y…y/n” he kept panting hands burning their marks into my thighs, i watched when he pulled out the hot hot feeling inside of me, his cum was close to hurting, it was hot and sticky, black in color but made the perfect strands to mark up your pretty cunt and face, sticky hot black cum was slowly forcing it way out around His softening cock. I smiled at him, “Mm, wouldn’t it be cute if gave you a little jogo?”

Instantly I felt how his cock started to twitch again, “Let’s see how many more times you can be good and cum for me.”

Dom King

Head cannon- bc idk how I’m writing this out honestly-

Daddy Jogo- is a menace, he has a strong superiority thing, it sends shivers down you back when he side eyes you almost sneering-

Yes daddy- look down on while you have to look up at me I’ll be on my knees if it pleases you 🧎

Why drives him to dominate you, to prove humans are hardly reliable for anything, to put you in your place and prove you belong under him, really degrading and little bit of choking, marks up your body to prove how weak you are while filling you up cursing you for your human body that can’t take his seed ánd make a kid if you didn’t have such an abusable cursed technique

It’s his pleasure over yours, he makes your to edge and deny your orgasm until the very end, so you squirt all over his abdomen and cock, he calls you a “pathetic disgusting human,” before saying “getting carried away on my cock you made a mess all over me do something useful and clean up this mess.” Has you start licking his cock clean before shoving his cock into your mouth to the point your nose was pressed against his abdomen and you couldn’t help but moan while he used you, truthfully he seems so selfish, demanding and controlling but in the end 😔 Pussy’s never been more satisfied then when it’s been triple stuffed 2/3 different times by Jogo’s Black Hot and sticky seed, it’s a scene to behold when his cum is smeared on your thighs and cunt 🤭

———————————————————

“Ah, fuck, Jogo please, please please please i wanna cum I’m so close”

Jogo started to thrust harder, his balks slapping against your clit and mound, his hands grabbing your waist tight forcing you back against him with every thrust, his Cock was heavy and hot on your insides a shiver running down your back and eyes rolling when he angels his hips up rubbing against a spongy place deep inside, panting your arms gave out face into the pillow as you moaned out freely thinking your were gonna cum until you felt that addicting burn on your insides, your walls, cunt and thighs burning when Jogo pulled out unloading another round of cum on your body, your thighs and pussy connected to his cock and thighs by the thin strands of cum he’d coated your pussy in hours before, you felt the hot hand burning its way down your back and grabbing the back of your neck, “I’ve told you already, you can cum when i let you, but now you need to remember your place is under me, pleasing me, understanding that your useless unless i give you a purpose.”

You nodded shivering feeling your skin start to burn hotter under his hand eyes rolling back “Yes, yes sir, I’ll be good, I’ll be so good, please keep cumming inside me, I’ll do anything”

Jogo scoffed at your begs “Just proves humans can’t do anything right, so many men” he grinned pumping his cock with his free hand lining the head up to your entrance, “and you only want-“ he shoved in only stopping when his balls were pressed against your cunt, “my cock, if you humans weren’t so pathetic maybe you wouldn’t need a curse’s cock to make you cum, to make you beg and squirt, if a human man could make you scream and stuff you the way I do, you wouldn’t be under me letting me burn my hands into your skin stuffing your pussy with potent cum your just wasting, your pussy’s so tight it’s forcing my seed out and even trying to push my cock out but that’s not going to work.”

Jogo’s hands grabbed your waist, nails bitting your skin when he started to force you against his thrusts, stopping to flip you onto your back thumbing your clit throwing one of your legs over his shoulders spreading you open to his free hand pressed against your tummy then your womb feeling how his cock rubbed your insides, “his cock was twitching when your walls pulsed and clenched around him”

“If your body could take my seed you’d have a purpose, but your so weak, your cursed technique is even worse,” he kept thrusting leaning down to bit your neck teeth grazing and marking every inch of flesh he could bite, suck and burn, he wanted to grand you as his, “I can I can bee good i can give you a baby if you let me cum! Please!” You begins eyes tearing up, he pulled away looking at you before his warm slick tongue licked away your tills he whispered in your ear

“You? Give me a heir?” His teeth grazed below your ear, “Prove to me you can even carry my seed and I’ll swear on my child’s life I’ll give you the best orgasms of your life ever night during your pregnancy. If you can’t, I’ll just keep using you however i want.” You knew it was a lie, he’d never leave you unsatisfied no matter how many hours he edged and denied your orgasms, he always made you scream his name head thrown back digging your nails into his skin legs locked around his hips holding his cock and cum balls deep almost in your womb

“I WILL I PROMISE PELASE PLEASE CUM INSIDE LET ME CUM ON YOUR COCK” begging like a whore you started to hump again his thrusts for more friction before he puleld away pounding into your pussy, the wet slick bodies filled your ears and you moaned out stomach aching from the contraction of your muscles, nails digging into his forearm, thighs twitching and squeezing his waist when his hand smacked your clit before spreading your lips open spitting on your clit and rubbing fast circles with his fingers, his thrusts getting hard the bed started to slam against the wall, bed creaking like he was trying to fuck your womb instead of pussy, his hand on your clit heating up, his cock felt like it was getting hotter on your inside and he came the pressure of his cum pushing up again your cervix and g spot and your lifted your hips off the bed with a gasp and cry squirting shamelessly still trying to fuck yourself on his cock, his thrusts slowed as you started to come down from your orgasm,

“You humans always making a mess of things,” he pulled out grabbing a plug similar to the ones he kept in his ear plugging your cunt up before grabbing your hand pulling you up and to the edge of the bed where he stood, pulling your further your crumbled to your knees face getting smacked by his hard cock, his fist in your hair forcing your face against his cock and wet abdomen, “You should clean up your messes if you don’t want to be punished.”

Licking your juices off his abdomen and cock, sucking the head of his cock after he said you missed a spot and forced you to take only the head in your mouth and jerk the rest of him off, he was getting close and you were to dazed out from your orgasm to register when he folded you in half on the edge of the bed, shoving the head of his cock again your interest after pulling out your plug and letting his last load fill you up warm and full, the thin strands of black cum on your thighs stretched when he spread you open, burying his fingers in your cunt and pushing his spilling cum deeper into you before plugging you back up.

“Let’s see how many more times you get to cum this year.”

You didn’t tell Jogo, but 3 weeks later and keeping your cursed technique active, your reversed curse techniques and having Geto help you out, the fetus in your womb was officially 3 weeks, and here you laid on your bed, shaky thighs spread wide open, hands pressed against Jogo’s head while he sucked on your clit fingers knuckle deep, face covered in the juices of your past 2 orgasms while he was grinding against the bed, his free hand pressed firmly against your stomach in just over 9 months you’d have his child and without a doubt, he’d be filling you up with cum to give him another

🤍🤍🧡🩶🧡🤍🤍🧡🩶🧡🤍🤍🧡🩶🧡🤍🤍

I’m a little dummified but i tried 🥺 I’ll retry if y’all think it can be better 🤍 but Merry Early Christmas and Even Earlier Happy New Years 🥳🎉🎉

[galebrainrot2024]

Gale Seeking Godhood Part 6 Paths 2 & 3

Bear with me because after this part, paths 2 and 3 will diverge thus this one is shorter than usual. Hope you enjoy!

Gale POV

“See you soon.” Raphael's words spun in an endless web, muddling Gale’s mind. Now, more than ever, Gale was at a crossroads. What did Raphael mean when he said that celestial would quake? That he had presumed every possible outcome - that ambition was a delicious sin… and a dreadful weapon. Spewing useless nonsense, as always, Gale thought. 

Gale had come this far and he didn’t intend to let an insignificant fool of a devil dissuade him. When he went to sit, he noted the parchment that was left on his desk resting atop the Annuals of Karsus. He fingered the page, the paper heavier than expected. It read: 

It is a great paradox among wizards who so value the art of learning, that we believe ourselves ever cannier than the ones who came before. If envy is the disease of the artist, hubris, is that of the wizard. Though I fear my warning will fall on deaf ears, I will say it again: the closer, a wizard creeps to the domain of the divine, the closer oblivion creeps with him. 

I thought myself an equal to Mystra and devised a plan to make myself her equal. I would pluck one strand of Weave and contain it within an amulet I spent the better portion of the years devising. How regret instantly heaved itself upon my head. I was trapped within the amulet instantaneously, and passed around from collector to curio-hall for the better part of a millennium. Only now that I am freed, with barely the strength to hold my quill, can I leave this final warning as a testimony. 

Gale snorted and rolled his eyes. The drama of it all was starting to grate at his nerves. A wiser mind perhaps would have recognized the clear warnings, despite the message being delivered by a devil. A more sensible person may have heard the concerns of their loved ones at least if not that of the cambion. Gale did not realize that within Raphael’s words there was truth yet to be heeded. 

Gale sat at the desk, putting the parchment to the side and ran his fingers over The Annals of Karsus. Within these pages was the preamble to Netheril's downfall, committed to parchment by the very hand that wrought its destruction. He had gotten to know the pages intimately, perhaps more so than himself. 

As he felt the rough pages a memory returned to him, the moment that you and he entered the vaults at Sorceries Sundries, the moment you handed the book to him. He had been filled with awe, curiosity, and an intense need for the Crown when he held it in his hands. He allowed himself to fall into the memory.

“That devil Raphael was telling the truth. There is no doubt – the Crown of Karsus is what’s controlling the elder brain. And this – this is no mere journal. It contains the original plans for the crowns construction. His designs for godhood.”

He remembered you asking, “A design you can follow?” He tried to picture your face, tried to attune to the emotions that flashed before him, but that was lost to time. He was so enthralled by the possibility the crown offered he had paid little attention to your reaction. This realization sends a pang of regret through him as the memory unravels.

“Not from scratch – unless you happen to have several pounds of the purest Netherese metals in the pack of yours?” Gale had said cheekily, “What’s called for here is something altogether different. If we can collect the Crown’s setting, the three Netherstones, and with the correct invocation of certain spells and gestures, detailed in these notes… I think I could reforge it. It could be the best thing that ever happened to me.” Gale quickly amended, “To us. Just think of it… the power of the Gods in mortal hands at last. We’d be free of doctrine and dogma, confined only by the limits of our imaginations. We must discuss this further. Privately. Find me later and I will show you something truly divine.”

Gale held his head in his hands, his elbows resting on the desk at present. As the memory continued, he was wrought with the worry he should have done something different. Had you meant it? Had he pushed you too far, projecting his wishes onto you? Had he been so blind? His stomach churned as he thought of the moment he shared the outer planes with you, searching for your trust. Ensuring your belief in him. Declaring his love and devotion for you. 

“Few mortals ever glimpse what you’re about to see - but don’t be alarmed. I’m here with you. Open your eyes.” Gale remembered how your hands lithely pulled at the strings of the celestial planes, the vibrant and surreal colors swirling around you. How lovely you had looked as you both marveled at the abyss. Gale was beaming, his eyes fixed on you. 

“The outer plans… this is where the Gods dwell. Where they observe us from afar. Where they make play things of us. They would keep all of this from us – the power, the possibilities. They only want us to serve them, pray to them… and ultimately die for them. But what if we didn’t need them? What if we wielded their power instead and helped ourselves in all the ways they refused to. I could make that happen. I could make this illusion a reality, with you by my side.” He remembered holding your hands in his, how you both seemed to shake and buzz from the adrenaline of it all. How bewildered you appeared and how beautiful in the realms above. He had never been so in love with you. 

“Claim Godhood?” He remembered the uncertainty when you said this so he quickly reassured you.  

“I don’t want to join them, I want to better them. A Gods power paired with a mortal conscious, a mortal heart. The tadpoles, the orb - these threats to our existence – the gods could aid us if they wished, but instead they cower behind Ao. So let us act ourselves. With the power of the crown, any foe would be rendered impotent. Any obstacle would be dwarfed by our mite. I used to believe Mystra’s forgiveness was worth dying for. But I was wrong. You showed me just how much I have to live for.” Gale had pulled you closer, his brown eyes pleading you to understand. To accept him. “With you, I forget my goddess. I love you. Tell me you feel the same way. Tell me you want what I want. Please.”

His heart had sunk, your next words stung: “That power will corrupt you even if you can seize it.” 

Gale had insisted, “I won’t, I swear to you. It’s merely a tool – a means to an end. You told me once to choose you, the one who loved me. That’s what this is all about. Do you doubt me?” 

“If you believe this can be done.. then I believe in you.” Relief had flooded him then as you leaned in to kiss him, your lips crashing towards one another. Yet now, as he reminisced, your warning rang more clearly.

The power will corrupt you.

Gale scoffed, standing so abruptly that his chair nearly fell back. He felt betrayed - more than betrayed. He felt abandoned, left to lick his wounds like an animal despite sharing in that intimacy together. Despite you saying this is what you wanted, too. Did you have so little faith in him? The feeling was somehow worse than when Mystra cast him out. It felt more visceral. Human. 

Gale sighed, rubbing his face with his hand anxiously. He was second-guessing things. This was the trouble with being clever - he had to be right, probe all avenues, consider all possibilities. He knew when he overindulged in impulsivity the results were often catastrophic. Yet, when you walked this path beside him he was confident in his actions - confident seizing the power of the crown was in your best interests. 

Now, he was not so sure. 

He once thought himself someone of reasonably sound moral judgement, his entire purpose of reforging the crown to behold a new kind of God. A better God. As he sat alone in his study with nothing but his thoughts for company, he wondered whether or not he was making the right decision. At the precipice of Godhood and he was sweatier than a bugbears armpit. He had never felt more alone.

He chewed on his lip, mulling over the memories and over what Raphael said. All of it would be irrelevant if he couldn’t decode the final markings in the text and Raphael would eventually find the stones if he didn’t act. Sighing, he sat back down and opened the heavy book to try again. 

[eerie-night]

i always like stumbling across fic rec lists so i thought about compiling a list of some of my favorites and linking the tumblrs of the authors (but if i cant find them ill link twitter or ao3) bc theyre all fucking awesome

BSD

and all i loved, i loved alone- @featherxs

“An ability?”

— on the past, present, and future of one Edgar Allan Poe.

SOOOO GOOD!! its what originally got me so into bsd and its such a good reread too

(don’t) stop the rain- miniekooki

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke finds himself taking care of the Twain family after an unfortunate turn of events.

And he also finds himself considering Mark Twain as more than just an annoying prick.

(ALTERNATIVE TITLE: the domestication of akutagawa ryuunosuke)

i loveeeeeeeeee this and how it goes about describing the family its sooooooooo good

Haikyuu

as bright as a blackhole; and twice as dense- cereal_whore

“Kageyama’s being bullied,” Yamaguchi grits, expression steeled.

Tsukishima lowers his book quietly, and stares, eyes wide.

“As if he has enough social competence to realise he’s being bullied.”

“Tsukki, please.”

Meant to be 5 times Tsukishima accidentally and very reluctantly saved Kageyama from his own social ineptness, and one time Kageyama does the same for him, but we ran into problems bc OP can't count.

(or: everyone is srsly stressed over kageyamas existence, but kageyama, despite having the common sense of a Five Minute Crafts video, is like those buff himbos within the tsundere category. so he somehow ends up wholly unscathed throughout this shit, while everyone else doesnt)

tldr: kageyama lacks forethought, and everyone but him suffers the consequences of it.

i eat this shit up omg omg its great its funny and it makes my day better read it

but not for spring to well up- tookumade

Miya Brothers

Sellers & Buyers of Antiques & Curiosities

Suna Rintarou squints at the small sign attached to the front door of the brick shopfront.

He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting. Something flashier? More brass? The Miya brothers could do with a pot plant out the front. The shopfront has one single large window that’s covered by a plain white curtain, so maybe they could open that up and have some of their antiques and such on display so people get an idea of what they buy and sell. Maybe a paint job for the door, which is the most boring brown Suna has ever seen. There is nothing he can say about it—it’s not nice nor ugly, it’s just boring.

Or, maybe Suna could stop giving any more of a damn about this shopfront and just get his appointment over and done with.

After ending a relationship with a fiancé, Suna returns home and tries to heal from heartbreak. Here, he finds friends in the form of the Miya brothers, and learns patience, forgiveness, and what happiness means to him.

this sounds repetitive but…..SOOOOOOOO GOOOOOD i love the emotion and how it deals with sunas ex and like everything about this fic is gold

JJK

“To Chase”- @diggingupgrave

Megumi has never thanked the man who raised him.

god…no words except read it you will not regret it

FE3H

A Fair Day’s Work- featherhearted

“I may have some coffee in the place for you,” said Prime Minister Aegir. “Let me show you how much better I have become at brewing it to your taste.”

“If you insist,” said Minister Vestra but he sounded pleased. To Delarivier, who had literally made it her profession to attune herself to his tone (usually ranging from sort-of-murder-y to extremely-murder-y), Minister Vestra sounded very pleased indeed.

Ferdinand and Hubert's long-suffering aides figure out a way to work fewer hours.

im a whore for outsider povs and this one takes the cake and does laps around my brain when i try and sleep

TMA

a glass essay- fairbanks

Right out of university Jon's run out of time to run from the Web. The only way he knows to escape one domain is to give yourself to another, and he's always been good at being alone.

He really wasn't imagining the Lukas family would take him in at all, let alone arrange him to marry some smarmy ass named Peter Lukas.

yet again something to reread till you memorize every word and still cant get enough

now for authors that i recommend HIGHLY and a fic or two from them:

@blackkatmagic

i recommend everything shes written but my top favorites currently are:

Cor Cordium

Fox dies. He wakes up. And then things start getting weird.

its so so good and kats soooo good at characterization and descriptions and could prob make paint drying interesting

out of night (out of nothing)

It's the duty of the Temple Guard to keep the Sacred Spire, the Force nexus at the heart of the Temple. Feemor's always done his duty gladly, kept it safe, kept the light burning. Order 66 changes everything. Changes him. Changes the Spire, too.

Hevy, Cutup, and Droidbait are just caught in the currents and trying to make the most of their second chances, but an unstable Jedi and new powers don't make anything easier.

the concept is so cool and the execution is even better she could probably sell me air and id go crazy for it

trade your heart for bones to know

A week after an attack that nearly killed him and his son, Jaster Mereel finds Mostross dead on a battlefield. His killer is a Jedi, grievously wounded, who Jaster takes into his care. By Mandalorian tradition, Jon Antilles owes him a life-debt, and Jaster is cunning enough not to let such a thing slip away.

It's meant to be an entirely political arrangement. It doesn't stay that way for long.

not to sound like broken record but god this is fucking fabulous

i totally recommend checking out ALL her works but these were the first ones i thought of out of the ones that are currently updating

@x-authorship-x

she has written sooo many good fics im just going to recommend my favorite series and you can go from there

Eyes

Shisui is way too strong to have his eye taken by Danzo

He's the only one smart enough to master the simplest of techniques to legendary proportions

He was sweet and kind and, despite everything he'd seen and all the things he'd done, he wasn't afraid to hope. To dream for something better.

A series for Shisui

the characters, the plots, the descriptions all add up to something amazing

llamallamaduck

do yourself a favor and check her out, you will not regret it. unfortunately, i will restrain myself to only recommending one fic but DO check the rest out

With no root in the land —(To keep my branches green)

He is not a human and he is not a beast and he is not a creature, but he is. He is a being, then. A being that changes and learns and lives. He thinks his name is Ani.

this is the fic that i first read by llamallamaduck and its a really good introduction to how fucking amazing she is at doing crossovers and writing in general

i hope you enjoy these as much as i have :)