#The past is certainely alive in his head; never forgotten. But he also decides to focus on what more he can do for the present and future

[chirpos-pencil]

A conversation between Makoto and a peculiar old man

[noisynaia]

Dreaming of You

Chapter five: I Get High On Your Memory

summary: An otherwise depressing night takes a turn when a pair of warm brown eyes belonging to a charming stranger lock with yours. Years later, at a different time of your life, a certain pair of brown eyes find their way back into your life.

word count: 4.0k 

pairing: Javier Peña x afab!reader 

note: (18+ mdni) No use of (y/n). This has not been beta nor proof read and English is not my native language.

Can also be read on ao3

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…I get high on the memory that you sent through me

I get high remembering how good you feel

I deliberately think of you

And every little thing you do

I get aroused, high on the cloud whenever I want you…

Javier’s thoughts are all over the place as he leaves the bookstore. Of all the women his dad could have been talking about yesterday, he would never have guessed that it was going to be you. 

He is surprised that you even remember him, but he can’t help but feel glad that you do, because he certainly hasn’t forgotten you. He actually remembers you better than he probably should. He has relived—and gotten off—to the memory of you and your night together, multiple times after he returned to Colombia.    

It had been a good night, and of course he had found you very attractive, but there was something more to it—something about that brief encounter with you back in ’92 that had stuck with him. That night had been different; maybe it was because he was just Javi that night. He had been Agent Peña for so long at that point. But that night with you he was just Javi.

And now you live here in Laredo, married to Bruce fucking Price of all people, looking just as beautiful as he remembers you. Javier doesn’t know what to think about all this or if he even should think anything about it. After all, he doesn’t actually know you.

He does know Bruce, though. He went to school with him. They have never really been friends, and mostly ran in different crowds but they did use to have a few mutual friends. Javier has always found him to be a bit too annoying for his own good. Bruce was the type of guy who had everything handed to him on a silver platter. The kind of guy who never had to work for anything, just effortlessly gliding through life with that privileged grin. 

Javier shakes his head, pulling out a cigarette and his lighter, placing the filtered end of the cigarette between his lips. It’s too fucking early, but he suddenly feels desperate for a drink. He sighs at himself before cupping his hand around the unlit cigarette, flicking on the lighter as he sucks fire into the tobacco, letting the smoke escape through his nose with a deep sigh.

—

You roll into your driveway a little past noon, your shifts at the store are never long. You are still a little shell-shocked from your encounter with Javier this morning. You don’t know how you’re feeling, or even how you should be feeling, so you decide to try and not think about him, even though it is difficult.

You lock your car and rush inside, it’s boiling outside and you could really use something cold to drink. You pour yourself a tall glass of lemonade from the fridge before going outside again, but this time to the backyard patio, to drink your lemonade and have a smoke, the book you’re currently reading tucked under your arm. Bailey follows you and lays down at your feet. You smile at her, the heat always tiring her out and she soon starts to snore softly, creating a comforting background ambience.

You start reading, but you have a hard time concentrating. You keep reading the same paragraph over and over, and before long, you have put down your book. Instead, you look out over your backyard. You had no prior experience with gardening, and you are very proud of the few things you have managed to plant and kept alive. Your eyes land on the tall sunflowers that are gently nodding their big, yellow flowerheads in the mild wind. They are your pride and glory, and the first thing you knew you wanted to plant when you moved into the house. You have always loved sunflowers, but now all they do is remind you of Javier again.      

You sigh as you ash your cigarette, so deeply lost in your thoughts that you don’t hear the car pulling into your driveway or the front door opening. You jump a little in your seat as Bruce’s voice pulls you out of your daze as he steps out on the patio. It’s way too early for him to be home—he usually returns around five or six in the afternoon, and often comes back even later than that. You worry that something has happened, but he doesn’t look distressed in the slightest.

“Hey, honey,” he says as he walks over to you, planting a kiss on the top of your head. 

“Hey,” you reply, looking up at your husband. “You’re home early.”

“Yeah, but I will have to go back to the office again. We are having some problems with some of the associates in London, so I will have to stay late tonight. I will probably first get home after you have gone to bed, so I thought I would come home and have lunch with you, since I won’t be here for dinner. You haven’t eaten yet have you?” 

“Oh…” You are sad to hear that he has problems at work and that he has to stay late in the office, but it is not unusual; your husband seems to be constantly busy with work. “You should have called before you left. I could have gotten something ready for us,” you say, but he just shakes his head.

“Nah, I wanted to surprise you. Besides, I picked something up on the way—your favorite.”

You smile up at him; it is moments like this that you remind yourself that your life here in Laredo isn’t all that bad. “Sounds good,” you tell him with a smile. 

“Come on, let’s eat. I have about an hour before I need to drive back,” he says, reaching out his hand to help you up from the patio floor. 

You soon find yourself sitting around the dinner table, takeout boxes between the two of you as you eat your lunch.

“How’s your day been?” Bruce asks you as he pours himself some water. 

“Oh, you know, uneventful, like always,” you reply, feeling a knot in your stomach. Your day has not been as uneventful as you claim; you are once again reminded of your meeting with Javier, but you act as if nothing is amiss. It shouldn’t have been an eventful meeting; it’s only your silly mind that makes it into a bigger deal than it is.

“I feel like that’s always your answer,” Bruce says as he sets his water down.

“Well, my days just happen to be uneventful. What do you want me to say?” You say it casually, but you suddenly feel defensive. He knows you don’t have much going on here, and you really don’t know how he expects you to give him a different answer considering your life as it is. He is the one who always shuts down the idea of you getting a ‘real’ job.

You know your life isn’t exciting; after all, you are the one living it. You don’t want to admit it to him, but you are bored, and most of all, you are lonely. It is something you often try to hide from him, yet it’s a feeling you experience daily. You don’t get to see your husband much, and you don’t have any friends here, you’re still the outsider.

It is scary how slowly time passes when you’re feeling lonely. It feels like all you do these days—besides your few hours at the bookstore and your daily walks with Bailey—is sit at home, reading or listening to music, waiting for Bruce to come back home while you smoke too many cigarettes. just trying to keep the dark, gloomy feeling of loneliness at bay, but with little success.

This hour with him, which should be a nice little moment together, somehow managed to be twisted into you feeling sad again. You know that he didn’t have any bad intentions when he said what he said, but his words still manage to hurt you. That is the thing with Bruce: he often says things that hurt you, but then you will feel guilty for feeling hurt because you know that he never means to hurt you on purpose.   

“I don’t know…” he says before strategically filling his mouth with food, avoiding the need to come up with a better answer. The two of you continue eating in silence for a while after this. You hate how quickly the mood has changed; you still feel sad and slightly hurt but try to push through, forcing a smile onto your face.

“At least lunch was a nice surprise.” You break the silence. Bruce smiles immediately at your words, as if the tension from before had never happened.

“I’m glad,” he says, extending his hand over the table for you to take. You mentally sigh, but you take his hand nevertheless, trying your best to smile back at him.

“Listen, I promise I’ll get home early tomorrow, and then I’m taking you out to dinner. We’ll have a lovely evening, okay?” he says, giving your hand a little squeeze.

“Okay.” You respond. It does sound really nice with dinner, and now you’re feeling a twinge of guilt for getting upset. “I just… I just feel lonely, that’s all.” The familiar sting of tears threatens to spill as you admit this; you hate how weak your voice sounds, but it feels good to finally say it out loud, a few tears fall from your eyes and slip down your cheeks.

He squeezes your hand again. “Looks like I’ll have to fly over to get this problem fixed. That was actually what I wanted to tell you over lunch, but I promise I will try to be home more after I come back, okay?”

“Okay.” You nod, a little sad that he has to leave again so soon after you have admitted that you’re feeling lonely when you’re so much alone, but you understand it’s his job. Even though he could easily delegate it to someone else, he prefers to do it himself. You’ll take what you can get.

— 

Javier removes his dusty boots before stepping through the screen door and into the kitchen. He pours himself a glass of water and quickly downs it, setting the now-empty glass down on the counter before walking into the living room. He throws himself into one of the comfy armchairs with a sigh, rubbing his hands over his face before fishing out his lighter from his pocket. Absentmindedly, he starts to click it on and off, the little orange-blue flame disappearing and reappearing again and again. He has just finished his work on the ranch for the day, feeling tired and worn out.

He is  alone in the house; Chucho left in the morning for a fishing trip with some of his old buddies and won’t be back for a few days. It feels weird. Javier has never had a problem with being alone before, but Colombia must have changed him. The ranch house feels too big when it’s just him—nothing to distract him from his own thoughts now that the work for the day is done.

Now that he is alone, his thoughts get to run wild, and since he saw and talked to you yesterday, they keep circling back to you. His thoughts keep going back to your night together. The memory of how sweet and peaceful you had looked when he walked back into your bedroom and found you already asleep lingers in his mind. He remembers how badly he wanted to crawl into bed beside you and let sleep overtake him too.

But he had not done that. Instead, he sneaked out, leaving you without even a goodbye. It wasn’t that you didn’t deserve one—because you definitely did. It was just that he just didn’t have it in him. That night with you had been a little too good; he had enjoyed your conversations and your company a little too much. He would be back on a flight to Colombia only a week later, returning to being agent Peña, while the Javi who had been with you would be gone again.

So he had left, picked up his clothes from the floor, and got dressed quickly, but not before picking up your discarded dress and neatly folding the delicate fabric, placing it on the little table next to your dresser. And after that he had left your apartment to become a faint memory to you, but for some reason, he couldn’t do the same with you. You have stuck with him and refused to be forgotten.

You kept tormenting his mind. He figured it must stem from the fact that he had walked out without saying goodbye. Javier might have a reputation as a libertine skirt chaser, and that might also be true, but he was raised better than to leave in the middle of the night like that. 

He doesn’t think he has given anyone flowers since he was a kid, when he gave his mother flowers on Mother’s Day—unless you count a corsage at prom. But he had sent you flowers after that night. When he passed a flower shop and saw the bouquet of bright, beautiful sunflowers, he knew he had to get them for you. You didn’t deserve some pendejo like him walking out on you like that, and if sending you flowers could help his conscience and make him feel less like an asshole, that would be nice too. But most of all, he wanted to thank you for the nice night you had together. It had been a long time since he enjoyed a night so pleasant and carefree, and he honestly didn’t think he has had a better one since.

He runs a hand through his hair and sighs, he needs a distraction. In Colombia, he would have gotten himself laid, but he ain’t gonna do that here. Instead, he gets up and walks to the phone, dialing Alvaro’s number to hear if wants to meet him for a drink at El Toro instead.   

—

You are met with the cool night air as soon as you step out of the restaurant, making a cold shiver run over your bare arms and legs. The temperature has dropped significantly in the hours that have passed since you left home, and the over the knee-length slip dress you’re wearing is not doing much to warm you. 

Bruce takes your hand in his, and you begin to walk down the sidewalk to where he had parked the car a few blocks away. You would love it if Bruce offered you his blazer, but doing so doesn’t seem to cross his mind, nor does it seem like he even realizes that you are cold at all. For some reason, you don’t ask him for the jacket, even though you know he would give it to you if you did.

You wrap your free arm around your body in an attempt to warm yourself, trying not to make it too obvious that you’re cold. If only you had been a little smarter, you would have brought a cardigan or a jacket. However, it had been so hot earlier when you got ready that you hadn’t even given it a thought. Bruce begins talking about his upcoming business trip to London, but you aren’t really listening. Instead, you focus on the sound of your heels clicking on the concrete as you try to quicken your pace to make the chilly journey to the car go by faster. Unfortunately, you have little luck, as Bruce doesn’t seem to be in a hurry at all.

You keep your gaze fixated on the pavement, Bruce’s words going in through one ear and out the other as you get lost in your own thoughts. You feel a little bad for not listening to him, but you are tired, and most of what he is saying is just a repetition of things he has already told you at dinner anyway. You had really looked forward to this dinner; Bruce had made it sound like it would be a sort of apology for so often working late and an attempt to make you feel better after confessing that you are feeling lonely here in Laredo. However, it had not been like what you hoped for. He had kept talking about work, no matter how hard you tried to steer the conversation in another direction.

Your eyes focus more on the cracks and crevices in the concrete of the sidewalk than anything else until you hear a man’s voice calling out a little further down the street, making you look up. You immediately recognize the man as Alvaro, one of Bruce’s old friends; they used to play soccer together back in high school. 

You like Alvaro; he’s definitely one of Bruce’s friends that you like best, but it is his companion who catches your eye. Wearing a pair of dark blue jeans and the same burnt umber leather jacket he wore when you first met him, Javier…

“Price! What a pleasant surprise,” Alvaro exclaims, a smile spreading across his lips as you and Bruce approach the two men. “And the Mrs.,” he adds, offering you a warm smile as you and Bruce reach them. You smile back, trying to appear as normal as possible, but your heart suddenly feels like it is racing at a hundred miles a second.

Your stomach drops as Javier’s eyes meet yours. You feel your grip on Bruce’s hand loosening, and without even thinking about it, you step a little away from your husband, letting your hand slip out of his, and wrap your arms around yourself.

“Hey man. Long time no see,” Bruce says, clapping Alvaro on the upper arm companionably before turning to Javier. “And Peña! I thought I heard something about you coming back, it’s good to see you, man.” 

Javier tears his eyes away from you to look at Bruce. You remember how Javier had asked you to say hi to Bruce for him, but you hadn’t done it. It felt too weird to mention Javier to Bruce. 

“Yeah, you too,” Javier gives him a tight-lipped smile, one that doesn’t reach his eyes.

Bruce places a hand on your back, using his other hand to gesture toward the man standing before you. “This is my wife,” he says with a proud smile on his face. You don’t see his smile, though; you’re too dumbstruck at the moment. The feeling of Bruce’s hand on your back while Javier is standing in front of you feels strange. A nauseous wave of guilt spreads through your chest and stomach. You haven’t done anything wrong, but the dream you had about Javier last week is gnawing away at you. You know that you can’t control your dreams, yet you can’t shake the feeling of guilt. The memory of Javier’s touch lingers like an intrusive thought, plaguing you since he reentered your mind.

Bruce tells Javier your name, unaware that the other man already knows it. “This is Javier; we went to school together.” Bruce tells you, and Javier’s gaze shifts back to you. He extends his hand for you to shake, as if the two of you are meeting for the very first time.   

“Nice to meet you,” he says, the deep baritone of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. It is as if you’re hit by an electric shock when his big, warm and slightly calloused hand engulfs your smaller one.

“You too,” you answer. You think you manage to sound somewhat normal, despite feeling anything but. You let go of Javier’s hand, but the warm feeling of his touch lingers on your skin, your palm keeps tingling long after.  

“It’s actually perfect timing that we ran into you guys,” Alvaro says before ashing his cigarette. “I’m throwing a little party on the 22nd, you two should come.”    

“Ah, sorry man, sounds great, but I’ll be in England on the 22nd,” Bruce tells him, and they begin talking about that. You are only listening to their conversation with half an ear, feeling a little out of place between the three men. Javier, however, remains silent, his gaze lingering on you every now and then. You can feel his eyes on you, and it sends a strange tingle down your spine. It is first when you hear your name being spoken by Alvaro that you are being pulled out of the daze that Javier’s touch had sent you in.

“Sorry, I think I just got caught in my own thoughts there for a second,” you say, feeling embarrassed to have to admit that you weren’t listening, but Alvaro just smiles friendly at you.

“I just asked if you wouldn’t want to come anyway even if Bruce can’t make it.”

You truly appreciate Alvaro’s friendliness and his efforts to make you feel welcome, but you still know that you aren’t going to attend. He will probably be one of the few people you know there, and the two of you are only acquaintances at most. 

“It sounds nice, but I-” you begin, but you are interrupted by Bruce before you get to finish.

“That is a wonderful idea! You said you felt lonely, right? This will be a good way to make some friends, right, babe?” he says in a tone that is far too cheerful for someone who just openly admitted that their partner is feeling lonely. You know that he means well, but you feel your stomach drop and embarrassment wash over you. You had shared your feelings of loneliness with him in confidence, and even though you know it isn’t something to be ashamed of, you can’t help but feel embarrassed that he brought it up so casually in front of others. 

Both of the other men seem to sense your discomfort. Alvaro gives you a compassionate look, expressing sympathy more for Bruce’s clumsy words than for your situation, and you are very thankful for that. Javier, on the other hand, sends Bruce a vexed look, which your husband seems to miss completely.

“Well, you don’t have to decide now but it would be nice if you came. I promise that there will be cooler people there than us two knuckleheads,” Alvaro says to you, pointing between himself and Javier at the last part. This finally makes you break, Alvaro’s attempt at humor lightening the mood just enough for you to let out a small giggle. 

“I’ll think about it,” you promise Alvaro, smiling at him before stealing another glance at Javier.    

“Great,” Bruce says, completely unaware of how he had made you feel. “It was great to see you guys, but I have to get to the office early tomorrow, so we better get going.”

“Of course. We also can’t have your wife stand out here in the cold the whole night…” Javier says, and you can’t help but notice how his jaw tenses as he does.

“No, you’re right,” Bruce says, looking a little startled before looking back at you, finally noticing how you’re shivering, quickly slipping off his jacket to drape it over your shoulders. 

“Thank you,” you mumble to him, but your thanks goes more to Javier than your husband. 

“Don’t mention it, babe,” Bruce smiles at you, unaware of the stern look Javier is sending him. Bruce bids the two men goodbye before placing a hand on the small of your back. You sneak a quick glance at Javier, your eyes locking with his before you quickly avert your gaze again as Bruce begins to lead you down the sidewalk. 

But as you slide into the passenger seat of Bruce’s car and he starts the engine, you can’t help but steal one last glance in the side mirror at Javier, who is still standing on the sidewalk. It’s too dark, and he’s too far away for you to read the expression on his face as he watches the car drive away before he disappears into the bar with Alvaro.

The engine hums softly, a contrast to the adrenaline still pulsing through your veins.

“You alright?” Bruce asks, breaking your trance as he merges into traffic. You nod, forcing a smile to mask the turmoil lingering beneath the surface.

“Yeah, just… cold.” You wrap the jacket tighter around you, your gaze drifting out of the window to where the street lights are blurring past.

…High from the feeling you give me (high from the feeling you give me)

Even though you're not with me (though you're not with me)

Together, we made a memory (together, we made a memory)

What's wrong with a touch of ecstasy?...

I Get High, Freda Payne

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[reality-liver-n0]

This is going to be my worst post to date (in my opinion)

But after the anguish and turmoil that has hit Balalaika fans after her appearence in the latest chapter like her lack of muscle/strength that we know she unleashed on Rock, the fading of her scars, and other things I decided to investigate myself to see how much she changed.

The majority of these pictures are from the anime. Sad, I know, and hopefully once I find the direct panel from the manga that mirrors it I will edit or add more to this post.

I will start this by saying that Anime Balalaika is an absolute fucking unit. Like reviewing the pictures I realized that she's built like a very beautiful Russian tank and that is really the best description here.

Do you see what I mean? It's most likely the coat but still, it has to touch her shoulders to even drape.

Although, it depends on the scene as she can be like this too

Her shoulders are less defined and aren't quite as cut as the top ones but her muscle is there at least.

Above is the Virgin Rock as physical comparision

She's obviously fucking built way beyond his physique and she knows it. She corners him in or crosses her arms while his remain at his side as he tries to be unaffected. And honestly, kudos to him. He stood pretty strong in this scene and I think he knew he had to do that to even try and talk on her level.

I mean we've seen what happens when he doesn't. Disclaimers ahead, Rock is in for a rough ride. I on the other hand, laughed my ass off when I took these screenshots.

Also, here is what I personally think went through Balalaika's head in each scene and the progression of it.

% Anger Level - Annoyance

Jesus Christ, he's on this bullshit again. Sounds like one of those family dogs I keep having to put down.

% Anger Level - Frustrated

Maybe if I make it clear I'm pissed right now he'll have some sense left in him. If he says one more word I am going to make him the hood ornament for the car.

% Anger Level - Hostility

Just looking at this cigarerette is giving me an idea. I could just throw him like I could with this. Sooner or later he'll be stepped on; fire dying out.

% Anger Level - Rage

I'm certain his face will never change in his casket

With one strike I could gouge his eyes out. Maybe then he'll see justice.

You've sealed your fate Rock. Now you'll suffer the death of a true hero.

(Woohoo! 🎉You passed the slideshow and now I'll do my commetary. Here's a Boris photo as a reward.)

This is the face he wanted to make right when Rock started talking.

Anyway, I must have forgotten just how Balalaika threw Rock since I took those screenshots. I knew that she did it but somehow forgot that she did it with one arm. Or at least how much power she put into flinging him like a ragdoll. LIke she fucking lifted him in the air with one hand and with a single move had him on the hood in split seconds.

Here's a funny picture I caught mid-shot as well

His feet aren't touching the ground. He's fully straight as if he didn't have have a second to take it in, meanwhile his hands are just open and it's like he forgot he was even alive. No doubt, he had a vision that when Balalaika even reached for him that she just punted him to the afterlife.

Meanwhile, I cannot imagine the raw terror Revy must have felt seeing this happen.

She is scared as hell here. Keep in mind that this entire exchange she can't see Balalaika's face or Rock's. Both their backs are to her until Balalaika throws Rock. Still, I doubt that she really could've seen him past Balalaika's frame. Meanwhile, she's probabaly just processing that Balalaika's strong enough to do what she just did. Most likely she already knew she has a lot of physical power, I mean look at her, but this is the first time she's seen it and it happened to the worst person possible.

I can fully say that Balalaika is a fucking beast in hand-to-hand combat with the body to match it. And this is only focusing on her throwing Rock! She already snapped a neck by this point. Rock saw that and again, he does have some courage or maybe stupidity to even do this since he saw that with his own eyes.

Revy hasn't. And I don't think Rock told her, at least not until he knew they were back in Roanapur and safe. He was still traumatized by it too so chances are he is suffering some recurring nightmare of it. To top it off, this event alone was so visceral in his mind that he draws a direct comparaision to Chang, symbolizing how truly helpess he was.

With all that out of the way here isthe recent manga depiction of Balalaika

(no comment needed)

Here are the earlier depictions of her in the previous chapters. All the thanks to @crystallinee-waters and @progmanx for the posts concerning the chapters and the usual girlboss stuff 💅

Love you two for that

In conclusion the only explanation for this is that Chang used his CIA connnections (Eda) to tamper with the latest chapter to make himself look cooler. And I guess he had enough mercy to include Rock in that upgrade too, for whatever reason.

Hero of the chapter was definitely Le Majeur

Homegirl got sacraficed by Balalaika to the gays

Which will probabaly be another cursed post sometime in the future with the Holy Trinity (Balalaika, Revy and Le Majeur)

✊ They're staying strong and holding down the series' reperesentation of the ABC Mafia

(😔 not canonically tho only Le Majeur has officially come out, or got outed by her comrade. But then Revy saved her ass and definitely did not hear anything and now does not knows what Le Majeur really is.)

A homosexual 🌈

Okay. I think I'm finally done with this, and I went off the rails by the end but this post now exists so I will return to my secluded hole 🕳️

(Forgot to add buff Revy too, so here she is)

She can be both happy and mad but she's still jacked af (and silently judging you at all times because of your gayness)

[corujalesbica]

OK so I couldn't sleep last night. Cue-

Dabihawks number 1 hero x number 1 villain au

OK so basically au that takes place after the war is over. Endeavor is either dead or arrested, Shigarakis dead ( my poor smol boy :c ) and All for One is defeated. Cue Keigo is the number one hero and dabi scapes and decides to keep the League of Villains alive as its new leader, recruiting new members with the sole purpose of helping people who are still forgotten by society + being a chaotic little shit. So yeah he's the most wanted villain in Japan. Aaannnndddd

Theyre dating. And living together. Yeah.

They actually managed to get together a pretty good plan to reform hero society. Their actions, much as they seem random are always coordinated with the others with the goal of changing a quirkish society from the inside and from the outside.

They fell in love when Hawks was a spy and somehow sorted their shit out during the war. And you know what- Here's a quick scene on that.

*******

The wind is quiet tonight, but strong nevertheless. Hawks can always get a grip on these things, his feathers react to the weather quickly, staying glued to him with more force than necessary. Right now, he's in the eye of the storm, and that has absolutely nothing to do with the wind. Before him stands a man as broken as him, scars covering half of his ever healing ever hurting body, blue eyes meeting his with a piercing gaze. He wants answers, wants an explanation. Keigo wont give it to him.

"Kiss me" He says turning on his heels. He's not scared of this anymore. He won't hold back any longer.

"What ?" Dabi sounds angry, but Hawks knows he's just sad. Lonely.

"You heard me" Keigo takes a step forward "Kiss. Me." Dabi seems to consider it. Hawks is a traitor, but he already knew that. They are in opposite sides of a never ending war, and they have been from the moment they were born. The son of a villain who became a hero. The son of a hero who became a villain. And they fell in love like a knife strikes a pulsing heart ; certain and deadly. The moment seems to last forever, and when he finally decides to lean in for a kiss, Hawks puts a finger on his lips. "But do it like you mean it. Kiss me like you mean it, Touya."

"Touya Todoroki is dead." Dabi says it simply, matter of factly, still inches away from the blonde man. "Touya Todoroki," Hawks wraps his arm around the others neck, enlacing his fingers in white hair. "-is Dabi. Touya Todoroki was a broken kid, from what I am told. And Dabi is someone who wants revenge for that child. I want you to kiss me like neither and both. Love me not to forget from your past and not, so I will tell you secrets from the heroes afterward. Love me because you're you and I am me. Kiss me like you mean it. Just it. Nothing and no-one but you and me"

"And if you can't, I'll walk away. If you can't, then there's no reason to stay. If you can't-"

He loses his words, his breath, in Dabis mouth. And he can let go of the worry. Hawks can take that as a yes, as if there were no heroes and no villains, no one else in the world but the two of them. And Touya was kissing him because he meant it.

**********

I just needed that scene out of my head, it was living rent free there. Anyways, back to the au. Now to mislead any enemies from both sides they both decide to invent fake boyfriends. Dabi manages to hide his scars with LOTS of make up and idk if he can take out the staplers but for the sake of our story yes he can. So he hides his scars, puts on a ginger wig and pretends to be this nice little doctor after Hawks officially comes out as bisexual to the press.

As for Hawks,he pretends to be a drug dealer who travels to other countries a lot for business and for that reason is not that present for the leagues shenanigans, also he dresses in all black (he steals dabis clothes for this and he loves it. Dabi pretends to hate it but Hawks goes 'cmon babe is for the sake of the mission :) ' ) I can also imagine him putting on tons of eyeliner for this and most importantly he wears the same wig Dabi does when he pretends to be a doctor, because they find it funny that some people have the theory that 'doctor ' and 'drug dealer ' are the same person cheating on Hawks with Dabi and vice versa.

Anyways I love them and I want them to rule Japan and also rule the world and-

[unknownusernumber13]

Mortal Minds

This story was originally written based off the provided prompt below. I decided to continue that story because I fell in love with the characters, and couldn't stop thinking about how their story could possibly continue. I took the original post, made a few changes, and added to it so it could have a more complete beginning. Enjoy :)

Chapters will be posted in separate parts.

"A family has been trying and failing to kill you, an immortal, for many generations. In fact, it’s been going on for so long you forgot why they started hunting you in the first place."

~Introduction~

Have you ever felt like you had forgotten something important? Like you're missing a key part of yourself, and won't be fully complete until you remember what it is? Well, that's my whole life. I've spent a very long time trying to find my missing piece. And trust me, I've had plenty of time. But that time has been consumed by pain, loss, and a whole pile of unsavory treasures. Stuff like that tends to happen when you're immortal, like me.

Being alive as long as I have, you would think I would have made many mistakes, and you'd be right. In fact, my so called "crimes" can be seen throughout history, although most of them go unnoticed. You might also think I've made enough enemies to last multiple lifetimes. Sorry to disappoint, but I have had only a few small disagreements with people that had little impact on historical events.

For example... I was once banned from this small local pub, somewhere in the middle of someplace that probably goes by a completely different name by now, because I claimed the owner needed a shower. I only made the comment in the first place because he complained about business being slow. I thought paying better attention to his personal hygiene would bring back customers. Not exactly my brightest moment, but I was young.

At least, I think I was young.

But never mind that, not the point. Being literally thrown out the front door, I crashed into a fellow lone traveler and broke the priceless vase he was holding into a million pieces. Turns out he was running from the current form of law enforcement, and was captured because of me. Well, me, and my poor choice of words.

The stolen artifact was lost and, overtime, completely forgotten. It could have been labeled as "priceless" for many reasons, but I suppose it really didn't hold any true value after all.

The same can be said for me, and anything else I managed to accomplish in the past. In the end, I was also forgotten. I'm just another artifact that collects dust in the corner. I don't have any real value.

Basically, forgotten people of no worth don't often have friends. So, how could a ghost of the past have fierce enemies?

And now, I'm simply a corpse. A living proof of dead memories, my figure being the only reminder. Anyone who really bothered remembering me is gone, and I currently live in the shadows of those around me. No one remembers, and no one takes notice.

However, there's one particular group of people that always take notice, and they never forget. Many have died, but their words of hatred live on throughout generations. Their clear disliking of me has been the only certain fact I've always been able to rely on. Sometimes I think of them as being the only people who really know me. If they weren't constantly trying to take my head off, I might think of them as close friends. That, or the world's best stalkers. No matter where I go, or who I become, they're always there.

That leads us to tonight. A night that will prove to have great value.

[silentcrowsilentravens]

Please do the dimitrescu daughters reacting to a reader who was with a group of hunters that stormed the castle, but ends up finding themself unable to kill one of the daughters because it turns out they recognize her and were in a relationship with her before she ended up in miranda's clutches.

This is such an interesting prompt. Apologies for Dani's being a bit shorter than Bela's and Cass'.

Bela Dimitrescu, Cassandra Dimitrescu, and Daniela Dimitrescu reacting to a former s/o entering Castle Dimitrescu with hunters, only to find themselves unable to kill them.

(Gender neutral).

Warnings: blood, violence/injury, and death.

Masterlists here!

Bela Dimitrescu

There lives a father and his son not far from you. The son, Corvus, is a close friend of yours and you know his father well. 

A third family member used to live with them, but she ended up at Castle Dimitrescu. Utterly determined for her to return home, Corvus ended up sneaking around outside of the estate the other day, something which you only found out after he showed up on your doorstep in the middle of the night.

Frantic, Corvus shook you by your shoulders and told you that he had found a good way to sneak inside, that he had also heard a very familiar voice from behind a window. He told you that it sounded like your lady.

Your lady had vanished a long time ago. The voice had been muffled, but he was almost certain. 

Was it foolish to break into Castle Dimitrescu based on somewhat flimsy evidence? Perhaps. But even after the months and years that had passed, not one went by where you didn’t think of your lady and miss her. Although the chances were slim to none, you never stopped clinging to hope that she was still alive out there somewhere.

And when you heard the claim that she might be? You decided that you have to find out for yourself.

At the moment, you’re alone, separated from those you arrived with. Corvus’ father has lent you a gun. The sun has set hours ago and the castle feels empty, your footfalls feel far too loud despite your efforts to keep quiet. 

A door creaks open somewhere behind you.

A fly buzzes past your head. Two flies. Three.  

You whip around, raising your weapon. 

You’re…

You’re looking at the face of your lady. You feel as though you’ve forgotten how to breathe. 

Gone are the soft brown of her eyes and locks, though. Instead, there’s piercing gold staring you down with vicious glee and flaxen tresses falling past your lady’s shoulders, part of which has been shorn off, better displaying the long scar going from her hairline towards the back of her skull.

“Such a handsome face…” 

You tentatively utter her name, but she doesn’t react to it. 

Your lady doesn’t even seem to recognize you. 

Her lips split into a grin. There’s blood all over her face that you have the feeling isn’t hers. “I can’t wait to cut it open.”

Suddenly, your lady dissolves into a swarm of bugs. Your brain doesn’t even get the chance to begin to process that before she’s reforming in front of you and there’s a flash of metal.

You’re surprised by the speed at which you manage to jerk back. The blade of a sickle grazes the bridge of your nose. 

The scent of fresh blood hits Bela. It’s delicious. You look a bit funny, eyes wide, red slowly dripping down your face, and your finger still not even on the trigger of your gun. 

As Bela begins to pursue you, you still don’t aim your weapon at her. You’re barely even fighting against her at all. How strange. Even those who think they don’t have a chance at surviving still try. It’s no fun if you don’t put in any effort!

You keep repeating a name. Bela has no clue who you’re referring to, but if it’s another intruder then they'll be dealt with too.

Eventually, after acquiring more injuries, after being unable to get Bela off your tail, you do fire a round. A few rounds. A murmured apology follows each one.

But of course, Bela remains unharmed.

Or at least, she does until you accidentally shatter a window.

Bela tries harder to kill you. You keep shooting until she collapses. You're not going to kill her. You wouldn't be able to.

Instead, you wrap Bela in your jacket and get her someplace warmer. You’re not sure what exactly the cold has done to Bela, but you hope it isn’t permanent. 

When Bela wakes, she's in front of a fireplace. You're sitting a decent distance away with a gun in one hand and her sickle in the other.

She doesn't need her weapon to start the chase again, but she won't. Bela needs to know what your deal is now.

First, you break in. Then, you get the opportunity to kill her and don't. And then, you stick around afterward. What gives?

"I came here thinking you might be in danger. I was wrong, it seems."

"I have no desire to kill you. I didn't even wish to harm you."

"I wanted to make sure you opened your eyes again."

All of that just leaves Bela with more questions.

You tell her about the history you both share.

Bela remembers not the life she used to live, nor does she care to.

However, she will admit, you do still intrigue her. 

If you wish to live, you need to leave before Bela's mother or sisters find you, though.

A few days later, you wake to a letter slipped under the door. It bears a wax seal with the Dimitrescu family crest. It seems that Bela has interest in continued correspondence with you.

Cassandra Dimitrescu

You stagger around the corner, a hand on the bleeding bite wound on your neck. You're getting closer to the main source of the commotion.

The thing you're about to do is decidedly not what you came here to do. In fact, it's quite literally the opposite.

You've just managed to get away from one of your lady's sisters. You believe she is now called Daniela. You're certain that the only reason she let you run off is that she was too surprised by you turning on the hunters you stormed Castle Dimitrescu with.

You had been given a lot of Lei to come here and try and take out its noblewomen with these people. You were willing to for such a high amount. That is, until you realized who Lady Dimitrescu's daughters are. 

It hurts that your lady’s sisters don’t remember you (maybe your lady—Cassandra is her name now—still will. You can hold onto the hope for now).

There is a clear risk that one of them might gut you, but you’re still intent on making sure none of them die. 

Anybody who isn't backing down in the face of your threats is becoming well acquainted with one or more of the bullets in your gun.

The hunters can have their Lei back. They can try and crawl their way back to freedom if they wish, but they are not hurting Cassandra or her sisters. 

Finally, you see her. Dark hair spilling out from under the hood of a cloak, a toothy grin accompanying loud cackling as Cassandra wretches a hunter’s leg out from under them with her sickle. 

The floors are becoming redder by the minute, and quite a few of the hunters are laying on it. Your assistance clearly isn’t needed. 

But then someone throws an explosive.

There’s a loud bang, a flash of light, smoke, and a new hole in the wall that’s letting the harsh winter winds rush in. 

When the cold hits Cassandra, a bunch of blow flies leave her in a burst. The attacks of the hunters actually start to hit her. 

Perhaps you should step in.

Your intervention ensures that hunters keep getting taken down even as Cassandra starts to struggle. 

It doesn’t take long for her to notice what you’re doing with the multiple cries along the lines of, “You’re supposed to be on our side! What are you doing?!”

What are you doing, Cassandra wonders. And she voices that. 

“Helping you,” is the only reply you give. That much is obvious. Cassandra wants to know why! 

Eventually, you both reach a point where you’re just standing there, hunters either unconscious or dead at your feet. 

You place your gun down on the floor between you. Cassandra is giving you the most intense scrutinizing glare you’ve ever been on the receiving end of. She’s standing as far away from the hollow in the wall as she can without leaving the room. 

“Are you alright? Do you need to get out of here?” 

Cassandra gives you no answer, only tilts her downturned head up as if she’s truly daring you to try something. Anything. What’s wrong with you? Why do you sound so genuine? Why don’t you seem intimidated at all? 

“There! That’s the one!!” Lady Daniela all but yells. 

There’s a minute pause before Lady Bela’s voice also carries into the room. “Cassandra?”

You turn, finding both sisters entering with their sickles ready. 

“I propose,” Cassandra says, “that we keep this one around a little bit longer, sisters.”

She’s now determined to find the true root of your intentions. She’s never been so fascinated by a mere human before. 

When the sisters drag you down to a cell, you put up no fight. 

You spend who knows how long eyeing the dried blood and old-fashioned torture devices occupying the area past the bars. After a while, Cassandra makes an appearance. 

She drills you with many, many questions. You answer each one truthfully and let it be known that you recognize her from before she began living at the castle.

Alright. Cassandra wasn’t expecting that. Most of the time, she forgets that she ever lived a life different from her current one.

The more words you two exchange, the clearer it becomes you have an easy time understanding and reading Cassandra and most people don’t. It makes sense, she supposes, and it both scares her and draws her to you. 

“A little bit longer” ends up being more than that. Cassandra lies to her mother’s face in order to allow you freedom to roam. She tells Alcina that she found you during a hunt, not that you were there during the latest break in. She had to plead with her sisters (her pride is still healing) to corroborate the story. 

There is no doubt about it, Cassandra is growing truly fond of you. She doesn’t care whether it’s influenced by what happened in the past or not.

Daniela Dimitrescu

You’re entirely unsure how you allowed yourself to be roped into this. You don’t even know most of these people! And if there’s one thing you don’t want, it’s to incur the wrath of one the lords. Especially Lady Dimitrescu. 

Your hands are so clammy that you worry about your knife slipping from your grasp. Splitting up was an awful idea, but nobody listened to you. 

You’re going to die in this castle if you end up encountering the countess again. You're sure of it. There are rumors that she drinks human blood, that she’s supposedly killed an innumerable amount of her staff, hence why there are always positions open. And after what you witnessed a mere five minutes ago? You're certain they aren't simply rumors. Yet again, you try in vain to wipe the blood off of your shirt.

Are you truly expected to take her down? With a small blade?

Forget this. You’re finding the nearest exit and leaving. 

You locate a window. Good enough. After putting your weapon away, you prepare to open it and climb out.

You don’t get to, though. There’s buzzing from behind you. Buzzing and footsteps. 

You go to reach for your knife again, but your fingers never end up wrapping around the handle.

“Looking for something?” a voice, one which you haven’t heard in so long, practically purrs into your ear, freezing you in place. “Or maybe, someone…?” 

You utter the name of your lady. She vanished many, many nights ago. You had thought her dead!

“Hmm…”

You turn around. Your lady stands before you. She wears a smile you have seen directed at you countless times, but it’s quite a bit bloodier. The alarm bells are going off in your head but you still don’t try to run. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone with that name before.” Daniela pushes you and you fall to the floor. Her sickle leaves its sheath and enters her hand. It’s funny how big your eyes get when you see it. The sweet scent of terror you're oozing becomes that much stronger. 

“I-it’s you. Don’t you know? You’re—We were—Don’t you recognize me?” You're barely coherent.

Daniela leans closer to your face, staring down at you and putting on an exaggerated display of thinking. “No.” 

You look as though you’ve been punched in the face, and you start pleading for Daniela to remember a relationship the two of you supposedly had. 

Now, Daniela has been in her fair share of relationships. None have lasted as long as what you’re describing. If they had, she’s sure she’d be able to recall. Or maybe she wouldn’t… Bela did always chastise her for her forgetfulness. 

Either way, you are exactly her type. Such a lovely face. And you’re making yourself sound pretty romantic…

You’re still rambling as Daniela very briefly contemplates what she’s about to do. She shuts you up by placing a finger over your lips.

“You know, if you apologize for breaking in here,” the flat side of Daniela’s sickle kisses your cheek, leaving a splotch of fresh blood behind, “and you tell me how many man-things you came here with, I'd be willing to let you show me all these good times you’re talking about. What do you say?” 

You swallow.

[dracowars]

LOVED YOUR TOM RIDDLE. Can I please request a arranged marriage au where yn is in love with him but he hates her so when she decides to let him go or someone else wants to marry her, Tom finally realises he’s in love with her. happ ending :))))

my heart belongs to you | tom riddle

pairing: tom x black!reader

word count: 3,3k

summary: where tom and y/n are in an arranged marriage

a/n: i'm so sorry for being so inactive recently, uni is taking its toll on me.. i had to do a bit of research for this one and also tom is a pureblood here!

warnings: toxic relationship, violence

universe: harry potter

“Get out of my sight, will you?”, he angrily snaps at you out of nowhere, for the third time already on this still very early day. Furiously, he stomps past you, pushing you to the side harshly, the filled glasses on your tray swaying dangerously. Knowing that you should just leave him alone, you stand there completely frozen at the door, still feeling the breeze on your skin after he stormed past you.

The glasses clink on the serving tray as you try to keep your trembling hands under control, but you terribly fail while tears shoot into your eyes. A lump forms in your throat and you gasp in desperation, losing your composure after hearing the front door slam shut.

Slowly, you slump down and therefore with a loud rattle let happen what could have been foreseen already: a thousand shattered pieces of glass scattered across the floor around you while you cower against the wall, your elegant dress pulled over your knees, your forehead leaning against it. Heavy sobs rock through your body and tears find their way down your cheeks, dripping from your chin onto the expensive fabric of your dress.

You just wanted to spend some time with him. Together, in the house of your parents, who went on a daily trip with their close friends early in the morning, all part of the most notorious popular pureblood families in the wizarding world – the Nott’s, the Macmillan’s, the Malfoy’s, the Lestrange’s. And if his parents were still alive, probably with the Riddle’s as well.

This is primarily the reason why you even are in this position right now; crying and huddled in the living room because your fiancé hates you profoundly.

After graduating from Hogwarts last year, the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, you, descendant of the pureblood Black family, got engaged to Tom Marvolo Riddle, the last living heir of the Riddle’s. He would offer you a good future, they said, and you would never have to worry about anything again.

But nobody knows that in reality, your own beloved fiancé really does not want to have anything to do with you. He does not even want to stay in the same room as you.

You can’t explain why he acts like this towards you. You do not know why he harbors such an abysmal hatred for you and any clear-headed, rational person would have done something about it long ago. Unfortunately for you, you feel the exact opposite for him.

Your heart belongs to him and only to him.

You have liked him since you first met him at Hogwarts, back in 1938, when the two of you were sorted into the Slytherin house. This initial friendly liking has quickly evolved into something more than that over the years and lead you to where you are now, at a point where you would have never seen yourself back then.

You have already tried everything to convince him that you are not as bad as he seems to think. Every morning you bring him his breakfast, you give him everything he needs. Even when you were still at Hogwarts, you always looked after him, finished his homework for him when he was too busy to do it by himself, and helped him pass all of his exams.

And not once did you hear a thank you. Not then and not now either.

Slowly gathering your thoughts together again, you rub the long sleeves of your velvet dress over your damp face, wiping away all of your tears before you get up on shaky legs and begin to clean up the mess that you have created. After you went back to the kitchen with the broken pieces and some injuries on your hands, your gaze longingly slides out the window.

Outside, the sun stands high over the magnificent garden of the mansion, making the clear water in the fountain shimmer in its bright light. A gentle breeze blows through the air and rustles through the perfectly cut trees that line a small path through the garden.

The loud, excited voices that suddenly roar through the house snap you out of your daydream and you quickly wipe the blood from your fingers before you step into the huge marble entrance hall. You arrive at the front door just in time to open it for your parents, who, to your surprise, did not come back alone. You are amazed to find not too familiar faces in front of you as they climb up the stairs to the door where you are still standing.

“And that has to be Y/N. Oh, how you have grown!”, an older man smiles friendly at you and you return his smile with a certain uncertainty in your face.

“Darling, we brought guests over for dinner today. You surely remember the Lestranges?”, your father announces happily and only now do the faces that you have seen at numerous balls and celebrations seem familiar again. Especially one.

“Reinhard?”, you ask in amazement when you spot him standing behind his parents, a big smile on his face when he sees you.

“Y/N, how nice to see you again”, he grins, carefully pushing his way past your parents in order to slightly bow venerably to you, taking your hand in his to place a kiss on the back of it. “It has been some time.”

“I am sure you have a lot to tell each other”, your mother mentions in a sweet voice, but before she can continue, she watches how your facial expression changes from one second to the other as you look past them, out into the yard.

Next to the carriage with which they have returned, Tom is standing now, petting one of the splendid noble white horses before he joins all of you.

“Tom! There you are, I was already wondering where you went”, your father says, visibly pleased when he too spotted his future son-in-law, drawing everyone’s attention to him.

“Reinhard?”

“Tom?”

Within a few seconds, the two former best friends lay in each other’s arms, obviously happy to finally see the other again.

“Let us go inside. We want to show you our newest masterpiece of art in our wonderful collection, come on”, your mother announces happily and leads the Lestranges inside, but not without turning around to you once more. “The children can catch up on what they have missed.”

“I can’t believe it! You are really here, Tom. Man, you look even better than at Hogwarts”, Reinhard laughs, playfully pushing Tom to the side while you watch them in silence. “What are you doing here with the Blacks?”

“They kindly took me in”, Tom lies to him and for a moment you think he threw you a glance out of the corner of his eyes after uttering these words. His statement makes Reinhard realize that you were still there with them, who had apparently completely forgotten that you were even there.

“I am so happy to see you again, Y/N!”, he grins and takes a step closer to you, probably to be able to take a closer look at you. “Still just as beautiful as I imagined. And just as smart, I guess?”

Reinhard’s sudden compliments make you blush and your cheeks glow, which is why you nervously avert your gaze from him, directly falling on Tom, who looks at the scene in front of him with incredible resentment.

Unlike Tom, Reinhard was always there for you. You spent a lot of time together in your school days and if your parents had known about your close friendship, you are sure that he would have been your fiancé by now. Which, to be honest, does not sound bad anymore right now.

And yet your heart still belongs to Tom.

When you all sit together at dinner later in the evening, where your parents are talking about irrelevant things like Ministry of Magic, you keep making eye contact with Reinhard, who seems to be staring at you.

“Is there something on my face?”, you ask uncertainly and put your glass back on the table when you can no longer bear his piercing gaze.

“No, no, not at all. I was just wondering how a beautiful witch like you could have become so much more stunning”, Reinhard winks at you, causing you to swallow hard. You are not used to getting compliments, especially not from a handsome young man like him. Before you can answer to him, however, there is a loud clink and you startle, your eyes immediately fixed on the cause of the noise.

The glass, which you have certainly placed far away from the edge, is now lying in your lap, the little liquid that was still inside now spread over your elegant evening gown. You move your chair back in shock when, in the corner of your eye, you see how Tom puts away his wand. And not only did you notice Tom just now, but the rest of them follow your gaze.

“Tom, darling, how about you tell our guests how you and our daughter got to know each other”, your mother suddenly prompts him, not even realizing that he has just deliberately spilled your drink on you. But why did he in the first place?

„I would love to“, Tom puts on a really believable smile that no one but you questions and starts telling them how you met and fell in love with each other. He tells one lie after another, explaining the web of lies that you have spun around you over time to make your relationship as credible as possible, at least in front of other people. And suddenly nobody cares about you or your still soaking wet dress anymore.

“What a wonderful story”, Mrs. Lestrange applauds and everyone else seems to be completely enthusiastic about Tom’s fairytale. To top it off, he then reaches across the table to take your hand in his, just like a real affectionate couple would do.

You lower your gaze as he gently strokes the back of your hand with his thumb, trying your best to not show how uncomfortable you are. Oh, how much you wish that this were real, that Tom would actually treat you like this when you are alone, the same way as he does in front of your parents.

But he does not and deep down you know that he will never do.

“So, you are engaged?”, Reinhard scrutinizes the statement of his former best friend, his eyes focused on you suspiciously, as if he is expecting an answer from you and not from Tom. A slight pressure on your hand makes you flinch and look up.

“Y-Yes”, you force a smile onto your lips, whereupon Tom seems satisfied with your answer, letting go of your hand again with a - what seemed to you like a – disgusted expression on his face.

An uncomfortable silence spreads between the three of you, which is drowned out by the loud conversation of the adults on the other side of the table. Finally, making up your mind, you clear your throat loudly and get up from your chair, gaining everyone’s attention in a matter of seconds.

“Excuse me, I have to go freshen up for a moment”, you explain with a slight polite bow before turning away to leave the dining room.

“Reinhard, would you be so kind and help Y/N”, Mr. Lestrange asks his son, who stands up with furrowed brows, apparently just as surprised about this sudden request as you, but then follows you out into the hallway with no further objection.

“I really do not need any help, thank you”, you try to get rid of him as you walk up the large staircase leading to the first floor together, only wanting to be alone.

“Dinner like these are totally boring anyway”, he chuckles softly and shows no intentions of leaving your side any time soon, which is why you do not even try to search for further arguments. He follows you to your room where you are able to tear yourself away from him to put on a new dress while he waits outside in front of the door.

With an equally elegant burgundy red dress you step out of your room after a few minutes, Reinhard’s eyes greeting you with a sparkle.

“Wow”, he breathes out barely audible and takes you hand without asking to swirl you around, causing your dress to fly around gorgeously. Unintentionally, warmth rises in your face again and your hearts makes a barely noticeable jump inside your chest when he looks deep into your eyes after catching you back in his arms.

The loud clearing of a throat behind you makes you turn around in shock, only to see that Tom himself is now standing at the end of the corridor, not seeming very enthusiastic.

“We did not see you there, Tom”, Reinhard disguises his obvious nervousness with a laugh, acting like Tom had just caught you in doing something he should not have seen. Tom, however, does not even react to his words, but looks past Reinhard at you, his eyebrows raised meaningfully.

But when you do not move under his piercing gaze, his facial expression changes and he quickly approaches you, Reinhard instinctively pushing you behind him so that you can only see Tom approaching further over his shoulder. Before neither you nor Reinhard can say or do anything, Tom has already pulled out his wand and aims it directly at Reinhard, who flies back through the air only a few seconds later, hitting the hard marble floor at the end of the corridor with a thud.

“What the-?!”

“Come with me”, Tom orders, now standing directly in front of you. When you stubbornly refuse, he suddenly grabs your wrist to pull you away from there. No matter how much you fight against his firm grip, you cannot tear yourself away from him as he pulls you into the closest room, which turns out to be the library.

Once there, you can finally free yourself from his tight grip, but before you can reach for the doorknob to leave immediately, he locks the door with a spell. Angrily, you turn to him, despair written all over your stunning face.

“What is this supposed to be, Tom? Let me out of here, now!”, you command him in a loud voice, not caring if anybody can hear.

“What did he want from you?”, he asks you urgently and steps closer to you. Since the door is in your back, every possible escape route is blocked, and you are caught.

“We just talked to each other, you know. Like normal people do”, you answer irritably and cross your arms in front of your chest, not in the mood to justify yourself, especially not in front of someone who does not care about you at all and not after what he has done.

“But that did not look like it.”

“Tom, stop it.”

“You belong to me and nobody else!”

These words coming out of his mouth echo loudly through the dark library, his face wrapped in an eerie candlelight. Before you can even control yourself and fully process what he said, you severely slap him.

Frightened by your own horrible deed, you immediately pull your hand away, your gaze filled with fear, but the anger that keeps building up inside of you winning the upper hand after all.

“How dare you call me your property?!”, you scream in rage and tears form in your eyes because of your uncontrollable anger. However, Tom needs a moment to collect his thoughts after your heavy smack before he can answer you.

“You are my fiancé”, he spits out coldly, a touch of shock in his voice, apparently not expecting you to react like this.

“And that does not make me nowhere near your property! You never treat me like your fiancé anyway, so why now all of a sudden?!”, you bicker at him, your voice loud and constant, even though you would like to flee from this situation right away if you were able to.

But Tom does not have an answer.

“Fine, okay. If you have nothing to say to me, like you never have, then I will go back now and ask my parents to end this damn failed engagement and engage me with someone else who truly cares for me!”

Suddenly, without letting you time to catch your breath after your outburst, he presses you with your back against the door completely, his hands tightly grabbing your wrists, a little too tight for your personal liking.

“You mustn’t do that”, he softly whispers, his head lowered as if he does not dare to look you in the eyes.

“What is stopping me?”, you hiss, still full of anger and – probably for the very first time – hatred towards him.

But when you feel his lips on yours all of a sudden, all of these emotions evaporate and all that remains is your racing heartbeat, which is being repaired at this very moment. You never would have thought that at some point in your life the moment would come when Tom Marvolo Riddle, who absolutely loathes his fiancé, kisses you.

After kissing you, he looks straight into your eyes, and the Tom you met in 1938 is standing in front of you again. The Tom you fell so deeply in love with.

“I can’t explain it to you”, he finally breaks the silence, his gaze directed to the floor as he moves away from you, giving you enough space to breathe regularly again. You, however, do not say anything but just stare at him.

“I was not aware that I am capable of feeling such feelings for someone. I am unfamiliar with this feeling and I did not know how to deal with it, Y/N. I treated you badly because I did not want it to be true, I did not want to accept it. I could not imagine having feelings for the little nuisance that has always been running after me”, Tom explains, choosing each and every single word very carefully, trying to put his emotions into words which does not really work the way he would like it to. But that is how you know him. You know that this confession must be extremely difficult for him, but you can’t help but feel a sense of relief inside of you.

“When?”, you ask and manage, with this tiny little word, to make him look up at you. “When did you know?”

“Since I have been here. You served me every day and took care of me, even though I wanted to push you away from me with all of my might. You have already helped me so many times in the past without me even asking, you have always accepted me for who I am”, he desperately tries to but his feelings into words, asking himself what he is even doing right now.

“Tom..”

“No, I have to sincerely apologize to you. I had no right to treat you the way I did. And also today.. when I saw you with him and how well you got along, it finally became clear to me. Reinhard has felt something for you since our school days, I know that even though I could never understand, but now I do. I understand why he fell in love with you”, Tom continues without breathing, pouring out all of his feelings that he has hidden for so long.

“I understand if you want to dissolve this engagement and I will not stop you if that is what you want”, he quickly adds, looking at you with desperation in his eyes. He already prepares himself for the worst when you are the one getting closer to him this time.

“Idiot”, you smile slightly and place a gentle kiss on his lips while he looks at you puzzled. “I love you, I thought you knew that.”

“I know, but-“

“But nothing”, you interrupt him and take his hand to lead it to your fast pounding heart. “It always belonged to you.”

[kohakuarisaka]

Untamed (chapter 4 of 5)

Takami Keigo x (fem!)Reader

[ SUMMARY ] Every year, without fail, Hawks went into a rut: when autumn began, and then again in early spring. He would honker down up north in a secluded cabin. For the first time, he brought you with him.

[ WARNINGS ] R18+ for graphic sexual content and language. Non-canon compliant: Hawks’ quirk does not work like this. Reader is a hero that works at Hawks agency. Pre-existing relationship. Reader is a female with female genitalia. Feral behavior. Rutting. Biting. Spanking. Slight BDSM. Consensual sex. Wing kink. Oral sex. Romantic relationship.

Chapter 1 • Chapter 2 • Chapter 3 • Chapter 4 • Chapter 5

[ My BNHA Fanfic Masterlist ] ~ [ Also on my AO3 ]

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Hawks had gone on an early morning flight the following day, before you had stirred from sleep, leaving you alone in the cabin for the first time.

He was reaching the apex of his rut. The cabin was beginning to feel like the inside of an oven. That was great for keeping his mate warm, but not so great for him in his current state, where he felt like he was roasting alive.

Outside, the winds were cold, almost punishingly so. Under normal conditions, he would have been wrapped up in his fur coat. However, now, he was wearing a loose T-shirt more suited for summer, baggy cargo pants and military boots.

He took off into the sky, soaring at great speeds that would make him near impossible to see with the naked eye, assuming anyone was actually around to spot him in the first place.

He'd soar up high, then let himself descend in a tumbling spiral, then catch his fall above the trees and rocket between the branches, sometimes letting the bottoms of his boots skim the trees to shake the snow off.

He always loved the feeling of the wind through his feathers; but, the sensation was more intense during his rut. While pain receptors didn't exist in his feathers in the same manner as his flesh and bones, he could still process feeling.

During his rut, feeling was intensified in his wings. He almost thought he could breathe the air through his feathers. Perhaps, it was why he felt so unbearably warm, why your touch had reduced him to a blabbering animal.

It was difficult to resist the desire to bring you with him on his flights, to hold you against his chest and feel your body clinging to him while he descended.

It was exciting to think about what kind of noises you would make. He hoped that you would find it exhilarating. He wanted to feel your heartbeat thundering away from the rush, to see red tinting your cheeks and tears in your eyes.

Instead, Hawks floated alone and let the late winter air bite away at his skin while the winds brushed along his feathers. It was soothing more so than chilling. Despite how unfitting his clothes was for the weather, not even the tips of his fingers felt cold.

The winter breeze had relaxed him, but not for long. Despite the obvious chill in the air, Hawks was still sporting a painful erection. He avoided touching it, knowing full well that masturbation was pointless. Enduring this alone for years taught him that it would likely only irritate him further.

You were here, you were safe, you were his, you wanted to be here, you wanted him. Your scent was all over the nest and his bite mark was a heavy eyesore on your throat. There wasn't another human for miles. But, despite the obvious fact that there was no reason for him to feel uneasy, his nature wouldn't allow him to rest.

His rational side wanted to let you relax, to give you some reprieve from him, from what he did to you and intended to do again. The beast, however, clawing under his skin, wanted to have you again.

Hawks flew some, and then some more, letting time slip away, until he was agitated to the point that his hands were digging into his outer thighs, nails threatening to rip his clothes.

Snow began to fall on his way back to the cabin, and the gentle wind hurled it to and fro. He could feel the soft droplets fluttering against his skin. The snow felt cold, of course, but he didn't really process it. All he could think about was getting back to you.

When he crossed the threshold, it was like entering another world. The outside whistled with the harsh wind and kicked snow inside, suddenly silenced when he slammed the door. He felt the sudden security of being in his nest, enclosed, private, safe, where it smelt like freshly cut logs and you.

As Hawks stepped into the living room, he realized that you had migrated away from the bed, likely due to the cold. You had brought some blankets and pillows over and haphazardly arranged them in front of the fireplace. You had even dug a rolled-up futon out of the supply closet to pile the bedding on top of. He had forgotten that was even in there.

His boots thumped against the wood floor as he walked, catching your attention. You peered up at him, your eyes failing to mask your excitement at his return.

At a glance, Hawks could see that you had showered while he was away. Your hair was clean, just a tiny bit damp at the ends. As he got closer, he could faintly catch a whiff of the well water that fed into to the cabin lingering on your skin.

It was only natural that you would want to clean off after what he had done to you the past couple days. Hawks was well aware of that and was trying to remain calm about the whole situation; but, the truth was, he was annoyed by your actions.

You had washed him away.

Of course, that could easily be remedied.

Hawks advanced towards you, mindful to not step on the blankets with his boots, to not dirty the nest you made. He lowered onto his haunches first, taking in the sight of you, the sight of the bedding you had arranged without him. You had slipped on one of his shirts and a pair of shorts, not suitable for the weather, but suitable for him. Like this, your body was very accessible, that much was certain.

"I made breakfast, if you're hungry?" you offered, clearly not at all perturbed by his looming and staring. He didn't look annoyed, but oddly intrigued, maybe even flattered by your behavior.

"You have snow in your hair," you observed, smiling at the sight of pale white crystals caught in his blonde locks. You leaned up and reached for him, carefully tousling his hair to shake the snow free.

He waited until you were done preening him and suddenly jerked forward, pushing you onto your back with his torso. He followed with you, knees pinning you beneath him, one falling between your thighs.

When you peered up at him, unperturbed by his behavior, Hawks' gold eyes narrowed and his fangs bared. A sound that you didn't know he was capable of making snarled from behind his teeth and echoed around the room.

It was a growl, not like anything you had heard from a dog, or any animal, really. You didn't know that he could make noises like that. It seemed unfitting for the calm, polite hero that you knew so well. Then again, he had warned you about this.

Maybe, this whole experience was doing something to you, changing you; or, more likely, he was helping you discover things about yourself you never knew existed.

The growl didn't frighten you at all. It made you tremble with excitement, made your skin prickle with goosebumps and heart flutter, made wetness pool between your legs.

Spurred on by him, maybe wanting to rattle the beast's cage a little, you decided to be daring. You lifted a leg, pressed your foot against his chest, and pushed against him. Of course, he didn't budge at all. He was much stronger than you normally, and especially unwavering in this state of mind.

"Take off your clothes," you requested, trying your damn best to sound powerful, unyielding. You sounded firm, sure, but you didn't sound as strong as you wanted to, maybe not strong enough to coerce a beast.

Yet, Hawks' gaze softened, surprising you. He had told you he wanted you to be yourself, to not succumb to his every emotion. It kept him grounded, reminded him that you were here of your own free will, because you wanted to be. Your demand sobered him.

"Whatever you want," he uttered, sultry and low, and it made you tremble with excited goosebumps.

He leaned back, rising to his feet, and began shucking off his clothes in record time. His boots hit the floor noisily before he fumbled with his belt, having it barely undone before it was dragged down his hips by his pants.

He wasn't wearing underwear, you realized, as he shucked his pants off his feet. He lifted his arms and tugged his shirt over his head. The fabric hit the floor and, rather than throwing himself on top of you, Hawks remained standing.

His wings were spread out behind him, crimson feathers bright and imposing. His gold eyes were vibrant, staring you down like a predator seconds away from laying claim to its prey.

However, it didn't go unnoticed to you that he was standing there to allow you to appraise him, as if you had never laid eyes upon his nudity before.

Despite the cold, he had a faint sheen of sweat that was glistening in the light coming from the fireplace, outlining taut abdominal muscles. He hadn't eaten much since his arrival, and that much was obvious by the exaggerated tightness around his core, muscles more enhanced than you had ever seen before.

It felt almost shameful to stare at his crotch, but it was damn near impossible to not admire the heavy cock between his thighs. It was a sight to behold, just like the rest of him. The trail of pale blonde pubes leading from beneath his belly button was practically begging you to stare.

Still, you dragged your gaze back up at his face, where he looked surprisingly anxious, as if there a chance in hell you would tell him no. Sometimes, it was astonishing to think that someone so beautiful could have an ounce of self-doubt. But, he did. Even if he managed to hide it well, you could always spot it, the fear of not being good enough.

"Keigo," you uttered, voice sounding weak over the sound of the crackling fireplace.

Your arms lifted, hands reaching out for him, beckoning him into an embrace. You blinked and suddenly, he was on top of you, torso ushering you back into the sheets while his hands clawed at your shorts, dragging them down your legs.

Hawks panted into your neck, nails biting at the fleshy meat of your thighs as he tried to will himself to calm down. He was being nonsensical. You had been together for a while now. He had fucked you in every position he could possibly think of, held you at night when he could and kissed your mouth like you were his.

Because you were. Yet, despite all that, he felt so pleased that you still chose him, again.

When your hands slid over his shoulders and felt the burning heat of his skin, you felt a tinge of guilt at his state. Deliriously, you wanted to take care of him, to be able to give him everything he needed.

One hand cradling the back of his neck, you pulled him up until his face came into view and you kissed at the corner of his mouth. Encouraged, he followed, tilting his head to capture your lips in a proper kiss.

You felt his shoulders relax as his body slid atop yours, legs tangled and torsos coming together. His hands released your thighs, opting to slide up your sides, beneath your shirt and along the expansion of your ribs, where the pads of his fingers traced the outlines of your bones.

Despite the insistent, throbbing erection trapped against your thigh, burning hot like forged iron, his kisses were gentle, ushering your mouth open to accept his tongue. He kissed you like he had forgotten what your mouth tasted like, tongue slotting over yours eagerly, moaning into the kiss senselessly.

After sometime, you pushed back against his chest until he finally got the message and pulled back from your lips. You tried not to laugh at the childishly irritated scowl on his face, his expression silently reprimanding you for stopping him.

"Lay down," you urged. "I wanna touch you."

"Don't need any more teasing, babe," he protested weakly.

Still, despite his protest, you nudged him pleadingly. Hawks groaned like you had struck him, but complied and began rolling over, bringing you above him.

You watched his wings flex and fan out comfortably beneath him, spread out across the sheets like twin, elegant blankets, mindful of the fireplace. He propped his back up with some pillows, giving him just enough leverage to lean up a little, but not quite in a seated position.

As Hawks got situated, you tweaked one of his nipples between your fingers. He yelped at the touch, shoulders twitching and wings shuddering faintly beneath him. Your hand was ripped away by a grip at the wrist; but, you couldn't hold back a smile as he glared up at you.

That glare disappeared off his face when you started wiggling down his lap. Of course he knew what was coming, especially when you cupped his weeping cock and tenderly lifted it off his abdomen. Yet, excitement clawed up his spine as if he was sincerely surprised.

He hardly registered your tongue lapping at the swollen tip, where he was sticky with precum. He did, however, painfully so, notice when you sank down, enveloping his length in your hot mouth.

For a moment, you just held him against your tongue, reveling in the salty taste and moaning when you felt him throb. You slid up to the tip, failing to notice how tense the rest of him was, back arched and staring down at you intensely, muscles tight from head to toe. When you sank back down, tightening your mouth around his shaft, Hawks cried out suddenly.

His loudness startled you more so than the sudden gush of his seed. His hands grabbed at the bedding. In the corner of your eye, you could see his feathers shuddering beneath him.

Hawks' cock throbbed with each spurt, heavy where it rested against your lax tongue. He was deep enough that his seed spilled right down your throat. You relaxed and swallowed it carefully, cheeks tinted red as Hawks whined above you.

When he came down from his high, he was still impossibly hard, throbbing against your tongue as if he hadn't come at all. You began bobbing your head, excited at the thought of getting him to come again. However, his hands suddenly flew up, grabbed at your cheeks and pulled you off.

You hadn't expected that, resulting in a wet pop and a string of saliva dangling between your drooping bottom lip and his member. Hawks stared for a moment, almost in disbelief at the sight, like something taken straight out of a porno, and not reality.

"God, you look so fucking naughty," he snarled, dragging your face in towards his, forcing you to arch over him. "Dirty fucking girl, aren't you?"

His tongue lapped against your bottom lip, catching your dripping saliva, before entering your mouth without preamble. The wet organ thrashed around senselessly, enjoying the taste of himself on your mouth. After a few seconds, he pulled back with a growl and dragged your shirt up, forcing your arms above your head to free you from the garment.

"Keigo, let me-" you whined.

"Be good," he silenced you in a gentle, albeit commanding, voice.

The world flipped when he spun you back around and your back hit the bedding. His wings fanned out above the two of you, beat against the air once, and flexed, plumes spread out majestically.

"I wanna touch you more," you protested, fingers weaving through his hair with dangerous intent. You gently dug the pads of your fingers into his scalp and watched his head lull from the pleasure, eyes fluttering shut.

"That's not being good," Hawks commented with a groan, making no immediate movement to stop you.

"I wasn't done," you retorted, leaning up to drag your cheek against the stubble on his jaw. You couldn't hold back a shudder at the sensation, soft yet rough hair dragging against your skin.

"Fuck," the winged hero growled, eyes opening to take you in with a faint glare.

Your felt a wandering hand smack gently against your inner thigh, forcing your legs to spread to give him space to settle between them. A digit suddenly grazed your slit, circling your entrance to gather wetness before slipping inside.

It was almost laughable to think he had gone out into the snow to cool off; yet, the heat of your core was tantalizing, so inviting that the touch alone threatened to undo him. You were already slippery and when he effortlessly sought out your sweet spot, you mewled.

Hawks groaned like you had wounded him, the sound practically vibrating from his throat and traveling through him onto you. He tilted his head to nibble at your jaw, breath hot enough to burn your skin where he exhaled against you.

"You're ready for me," Hawks commented lowly, driving his finger inside until his knuckles brushed your folds. "Did you like the taste of my cock that much? -my cum? Feel this - fuck. You're begging for it."

"You're begging for it," you retorted softly, hands carefully untangling from his hair and sliding down to cup his face. You pulled him back, away from your neck, so you could look into his eyes.

"Yeah," he agreed in a low sigh, forehead bumping against yours just a little too roughly. "Want you so fucking bad."

"How bad?" you hummed encouragingly, hiking your legs up on his waist to pull him in.

His finger slipped free, hands shifting to slide over your hips, dragging you into a place more to his liking, pinned beneath him, where you were helpless to much more than squirm. You hiked your legs up on his hips, groaning when he humped at your core, causing his cock to drag against your folds.

"Kinda hurts, if I'm being honest," Hawks groaned out lowly.

"I'll take care of you," you promised, blinking slowly as you stared back at his vibrant gold eyes.

"Yeah?" he uttered weakly. "I can just-"

His tip prodded at your entrance and Hawks cut off, moaning in a wounded manner that had your head spinning. You had seen him get pent-up and frustrated before, after week long missions and months apart; but, he never sounded quite like this.

"Yes," you whispered back harshly.

With a shift of his hips, he was suddenly buried inside you. The sudden intrusion wasn't as startling as the loud noise that escaped Hawks. He shuddered above you, crying out, wings flexing and beating the air, driving him down against you.

"Oh, fuck, Keigo," you whined, realizing he had finished the moment he slipped inside.

His cock throbbed as if to remind you that he wasn't done yet. There was a wet squelch as he slipped out and rammed back inside, nearly drowned out by a guttural, "f-fuck", that he breathed against your neck.

He thrusted a few times, rough rolls of his hips, forcing your walls to accommodate his girth. You couldn't hold back a weak groan. As prepared as you might have been, it was inevitable that there would always be some strain to take him.

Hawks must have assumed that he was taking you too hard, for he slowed down, uttering a weak, "s-sorry."

Yet, the dissatisfaction from his slow pace was far worse than the slight ache when he took it too fast. You didn't want it slow and soft. The last couple days had you wound up, prepared for the promised, carnal passion. You wanted him to fuck you like his life depended on it.

"No," you hissed out, trying to angle your hips up to bring him in harder, fast. "God - no - Keigo, harder-"

With a faint growl, he obeyed that command, the sudden hard roll of the hips forcing you to break off into a loud cry.

"Babe, I'm gonna lose it if you talk like that," he warned, words throaty and rough where they breathed against your skin.

You worked one hand into his hair while the other grabbed at his back, nails biting deliciously into his skin, holding him close, forcing your bodies together.

"I want you to," you uttered between broken moans that he forced out of you with his cock.

Hawks uttered your name lowly, a clear warning.

"God, Keigo, just-" you growled, wiggling around helplessly beneath him. He shifted his weight, holding you down with a growl, as if you were dare trying to escape him.

It was exciting, and had you babbling at him wantonly, "you're so f-fucking sexy and I - I want it. Want you to just - f-fuck me like - ahh, Keigo, your mate."

His arms suddenly wound beneath you and hoisted you off the floor. You cried out, clinging to him in a startle at the sudden verticality. Hawks leaned upright, on his knees in front of the fireplace, holding you up, pressed against his chest, hands gripping your meaty hips to hold you at the perfect angle to fuck up into you.

"My mate? -fuck when you say things like that, makes me fucking - ghhh - fu-uck - you want me to fuck you? Yeah?" he babbled on, whispering harshly right into your ear.

It was a little too close, a little too loud, and left a ringing sensation in your head. Yet, you didn't want to shy away, especially not when he started growling. Clinging to him desperately, you could feel his back muscles shifting as his wings flapped with enough force to knock some logs off the stand.

His head tilted back and took in the sight of your face. Your eyes were struggling to remain open, lips parted lewdly, cheeks tinted a brilliant shade of red.

"You look amazing," he whispered, hot breath fanning over your face. "Fucked stupid on my cock, where you belong."

You moaned lowly, head lulling against his shoulder. You felt his lips press a kiss against your temple and he continued uttering into your hair.

"Gonna fill my pretty mate with cum. Is that what she wants?" he whispered, low and sweet, sultry and downright vulgar. You didn't answer; but, he felt your nails bite into his shoulders, heard your breath briefly catch in your throat.

"Yeah, she does," he agreed, breaking off into a pleased hum.

The wet, fleshy sounds drowned out the noise of the fireplace, accompanied by your helpless mewling and Hawks disgruntled moans and grunts. You were so close like this, held up by his strong grip, chest to chest.

You sought out the strength to peer up and catch a glimpse of his wings shuddering, flexing out from his back either for balance or unconsciously, you couldn't determine. You tore one of your hands from his shoulder and dragged your fingers through his plumes, along the growth until you met his back.

Hawks cried out in a sharp roar. His pace increased exponentially as he rode out his orgasm, wheezing and panting into the space beside your head. That white-hot pleasure overtook you at some point, forcing a startled scream from your throat.

He kept going and going, only slowing down when he was certain you were finished. Suddenly, he slipped out, and the emptiness had you whimpering, head spinning and body aching.

Your back hit the bedding and then your front when Hawks rolled you over. Focused on the ache between your thighs, you barely processed the rustling of the bedding, until Hawks shoved some pillows beneath your abdomen to slightly elevate your lower half.

He propped himself up on his hands and knees, fingers splayed out across the bedsheets on either side of your torso. You felt the tops of his thighs slide against the backs of yours, cock heavy and wet against your core.

The realization of what he was about to do seemed to slap him in the face at that moment, for Hawks suddenly stopped, freezing up behind you.

"Fuck, I need you," he uttered, voice hoarse and low. "Please - please, can I keep going? -still so fucking hard."

You almost didn't recognize the sound of his voice, hoarse and desperate; but, then, his wings beat against the air, sharply reminding you that this was Takami Keigo.

Your cheek was pressed against one of the pillows, arms splayed out above your head, and you realized faintly that you must have been quite the sight, spread out lewdly for him, back curved, ass in the air, presenting to him like a bitch in heat.

There was no sense of obligation spurring your unity; or, if there was, it was an afterthought. All you felt was desire, longing for more, aching to be filled, trembling and void of any coherent thought beyond Hawks.

You could feel his throbbing cock at your entrance, his knees pushing yours apart, his arms trembling on either side of you. He was hovering some odd few inches; yet, he was panting so heavily, you could feel it fanning over your back.

"Keigo," you whispered weakly. "Don't stop."

Your scream drowned out the inhuman growl that escaped him as he shoved his hips forward, sheathing himself inside your velvety heat, as deep as he could possibly go, trying to push his hips further forward as if it wasn't enough.

Hawks fucked you wildly, huffing out sharp breaths mingled with pleasured moans. It didn't take long for him to reposition his hands, one settling on your waist while the other fisted in the bedsheets above your head. He arched over you possessively, wings beating the air to drive him forward. As unnecessary as it was, you couldn't deny the way it stoked the fire inside you.

Before you could even think to ask, one of his feathers wiggled between your thighs, nuzzling against your pearl where it flicked and twirled, pinching at the bud with just enough friction to be pleasurable, but not too hard to be painful.

"Keigo!" you cried out, hands gripping the sheets with enough force to nearly tear them.

"Say my name," tumbled from his lips, like a broken baritone. "Yeah - fuck - my name - say my name. Gonna - ahh - stuff you with my c- ahh - fuck, you feel so good - so good," he babbled on, leaving your head spinning.

He was fucking into you at the perfect angle, ensuring his cock reached your sweet spot with each and every thrust. At some point, coherent thoughts died. Nothing existed beyond the bed sheets, the fireplace, the cabin. All you could think about was the sweet scent lingering on the sheets beneath you and the explosive pleasure Hawks was forcing through your body.

He came again at some point; but, you could hardly tell. Everything was already sopping wet, seed dripping from your cunt and down your thighs, as well his. The sounds he made never ceased, inhuman groans deep in his throat that mingled with each hurried inhale and exhale, in harmony with his thrusts.

His dominant hand slid down your spine, carefully curling at the back of your neck to hold you down. As mindless as it might have appeared, you were acutely aware that he wasn't holding all his weight down.

You were familiar with the power he held, the brute strength hidden beneath his charming and silly demeanor. He could hurt you very easily if he wanted to; but, he never did. Even in this state, his self-control was mind boggling, pinning you with just the right amount of pressure to keep you still, but not enough to cause any discomfort.

'Keigo' fell from your lips, again and again, as if it was the only word you knew. Above you, Hawks seemed to be in the very state he had been worried about, that he had warned you about: blinded by the pleasure of your core, lost to the desires overwhelming his every thought for days.

At some point, he hunched over even further, hardly thrusting properly anymore and just rutting into you, and you felt his lips touch the space between your shoulder blades.

It was hardly a kiss and you realized vaguely that he was drooling a little before you felt the sting of his teeth. Hawks gnawed a path up your back, leaving behind pink, blossoming bruises, before digging his teeth into your shoulder. It wasn't as strong as the last bite, a brief sting before the pain was lost to the pleasure.

He growled into your skin, whole body quaking with sharp tremors, signaling that he had reached orgasm again. You had lost sense of your own awhile ago, always ablaze in white hot pleasure. The mere touch of his hand along your skin, every shift of his hips, the union of your sexes, had you vibrating.

You lost track of how long that went on, how long Hawks kept going, mouth latched onto your skin, slobbering and whimpering into your flesh, while his hips rolled against yours, pinning you between the floor and his unwavering form.

Everything felt too good for you to process how tired you had become, brought to the brink of exhaustion, glistening with sweat from head to toe, kept awake only by his invasion of your body, the drag of his cock along your velvety walls.

Eventually, Hawks began to slow. He carefully removed his teeth from your shoulder and gave a few more thrusts, letting out a low whine that you could guess was one last, final orgasm.

His feather departed your slippery folds, leaving you aching and spent, and he remained buried as deep as he possibly could, hips pressed tightly against yours.

Hawks nuzzled his face into the back of your neck, panting wildly, and you felt what you could only describe as vibrations rumbling from his chest, so violently that it had you shaking beneath him. It was almost alarming, but the tremors steadily waned as his breathing relaxed.

Carefully, Hawks turned you onto your side, shoved the pillow beneath you away, and curled into the space between you, pressed tightly against your back, skin touching in every spot that was possible. His wings stretched out behind him, past the boundary of the bedding and spread out across the floor, lax like the rest of him.

Hawks adjusted your legs carefully, stretching them out with his own until they were comfortably laying side by side, all whilst ensuring his cock remained lodged inside you. The strain wasn't unpleasant; rather, you were surprised by how good it felt.

"Keigo?" you uttered weakly, voice so low, you were surprised he even heard you.

You felt his lips kiss at your throat and a hand settle over your tummy, fingers splayed. He uttered your own name back, as if reassuring, before his fingers moved around, sliding up and down your side soothingly.

You willed your eyes to open and watched the flames inside the hearth dance briefly before your gaze darkened and you drifted off to sleep, lulled by the sounds of the storm brewing outside and Hawks breathing softly behind you.

He didn't join you in the abyss, but watched over you cautiously, as if you could possibly be in any danger. The storm outside wasn't particularly worrisome, but it made it impossible for him to pick up sounds beyond the boundary of the cabin.

If you had turned to look upon his face, you would have seen his pupils miniscule, gold iris vibrant and wild. There was no chance that anyone would possibly disturb you, and his sensible self would have known that; but, as he was now, rut peaked and beast sufficiently satisfied, Hawks couldn't be told otherwise.

An arm drooped loosely over your waist, holding you close, and he listened to the soothing beats of your heart as you drifted into a peaceful slumber.

[dreamkidddream]

Hiya~ Can I request quote 9) "Are you jealous?" for Lucifer in Obey Me! pretty please😊

This was so much fun to write! Luci know that he gets jealous but never wants to admit (his jealousy is worse than Mammon but you didn’t hear it from me 🤭) and sorry this got kinda long! Reader is gender neutral!

TW: suggestive/spicy themes, but nothing extremely graphic is mentioned

Prompt: “Are you jealous?” with Lucifer!

Lucifer is pissed.

He’s tapping his foot, and constantly checking his phone, waiting in his study for you to either walk in or call him. It’s late, and you’re still not home yet. He asked his brothers where exactly you are, and when Asmo told him that you’re out with the same “friend” you seem to blow all of them off for some time now, it just makes his mood turn even more sour, the scowl on his face deepening.

Now, Lucifer is not opposed to you making friends, as long as they aren’t a threat to you, his family, Lord Diavolo and the other exchange students. He understands that it’s very easy for you to connect with others, intentional or not, and he encourages it to a certain extent. However, this same “friend” that you’ve been increasingly been hanging out with for the past couple of weeks is starting to rub him the wrong way. Of course he’s met this “friend”, a classmate from your Seductive Speechcraft class (which just made him feel more unease with you being with them), and they seemed harmless enough (for a demon at least). Annoying, but harmless, at first.

Then began the constant need for your attention.

It started with the messages and calls under the guise of studying, the “innocent” demon begging you for help so that they can pass the class, and you being the naive nice human that you are of course obliged their request. Then it escalated from once a week, to three times a week, to almost staying after school every day just to “help”. He didn’t like that, as it’s him or his brothers that always walk you home every time, and this demon (who he found is Yuki, a demon who feeds off of sexual energy nonetheless), is messing with the routine, but he kept his cool and forced his brothers to do the same. He- They weren’t happy about this, but at the end of the day, you’re still coming home to him- them, and nothing is changing that. Not to mention how he made sure that someone had their eyes on you, whether it’s Mammon, Beel, or even himself (which he preferred).

Until Yuki decided that you need to hang out more, without him or his brothers.

That’s when he made it known of his dislike towards them, and dislike is putting it lightly.

You started to come home right at dinner, right before Beel devoured your plate. Mammon obviously voiced his displeasure aloud, with the others silently agreeing or making passing comments, but Lucifer would just shut the conversation down before anyone gets too upset, mainly for himself. He doesn’t want to lose control over something trivial like this, he can’t, he won’t- he’s well above some minuscule pest like them, and it would be a waste of time and energy to be worried about someone who is clearly below him!

He’s already irritated with Yuki integrating themselves into your everyday life, but he’s also trying to fight the increasing sinking feeling in his stomach the more you both bond.

The more you two become more than acquainted with one another, the more Lucifer tries to fight and hide this feeling. He buries himself in more paperwork, practically locks himself in his study, avoids anyone’s questions or concerns, and has become overall snappier than usual. He’s even snapped on Lord Diavolo, Lord Diavolo of all people!

(Granted Diavolo just thought it was overall stress, so he just simply laughed it off, but it didn’t go unnoticed by everyone, including you).

Now Lucifer is not stupid, he’s a very intelligent and powerful demon, and he doesn’t have to say it to be known. He made sure to do some research himself on Yuki, and didn’t put anything past them. You’re still surrounded by demons who wouldn’t hesitate to swallow you whole if allowed, and some are still desperate enough to try anything, so he’s very cautious with others being around you.

Which leads to now, you being out again with that demon at The Fall. Ever since, Lucifer retired to his study, constantly checking his phone for any updates. He refused to look distressed in front of everyone, and he knows that you’re smart and not so gullible, you’ll be okay, you had to be.

It’s well going on 1 in the morning, and you still haven’t answered any of his calls and texts? You swore that you would always answer him, so something had to happen. What exactly were you doing? What exactly were you two doing? We’re you okay? Are you safe? Has that Yuki tried anything with you?

Were you two doing anything now?

All of these questions swirling around in his head, his worry only adding on to his frustrations and building tension going through his body.

He already marched down to the door, coat forgotten and tie undone, flinging it open and scowl so deep that his fangs were bared. That Yuki better hope that you come home in one piece and spotless, or else he will make sure that they regret being alive-

He couldn’t wipe the surprised look on his face when he made eye contact with you, who was matching his own expression, hand frozen in the air mid knock.

“Lucifer? What are you still doing up? Are you about to go somewhere?” His expression quickly morphed to one of high distaste, the irritation displaying clearly on his face and his grip tightening on the door.

“I was still awake waiting for you. Have you forgotten how to use a phone, or are you too good for one now that you’re with your ‘friend’. And I remember specifically telling you to let me know when you leave, did I not?”

“Oh. Well...my phone kinda died, but I was already on the way home and-”

“By yourself?! Do you know how irresponsible that is? Do you forget that you’re a mere human?”

His irritation is rising to pure anger at this revelation. So that demon didn’t even have the decency to walk you home? To make sure that you arrive safe? And yet you still have the nerve to spend time with them and practically ignore him?!-

“Well- um, Lucifer? Lucifer!”

He snapped out of his murderous thoughts, and stepped aside to let you in.

“Come inside now, it’s late, and we have much to discuss.”

Your face scrunched up, showing confusion in how he’s acting. You know that’s he mad about your phone being dead, but he’s mad enough to leave the door barely hanging on its hinges? But you knew that arguing or pointing it out would just make things escalate, so you just stepped past and began to make your way up the stairs.

You can feel his eyes bore into the back of your head, but you just didn’t understand why. It’s about more than just your phone, it seemed like he’s been on edge for awhile now. You want to approach him, to ask him what’s wrong, to have him open up, but of course Lucifer being Lucifer, it was to no avail.

You racked your brain as he lead you to his room and began the “conversation” about how irresponsible you were being (really it’s just him getting whatever he needed off his chest and not you giving any input). Was it because of you going out so late? No, you didn’t drink, you and Yuki stayed together the whole night, and you let him know hours before. Was it Yuki? Now that you’re think about it, he has been frowning more it seemed like every time you brought up their name-

The pieces are starting to fit together now.

Oh my Diavolo.

You couldn’t stop the words escaping from your mouth before you could realize it.

“Lucifer, are you jealous?”

He choked in the middle of his sentence, and the room went quiet. You’re pretty sure that you can’t even hear him breathing, and his face just went entirely blank, no expression whatsoever.

Oh no, you broke him-

A gust of wind erupted, so strong that you had to shield your eyes for a second, and when you removed your arm, you were met with massive black wings and a very enraged demon.

“Excuse me?”

You stepped back until you stumbled onto the bed, as he stalks closer and closer to you.

“Care to repeat yourself?”

You knew better than to respond, and you felt frozen on the bed. You also know that Lucifer won’t attack or try to kill you, but it didn’t take away from the fact that he has moments where he’s very intimidating, one of those moments being now.

He’s looking down at you like a predator would to its captured prey, his ruby eyes glowing deviously in the dim room. He didn’t stop moving until he was on top of you, caging you in.

“Me? Jealous?” He scoffed. “I am the Avatar of Pride, the most powerful being in this house, yet you assume that I’m jealous of a demon that’s beneath me? You insult me, MC.”

He took hold of your chin, “Do you not remember what I said when we made the pact? You are mine and mine alone. Not anyone else’s, but mine.”

You felt like your nerves were getting the best of you, but you couldn’t force yourself to tear away as he leaned closer. He sealed his lips against yours in a heated kiss, one that you gladly accepted, not before uttering the words that made your heart race even faster.

“Maybe I should remind you of who you belong to, hm?”

—-

“Had a fun night, MC?”

“Yeah, it was”, you coughed in your hand. “Very nice, very fun. We had a great time.”

“Hmmmmm...you and Yuki or you and Lucifer?”

“Asmo!”

He giggled, “I’m just saying dear. I don’t sense the pent-up sexual frustration from Lucifer anymore, and he seems back to normal and even relaxed. Though I must say MC, I wish that you had spent the night in my bed instead.”

“Of course you do Asmo.”

“Besides, I would have covered your hickeys much better-”

“ASMO-”

“MC, are you ready?”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear has never been more true than now, as Lucifer appeared behind you both, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“Huh? Oh, yes, sorry.”

“Eh? Where are you two going?”

“Out.”

“And without me?!”

“Yes. Now, leave us be”. Lucifer moved his hand from your shoulder to your own hand, leading you both out the door. You two had plans for the day after the...eye-opening talk from last night, and he didn’t want to waste anymore time than he already had.

Bonus:

Asmo waited until he heard the door click, and then quickly whipped out his D.D.D. to text Yuki. He knew that the plan was going to be a success! A tense Lucifer made things more difficult for everyone, and he has too much pride to open his mouth so he decided to step in and team up with Yuki, who already knew about the whole ordeal.

Lucifer was already on the edge of snapping and letting his primal instincts take over anyway, so Asmo just gave him a little push in the right direction.

Thank Diavolo the plan worked, or else it would be hell for them both. He did owe Yuki some exposure on his socials in exchange for this and backing off of you now, but it was well worth the trouble.

[mercy-burning]

Cold Feet

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: After receiving a letter from an old flame just days away from her wedding, Reader wonders if she should call it all off. —Inspired by the song Cold Feet by Tenille Arts Category: Angst (happy ending) Content Warnings: An almost kiss that isn’t with Reader’s fiancé, and blink and you’ll miss it implied smut Word Count: 1.7k

MASTERLIST | Alternate Version/Ending of Cold Feet

NOTE: When @meganskane announced her 700 follower celebration I just knew this idea would be the perfect way to implement one of the prompts she gave! The one I chose is “quit looking at me like that” ❤

Also! Fun fact: this song opens with “they’re all set to go on the 18th of June”, and that’s today, so it’s festive 😊)

***

She should be happily wrapped in a dream, Dying to kiss him and put on his ring. So why is she walking alone after midnight, Down a small town street, with cold feet?

Y/N is currently finding it difficult to breathe.

It was easier a couple days ago when she knew exactly what she wanted. Her husband-to-be was more than excited to marry her, and she'd reciprocated that feeling entirely. Everything was ready to go. Truthfully, they could have gotten married right this second if that's what they wanted, that's how ready to go they were.

But now? She was questioning everything.

She still feels the thin paper in her hands, even with its folded body currently tucked away in an old book she knew was never going to be opened again— a gift from the man who'd written the letter in the first place.

The first time she read it, her heart sank. And by the third time she'd read it, her heart soared.

And then her fiancée walked in, asked her about what to make for dinner, and her heart sank all over again.

Honestly, damn him for choosing now to finally confess. Damn him for making her question everything, after she'd finally moved on and found someone who would always be around.

But then again, she'd ended up choosing to live in a house in their hometown, just blocks away from that creek he'd mentioned in his letter. So... Maybe she hadn't moved on entirely

She hated that she even had to think about it.

She hated that her thoughts were so consumed with this man she hadn't seen in years when the man she was about to marry slept next to her every night, unaware of the start to her inner turmoil. Each night since then, she dreamt of dances with both of them, alternating between the two until they made her choose which of them she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. And every morning she'd wake with an even bigger tear in her heart than when the old flame had burned it alive and left her alone in the aftermath to piece it back together.

Her fiancée helped her do that, though. Day by day he taught her to love again, to trust in somebody again, and he was truly a good man.

So why was it absolutely destroying her, thinking of getting married to him when there was someone else in the picture to think about? Someone who'd had a hold on her for well over fifteen years?

Again, she hated that she even had to think about it.

But she wasn't about to get married with all these conflicting thoughts, so whether she wanted to or not, her only real option was the one that would also be the hardest on her tattered heart.

She'd sent him a text message this morning that read, Midnight, and tucked her phone away for the rest of the day, drowning herself in mindless work and looking to keep time moving forward.

Now, she struggles to breathe as she makes her way down to the creek.

It's cold, having just rained fifteen minutes prior, and she wraps her fiancée's cardigan tightly over her her arms, searching for warmth and comfort. She would have settled for one of her own, heavier pieces, but in some strange way she thought maybe having something there that belonged to her fiancée would ground her, something to remind her of the gravity of the situation at hand.

Nothing could have grounded her upon seeing her ex boyfriend after all these years, though, especially when she finally shows up to their old spot and sees him perched on the big stump right next to the water, relief and joy flooding through his features at the sight of her. His smile is just as bright and familiar as she remembered, and it just about knocks the wind out from under her feet.

"Hi, Y/N," he greets softly, standing up and stretching his hands out over his legs. It's obvious that he's nervous to meet up with her after all these years apart, and she couldn't blame him in the slightest.

She's just as nervous as her feet take baby steps towards him. Meanwhile she's hugging her fiancée's cardigan around her body tighter than before. "Hi..."

"I... I can't believe you actually wanted to meet. Truthfully I thought I wouldn't hear back from you."

"Well... Your letter kind of rattled me... You rattled me. I guess I just had to know..."

There's a long pause before he takes a small step towards her and tilts his head. His words are hesitant, like he thinks she might say something he doesn't want to hear. "And... What do you know?"

"I know that I love my fiancée. After you, I didn't really think I'd ever love anyone the same way again, but... He makes me happier than I've ever been, and I... I can't just discard that feeling because you decided too late that you still love me. You know?"

"I do, Y/N, I really do," he answers earnestly, and this time his hand reaches out to grab hers. "But... I mean, you showed up here, didn't you? That has to count for something..."

She isn't really sure how to respond after that. It's true that seeing this man in front of her for the first time in years has brought back a wave of feelings that she'd repressed and even experienced with someone new.

But it's also true that with those feelings comes an inevitable aftertaste of bitterness. He'd left her, decided ultimately that his career was more important to him, and now that she has someone new he's asking her to leave behind this peace she's found. And for what? For him? What's to stop him from leaving again, or deciding years or months down the road that he'd made a mistake and gotten her to leave her one shot at happiness after him?

Nonetheless, she sits with him for hours, listening to him explain... Giving him a chance.

He apologizes for the past, he promises to do better in the future, and in between he makes her laugh. Their hands brush, their breaths mingle as they huddle from the cold, and with every passing minute, the cardigan on her shoulders becomes looser and more forgotten.

Slowly but surely, he's lowering her defenses and gaining her trust. He's showing her bits and pieces of the man she fell in love with until they're laughing at close to 3am.

And then, for a moment, it's quiet. Absolutely quiet, save for the crickets and the soft rolling of the creek behind them.

Y/N almost lets him kiss her then.

But then her heart hammers in her chest, and not in a good way. Suddenly, she's imagining the pure heartbreak that would surely manifest on her fiancée's face if he found out- if she really decided to leave him for this old flame that had barely started to kindle once again years later.

She has to be absolutely certain of her decision.

So she pulls back and wraps her fiancée's cardigan tightly around her arms. "I should go home."

There's disappointment in his eyes, and it twists her gut a little. "Right... Um... I-I can take you back, if you want."

"No, I, uh... I think I'm gonna walk. I have to think."

Y/N avoids his gaze just quickly enough that she doesn't see the disappointment in his eyes fizzle into a tiny sliver of hope.

Rain on the sidewalk, doubt in her mind. One thing's for sure, she's running out of time To decide what's right, And who's heart she's willing to break.

She climbs into bed some time later, the cardigan still wrapped tightly around her body, and she can't quite bring herself to face the man sleeping next to her. It feels wrong, like somehow she's betrayed him by even thinking of spending the rest of her life with another person. She doesn't feel worthy of his love.

When she wakes up the next morning, she'd somehow ended up facing him anyway. He's staring at her with adoring eyes, and under his gaze she can't help the guilt that washes over her.

"Quit looking at me like that..."

Her words are grumbly and soft because of having just woken up, and because her face is half hidden behind blankets and his cardigan, her fiancée doesn't know anything is wrong.

Instead, he laughs. "What, you're beautiful... And before you start arguing with me, yes, you're even beautiful when you wake up."

She only grumbles, feeling anything but.

It's quiet for a moment or two before he speaks again. "You're wearing my cardigan..."

Peeking her eyes out from the mountain of fabric, she can see the enchantment in his eyes and it makes her warm. "I was cold..."

While true, she mostly means I had cold feet.

"Come here."

Two simple words, two syllables, and yet it's the softest declaration of love she's ever heard. Her body instinctively nestles into his, face going straight into the crook of his neck while he wraps her up in his arms.

"There," he says, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You feel warmer yet?"

"Mhm..." She sighs into his skin and then takes in a deep breath.

He smells like home.

He feels like home.

And as he starts softly humming her favorite song, rubbing soothing circles into her back as he holds her close, Y/N wonders why she'd ever doubted her love for him.

He is home.

James never was.

Y/N burrows herself further into Spencer's body and plants a gentle kiss to his neck, shivering slightly at the way his curly locks tickle her temple.

He stops humming and laughs. "What are you feeling for breakfast?"

"Hmmm... You." She articulates her point by selfishly kissing his neck, reminiscent of Cookie Monster.

Pretty soon, the two of them are laughing together, limbs tangling and breaths mingling, and then an hour and a half later they're in the kitchen, sipping on coffee.

As its warmth radiates through her throat and chest, Y/N studies him from across the room. He flips through pages of a book as he drinks his coffee, and for a brief moment, his eyes flick up to see her staring.

The action brings a smile to both their faces, and Y/N has never felt happier.

She's never felt more loved.

***

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[thatonegaytheaterkid]

Confession Under the Stars

 Pairing- Zhongli x male reader

⚠️Warnings⚠️- none

Requests are: OPEN

Proofread: nope

A/n: ok, so just to make sure that ya’ll don’t think I’m dead I wrote this for ya’ll to know i’m still alive ✊😌 also this was written at 1am so it probably has some mistakes 😪

-

-

You were on your way to complete a commission from the Adventurers guild to take out a guard near Lingju Pass, while on your way there, you stopped for a minute just to take in the tranquility in the air surrounding you, not like you were any rush. It’s not like you were in Liyue every day, usually you’d be doing commissions for the guild in Mondstadt, so whenever you were in Liyue you’d make sure to take in most of the scenery that it had to offer.  

While exhaling some of the fresh air, all of a sudden you see a meteorite falling from the sky at an alarmingly fast rate. It wasn’t just everyday you saw a whole meteor just casually falling from the sky, right? So what’s the harm in taking a closer look, you thought.

After following where you saw it fall to, you ended up into what looked like it used to be a hilichurl camp. However, instead of finding a meteorite like you had expected, you ended up seeing a tall man with long hair and crossed-arms standing in the middle of all the decay, no meteor in sight.

You were trying to figure out where the over-sized rock could have possibly gone, it’s not like it could be anywhere else, you knew for a fact that it had to be somewhere around the camp. 

Your best chance of finding out where it could have fallen was by asking the man who most likely knew exactly where it would be since it basically fell directly where he was standing. So that’s exactly what you did, tapping lightly on one of his shoulders you asked him where it had fallen. 

And that’s when he turned around. 

Wow, just wow, he had looks of a god. His long black-to-gold fading hair flowing in the wind along with the black and gold suit that he seemed to be dressed head to toe in, and his facial features were just- damn, he looked as if he were chiseled from the finest stone in all of Teyvat. After seeing him for more than two seconds you ended up just spacing out while admiring his tantalizing facial features, and if that wasn’t enough, his voice, his voice, it was just so deep and soothing it was all you could think about, completely disregarding everything he said to you in that moment, all you ended up processing in that moment was something to do with geo and something else about his elemental burst but you couldn’t really make it out. 

 “So what might your name be?” he asked 

“Huh, o-oh!, my name’s (Y/n)!” you sputtered out while breaking out of your little trance. “And, um, yours?” you tilted your head in a questioning manner.

“Zhongli, a pleasure to meet you, (Y/n) was it?” 

“Y-yep, that’s it!” you answered. 

“Well, it was a pleasure to meet your acquaintance (Y/n), however, I must be on my way now, I do hope we meet again in the future” Zhongli said in a polite tone while walking away with an elegant wave and a small smile plastered on his face. 

All you could do was just wave back at him as you saw him walking away, nearly forgetting about completing your commission then heading on your way to the ruins. 

-

It had only been a few days since your little encounter with Zhongli, he was all you could think about for the past few days afterwards meeting him, you could have sworn you’ve hear his name be thrown around here and there, it usually always involved the Wangshen Funeral Parlor. “Maybe that’s where he works?” you thought. You had a few friends in Liyue, maybe you could ask them about him? 

“Mr Zhongli? I know him” Childe stated “What about him?”, “I met him a few days ago and I wanna know more about him. So, what’s he like?” you asked. “Curious as always I see, hmn, well, he works at Wangsheng Funeral Parlour, he’s really calm and patient with people, Ooo and he’s really smart too, you can ask him about literally anything and he could go on and on about it for hours until you stop him, but no matter how smart he may seem, he’s always forgetting to bring his Mora anywhere he goes, it’s always a hassle going anywhere with him” “And that’s pretty much all you need to know about him” 

“Yeah that sounds like about enough, thanks Tartag!”  “No problem comrade! I still owe you for when you paid for my lunch last week so guess now we’re even” Childe grinned as you both said your goodbyes and headed in opposite directions. 

“Hm, so he’s level-headed and forgetful when it comes to Mora, noted” you mumbled to yourself while in deep thought. Walking around Liyue Harbour you accidentally bumped into someone while concentrating and forgetting to pay attention to your surroundings. 

“Gah, I’m sorry! I wasn’t paying attention to where I was go...ing, it- it’s you again!”  

“Ah, (Y/n), good bumping into you again, I do hope you’re alright?”

“You remembered my name, I’m kind of surprised” you chuckled. “Yeah I’m alright, no need to worry” you went on. 

“That’s good to hear, say, I was just on my way to a nearby tea house, would you care to come along with me?”

“I- are you sure? Wouldn’t I just be disrupting you?”

“No, on the contrary, you would be doing quite the opposite, I’d like to chat with you over a cup of tea if you’re not already busy.”

“I-uh, sure, why not?” 

“Wonderful, now follow me, we must be on our way” He said with a smile.

-

The walk the two of you had while heading to the tea house was silent but it was a comfortable silence, like the two of you were already quite fond of each other, which you were. 

“It seems as though we have arrived at our destination, after you” He said as he opened the door for you. “Thank you” you said as you entered. 

The smell of freshly brewed tea was now hitting your senses making you feel more at ease. “The scent in here is wonderful” you said while taking a seat facing Zhongli’s. “Indeed, now, how about we order some tea, I’ve been told that the ingredients that they use here are gathered fresh everyday.” He stated in a ‘matter-of-fact’ tone. 

It didn’t take long for both of you to start up a conversation. Of course, Zhongli was the first to start talking and it didn’t take long for you to follow in suit. You both had ended up talking to one another for hours on end and had already become good friends in such a short time. It was only when you both realised that the sun was no longer up was when you both decided that it was now time to leave.

“Ah, it seems that the sun has set, I think it may be time we be on our way.” He said in a slightly disappointed tone. ”I didn’t even realise that the sun went down” you chuckled. “You’re right, it does seem like it’s time to leave” you said also trying to hide your slight disappointment. 

“Now time to pay for th-” he paused reaching into his pocket. “Ahem” clearing his voice. “It seems as though I may have forgotten to bring my Mora.” He said trying to hide his embarrassment.

“It’s fine, I’ll pay” you said with a slight chuckle remembering that this is exactly what Childe had described. “Thank you (Y/n), I must apologise about forgetting to remember to bring my Mora with me, it always seems to slip past my memory” he said with a hand covering his face.

“No, no, don’t worry about it, it happens every once in a while” you brushed it off. “Yes, ‘every once in a while’” He said in an almost inaudible mumble to himself. 

“Well, as it has already gotten late I suppose this is where we part ways, I hope to see you next time then” He indicated as he shook your hand as a farewell. “Yeah, until next time” you said with a smile then parted ways. 

Wait. 

Did he just say next time?

‘So, then that means that there’s gonna be a next time’ you thought, as a smile silently ushered its way onto your lips. 

-

It had been a few months after both you and Zhongli had this small interaction. It didn’t take long after you both had started to meet up every once in a while.

 It started off with just walking into each other more often in certain parts of Liyue and having small conversations with one another while walking to whatever place either of you were headed, then eventually you both started to meet up at the docks and would just spend the rest of both your evenings in each others presence while striking up conversations about Rex Lapis and the other archons. Safe to say you ended up staying in Liyue for longer than you had originally anticipated.

It didn’t take long before you both turned into close friends, you were both fascinated by each other and kept wanting to be around one another any chance you got. 

You liked listening to him talk, and not just because of his soothing voice, you thoroughly enjoyed hearing him go on and on about every and anything, both his and your knowledge was quite vast so you never had a dull conversation.

 Conversations would range from topics like where the name from a specific flower originated from, to both of your opinions on the Liyue Quixing. Talking with him never got boring, there was always something that either one of you would say that would strike up a whole new topic to uncover. The more you both spoke the more intrigued you would become in one another, it was always interesting hearing about what both your opinions were on certain things, even if you both would sometimes see things in an entirely different light, but that was the fun in it, uncovering more and more small hidden details about each other.

Being in his presence always made you feel more relaxed, he gave off this aura in which you felt safe and at peace in, it reminded you of a piece of silk flowing in the breeze. It was calming. 

-

Now cut to the present time you’re both in.

Both you and Zhongli are watching over Liyue Harbour in the moonlight enjoying the sight of the lantern light illuminating the docks off the top of Mount Tienhung while dangling your feet off the edge of the mountain. 

For once, neither of you were talking. You were both just sitting in a peaceful silence basking in the breathtaking view of the harbor. However, it wasn’t the harbor that Zhongli seemed to be looking at, no, he was far more interested in you. 

All he could be focused on in that moment was how all your features seemed to light up under the moonlit sky, the luminescent lighting made you look almost as if you were glowing. You looked divine. All he could think about was how handsome it made you look. For the first time, Zhongli was at loss for words. Looking at you in this moment made it seem like time was no longer existent, as if everything just...stopped. All that was on his mind was just you. There was nothing else that wanted to enter his mind other than you. Your laugh, your smile, your thoughts, just everything. 

This wasn’t the first time he’s caught himself thinking of you at such an extent. It had been happening for the past couple of weeks and he hadn’t a clue on why. All that happened was that he’d see you and suddenly everything around him just seemed to stop, like you were the only being in the universe. The only thing moving. 

He started to question himself when he wasn’t with you. Why did he have such strong emotions when it came to you? Why didn’t he feel this way towards anyone else? Why did his stomach do backflips when he was with you? Why did he now feel the need to impress you more? 

Just...why?

He had so many questions and yet he didn’t have a single answer. It was only when he was walking through the streets of Liyue when he accidentally overheard a couple telling each other “I love you” to one another when the answer had hit him like a dendro slime on the back of the head. 

That. That  was the answer he was looking for. Was he...in love?

 At first he was in denial, “No, no, that couldn’t possibly be it” he thought. But the more he thought about it, the more and more it finally made sense. The backflips you would cause his stomach to make every time he was around you, the way the world would just stop, it was all because of this simple reason. 

Zhongli was in love with you. 

He knew he had to come clean about his feelings towards you eventually, so what was a better time than now? 

Breaking out from his trance, he cleared his throat and began speaking.

“(Y/n), there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about lately” he said with a bit of nervousness creeping up on him. 

“Of course, what is it? You know you can tell me anything, right?” you told him with a reassuring  smile. 

Just you giving him a small smile was enough to give him the confidence he greatly needed. 

With a deep breath in and out he then began to speak once more, “As of late, I’ve been having these.. feelings towards you... feelings that I can’t really explain” “They are like an extremely strong, admiration? No, that’s not it, that’s not it at all” he gulped swallowing all of his pride. 

“(Y/n), I’m in love with you”

“I know that you may not feel the same towards me, howeve-” he said as he got cut off by you, as you used all the courage you could muster in that moment, and grabbed his chin and began to kiss him.

It had seemed like the world had stopped right then and there, All he could feel was just pure bliss, it felt amazing, his heart was beating so fast it felt as if it was going to pop out from his chest. He was a blushing mess. This was the first time you had ever seen him so vulnerable before.

As he eased in to the kiss he began to feel more at peace, Everything was perfect. 

After a bit you both stopped to finally grasp some air. Breathing in and out you looked at him and said, “Y’know what’s funny? I’ve felt the same about you ever since we first met” giving out a small chuckle. 

Eyes wide with surprise Zhongli felt like he had just been slapped in the face. How did he not know?! It was only that since you told him that it had now been obvious from the start. 

The way your gaze would linger on him and all your expressions would just soften a bit or how you’d always blush when he would compliment you, it made so much sense now. How in Rex Lapis’ name could he not have realised sooner? 

It made him wish he could get striked by his meteor because of his utter obliviousness, while groaning to himself he heard a laugh from you right next to him. 

“Hahaha! Sorry, sorry, I think it’s funny how you’re just now realising” you said trying to control your laughter. “You look cute when your oblivious” saying while rubbing a small tear from your eye. 

 Seeing you laugh was was like euphoria to him, it made him feel so warm inside.

And then that was until he reminded himself why you were laughing and went back to his frowning, which made you laugh even more...great.

“Hey, hey, there’s no need to feel like that” you told him in a sing-song voice while still trying to keep your composure. “It doesn’t matter anymore so best not think about it right?” you said while resting your head on his shoulder to try and calm him down. 

The rest of the night was absolutely perfect. The two of you ended up just snuggling up next to each other for the rest of the night, staying in each others arms until you fell asleep and he had to take you home bridal style.

Taglist- @aizawaslovebot @mizunetzu​​ @anormalguyreader​ If you wanna be added just ask or dm me and I’ll be sure to add you!~

[animeyanderelover]

Can we get Yandere Mafia Levi going after the naive Starbucks barista?

Mafia Levi? Alright, modern AU then.

Tw: Yandere themes, stalking, possessiveness, obsessiveness, threatening, manipulating, killing, kidnapping

Mafia Levi going after the naive Starbucks barista s/o

⚔️Do you ever notice the handsome man who keeps visiting your shop? You might, who doesn’t notice a handsome man with sharp features. But besides that, do you ever notice the other things? Do you notice how he always only seems to come when it’s your shift? Do you ever question yourself why he only gives you a huge tip? That he always stares at you? And this scary and intense look he gives everyone who touches you or flirts with you? And do you ever notice that all of them only shortly after either get in huge financial problems or die due to an “accident”. Do you notice how he keeps squeezing himself in your life?

⚔️First of all, who is this man even? It’s Levi Ackerman, the man who is feared in the whole country and worldwide known. A face and name who only very few people saw and heard and even less who came out alive after seeing him. He has a huge number of pawns working under him even though most of them don’t even know his real face. Only the most loyal people, people he trusts know under him, also known as his personal squad. He’s known to be merciless to his enemies, brutal and vicious to everyone who stands in his way. But is that true?

⚔️Whilst many call him a “devil”, there are also some who label him as a modern “Robin Hood”. Because what many don’t know is that Levi donates on a daily base a huge amount of money to poor cities and people who were left behind by society. He himself was abandoned by the rich, often had to beg in order to get at least a bit of money. But in the end he couldn’t save his mother, dying from starvation and terrible hygiene, drinking dirty water and often eating thrown away food. He knows how these people feel, living in such a modern world and still having to suffer like this. And he wants to help such people because he knows that no one else will. Despite being a mafia there are also many things he doesn’t want to interact with, leading to many criminals calling him a honorable man. He witnessed the impact of drugs back in his childhood, how it ruined people and decided to never do business involving this slow killer. Whilst very cruel with police men and every task force going after him, he also always tries to not get too many innocent involved because he also knows that not all people are bad, back in the day remembering that some people bought for him and his mother food, some more than just once.

⚔️He also, despite being very harsh, also made sure that people who worked under him, most likely people who had gone to similar shit in their pasts like him, were taken care of as well as their families, making him desired, many people wanting to work for him. But there were special conditions that someone had to fulfill. No drugs, body hygiene and undying loyalty. Because if you betrayed him, he would finish you off mercilessly and stop caring for your family. That was the dark side of him.

⚔️So how managed Levi, a man who had the blood of tons of people on his hands, to fall for you, a rather naive Starbucks barista? Call him crazy because you most likely don’t remember, but you two actually met before back in childhood. You were one of those people who often bought him stuff, be that pastries, sweets or other take away food, letting him choose what he wanted and paying with your own money. Levi never forgot such a kind act, especially not since at that time it was so rare for him to experience friendliness. He never forgot your name, having asked personally for it. And whilst he admitted that he didn’t recognize you at first when one day walking just in the shop, the lightbulb went on in his head when hearing one of the co-workers calling your name, the nagging suspicion that he had seen you somewhere before suddenly making sense. So you were that child from back then!

⚔️Levi wanted to thank you, but couldn’t. There was no guarantee that you even remembered him and there was also the danger that if people would find out that you knew him they would be after you, meaning troubles for him and that would made you a threat he would have to remove, something he didn’t want to do. So instead of thanking you, he just set for transferring a not small amount of money to your account as a kind of payback for your kindness.

⚔️But there was also this certain curiosity in him. Had you changed during all this time? Or were you still the same? You were the first person he had ever met who he still remembered so clearly. It was supposed to be just another small visit to observe you a bit, that was all it should have been.

⚔️So the next time he visited, he sat down, planning to stay for a bit longer and to observe you a bit closer. And in a way he felt relieved that you still were such a unaffected and innocent person, of course a bit too naive, but still the same. In a way Levi was impressed that you really hadn’t changed a bit, still this same childlike grin and more bouncy personality.

⚔️Everything went well, it was just supposed to be a small visit. And that’s all it had been to Levi. That was until he planned to go, but just about as he was to go, you suddenly called after him to wait and give you a moment of his time. At first he was a bit confused to why you wanted to talk to him, but turned around nevertheless, asking you confused what you wanted. And that’s when you said something that shocked him. You asked if you knew him from somewhere, after rubbing your head embarrassed admitting that you reminded him of a kid back then, he might look healthier and have more weight than the child you were referring to, but there were still a lot of similarities. You had never forgotten about that child and just wanted to know if he was by now alright or not, knowing that he had lived under poor conditions.

⚔️For a short second Levi was too shocked to reply, not believing that you still remembered him before mentally slapping himself and declining your offer, telling you that you must confuse him with someone, making you laugh embarrassed and apologize for the sudden interruption, storming back to the store. And Levi watched you for a while longer before continuing his own way, but his mind was in that moment by you. You remembered him! Remembered an insignificant kid for whom many person hadn’t given a care. But after so many years you still remembered and you still cared, making a warm and fuzzy feeling erupt in Levi’s chest. Maybe another visit wouldn’t be too bad?

⚔️One more visit became two, two became three, three became four and very soon he was referred to you as your “loyal guest” since he always came when you were working, Levi having gotten access to your work plans in no time. You two often chatted a bit with each other, Levi often coming when you were about to close to walk a bit with you and get to know you better before having to go his separate way. And you never failed to make his heart flutter, Levi found himself often stunned by how childish you really had remained, often throwing childish tantrums and pouting and sulking when something didn’t go your way. It led Levi to often scolding you slightly that you should start acting like a grownup when in reality he actually liked this behavior of yours. It gave him a feeling of ease, to know that you hadn’t changed at all.

⚔️Levi knew that he wasn’t supposed to enjoy this as much as he did, knew that if the wrong people would find out that you had a connection to him, you would get in huge danger. And he had tried one time before to stop, he really had. But two things had changed his mind. First of all his mind had killed him, his emotions screaming at him to go back. And when he had come back you had nudged him playfully and afterwards poured, saying in a hurt tone that you had missed him. You really were feeding his dark desires, weren’t you? Did you even know who he really was? That he could turn your whole life upside down?

⚔️The more Levi was pulled into this sinister rabbit hole called obsession, the more possessive and stricter he got with you. He started showing his dislike when he saw other people talking to you, walked you now home and even started telling you that you should stay away from certain persons since he got a bad feeling about them. Secretly he felt bad for manipulating you like this, but he couldn’t help. You were his! He wouldn’t let anyone else have you!

⚔️Of course there were moments where he couldn’t be with you due to personal business, but in such moments one it two of his most talented and trusted members were always watching you, knowing too well about their boss’s obsession with you since it was always their job to collect information about you plus they had seen the happiness and love in Levi’s eyes whenever he had spent time with you.

⚔️Levi knows that you two are like lion and mouse, he’s dangerous for you and found endanger your whole life. So at first he would try to start a normal relationship with you, removing every potential rival and gaining all informations on your likings and how to properly court you, even going as far as setting scenarios up where he’ll save you from dangerous situations and make himself look like a hero and if you fall naturally for him, at least at first nothing might look wrong.

⚔️But there are a couple of possibilities to why he could kidnap you. If someone on who’s bad dude he got finds out about you, if you yourself figure it out, reject him or when his possessiveness and paranoia that something might happen to you even after you were willing to start a relationship with him. There will come a time where Levi will take you away from your safe and secure home. He knows that isn’t right, he knows that he shouldn’t do this. But if he would leave you behind and something might happen to you, he would make the world burn.

⚔️If you already know that he’s a mafia, Levi would also tell you that he actually lied to you and is the kid from back then, shattering most likely all your trust in him and causing you to not believe that the small and helpless boy turned into such a powerful and cruel man, even you having heard from this famous and mysterious mafia.

⚔️Levi would never leave your side and if he does, he always has some members of his squad with you which would be the only ones who are allowed to know about your existence. He has a couple of trackers on you, so small that the human eye can’t see them, but deadly affective. He will find you, no matter how far away you are.

⚔️Prepare yourself to often move around, the life of the mafia including to change destination quite often, Levi always making sure to keep a tight security around you. He’s more understanding if you should distance yourself from him after finding out the truth, accepting it to give you more space and let you calm down. But do remember that he hasn’t the best string of patience and at one point will become more aggressive with his behavior. You brat want to act like a child? Fine then, he’ll treat you like one!

⚔️Despite all of this you would be his biggest weakness, his soft spot which can and will break him if you would die. Because Levi would be totally devastated, bottling his emotions up before exploding at one point. It’s better if no one even dares to hurt his darling because Levi will not only strangle this person barehanded, but also wipe out every single person they loved. Only so they know how he would feel if someone would take you away from him.

[kellyvela]

Hi! I wanted to ask you something. Jon and Sansa thinking about having children and having domestic life with their respective partners is a strong foreshadowing for jonsa. Then there was Jeyne W who also told Cat that Robb was going to name their firstborn after Ned. While Robb is dead, it's not sure if jeyne is pregnant. Sansa didn't married to Willas and Jon will not gonna steal Val. Do you think it's foreshadowing something?

Before actually answering your question, I think we can't compare Robb and Jeyne, who willingly married, actively tried to have a baby, and were arguably in love, to Sansa and Willas (they never met, they never married, they weren't in love), and Jon and Val (they never had sex, they never married, they weren't in love).

Also, while having the wish to name their children after their late father and siblings, Sansa couldn't stop thinking about Loras, not Willas; and Jon wished Ygritte were alive so he could marry her instead of Val.

And Loras is a stand in for Jon the same way Ygritte is an stand in for Sansa.

. . .

"A king must have an heir."

Jeyne Westerling told Catelyn that Robb was going to name their firstborn after Ned???

Are you talking about this passage???

"Jeyne," she called after, "there's one more thing Robb needs from you, though he may not know it yet himself. A king must have an heir."

The girl smiled at that. "My mother says the same. She makes a posset for me, herbs and milk and ale, to help make me fertile. I drink it every morning. I told Robb I'm sure to give him twins. An Eddard and a Brandon. He liked that, I think. We . . . we try most every day, my lady. Sometimes twice or more." The girl blushed very prettily. "I'll be with child soon, I promise. I pray to our Mother Above, every night."

—A Storm of Swords - Catelyn III

Because it was Jeyne who told Catelyn that she (Jeyne) was sure to give Robb twins to be named Eddard and Brandon, and that she thought Robb liked her idea (Jeyne's idea).

We don't know if Jeyne Westerling was, at some point, pregnant or not.

With all the Tully super fertility references, Jeyne could have been pregnant, but, as you can read in the quote above, her mother Sybell Spicer was giving her an abortifacient all the time, and sadly, that's what happened to Lysa Tully in the past... That's why a guilty Hoster Tully repeats "Tansy" in his sickbed several times, since "Tansy" was an ingredient of the abortifacient that Lysa took all those years ago...

The Lannister not only plotted to kill the King in the North, but also to prevent that said king have an heir... Sybell Spicer and the abortifacient were part of the plot.

And if there was still the slightest chance that Jeyne was pregnant with Robb Stark's heir, the Lannister would not hesitate to kill the unborn child and the mother, if necessary.

Actually, I'm afraid that in the next Book Jeyne Westerling will die anyway...

Now, Robb also used the same phrase "A king must have an heir." while later talking with Catelyn about the North's Succession, and guess who were the ones actively mentioned during that conversation? Any thoughts?

The answering is, a "Lady Lannister" (lol) and a "bastard Snow". Let's see:

"I had hoped to leave Jeyne with child . . . we tried often enough, but I'm not certain . . ."

"It does not always happen the first time." Though it did with you. "Nor even the hundredth. You are very young."

"Young, and a king," he said. "A king must have an heir. If I should die in my next battle, the kingdom must not die with me. By law Sansa is next in line of succession, so Winterfell and the north would pass to her." His mouth tightened. "To her, and her lord husband. Tyrion Lannister. I cannot allow that. I will not allow that. That dwarf must never have the north."

"No," Catelyn agreed. "You must name another heir, until such time as Jeyne gives you a son." She considered a moment. "Your father's father had no siblings, but his father had a sister who married a younger son of Lord Raymar Royce, of the junior branch. They had three daughters, all of whom wed Vale lordlings. A Waynwood and a Corbray, for certain. The youngest . . . it might have been a Templeton, but . . ."

“Mother.” There was a sharpness in Robb’s tone. “You forget. My father had four sons.”

She had not forgotten; she had not wanted to look at it, yet there it was. “A Snow is not a Stark.”

“Jon’s more a Stark than some lordlings from the Vale who have never so much as set eyes on Winterfell.”

“Jon is a brother of the Night’s Watch, sworn to take no wife and hold no lands. Those who take the black serve for life.”

“So do the knights of the Kingsguard. That did not stop the Lannisters from stripping the white cloaks from Ser Barristan Selmy and Ser Boros Blount when they had no more use for them. If I send the Watch a hundred men in Jon’s place, I’ll wager they find some way to release him from his vows.”

He is set on this. Catelyn knew how stubborn her son could be. “A bastard cannot inherit.”

“Not unless he’s legitimized by a royal decree,” said Robb. “There is more precedent for that than for releasing a Sworn Brother from his oath.”

“Precedent,” she said bitterly. “Yes, Aegon the Fourth legitimized all his bastards on his deathbed. And how much pain, grief, war, and murder grew from that? I know you trust Jon. But can you trust his sons? Or their sons? The Blackfyre pretenders troubled the Targaryens for five generations, until Barristan the Bold slew the last of them on the Stepstones. If you make Jon legitimate, there is no way to turn him bastard again. Should he wed and breed, any sons you may have by Jeyne will never be safe.”

“Jon would never harm a son of mine.”

“No more than Theon Greyjoy would harm Bran or Rickon?”

Grey Wind leapt up atop King Tristifer’s crypt, his teeth bared. Robb’s own face was cold. “That is as cruel as it is unfair. Jon is no Theon.”

“So you pray. Have you considered your sisters? What of their rights? I agree that the north must not be permitted to pass to the Imp, but what of Arya? By law, she comes after Sansa … your own sister, trueborn …”

“… and dead. No one has seen or heard of Arya since they cut Father’s head off. Why do you lie to yourself? Arya’s gone, the same as Bran and Rickon, and they’ll kill Sansa too once the dwarf gets a child from her. Jon is the only brother that remains to me. Should I die without issue, I want him to succeed me as King in the North. I had hoped you would support my choice.”

“I cannot,” she said. “In all else, Robb. In everything. But not in this … this folly. Do not ask it.”

“I don’t have to. I’m the king.” Robb turned and walked off, Grey Wind bounding down from the tomb and loping after him.

—A Storm of Swords - Catelyn V

As you can see from the quote above, Robb and Catelyn were pushing to prevent Sansa or Jon from inheriting Winterfell and the North after Robb. For Robb, the problem was that Sansa was "Lady Lannister," and for Catelyn, the problem was that Jon was a bastard "Snow," and a brother of the Night's Watch.

Ironically, Robb ended up losing Winterfell and the North, and it will be precisely Sansa (the Lannister by marriage) and Jon (the bastard Snow) the ones retaking the ancestral seat and all the lands of House Stark, and I suspect they will do it together.

Indeed, Robb and Catelyn's conversation is also very telling because Robb said: "By law Sansa is next in line of succession, so Winterfell and the north would pass to her". But since Sansa was married to Tyrion Lannister, Robb had to name another heir, Jon.

Robb's reasoning is a contrast to Jon's reaction to the offer of getting Winterfell and the North.  Stannis Baratheon used the same argument (Sansa's marriage to Tyrion Lannister) to convince Jon to accept his offer to become a legitimized Stark and Lord of Winterfell, Stannis even called Sansa “Lady Lannister”, but no matter what, Jon didn’t accept Stannis's offer.

And what was Jon's answer?

“By right Winterfell should go to my sister Sansa.”

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon I

Jon said, “Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa.”

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon IV

Beautiful, isn't it?

And Jon and Sansa could also produce a new generation of Starks, honoring their late relatives by naming their children Eddard, Robb and Catelyn, the ones that are actually dead, because fortunately Arya, Bran and Rickon are still alive, even if Jon and Sansa believe they are all dead.

She pictured the two of them sitting together in a garden with puppies in their laps, or listening to a singer strum upon a lute while they floated down the Mander on a pleasure barge. If I give him sons, he may come to love me. She would name them Eddard and Brandon and Rickon, and raise them all to be as valiant as Ser Loras. And to hate Lannisters, too. In Sansa's dreams, her children looked just like the brothers she had lost. Sometimes there was even a girl who looked like Arya.

—A Storm of Swords - Sansa II

I would need to steal her if I wanted her love, but she might give me children. I might someday hold a son of my own blood in my arms. A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall. I could name him Robb. Val would want to keep her sister's son, but we could foster him at Winterfell, and Gilly's boy as well. Sam would never need to tell his lie. We'd find a place for Gilly too, and Sam could come visit her once a year or so. Mance's son and Craster's would grow up brothers, as I once did with Robb.

—A Storm of Swords - Jon XII

Be still my beating heart!

. . .

So if you're wondering if the sad fate of Jeyne Westerling and Robb, who had a similar wish to Sansa and Jon's wishes, to name their children after their late father and siblings, could mean something negative for Jon and Sansa in the future. The answer is no.

[wincore]

vixen | nakamoto yuta

pairing: kitsune!yuta x female!reader

words: 5.1k 

summary: every year, you visit the fox who claims to know everything about you. 

genre: fantasy/folklore, fluff, angst(?)

warnings: suggestive, mention of past bullying, one excessively flirty nakamoto yuta

song rec(s): clear and sunny - sou (cover)

a/n: this is for all you furries who aren’t quite furries yet muah (im joking) but aaaa love exploring folklore and also i should put in a disclaimer that not every aspect adheres to the original tales of the kitsune <3 i did not proofread btw and i am very sorry

Some things never change.

Examples: boys, shitty friends, death, and the scent of nostalgia. To you, that very scent happens to be the earthy smell of chrysanthemums and a faint waft of spices from the kitchen in your parents’ house. To you, October is not just another month. To you, there is one more thing that never changes and it is not your belief in old ghost stories. 

Around this time of the year, the autumn festival begins in a flurry of vibrant red smudges and a whiff of excitement, in streets suddenly brought alive. The skies are candied orange, and it’s the only time you aren’t tired of home. This time is also when you find yourself right in the clutches of the one demon you swore you’d avoid for the rest of your life. You swore. It’s not your fault that said demon is a little, let’s say, tempting. 

Tempting in the most vexing, infuriating way possible. Bewitching, cruel, seducing—all that foxes are and all that you’ve heard of them could not have prepared you for an encounter. Folklore runs deep through you. The memories of a certain fox-boy run deeper. 

It is not the festival you are here for. 

You yawn, leaning against the wooden door frame of the shop. It would be inappropriate to fall asleep on the job, especially since there are a bunch of children staring idly at you. You close your mouth quickly, resting the back of your hand against your lips. Late afternoon is an easy time to fall asleep. You have half the mind to snarl at the kids to scare them off, their gaze getting on your nerves and when you think you will, you turn the other way. Manners come first to you, no matter how temperamental you get. 

The procession has gathered a crowd. Some shouts and squeals from the children make you slump further. At least they’re having fun with whatever stupid game they’re playing. You breathe in the autumn air. A part of you wonders if you simply let your feet lead you down the stairs, you’d be free of this entire ordeal. You shake your head. Temptation has always been hard to resist—never meant to be resisted but you’re much older now. There is dignity to be answered.

October is mild—your grandmother’s shop is still on the verge of collapse, your mother still yells at you for misplacing kitchen utensils and your old friends from school still gossip about who you’re dating. It’s like the script never changes; people change the meaning, twist their words in the same old pattern. If you were a little less behaved, you would have poured your drink over their heads yesterday. 

You clench your jaw. It’s always an ‘Oh, you’re so attractive’ and an ‘I wish I could date as many men as you do but I’m loyal to my boyfriend’, or even a ‘Must be nice being surrounded by boys all the time’. You know what they mean. It’s not the first time you’ve been called a fox, and you don’t think it’ll be the last—at least until you decide to stop letting your hometown suffocate you. Maybe you’ll accept what they say. You have heard of what hatred left unchecked can do.

If you’re honest, you haven’t been with too many men. If you’re a little more honest, none of them have ever made your heart race.

You watch the children play with a keen eye, their painted masks ridiculously large for their faces and in brightly coloured clothes contrasting well with the town. You might not be allowed to fall asleep, but there’s nothing against closing your eyes for a second or two.

The image of glinting yellow eyes and a fanged smile pop up and you quickly open your eyes. You don’t know why your heart beats so loud at the mere thought of him, thoughts in which his lips are full and painted red, and his bright smile is stretched upon them. Sometimes, the thought of him is in gentle washes, his hand fixing your hair, or a flirty smile when you dare stumble upon him on a particularly sleepless night. You shake your head to get rid of the thought. That is not love. Some sort of embarrassing attraction, maybe. However, the friendship you have is worse.

“I see you’re a slacker as always.”

Your grandmother’s voice breaks you out of your cycle of thoughts and you’re almost grateful.

“I sold approximately zero sweets,” you snort. “Why can’t we just do away with the shop?”

“You’re starting to sound like your mother,” your grandma calls from behind one of the counters, distaste ringing clear in her voice. 

You sigh. “Fine, but… you work way too hard to make these for them to not sell.”

“Maybe they would sell if a certain little lady would stay and help.”

You groan, leaning your head back. “You know I have work in the city.”

Your grandmother waves her hand about, dismissing your reasoning. She fiddles around in the shadows for a bit before coming forward with more boxes than she should be able to hold.

“You don’t have to feel too guilty. Yuta’s been helping out,” your grandmother informs fondly. “You could learn a thing or two from him.”

You’re not the superstitious sort and yet still, your heart beats faster. For him, or for the bad omens foxes bring to a household—you don’t know.

You scoff instead. “He’s not as great a guy as you think, grandma. He can be really mean too!”

“Oh, I doubt that. Have you seen his smile? Impossible.” Your grandmother waves it off before drawing nearer, voice hushed without reason. “Have you thought about it then? He is handsome, isn’t he?”

“Grandma.”

You’re not sure what old women go through in their youth that makes them something of a matchmaker in their later years. You think the whole ordeal is messed up. There is no way you’re going to stick your nose into your grandchildren’s love life; it’s gross.

“These should be enough for the children, no?” Your grandmother asks and you look up.

“You’re giving them away for free?” you question, furrowing your eyebrows. “And you talk about bad business.”

She places her hand on her hip, pointing an accusatory finger. “You’re going to lecture your grandmother?”

You raise your hands up in defeat, standing up to help her with the red boxes of acorn candy and paper wraps of roasted chestnuts. You end up with the entire load in your arms, your grandmother happily shuffling about as she locks up the store.

You turn sharply at the surprised sound behind you. The evening has settled in and glowing lanterns bring forward the evidence, the darkening streets flooding with round droplets of light.

But it is not the festival you are looking at.

Yuta looks somewhat serene, your cheeks heating up despite yourself. You look at him with bated breath, hoping the boxes obscure your face enough to make the vaguely positive emotions less evident. The dark red jacket draped over his shoulder does not look out of place—in fact, he fits in so well you would’ve mistaken him for another face in the crowd if he weren’t stupidly gorgeous. He looks at you with no strong emotion in the eyes before breaking into a smile; and when his hand strokes the top of your head as a greeting, he seems fond. He always does.

“Grandma,” he calls with his best smile, turning to the old woman.

Your grandmother doesn’t need any more convincing of his character. 

“Oh, there you are! Did I tell you (name)’s back? I wanted to break the news to you earlier. Ah…I must have forgotten.”

You glance from Yuta to her. Is this another one of her tricks and tests?

“She’s always here this time of the year,” he responds, laughing politely.

“Ah, you remembered,” she says, eyes crescent as she smiles back. “Help her with the boxes. The city has made her so frail.”

“I’m good,” you choke on the words, hurriedly moving away and almost dropping one of the boxes.

You slip on your sandals and scurry off faster, wishing he’d just stay behind. He always has. The air makes you shiver but you’re adamant; and it’s not the only trait of yours to make relationships fail.

“You know, you should be nicer to old friends.”

You try not to react when Yuta takes the boxes from you, matching your pace almost effortlessly.

“I thought foxes ran away once they’re found out,” you snap, reluctantly letting him take the packages.

Yuta rolls his eyes. “I see you still aren’t very fond of me.”

“Not when you’re tricking my grandmother like this,” you hiss.

“You call helping trickery?” he retaliates.

“Foxes bring bad business,” you mutter.

“I’m the reason your grandmother’s business is somewhat above the water.”

You sigh, exasperated. There’s no point in wasting your breath. You look away, crossing your arms as you walk, the silence between the two of you suddenly awkward. Even so, you’re not going to open your mouth for him.

“Would you two slow down?” your grandmother calls, voice weary. “We’re already there.”

The two of you halt in your tracks immediately, taking mellow steps back to her. She looks over the two of you with furrowed eyebrows and you try to think of an explanation when she starts laughing.

“Oh, I don’t mind the two of you flirting,” she says, littered with slow laughter. “Just make sure the food is where it’s supposed to be.”

You’re about to refute when Yuta laughs, the sound still boyish and lively. “Of course. (name) missed me so much this year, she couldn’t help herself.”

You give him a pointed look which he ignores, deliberately or not. “We- I wasn’t—”

“Grandmother, if you’ll give us permission,” he interrupts, settling the packages on the table by the food stall and smiling wide. “We’ll go enjoy the festival now.”

She bobs her head in affirmation and Yuta grabs your hand to pull you into the bustling street, your silent plea for help ignored by your smug grandmother.

“What are you doing?” you ask, slipping your hand from his. “You aren’t- You aren’t trying to eat my liver, are you?”

“Why the liver? Can’t I have the rest of you too?”

It’s not like you were particularly alarmed but his response makes you feel a flush of embarrassment.

“It’s been a year since I last saw you,” he says before his voice turns a shade cooler. “Have you thought about my proposal?”

You fall silent. The overthinking started last year too. Your thoughts and dreams, so easily pervaded by him and all it took was one sentence. 

“We should get married.”

“Why did you even think I’d agree to that?” You try not to get too flustered. He knows all your petty weaknesses and you’d rather not have them on display for him to stare and pick at. “What the fuck would I get out of marrying you?”

Yuta whistles. “I like your tongue. But—yes, to answer your question, you’d get a very handsome and capable husband. Your bed will always be warm and oh, speaking of beds—”

You clamp your hand over his mouth at the suggestive look he sends, worried about being spotted by one of your school friends. Ah, right—friends, the very same people that smell of jealousy and won’t miss any opportunity to throw a jab your way. Friends. You can’t believe you’re still afraid of their judgement.

“And why do you want to get married to me?” you ask, looking into his eyes.

There’s a pause, filled with the chatter of the crowd.

“You look like you’re afraid of finding someone,” he speaks finally, ignoring your question. “Or is it the other way around?”

You roll your eyes, ready to walk off when he grabs your wrist to pull you closer to his chest. It draws some looks from nearby people, your eyes darting from face to face in fear. You take a deep breath and look at Yuta again, almond eyes distracting. 

“People will think we’re lovers,” you whisper, almost a hiss.

“What’s wrong with that?”

You breathe out in disbelief. “You’re really something.”

“What? Why did you always come to meet me then? Behind the keyaki tree?”

“It wasn’t for you,” you lie quickly. “I had nothing better to do.”

Pining after a fox? You could never have feelings for him. Even so, your answer comes off childish and silly, and somehow he’s the only one to be able to draw that side of you—the you that is messy and unprepared.

Yuta smiles in return. “You think people can’t fall in love with us the same way they fall in love with most everything.”

It’s a statement, not a question.

“How conservative of you,” he leaves with an airy remark, but not before urging you to follow him.

The sizzling sound of food being fried and the knocking, clicking sound of children playing games, all these forgotten sounds grow louder and for a second, if only you let yourself, you could close your eyes and it would be just like your first date. 

No. It’s different. You look up, eyes trailing over Yuta’s back, his golden hair, how his figure moves with ease and confidence.

It is different.

You raise an eyebrow at the box of takoyaki Yuta shoves towards you, an expecting look across his face.

“You like this, don’t you?” he asks, an uncharacteristic hesitation in his voice.

You hum in response, taking the box from him and saving yourself the trouble of asking whether he paid for it or simply charmed his way through. 

“Eh, no thank you?” he complains. “How polite.”

You scrunch your nose to accompany an exaggerated smile and he laughs, the two of wandering over the asphalt streets. Your hands are close enough to brush—and if a twenty-something year-old woman can feel jittery because of it, hands truly are meant to share warmth. The smell of candy and caramel fills the air, making you smile. You’ve saved enough for the taste of home, you think. 

The taste of home. 

Inevitably, the thought of kissing your companion crosses your mind and you stop in your tracks. Whatever. It must be natural when someone as attractive is beside you. Those aren’t feelings. You curse yourself for feeling like a teenager again.

The festival grounds aren’t as shabby as you expect them to be. The city,—if you could call this one—stops here and the earth spreads out to the forest behind. The crowd also thins, and you take a fresh breath. They’re selling old books in the corner, but no one seems to be there.

“The raccoon dogs,” Yuta whispers in your ear, with an arcane smile. “Want to visit those rascals?”

You roll your eyes. He knows you’ve heard one too many folktales for a lifetime, seen one too many. It’s time to go home, especially now that the thought of thanking him crosses your mind. You’re about to turn when your shoulder crashes into someone else’s. A surprised, syrupy smile greets you, which you cannot return for the first few moments. Yui’s smile wavers and you flash her a quick smile. A friend. Her arm is looped through her lover’s, the one she never shuts up about and suddenly the urge to pour water over her head returns.

Yuta glances from you to her before pressing his lips together, as if suppressing laughter. You’re almost offended when Yui laughs flippantly.

“You’re on a date too? I knew you couldn’t stand spending the festival alone,” she says, tugging her lover closer. 

People have always told you who you are and what you do. As if they know better.

You smile awkwardly. “It’s… actually not—”

“Oh, don’t be shy.” She gently pats your shoulder before leaning in. “He’s a real catch. As expected from you. You can never leave the boys alone.”

You know what she really means. You’ve heard the same words in high school when she was shoving you into a wall behind the school. The sickening smile is still on her face.

You gulp, feeling sixteen again. The lack of people around somehow makes it more awkward and you’re about to excuse yourself when suddenly, Yuta bumps into Yui and his warm drink spills over her left shoulder. Your eyes widen, more in confusion. When did he leave? You don’t doubt his ability to sneak past people, but surely you couldn’t have been so enraptured in your own feelings that you barely noticed.

“I’m so sorry,” Yuta says, voice honeyed with surprise.

Yui looks like she’s about to explode when she looks at him, her expression dropping to a calmer one almost immediately.

It’s an easy look to recognize. They always have it when they first meet Yuta, whether it’s the smile that’s too dazzling or the pretty round eyes. 

How persuasive, those eyes.

“Ah… I must have not seen you,” she says faintly, and Yuta’s smile widens.

Before he can stir up more trouble, you slip your arm into his and pull him away, not caring for another polite apology to an old, almost nameless face.

“I was having fun,” Yuta complains, voice still smug and calm.

You glare at him and it only seems to add fuel to the fire, to whatever cold fire dances at his fingertips. 

“You’re happy, right? Don’t look at me like that. You should reward me.”

You don’t respond, looking away and hoping to get at least a word in about how troublesome he is every single time you visit. Yuta has other plans, however. Leaning his head to look you in the eye, he maintains a distance which looks perfectly decent but feels less than so.

“How about a kiss? I deserve one, don’t I?” He moves his head closer to yours, making you shy away.

You grab him by the belt and pretend to not catch a glimpse of the pleased look on his face as you drag him into a secluded part by the forest.

It’s quieter here, so much that you can almost hear your own heart drumming in your chest, and the faint light of the distant festival grounds doesn’t help much at all. It’s dark as dusk, and you can only make out Yuta’s jawline and a faint smirk over his lips. You think that if a fox ever wanted to eat your liver, this would be the perfect spot.

“You did something,” you finally utter the words. “You did something to me.”

“Why do you think I did something? Do you mean love?” he responds with a cheeky smile. “This means you’ve been thinking about me? How cute—”

“Yuta, stop it,” you warn. 

“Or what? You should stop me yourself.”

You grab the lapels of his jacket, the cloth bunching as your knuckles turn white. The anger you feel isn’t the first of its kind—it’s just a little funny how it’s always Yuta every time, making you remember the burning feeling time and time again. You find yourself unable to respond. 

“Oh, don’t hold back,” he provokes, leaning in.

You push at his chest in exasperation, but he grabs your wrists before you can retract your hands.

“Scared?” he whispers.

You pull apart anyway, a scowl over your lips. “You’re as annoying as ever. Don’t you have anyone else to bother?”

“Ooh! Sharp claws. You’d be lovely as my fox-bride.” he teases. 

Your face flares with heat. “I’m not your… I’m not a fox.”

“I didn’t say a fox, I said—”

“I know what you said,” you snap, massaging your wrist so you don’t have to look at him.

Yuta falls quiet for a moment, voice lower when he speaks again.

“Is it so nasty to be called a fox? There are worse things, you know.”

You scoff, growing increasingly annoyed. “Of course you’d say that. I hate it. I hate this town. I hate foxes and I hate you.”

Yuta places a hand over his chest, gasping with no emotion. Your eyes linger over his long, painted nails a little longer before you meet his eyes. A part of you regrets saying the words but you couldn’t help it. The shroud choking your hometown makes you want to scream at the top of your lungs every time you’re here. You hate this place.

But you don’t hate him, after all. 

You try to clear yourself of the thought. A gentle gust of wind brings you back to the present, Yuta still glancing at you with no giveaway to what he’s feeling.

“You wouldn’t make a terrible fox though,” he says, eyes sharp. “Don’t they know you’re a vixen already? How many livers will you eat?”

You suck in a breath, tears stinging at your eyes. However, it’s not like you to get so easily affected by him. No. No, somehow that doesn’t make sense either. Those words do hurt from Yuta and you’re not sure if it’s just because he's the only one you didn’t expect them from.

“You…”

“What? Aren’t you going to lash at me again? You’re so predictable.”

His voice is calm despite your obvious annoyance and you feel flames lick at your heart. Your hand moves before you can think, about to meet his cheek when he grabs your wrist. You struggle, trying to pull free but to no avail and you use the other hand to hit him in the chest. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t bother him and that same feline smile curves up his lips.

You feel something you haven’t before, a warm growl at the pit of your stomach.

You push with all your strength, catching Yuta off guard and he stumbles backward but not before pulling you into him. Consequently, either of you lose footing and land on the grass with a sudden thud, Yuta’s side pressed against yours. His hands still clutch your wrist, and he shifts to hover over you.

“We used to wrestle like this as a litter,” he says, erupting into full laughter. “Ah, memories. I don’t even know if they’re alive or dead now.”

Yuta is much stronger than he looks, and he’s taken your tantrum as a source of amusement much to your infuriation. He has your hands pinned back, eyes unaffected as he scans over your face. You try to shift but there’s just too much weight on you. You breathe slowly, chest rising and falling in time with his. His earrings sway gently in the wind, dangling a few inches above you—he’s pretty, so pretty. Admitting defeat has never been your forte but now that your senses are gathering again, you feel a flush of embarrassment for losing your temper. 

Or perhaps, it is something else when you register the lack of distance between your noses.

“Playtime’s over,” Yuta coos. “You’re kinda cute when you’re losing.”

He tilts his head, an adoring smile over his lips. For a moment, they’re all you see.

Can a fox comfort you? Can a fox make you feel loved on the darkest of nights? Your mind races with questions your heart does not want to answer. 

Yuta leans in to close the distance and despite every nerve in your body, you turn your head away. You can hear him gulp, the following moments painfully quiet before he gets up. Your breath is soft and shallow, lying on the ground till you get enough courage to sit up. 

You almost gasp. His tails are clearer under the dim moonlight, all nine of them golden and luxurious. The light hitting his face isn’t any less flattering and once again you are reminded of how handsome he is, fairytale or not. 

Yuta looks uncomfortable, and that’s a first for you.

“I’m sorry,” you say, though you don’t know why.

He waves his hand dismissively, annoyed.

“Yuta,” you take a step forward.

“I see the way you look at me,” he says quietly, “Is it not want?”

You fall silent, biting your lip so you don’t retort violently. He doesn’t look particularly malicious when he says that but you do not want to give him the satisfaction of an answer yet.

He quietens for a moment before a look of curiosity flashes across his features.

“What is it then?” he asks. “Is it a secret? Foxes love secrets. Tell me.”

Despite every bone in your body burning up, you find it in yourself to laugh.

“I don’t think I could keep a secret from you if I tried,” you finally say, before bursting into soft laughter again.

Yuta looks at you puzzled, lips parted while he stands frozen as if he were a painting. A daunting, reckless, heavenly painting.

“It’s not want,” you answer quietly. “It’s more than that. Even if I hated it. I like you.”

Yuta’s ears perk up at your confession. “So- so you admit, then? You are interested?”

“I could blame you for this, you know?” You shrug, hugging yourself once the night starts to feel cold again. Yuta begins to take off his jacket when you stop him, gently pressing your palm against his chest. 

“You’re a fox, after all,” you whisper. “Like me. What they think of me.”

Yuta purses his lips. “Does it really hurt you? No, wait. Did they- did they—”

“Now, you tell me,” you cut him off. “Why do you insist on getting married—to me?”

There’s a pause. The crickets chirp a merry tune despite the leisurely darkness of the night.

“You’re not terrible,” he says, nonchalantly.

You glare at him and he raises his hands in defeat. He looks wearier the more you look at him.

“I want to grow old,” he mumbles after a long pause. “Properly.”

You hold your breath.

“And you want to do it with me?”

Another flower blooms in your chest, as if he hasn’t planted a garden in there already. The lights from the festival flicker down, the lanterns burning brighter in the distance. He glances at them for a moment, your eyes still fixated on him. 

The tails glow even brighter in the dark, as if gold in broad daylight. You’ve always been curious about him and his kind, all the stories; but he says he’s too old to remember if you ask.

You reach out to touch one of the tails, wondering if the fur is as warm as it looks. They’re pale and captivating, but they look so soft—they shouldn’t belong to an animal so vicious. Is he, though? Is he all that you think he is or have all these years failed you? If anything, he’s quite probably not as much a fox as you are, you think bitterly.

The fur is warm, but the realization is short-lived.

A short growl leaves the corner of his mouth. Yuta glares at you like he was stolen from and yet, you do not move your hand. Some part of you wants to aggravate him further.

“I’m not a pet,” he snaps. “Stop that.”

“You should stop me yourself,” you mimic his voice.

Yuta’s shoulders relax, and he looks down but you can still see the trembling smile on his face. It’s the way he looks at you, you think to yourself, maybe that's the reason after all.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you say, feeling warmer than the autumn night should allow.

“Like what?” he asks, still smiling.

You look away. 

“You’re not too fox-like, you know?” you mumble. “You’re just annoying. And flirty. And annoying.”

Yuta chuckles, before pressing his palm to the top of your head. 

“And you’re lovely.”

You give in to the gesture of affection, leaning your head to press against his shoulder.

“Why do you even do all this? What do you get out of it?” you say, voice muffled. He hears you clearly, however.

“Because I love you,” he responds, as if coming to terms with it himself. “More than you think.”

There is no joke, no flirtation to his tone, no decoration upon his words. It’s plain, and laid bare. And sometimes, simplicity is scariest. 

You pull back, lips pulled into a frown. The air is cold once more; the longing for warmth flowing into you. The silence is worse.

“You don't believe foxes can fall in love,” he states softly upon a wavering smile. “I knew that. Of course.”

A part of him believes it too.

“I…” you begin, and for the first time, you are afraid of promises in the name of love. You are the one making them now.

“I’ll believe you,” you whisper, “I’ll believe you so please… please take care of me.”

You place your palm against his cheek, his skin bewitchingly warm. 

“Only if you take care of me,” he whispers back, leaning in.

This time, you do not move.

The lovers’ kiss you’d been searching for—lovers’ warmth, lovers’ comfort—all of it comes crashing down once Yuta tightens his arm around your waist, the other hand resting gently at the base of your neck. He kisses with the right amount of pressure, the vague taste of sweet berries in his mouth.

You used to fear his touch, like he would eat you whole; even if they have been gentle, always. This time, you might as well let him. He presses his lips from your cheek to jaw to neck, lingering at each spot enough to make you clutch at his shirt tighter, taking in short gasps of breath. You kiss for a little longer, like time means nothing.

“We should go back,” you whisper, pulling apart.

Yuta kisses you again, the distance unacceptable. 

“Yuta—”

He kisses you once more, your calls falling on deaf ears.

Finally, after another long kiss, he pulls apart enough to rest his forehead against yours, eyes still closed.

“It must have been hard for you,” he mumbles.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you scoff.

“Foxes are faithful lovers, you know?” he insists.

You laugh. “What do you mean?”

“It means I’ll follow you everywhere.”

He stands up straight, his thumb stroking your cheek as he bites back a smile.

“I don’t think we should get back tonight,” he suggests all of a sudden. “We could book a hotel. That’s the place you use these days, right? I’m sure your grandmother will understand your absence—”

You groan, resting your forehead against his shoulder and he presents a delighted laugh in return. It is warm by his side; he is warm. You find it easy to forget the failures in love, the loneliness of a lover that isn’t meant to be yours. Folktales are just long tales, after all. You smile to yourself. 

You should’ve known—it was the fox all along. 

[lyallblacklupin]

Don’t miss the Yule Ball.

Remus sorts out his feelings about Sirius. 

Tags: Post-Incident with Severus Snape, Angst with Happy Ending, Getting Back Together, Trust Issues.

Chapter 4

If someone had been there to witness what happened to Remus after Sirius had left the dorm, they would have had given him the longest hug to repress his teeming guilt that had gushed out of him so hard that he had collapsed on the floor, rocking back and forth for tears to come out, but they never came. He never wanted things to be turned this way between him and Sirius, which were completely unexpected. Sure, he did fantasize of being asked out by Sirius, but not in his right mind he had ever had any hopes for it to happen. He really underestimated Sirius. He was strongly reminded that the void in his chest was Sirius’ absence in his life which was expanding day by day, ripping his heart in the midst. He wanted Sirius. So much. He felt selfish—in fact he was selfish, and right now it didn’t seem like much of a sin.

He was again at the Gryffindor Table in the Great Hall, sipping coffee heedlessly, mind floating elsewhere in the crack of dawn. There were no classes today due to the Yule Ball in the evening. He had nothing to distract himself with. Surprisingly, he was greeted by a very unusual couple that he had to blink his eyes a little too much to believe he was seeing right.

“Oh, stop blinking! I know it’s hard to believe.” Lily Evans grumbled, with a slight amusement in her voice.

“Oh Evans, it’s not hard for me to believe. I am very much alive right now!” Yes, that was none other than James Potter, grinning his usual stupid, stupid smirk.

“For your information, we are not dating, Potter. We are just friends who happened to be going on a very casual event of our school.” Lily imitated a very elegant voice, smiling successfully that James couldn’t stop looking at her—or couldn’t stop swooning at her.

“Sure.” He shrugged, the smile not leaving his face for a second. They both slipped into their seats beside Remus, but they didn’t sit together. James and Lily were sitting on Remus’ sides. When the silence had prolonged for more than it was necessary, he found both of them staring at him.

“What?” He was utter confused.

“You think we are unable to see that long face of yours?” Lily commented, arching her brows like Mcgonacall. He shook his head slightly. He knew that he was not going to get away from this, “Tell us what happened?”

Remus was unable to gather words. He felt like he had no ounce of energy left in his body.

“I don’t know what to tell…” He trailed off.

“Okay, how about you tell us what are you feeling?” She put her hand on his.

“I don’t know that either.”

“Okay, okay…Umm. How about we ask you questions and you try to answer them?” Remus was not thrilled with her idea, so he stayed silent which she took it as his approval, “Did you have a fight with Sirius?”

“Not exactly a fight…” Remus was replaying the memory in his head for the infinith time, “Merlin, I wish it had been a fight.”

“Was it about…what he did with Snap—“ Lily was cut off by the shake of his head.

“No, it was not about that!” He said irritatingly, “We are way past that, okay?” He wasn’t asking but he was making it clear.

“Are you?” James interjected.

“Look, I have forgiven him long time ago. It’s just getting difficult to be, you know…normal?”

“Okay, let’s talk straight here, mate,” James put his arm around Remus—which was a typical ‘James Potter move’ when he was trying to convince someone, “You guys were dating before…all of that,” He did a vague hand gesture, “And right now, you guys are just these uncomfortable exes who are missing each other so much but have a tendency to ignore that.”

“Of course, I miss Sirius. He was my only best friend, James.” James gasped dramatically, making a show of how mocked he felt by his comment. Remus rolled his eyes at him.

“Yes, but James is trying to say that you guys miss being each other’s boyfriends.” Lily said those words with such gentleness that Remus felt heat creeping up on his neck. He was suddenly reminiscing the best memories of his life when he was dating Sirius.

“You are an ignorant, self-centered and a mean boyfriend, do you know that?” Remus replied blankly, his temper had reached the level of exhaustion because Sirius was right that Remus was never going to win any arguments with him. So he flopped on his bed but Sirius crawled from his behind to take him in his arms.

“But you love me.” He whispered, planting tiny kisses on Remus’ ear and jaw. Remus had turned into a mush, because it felt so good. He decided that he wasn’t unhappy on his position in their relationship. His mind made a mental note to himself that he’d rather let Sirius win all the arguments if it meant that he was never going to leave Remus.

“I do, I do love you.” He whispered back.

“Moony?”

“Remus?”

Remus jerked out of his ruminating to see James and Lily gawking at him.

“Sorry, just zoned out of the conversation.” He cleared his throat and Lily offered him her coffee.

“You’re a mess, Rem. You need to sort this out with yourself.” She was right, Remus knew, but he also wanted someone to tell him what to do.

“What do I do?”

“Go to the dance with him!” James piped up, and Remus flinched, “What?”

“Urgh. That was how it all started…”And then he told them what happened when Sirius asked him to be his date, how it turned out, and how infuriatingly he didn’t know what to do.

“You have a date!?” Lily scowled at him. Not only James was looking disappointed by the news, but Remus also felt sick of himself.

“I am the worst person in the world. I messed up. I messed everything! I knew that this was not what I wanted! I never wanted to date anyone. And yes, I admit, I haven’t moved on. Not even a little bit. I still think about him, and I can’t stop thinking about the fact that he had always been the one to calm me down whenever I’m angry or sad but then Snape happened, and I made a promise with myself that I will never let Sirius come near me. But I was this overconfident shit that I thought I will be able to handle all it. And then I wasn’t…and I can’t…”

His chest was thundering as the sobs began to cloud his throat, waiting for Remus to let go of himself. He didn’t want anyone to touch him otherwise, he’d never stop crying now that his heart was opening and becoming vulnerable.

“Moony…” James’ gentle voice was enough to bring his emotion at the brink of his eyes. He didn’t just underestimate Sirius, but also himself. That was very unlike Remus. He hated being the center of attention, he hated breaking down in public, and he hated people’s soft words—let alone the physical gestures.

“Don’t.” It was all he could manage to say when Lily had touched his arm. He was on his feet as he fled the hall, in desperate need to reach the lavatory.

So it was about what happened with Snape, came a voice in his head when he was inside the vacant bathroom. There was still mistrust, swimming with his judgments. His mind was telling him that he shouldn’t commit the same mistake of getting into relationship with Sirius but his heart was not helping at all. It was so in love. He was trying breathe properly.

Let love be your guide, his heart said.

And then get lost? His mind retorted.

Yes! Remus wanted to slap himself.

He had been pushing feelings all of his life. He had been very difficult with Sirius for straight two days when Sirius had confessed that he was in love with him. The most remarkable thing was that Sirius understood his struggle with feelings and emotions. He had the art to scoop them out of Remus’ system. Moony, this is the only way to calm yourself, he had said to him. And now, as Lily had said, he was a mess. Without him. Without Sirius.

After few hours—what felt like minutes—he washed his miserable face and walked to the courtyard. He didn’t want to go the Gryffindor Tower to face anyone. He was a wreck. He didn’t want to face Sirius either, so he just sat by the outdated fountain where the tree was protecting him from the sun. He decided that he was not going to the Ball. He just wanted to rehearse his future act of turning down Catherina Johnson gently. He relaxed himself there. It had been fifteen minutes, and he had been thinking of his DADA essay for Patronus charms, which was a win-win for him as a distraction.

However, it wasn’t long when he took out his wand and tried to cast a patronus.

“Expecto Patronum.” He whispered, thinking about the time when his friends had first time accompanied him to the moon as Animagus. A silver wisp glowed on the tip of his wand but then died out after a second, which made him eventually want to think about the moments that had made him genuinely happy. He thought about the time when Sirius had told him he was a good kisser, when he had told him that they should start dating, and a lot more but they were not strong enough to cast full patronus, just a silver light flickering. He was confused. He focused and focused, becoming impatient. He was also worrying if Sirius was not associated with his happiest memory then maybe Remus had been in an oblivion—or say, stupid in love. He knew that love was the most powerful element to do wonders, even in the wizarding world. But What if it was never love? What if it was just infatuation? Then why was his heart hammering so violently in his chest? But then he was suddenly reminded of a very bad day in his fifth year when he was walking by the dungeon where the sixth-years were taking their Potions class, and Slughorn had called him to volunteer.

“Mr Lupin here is a fifth year, and he has advanced enough to brew Veritaserum which is supposed to be taught in his next year. Uh—Mr Lupin please, come forth and—Mr Lupin?”

Remus was extremely annoyed by a certain scent saturating the room. He was sniffing, and whipping his head to follow it. He had completely forgotten that he was volunteering with Professor Slughorn because he is so concentrated on the scent which is filling his nostrils, making him quite dizzy.

“What is this smell, Professor?” He asked, still looking here and there. He knew that some of his senior students were making fun of him as the room was filled with faint sounds of sniggers and snorts.

“Mr Lupin, you are in a Potion classroom, there are numerous of potions sitting out…” Remus ignored his rambling because the scent is getting stronger. He couldn’t put a finger on it because it was reminding him of many things. Musk, which was making him lightheaded. Cigarettes. Damp hair after hot shower. The feeling of leather on skin, and also the forbidden forest. The scent had a strange sense of familiarization. It was vague but he was drawn to it. It was like he was sitting in the heart of someone—someone he knew, because he could feel their heart beat in his ears.

Remus’ whole day was a disaster because he couldn’t brew the Veritaserum properly, Slughorn had sent him back to his dorm, he was tackled by Peeves on his way, and he was also annoyed by some portraits which had made fun of his scars. After his prefect rounds, he entered the common room with a foul mood, and spotted Sirius Black sitting alone on the couch. He looked at his pocket watch and found that it was past midnight. Sirius stood up and held out his arms, smiling at him. Remus threw his satchel and books away, and fell into Sirius’ arms. He was embraced so tightly and warmly.

They both stayed quiet, and Remus nuzzled his face in the crook of his neck. That was when his eyes snapped both because he caught a whiff of the same scent that had been annoying him in the Potions.

“That scent.” Remus murmured, pulling away from Sirius.

“What scent?” Sirius asked, perplexed.

“Oh! Not you, now! I have had enough of it! This scent is driving me mad, Sirius!”

“Hey, hey, calm down, Moony, why are you crying?”

“What?”

“You are crying.”

“Oh.”

“Come here.”

He was embraced again, and then it hit him. That scent was Sirius. It was not coming from somewhere, it was just Sirius’ scent. Very natural, and very Sirius. The potion he had smelled in the dungeon was Amortentia. Sirius had always been the one to give Remus the physical interaction he shared with no one in his group. Due to his claustrophobia, he had always found hugging very uncomfortable, but not with Sirius, never with Sirius.

“I’m claustrophobic.”

“I know.” Sirius tightened his hold on Remus, pulling him impossibly closer, and he was not choking for breath. That made him cry, more and more. He was not embarrassed for the streaming tears, so he let them fall because it was just Sirius. His home.

“Expecto Patronum.”

A full grown silver dog shot out of his wand, running in circles around Remus enthusiastically. And suddenly, Remus realized why such an odd memory was his happiest and the most powerful one because it was the day when he was brought in front of the raw truth that he was in love with Sirius Black.

It was afternoon, and everyone was gathering for lunch a little earlier because the Great Hall was going to be sealed for the decorations of the Yule Ball until the evening. Remus looked around him, everyone was beaming and laughing with the exhilaration for tonight. He needed to find Sirius. He wanted to talk to him. He wanted to see him, at least. He walking quickly through the crowd, looking for him.

“Hey Remus!” He turned to find Catherina staring at him. Remus groaned internally.

“Hi, Catherina.” He tried to smile.

“Oh, call me Cathy. My friends calls me Cathy.” They fell into brief silence but she break it—to Remus’ horror, “So what’s the color of your robes tonight?” He frowned at her, “Oh, it’s okay if you don’t to tell but please don’t wear anything mustard. I have an extreme aversion to—“

“Catherina, I can’t go with you tonight.” He tried to ignore the hammering of his heart.

“What?” She looked distraught.

“I’m sorry—“

“Is this because of Black?”

“What does Sirius has to do with any of this?”

“Oh you bet your arse, it is! You guys think you are so subtle.” Remus is frozen in his place, “Who do you think you are? You thought I was just a bloody nobody to whom you’ll say yes without having to mean it—“

“Catherine, it’s not like that! I’m not feeling well, I can’t go—“

“Oh, save it, Lupin! You first agreed to be my date and broke Black’s heart, and now you’re going to his date by breaking mine?” She looked hurt, very hurt and Remus wanted to just die because her words were too true to be painful, “Can’t you see what you are doing?”

“I am so sorry, Cathy. Please. And I’m not going with anyone!” But she was shaking his head, “You have to believe me. And you are right, I did break your heart and you have no idea how pathetic I feel! I am a terrible person. I don’t deserve to be your date.”

“You are not,” She spoke after a brief silence, “You are not a terrible person. You are just stupid.”

“Same thing.”

“Look, you didn’t break my heart. You hurt my feelings, and I didn’t expect that from you. But you know what, people surprise you.” There is a very awkward silence between them and Remus couldn’t stop himself from apologizing. She gave him a long strange look, and then walked away.

Remus didn’t stand for any longer, he began walking. The thoughts, the guilt, the pain, the unjust things, the stupid acts, unfathomable love, all of that was dawning upon him at every step he was taking. His pace was becoming frantic as he reached closer to the Gryffindor Tower.

He entered the common room, his heart was racing abnormally. He paid no heed to the fourth-years standing in their robes and gowns. He ascended the staircase to his dormitory. For a second, he thought he was the same fifth-year student fleeing the Potions class because a certain scent had screwed up his day. He barged into the dorm just like he had on that day in the common room.

And once again, he found none other than Sirius Black, sitting alone in the room.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 5 is coming soon!

[kingofkingdom-archive]

So Much Like Stars - Part TWO

Pairing: Boba Fett x Female Reader

Part TWO (Read Part One HERE)

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Summary: During a trek through the mountains, you discover new things about both Boba and yourself.

Warnings: Explicit sex, p-in-v sex, hand feeding, breathplay, choking kink, power dynamics/power play, royalty kink (?), dom/sub dynamics, pool sex (kinda you'll see), unprotected sex, coming inside (do not do this in real life), age difference, dirty talk, spit kink, offscreen oral sex, AFAB reader, safe to read if triggered by pregnancy

Word Count: 10k+

A/N: Major apologies in order for the delay on this one! It's been up on AO3 (here) for a hot minute but it took me a bit longer to get around to posting it here. Anywho... here it is. Let me know what you think! I love to get reblogs/comments/messages so very much. As always, no use of Y/N, and please heed the warnings. <3

The early hours of the following day fly by like ash in the wind.

You and Boba leave as soon as you are able, gathering necessary supplies into packs and preparing for the grueling trek ahead of you. You notify your father of your departure - he is not happy about it, but he learned long ago that he has little sway over the decisions you make.

You also find Boba a cloak that fits over his armor and that doesn't hinder his ability to reach his weapons. It's thick around his neck, which is why you'd insisted he wear it.

He'd stopped complaining once you were about a kilometer out from the village gate.

The howling wind swirls around the two of you, snow and ice collecting on your clothes. The journey is not an easy one, but with Boba's natural strength and your knowledge of the terrain the two of you handle it better than most.

Boba's steps are always audible behind you, even when the air around you seems to be screaming. You appreciate his closeness, because far too often people have been lost and never found because they fell too far behind.

It's easy to become lost in a place like this. Being found tends to be a matter of life and death.

The sheer cliff faces and shifting dunes of snow present the most hazardous challenges on your journey. One single misstep could have either of you tumbling down, and as you walk you only gain elevation, increasing the distance between you and the ground below. It's terrain that you've traversed plenty of times, but you don't know how well-suited Boba is to such harsh elements.

You glance back at your companion when you come to a turn, sheltered from the biting wind and driving snow.

"Faring alright back there?" You have to yell to be heard, but Boba nods.

"I'm doing just fine, princess. Seen worse than this."

You raise your brows, even though he can't see your face through your mask. "If you say so. We'll be on this trail for the rest of today and most of tomorrow. Then we'll turn off and find the source."

There is, of course, the risk of encountering an ongrol. The idea of it looms over your journey like a dark cloud, and you keep alert to any shift in the wind or in the landscape ahead. The constant drone of air around you would typically mask the sound of any movement, but your ears have become attuned to listening for things outside the wind. Footsteps, especially those of a creature larger than yourself, will be obvious. The ongrol are not known for their stealth - if they want to attack, they'll do it with a thunderous leap and a swipe of razor-sharp claws.

You'd been telling the truth when you told Boba it was rare to escape an encounter with one alive. Boba had shown you the fire-blaster on his arm, and the two of you have no shortage of weapons, but still you worry. You keep alert, listening to the world around you.

Though your focus has a tight hold on your mind, you can't help but let your thoughts wander to Boba, and to the events of the previous night.

In all your life, you've never met a man quite like Boba.

Not only did he sense your needs intrinsically, it seemed as though he saw right through you the moment he laid eyes on you. You recall seeing his visor tilt toward you in the meeting room; you hadn't known it then, but now you can imagine what he'd been thinking. Boba saw your presence at that table and immediately knew what kind of girl you are.

It doesn't speak well to your sensibilities as a village leader, if you're being honest with yourself. This is the first foreigner to visit your people, and you let him into your home, between your legs? You suddenly feel rather guilty about it, but a small voice in your head reminds you how good it felt.

How good he felt.

Maker above. Nothing in your life could ever compare to the things he made you feel last night. Armor against skin - ice against fire, rough edges against smooth curves. The smell of him in your nose as he pleasured you, unkempt and raw. The splay of his hands on your hips as he took, and took, and gave you so much in return.

Boba knew exactly how to take you apart. And you'd only met him that day.

You didn't delude yourself into believing this could continue. He does not belong here, and you certainly can't leave. Above all else, your people need you, and to leave the planet would be to abandon them.

You steel your heart into acceptance. You'll enjoy Boba's company for as long as he's here, and then things will return to normal. You'll figure out how to hide the kyber and no one will bother you. Your people will live on in peace.

Whether you will ever find peace after knowing what it is to be with Boba Fett is another matter entirely. But you can't dwell on that, or you might decide to do something drastic.

You let that thought slip from your brain quickly, replacing it with memories of last night. Despite yourself, you smile beneath your mask, surely blushing as well. Though your steps forward are certain and sure, your center heats up at the thought of his hand around your throat, of his thick cock moving wickedly inside you.

From the depths of your mind float up a few words he'd said, a phrase you'd forgotten until just now.

Come for your king.

Odd, his choice of wording. It sends a shiver down your spine, but then you give it a moment of thought. Surely he didn't mean king in the context of you, of your village - that wouldn't make any sense. But then again, he couldn't mean --

You furrow your brow. Yes, it was the heat of the moment, but he still said it.

There's a possibility of something more there, something much more than just a bounty hunter in search of a handful of credits and some relief for the night. You remember how he'd asked if you knew his name, like he'd expected you to.

Do you know the name Boba Fett, princess?

Boba Fett. No, you have no knowledge of that name outside the armored man trekking behind you.

Who is he?

You frown, but decide to keep your questions to yourself for now. You're nothing if not careful - keeping your cards close to your chest is a skill you've more than mastered.

Boba Fett, no matter who he is, will be none the wiser to your doubts.

-

That night, once darkness begins to envelop the air around you, you lead Boba to a small, secluded, empty cave safe from the cold wind. There's a dark scorch mark on the ground, evidence of a past campfire.

"I've used this cave a number of times," you explain as you take off your pack, setting it on the ground with a groan. The weight on your shoulders never gets lighter. "The cold shouldn't reach us here, especially once we get a fire going."

Boba hums, unrolling his bedroll, which is a collection of mats and blankets identical to yours. "I know a few other ways we could stay warm, princess."

You look over at him. His back is turned to you, large and imposing in the dim light.

"Do you?" you ask, light with a hint of a sly smile in your voice. You lean your staff against the cave wall and crouch to begin extracting your own bedroll.

Behind you, you hear a gruff chuckle. The deep, rumbling sound of it makes your breath hitch. Boba Fett may be an enigma to you, but that doesn't mean you feel any less strongly for him now than you did last night.

In fact, the close quarters of this cave mean his words are more than just teasing.

You turn and spread your bedroll out beside the spot where you'll set up the fire, and you see that Boba has set his up so that it's perpendicular to yours, the corners overlapping.

Next you take out the meat and bread you brought along, as well as flint, some firestarter, and a few bricks of coal that will burn through the night. You prop yourself on your knees to get the fire started, and once the flames have sprung to life, you lean forward to set up the small spit to cook your meal.

You're just arranging the cut of meat on the metal spike when you feel movement behind you. The fire beneath you is searing, so hot that when you feel hands on your hips, you lean back into them to escape the heat.

Boba's hands grip your hips tighter and you yelp as he drags you backwards. His fingers land on your thigh, grasping at and arranging you until your back is flush with his chest. Your legs are tucked in between his, which are spread out in front of the two of you.

You look up at him. You're seated in his lap, but the layers of clothes and metal between you prevent you from feeling anything distinct.

He reaches a hand up to tug at your face mask.

"Let me see you," he murmurs.

You let him remove the cloth covering your mouth and nose, and then he slides your goggles off of your face. You're sure you've got marks around your eyes from wearing them for so long, but Boba doesn't seem to mind.

In return, you place your hands on the bottom of his helmet, fingers curling under. He allows you to press the small latch beneath your index finger and slide his helmet off, the warmth of his breath ghosting across your face as soon as you can see his mouth.

You lift Boba's helmet all the way off and set it to the side. He puts a hand on your waist, firm and grounding, fingers curled tightly into your ribs.

"I've been many places in my time, but I admit I've never met anyone quite like you, little one."

His words are smooth as silk, soft and tender in your ear. You smile and raise your brows, glancing from his eyes to his lips and back again.

"Surely you've met more than a few pretty girls in your travels," you reply.

Boba scoffs. His grip on your thigh tightens, pulling you close.

"I have. You…" he shakes his head, and you watch as his gazes slips down to land on your mouth. You bite your lip and your heart races at the way his pupils dilate at the sight of it.

"You're different, sweetheart."

The new pet name makes you shiver, subconsciously pressing closer to him. "Is that right? I can hardly believe I'm much different from anyone else."

You're baiting him, goading him into saying something more. You've never been one for compliments - they've always felt forced, almost disingenuous. Not with Boba.

"The girls I've known either want my head on a pike or can't look me in the eye," he tells you. You chuckle softly - you don't blame them.

"Is that 'cause you'll shoot them if they do?"

Boba grunts and pinches your side, making you squeal. You laugh, full-bodied and silly, at your own joke, spurred on by Boba's tickling.

He leans down, large body curling over you. Your giggles peter out as his lips press against your ear.

"What if I said yes, little one?"

You blink. Slowly, you turn to face him, so close that your noses are brushing.

"If you said yes?" you whisper into the air between your lips.

He hums.

You take a moment to study the scars on his face before grinning, soft and lazy. Your hand, resting on his knee, gives a gentle squeeze.

"Then I'd tell you there's more than a few men in that village who can't look me in the eye."

Your words seem to take Boba by surprise for a moment, from the way his eyebrows bounce up. It's true - when you were younger, boys in the village would try things, stupid dares and pranks you took none too lightly. There's one in particular who, if he looked at you funny, would get a blaster shot to the knee thanks to the shit he's pulled in the past.

They've learned their lessons.

"Is that so?" Boba's voice has gotten slightly deeper. It rolls through you like thunder, filling the small cave with its resonance.

You nod, a smirk playing at the edges of your lips.

His eyes flit down, gaze following the subtle movement of your mouth. It's too much - the closeness, the heat of the fire and of his body and of the way he's looking at you. You bring your hand up to rest on his shoulder, gripping his armor.

And you kiss him.

You press your lips against his, open and pliant, unable to save yourself from how much you want him. Boba groans and returns the kiss, tongue sweeping into your open mouth, licking into you like he's a man starved and you're his next meal. You savor the taste of him, because you can't pinpoint exactly what the flavor on his tongue is, and you know that must mean it's something uniquely Boba.

He shifts his hands to rearrange you, placing your legs on either side of his own so you're straddling him. Your palms come up to rest on his neck and jaw as his land on your hips, pulling you down so you're sitting right on his codpiece. You gasp at the feeling of it through your clothes. Boba bites at your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth, before releasing you.

You open your eyes, not having realized you'd closed them. Boba is staring at you, but you can't read the look in his eye.

"What?" you murmur, searching his expression for any hint of what he might be thinking.

He hums, hand on your hip flexing, squeezing. "Nothing, sweetheart, just…"

You wait for him to finish his thought. His brows furrow ever so slightly as he looks back at you. Behind you, the meat sizzles from the heat of the fire, filling the space with its aromatic scent.

Boba shakes his head. "Nevermind."

Before you can respond, he presses forward to kiss you again. You want to encourage him to share what he was going to say, but it only takes a swipe of his tongue against your own to have your eyelids fluttering shut and your thoughts quieting.

He kisses you like the sun - hot and insistent, reminding you how fleeting it all is. You've only ever seen the sun a few times in your life, but its brightness seared your mind in a way not dissimilar to the way Boba's laying his mark on your heart.

You let him kiss you deeply, unhurried, until your brain clicks on long enough to remind you that there's food cooking behind you.

You extract yourself from Boba's hold, which makes him grunt in displeasure until he sees what you're doing. In your pack there's a plate and a cloth, both of which you retrieve and bring back to the fire. Carefully you take the meat off of the spit and put it on the plate, along with the bread.

Boba watches, legs still spread as he sits, leaning back on his hands. You take the plate and sit between his thighs again.

You make to tear a piece of the tender meat off, but you feel a hand on your arm, preventing you from doing so. Confused, you look up at Boba, who simply rips off his own bit of meat. But instead of bringing it to his lips, he raises it to yours.

Wordlessly, you lock eyes with him and open your mouth. His stare is hot, intense, as he feeds you, your lips closing around his index finger and thumb, tongue licking the excess juices off his skin. You take a moment longer than is strictly necessary to taste the pads of his fingers, hollowing your cheeks and sucking his digits like you might something else of his.

You chew the meat once he's pulled his fingers from your mouth. He watches intently until you've swallowed, and then he takes a piece for himself.

As he eats, you find yourself full to the brim with curiosity about him. Once he's finished with his bite, you ask the first question you can think of.

"Last night you mentioned your father. I'd like to hear about him."

Boba raises his brows. He tears off another chunk of meat, offers it to you, and you take it. He speaks as you chew.

"His name was Jango. I -" he seems to consider his words, eyes darting down to the ground as he thinks "- he wasn't technically my father, but he raised me as his son. I traveled with him as a boy, until he was killed by a Jedi."

You frown. "What's that?”

Boba looks at you funny, tilting his head. "You've never heard of the Jedi?"

You shake your head no. "Are they human?"

"Some are," he explains. "They're Force-users, claiming to fight for peace and justice in the galaxy."

His voice is bitter, but you don't blame him, if what he says is true. "But they killed your father."

Boba nods. "They will tell you they fight for what's good and right. But they are no worse than those they call enemies."

"Who are their enemies?"

"The Empire. Dark users of the Force." Boba studies you as you take in this information. You've heard of the Empire, and the Republic, but clearly some information was omitted from your village's records.

"And the Force is…?"

Boba shifts, grabbing some more meat for himself, which he eats before replying.

"I've never fully understood it myself, but from what I gather it's an energy present in all things. The Jedi and the Sith can manipulate it to their will."

You have so many questions, but you know asking them will only make you more confused. Energy in all things? That sounds… well, it sounds overwhelming, to be truthful. It sounds like magic, which your father always told you was the stuff of fairy-stories.

Boba feeds you another morsel and you eat, thinking.

"Can they 'manipulate' blaster fire?" you ask once you've swallowed.

"I don't think so. They tend to deflect it with their lightsabers, which are swords powered by kyber, coincidentally."

You wrinkle your nose. "Swords? I'd take a well-timed blaster shot over a sword any day."

Boba laughs, hearty and full. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close, pressing his lips to your temple.

"That's my girl," he mutters. His words send a shiver down your spine.

Boba continues to feed you as he tells you about his father and his own travels. You learn about his time on Kamino, where Jango's DNA was made into clones, and that Boba himself is an unaltered clone of his father. You learn about Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker, legendary Jedi who proved difficult for both Boba and Jango at various points through the years. He tells you about meeting Fennec Shand on Tatooine and about another companion of theirs, a man who just goes by the name Mando.

He doesn't tell you about the scars, so you don't ask.

When you're falling asleep, eyes drifting closed as your head rests on Boba's chest, you wonder at the life Boba Fett's led, how such excitement and pain ultimately finds him here, holding you close.

All you've ever known is this planet, your people. Perhaps the universe, in its vast, unknowable expanse, is really here beneath you, in Boba's stories and his scars. You think maybe it's okay that you aren't meant for more than your cold village, because at least you can travel through the galaxy just by listening to him.

At least you can know the taste of the stars just by kissing him.

-

The next morning is decidedly less relaxed than last night. You and Boba pack up hastily and you're on the trail when the first light of the morning is just beginning to show.

Hours pass in much the same way that they did yesterday. Snow and wind beat at you, but you press on until you reach the area you're no longer entirely familiar with.

You see the map in your mind's eye as you lead Boba across the rocky terrain. You're sure of your path, even though it's beyond any place you've been to previously. Somehow you just know, like the trail is programmed into your feet. Everything seems normal until the wind shifts and you catch the sound of something else on the air.

Throwing an arm out, fist closed, you immediately come to a halt, and Boba follows suit.

You're in an open expanse of snow and ice, still trekking upwards, but now a good distance away from any sheer cliff faces. You tighten your grip on your staff and listen, ears drowning out the howling wind to pick out the other you'd just sensed.

Something's ahead of you. Something large. You can hear the shifting of its weight, the silence of the space it takes up.

You glance back to Boba and nod. Carefully, quietly, he walks up to stand next to you.

"Up ahead," you tell him, voice as low as possible so as to not be heard by anyone - or anything - other than him. "Something big. It has to be -"

Your mouth snaps shut when you see it. Up ahead, a pair of glowing blue eyes emerge like beacons out of the fog, looming over you even before you can see the rest of its body. The ongrol moves forward, massive steps fading in and shaking the ground under your feet. You clench your jaw and ready yourself for what you know is coming.

You look over at Boba, and when the visor turns to face you, an unspoken agreement passes between the two of you, perfectly clear despite lack of words and facial expressions.

The ongrol doesn't allow you a moment longer, though. Its massive form is now visible through the driving snow - white fur with glowing blue stripes, pointed ears with long, flowing tips, and massive fangs.

You draw your blaster.

The moment it senses the two of you, it looks down and roars. Immediately it's charging forward and you fire off a volley of shots, though they don't seem to do a whole lot of good. Boba's hand comes down like durasteel on your arm and he jerks you back, positioning himself between you and the monster. He aims his fire-blaster at it, hosing it down with a torrent of flame. The ongrol yelps, then snarls, and you watch as it raises its massive paw, claws extended, piercing blue gaze zeroed in on Boba.

In that split second there's a feeling that comes over you, a gut instinct that pours over your body like warm water. It fills your skin, your nerves, your bones, so fully that your mind goes quiet in the wake of your body taking control.

As if you'd done it a thousand times before, you plant your feet and thrust your hand towards the beast, palm open. A feeling like electricity surges through you - not painful, but equally powerful and all-consuming.

The ongrol flies away, launched through the air, as if pulled by some invisible force.

Its cries echo against the mountainside as it falls, tumbling and rolling down a cliff face you can't quite see.

Boba whirls around to look at you, and the last thing you see is his visor coming closer as you collapse and the world goes dark.

-

The first thing you notice when you wake up is the warmth surrounding you. It's everywhere, like you're lying in front of a fire, and your immediate instinct is to turn over and fall back asleep. Your tired brain wants nothing more than to bask in the heat and enjoy it for as long as it will last.

But then your eyes flutter behind their lids, and you catch glimpses of something glowing, bluish-green in a way you've never before experienced. With considerable effort, you open your eyes wide, and the sight before you brings your mind to full awareness. You struggle to tuck an arm under yourself and push up slightly, getting a better view of where you are.

You're lying atop your bedroll, your staff on the ground next to you. Immediately in front of you is a pool of water, still and steaming, that glows a bright, shimmering combination of blues and greens. No, wait… the water itself isn't glowing - rather, it's reflecting light from the walls.

Walls lined with crystals.

You still feel exhausted, despite having just woken up, but the sight of the kyber makes you jolt to a sitting position. Your head swims, dizzy and drained.

From behind you, you hear Boba's voice.

"Woah there," he murmurs, a hand coming to rest gently on your shoulder. You squeeze your eyes shut to block out the rocking motion of the world around you.

When you open your eyes again, Boba's sitting to your left, facing you.

"What happened?" you ask, your memory of the events of this morning still foggy and distant.

Boba hums. "Well, you tossed that cat across a mountain with your mind."

You frown and look up at him incredulously. His helmet's off - in fact, he's also taken off the rest of his armor as well as the top half of his flight suit - he's left in his pants, undershirt, and boots.

His arms are bare. It's the most of him you've seen - his biceps bulge, large chest straining against the tight shirt he wears.

Your thoughts circle back to what he just said.

"Run that by me again," you mutter, searching his face for any hint of a lie. Boba blinks, raises a brow, and stares back, keeping the eye contact.

"You used the Force to kill that lion, princess."

His face is stone-straight. He's not lying to you, not that you can tell.

You groan, squeezing your eyes shut and rubbing the heels of your hands across them roughly. Stars erupt on the back of your eyelids, and for a moment, your nausea abates. It comes back to you in flashes - the creature's eyes, the sound of its roars on the wind, the feeling that overcame you when you watched it raise its deadly claws at Boba.

It's nothing you've ever felt before in your life.

"So…" you pause, trying to sort through the situation. "So - does this mean… how is that possible?"

Boba puts a hand on your calf, firm and grounding. "You want my theory?"

Hands still pressed to your eyes, you nod.

"The water. It's infused with kyber, which is what has healed your people, but it must have also awoken a Force-sensitivity in you."

You take a few deep breaths, the exhaustion and nausea slowly leaving your body with each exhalation. Boba's thumb rubs your skin softly, a simple back-and-forth motion that brings your racing mind back down into your head.

Carefully, you take your hands from your eyes. The world has finally stopped spinning. You look over at the pool to your right, into its calm, tranquil waters. Steam rises from its surface and dissipates before it can reach the cavernous ceiling above you. Kyber dots the walls, green and blue all around you, mesmerizing and radiant.

Sweat is beginning to gather under your eyes and on the back of your neck and between your breasts. You belatedly realize Boba has undressed you to your undergarments, so you sit there in little more than your underwear and a sleeveless top.

You stare at your hands, fidgeting between your thighs, and look up at Boba again. A million questions are floating through your mind, but you're not sure he'll be able or willing to answer them all. You bite your lip, brow furrowed.

"Does this mean I'm a Jedi?" It's the most pressing question on your mind, because if what Boba says is true, you're not so sure you want any part in your newfound gifts.

Boba shakes his head. "No, little one. All Jedi are force-users, but not all force-users are Jedi. Or Sith, for that matter."

In your lap, you turn your hands so your palms are facing up, cradling one another. Nothing has changed about them - still the same jagged patterns of lines as always. Still the same, but with this new… sensitivity, they feel foreign.

The Force feels like a new limb, a new sense that's now made your body a stranger to your mind.

"What do you remember from yesterday?" Boba asks, rough voice a soothing balm to your racing heart.

You tilt your head, trying to gather your memories together. "I remember walking up the mountain, and then there was the ongrol. I tried to shoot it, but that didn't work, and then you pushed me behind you. You threw your fire at it, and then it -"

Suddenly, you feel yourself getting choked up. It washes over you like a gust of cool air, returning to the emotion you felt in that moment on the mountainside. You blink a few times, swallowing down your panic and fear at the thought of it.

"And then it raised its paw, and I thought you were going to die."

Boba says nothing, just waits and lets you continue.

"All of a sudden this feeling came over me, like an instinct, and then there was this… this buzz that I felt. I just did it. I don't know how I knew how to."

Boba nods. He's looking at you with an expression you can't quite place, soft and severe all at the same time. It makes you shiver despite the heat that surrounds you.

You avert your eyes, instead focusing on his hand where it lay on your leg. His fingers nearly encircle your calf. You reach out and take his hand in yours, drawing it close to you, running the tips of your fingers over his knuckles, his wrist, the silvery scars that interrupt his tan skin.

"From what I understand," Boba murmurs, curling his fingers into yours ever so slightly, "it's supposed to take years of training for a Force-user to wield that sort of power, princess."

You glance up at him. He's smiling at you now, dark eyes sparkling.

Something about his expression, combined with what he just said, hooks into your brain and sours the taste on your tongue. You recall your doubts from earlier, doubts about who he is. Why would it matter if you - a village girl from a desolate snow planet - have more of a gift than most? Why would he care?

Your immediate reaction is that he's flattering you, like he did the other night in front of the fire. For some reason, your instinct tells you this is different, that he's got motives beyond those he's revealed to you.

Instinct has proven to be on your side lately, so you follow it headfirst.

"Why did you call yourself a king?"

Boba's smile vanishes, and the tension between you grows tenfold.

You grasp his hand firmly. Your faces seem so much closer now.

"What?" he asks, even though you know he heard you perfectly well. You narrow your eyes, not liking whatever game he's playing at. Boba Fett doesn't seem to be the type to play dumb, and you're certainly not the type to fall for it.

"You heard me," you say, voice calm and monotone. "Why did you call yourself a king when you were fucking me?"

Boba chuckles, a deadly sound that would have unnerved you if you were anyone but yourself.

He raises a brow. "Interesting question. Didn't you like it?"

"I liked it a lot less when I realized you had no reason to say it, bounty hunter."

Your voice is acidic, like venom hissing out from between your teeth.

"Or am I mistaken?"

Boba hums, but it feels more like a growl with your close proximity to him. "You sure you want to fall down that sarlacc pit, little one?"

You clench your jaw, giving your answer in the way you stare unwaveringly into his eyes.

His eyes flit down to your lips and back up again. You lean back slightly in response, refusing to let him distract you.

"It's not an official title, if that's your concern," he says.

"What sort of title is it, then?" you ask, guarded heart racing once again.

Boba tilts his head to one side, taking a long moment to look at you. His breathing is slow, steady, and you try to match your own to it, but his next words throw you off balance.

"A stolen one."

You blink, a fluttering sensation erupting in your chest - and not in a good way. It's as if your heart has tripped over itself in an attempt to flee him.

He brings his free hand up to cup your cheek, tender and authoritative as he runs his thumb along your lower lip. "I killed the man who last sat on my throne, so the title is now mine."

You frown, despite the digit near your mouth. "What's your kingdom, then? Who are your subjects?"

"Those like me," he responds, without hesitation. "Hunters. Mercenaries. People who are willing to do most anything for some credits."

The dots are beginning to connect in your brain, and you're not sure you like the picture that's forming.

"Criminals. You're - you're a crime lord," you mutter.

Boba chuckles again, a smirk forming at the edges of his lips. "Something like that."

A conflicted feeling rises in your chest. You twist your chin out of his grasp, looking away and into the waters beside you. Had you known this was the man you were dealing with, would you have let him between your legs that first night? You'd like to think not. But then again, a voice in your head reasons vehemently, you knew he was a bounty hunter, and how is that any better?

You purse your lips. At the moment you're not entirely sold on what your conscience is telling you to do, which is to cut him off now and end whatever it is that exists between the two of you.

In your lap, you're still holding his hand in both of yours.

"I want to trust you, Boba," you admit. He puts his other hand on your thigh as you turn back to face him. "But I'm not daft."

He opens his mouth to speak, but you aren't finished. "I know it may not be in your nature, but I would appreciate some clarity here. What does this... this Force sensitivity really mean? I'm not some spoiled, naive princess, either - despite what you may say."

Boba is silent - his brown eyes are as intense as they are unreadable as they look at you. It drags on long enough that you get restless. You let go of his hand and turn away, tucking your feet up under yourself to stand.

The water has been calling to you each time you’ve looked at it, and you can no longer resist its draw. Tentatively, you touch a toe into the shimmering pool, marvelling at its warmth.

You walk forward. With each step, you feel as though you're gaining life, absorbing energy you hadn't known you'd lost.

The water is up to your thighs when Boba finally speaks.

"The Force will die in you if you remain here for the rest of your life, princess."

That gives you pause. You turn around. Boba is shirtless now, but he's still reclining as he was. It takes a major effort not to let your eyes drop down to his abdomen, enticing like a beacon in your periphery.

"You want to know what I’m thinking, is that right?” He asks the question like he half expects you to say no.

You nod. Around you, the warm, steaming water is rippling with your movements, but it shimmers in a manner more than can be described as distinctly natural. Almost without thought, you step backwards, submerging yourself further in its enticing warmth. Your fingers and palms skim the surface.

"I wanted to ask you to join me. To come back with me."

It almost makes you laugh, the way he says it so seriously. A disbelieving smile crosses your features.

"You know I can't leave my people," you reply. "You've known that since the start."

Boba sighs. "I have. I was still tempted to ask, regardless. Ever since the tavern."

That's interesting. This whole line of conversation is peculiar - you get the feeling he rarely needs to explain himself in such a way to anyone.

"Why? What use am I to you?"

He stands, but does not follow you into the water. Instead, he walks over to another part of the cave and leans against the wall, observing you.

"It's always been selfish," he admits. "At first I just wanted you as a crew member. You have a way for negotiating, or at least the type of negotiating that would be useful for my sort of operation.

“But then you revealed yourself to be this needy little thing, so desperate for me to fuck you, and I could just picture you in my ship, or in the palace, spread out and wanting me wherever I am.”

Those words, low and promising, cause a certain sort of wetness to pool in your underwear, one that can’t be blamed on the water that surrounds you. By now, you’re up to your collarbones in it, hands no longer visible to him as they remain at your sides.

You hook a thumb under the waistband of your panties and slide them off, slowly floating down as the water pulls them from your form. When they get low enough, you tuck them under your heel to hide the garment away.

Boba gives no hint that he sees, so you assume he cannot tell.

“You wanted to bring me back as a rare specimen, to show off to the criminals who work for you,” you retort, though something deep within you preens at the idea.

Something hidden and unknown until that night in front of the fireplace.

He just hums. “Yes.”

You can’t decide if his blunt honesty is a fault or a virtue. Right now, it’s mainly serving to bring heat to the space between your thighs. To hide your arousal, you narrow your eyes, trying to focus on why exactly he thinks he can just… whisk you away to some strange planet.

“And now,” you reply, “what's your reason for asking me to come back with you?”

He shrugs. “As I said, without training, the Force will die in you. I have connections to nearly any type of creature in this galaxy, Force-users included. I am your only hope if you want to keep your gift. If not, we go back down this mountain and it’ll be as though I was never here.”

That does present an interesting twist. The gears in your mind turn a bit faster, thinking on what exactly this may mean for you.

You consider where you are in the present moment - the reason Boba is even here in the first place. You consider your duty to your people, and you consider the long life your father has ahead of him.

How much time you have before you'll need to take his place.

How little time you might have if someone else realizes what this mountain holds.

"You said this kyber puts out some sort of signature, one that others can pick up on."

Boba raises a brow, and you see that he catches on to what you're proposing.

You continue, because if you don't, you'll convince yourself the idea is foolish. "This Force-user could teach me to hide the signature, no?"

"I don't see why not," Boba replies. In his eyes you see a glimmer of humor, like he thinks he's got you wrapped around his little finger. The way you're talking, you're on the verge of agreeing to return with him. He's got it in stone - his negotiator, this girl who needs him so strongly.

You see through him, though. He's tough to read, but you're learning to look between the lines.

Boba Fett is a criminal. For your whole life, you've studied law and order, learning the diplomatic ways of other planets and societies. To go with him would be to align yourself with everything you should hate, everything you should fight against.

But you are, after all, more than just a meek princess. You're a leader, a role model, a strong woman and lover of your people. Are you willing to dispense with your morality in favor of this Force training? In favor of following this man who has stolen your heart like he stole his throne?

"Say I did go," you start, and he doesn't even bother to hide his small grin. "Say I go with you. What does that look like for me? I will not be reduced to some pleasure slave, hidden away in your palace."

Boba shakes his head. "You will be free, my dear. You and I will work together, for both of our benefits. When I need a kind, unrelenting negotiator, you will speak on my behalf. In return, I find your training."

It sounds too good to be true, especially considering the major aspect to your relationship he has not yet mentioned.

Your eyes finally flit down to his chest, broad and thick in a way you never knew you'd like so much. His arms and shoulders are equally as enticing, the knowledge of how strong he is only serving to make his body more attractive to you. He is scarred, long-healed gashes across his skin the echoes of unimaginable pain and fire. As your gaze drops lower, tracing the skin of his abdomen as it disappears into the waistband of his pants, you feel something tighten in your chest. In the space between your hips.

Seeing him like this is intimate, almost more so than that very first night, and he hasn't even touched you.

"And what else might I expect, traveling with you?" You ask it knowing he sees the way you're looking at him.

Boba hums, as though he's giving the question some thought. He pushes off from the stone wall he was leaned up against.

"You know where this will go, princess."

His hands drop down to hook into the front of his pants, fingers toying with the clasp there. Your eyes follow the movement, entranced. The tendons and muscles in his arms flex and ripple as he works his hands, movement capturing your eye like a mouse to bread.

"I do," you reply, "but I want you to tell me."

His gaze darkens at your words. You watch as he deftly unfastens his trousers and pushes them down, stepping out of them and towards you. He moves unhurriedly, but with clear purpose.

You feel like you're one of his bounties, caught in the crosshairs of his rifle. Trapped.

Excitement courses through your veins.

"The first place I'll fuck you will be the ship," Boba says as he walks forward into the water, his thick thighs flexing with each step. You're too caught up in watching him approach to think to respond.

"Before we even leave this planet, I'll have you screaming against the durasteel, begging for my cock."

Your brain goes a bit fuzzy at his words, at the force of the arousal that hits you. It's like the moment he starts speaking to you like this, all higher function in your mind shuts off, full only of the images he conjures with his voice.

Boba's getting closer, and before you know it, he's within arm's reach.

All at once his hands are on you, rucking up your top to search out your bare skin, warm under the water. You reach up and put your hands on his shoulders, savoring the heat of his skin on your own.

"Once we get to Tatooine," he continues, pressing his lips close to your ear, voice like honey flowing over you, "I'll get you the most expensive dresses credits can buy, and we'll go to the clubs and cantinas and everyone there will want what's mine."

Your grip tightens, nails digging into his flesh. Boba finally pushes your top all the way up and off. He absentmindedly tosses it behind him, landing with a wet smack against the stone floor of the cave. His palms find your breasts and he squeezes them, kneading, flicking his thumbs over your nipples.

The feeling of it, like sparks shooting through your chest, makes you gasp, light and breathy.

"You'll sit on my lap at the sabacc table, and all those filthy criminals will know exactly how much you love getting fucked."

Boba runs a hand down your side, the other still toying with your breast, and you watch his face as he realizes you're no longer wearing your panties.

His jaw clenches as his fingers curl into the meat of your hip. He dips his head down so his nose brushes against yours, his breath cool compared to the heat of the water.

"You're a temptress, little one."

You can't help the small smile that floats across your lips. "What was that about how much I love getting fucked?”

He hums, dark and deep, the sound nearly a growl with the way it reverberates around you. Boba slides his hands down beneath your ass, and then he's hauling you up and pressing you against the wall to your left. You squeal at the sudden movement, legs locking around his waist and hands gripping his shoulders even tighter to keep from slipping away.

You feel the heat of a cloth-covered bulge against your burning, most sensitive skin. The sudden pressure of it makes you gasp, smiling, breathing in the air he's just exhaled with how close your mouths are.

Boba holds you with such ease. It's as though you're floating, featherlight in his arms.

"Watch it," he mutters, leaning in to graze his lips against the shell of your ear, the broad plane of his chest covering your own.

"Or what?"

It’s clear that Boba is more turned on than annoyed by your teasing, despite his words. He adjusts his grip so his broad palms fit even tighter around your hips, pressing his erection solidly into your bare core once again, rolling his hips wickedly. The water enhances everything - the throbbing in your cunt is amplified tenfold and you can hardly contain yourself.

His words only serve to drive you madder, lips and teeth pressed against your neck.

“Or I’ll make sure every last man in that village sees the limp in your walk before I take you away,” he growls.

You moan at the thought of it, at the thought of walking past your friends and fellow townspeople in such a state. The things they'd say - the whispers - would never get back to you, for you know they respect you too much, but oh, would they talk.

Boba shifts, reaching down to finally free his cock from his underwear. Almost immediately, you feel the hot length of it pressed up against your pussy.

“Yeah,” he mutters, moving his hips and torturing you with the drag of his dick. “They’ll all see how well I’ve fucked you - how good their little princess takes a bounty hunter’s cock.”

Your eyes slip closed as you cry out, shaking with how much you need him. “Please, Boba!”

His shoulder muscles ripple under your palms and he groans. "I need to get you ready for me, little one --"

"No," you cut him off, voice little more than a whine, pulling him closer as best you can in your desperate state. "I can take it. Right now, I need it, I need you, Boba--"

With a grunt, Boba lines himself up, hands like durasteel on your hips as he pulls you close in tandem with the thrust of his cock. You moan, high-pitched and uninhibited, when you feel his hot member pierce your cunt. Your folds part easily for him, the head sliding into your pussy like it was built just for this.

Your legs tighten around Boba's waist as he starts fucking you, dirty promises and filthy imaginings rolling off his tongue. His voice strains with each thrust, and it all just feels so divine.

You think you could live like this, if he'd let you. Get addicted to the way his cock moves inside you and never spend another day without it.

"That's it," he mutters, teeth bearing down on your neck, surely leaving marks that'll turn black and blue in a day or so. On a particularly sharp thrust, you're jolted back, legs trembling in his hold.

"Maker, Boba." You open your eyes and see the way he's looking at you, teeth slightly bared and brows furrowed. He looks vicious as he uses you.

"You're so tight, princess. My fat cock fits in your little cunt so well," he grits out, your body still jostling with each thrust. Your eyes are fixated on his face, on his mouth, watching the words spill out from behind his lips.

For a moment, your brain provides a sliver of sass, making your eyes sparkle with mirth, even as your tits bounce against Boba's bare chest.

"You fuck pretty good for an old man."

Boba growls, a deep chuckle combined with a moan sounding from somewhere deep in his chest. His thrusts slow and he leans back, taking in the way your body is wrapped around him. Your hands fall to your breasts, pressing them together and flicking your thumbs over your nipples.

He snaps his hips up, hard, slamming his cock into you and forcing a whine from your throat. You can feel his balls smack your ass, even under the water. "You're desperate for it, princess. Desperate for this old man to fuck you like you need."

He rolls his hips again, rhythm slow and steady and deep. The air around you seems to rock in tandem with him.

"Yeah, you'll love Tatooine," he drawls, exhaling through his nose. "I could take this sweet pussy right on the throne and no one would say a thing. They'll all watch their King fuck a woman young enough to be his daughter."

You moan loudly, silken walls clenching and fluttering around his cock as it pounds into you.

He hums. "You like that, huh, little one?"

Despite yourself, you nod, squeezing your eyes shut again. Boba's left hand comes up to grip your chin, fingers like iron against your jaw. His thrusts get shallower, lazy, like he's become distracted from the fact that he's currently balls-deep inside you.

Your hands find his chest, getting your fill of his searing hot skin against your own.

"Open," he demands, and you do, tongue resting on your bottom lip.

Boba hesitates for a moment, and in that split second, the world around you is still once again. "This mouth," he murmurs, "is just begging to be filled, isn't it."

The words make you clench around him, an involuntary reaction to the thought of putting his cock in your mouth, of laving it with attention and worshipping it like it deserves.

Your eyes are still closed, so you can't see as he closes his mouth and works his jaw for a moment, gathering saliva on his tongue. You only feel the jarring sensation of spit landing in the back of your throat, filthy and debasing.

"Swallow it, little girl."

Eyes fluttering open, you do as you're told, and you know you'd do it a million more times if it means he'll look at you like he is right now, eyes dark as space itself.

"Thank you, my king."

You don't know what compels you to say it, other than the fact that it just feels right. Boba smiles, a sly thing that makes his dark eyes sparkle with something dangerous, and he begins fucking you again.

His hand slips down to your throat. Not tight, just resting there, a reminder.

Boba Fett licks his lips before speaking, the steam from the water around you making his face look almost eerie in the glow of the kyber. "You take me so well, my queen."

He picks up the pace again, and soon he's jackhammering into you with the same fervor as before. Your mind melts into a puddle inside your skull, only able to focus on the push-pull within you and the building crescendo that accompanies it. Boba's fingers tighten ever so slightly on your neck, and you respond in kind, curling your nails into the meat of his pecs like claws.

The fire within you is licking up your legs, winding through your ribs, and you gasp when it feels so close it's unbearable.

"Boba, I'm gonna - I need --"

He cuts you off with two simple words: "Touch yourself."

And so you do, the fingers of your dominant hand flying down to rub your clit and draw your orgasm to its inevitable peak. You press the pads of your middle and ring fingers to the bundle of nerves and frantically work to bring yourself off.

The sparks that shoot through you at the feeling of your own touch, combined with Boba's continued movements within you, force you up and over the edge of your climax in rapid succession. You cry out, the sound of it echoing far above your heads.

There must be something about the water, because the sensation is unlike anything you've ever experienced before. Your whole body seizes, straining against the hand that's wrapped like durasteel around your neck, and a tingling sensation shoots down your arms and legs to your toes. You've heard tales of the afterlife, of nirvana, of pure euphoria, and you think this must be it, because you can hardly comprehend the full-body pleasure that engulfs and drowns you.

When it passes, you go limp in his arms, head draped against his shoulder.

Boba finishes not long after, spilling into you. His spend is hot where it fills you, hotter than the water, and it's like an ancient lock has been fastened shut inside your cunt.

Your king carries you back to the dry stone floor. He lays you down and kisses you softly, heatedly, passionately. He kisses you as a lover should, like you're consummating a bond. A contract, signed in the twist of his tongue against yours.

The two of you do not leave that cave for a long while, taking the time to explore one another's bodies in every way you can dream up. You finally taste his cock, swallow his cum and find you love the taste, and Boba likewise licks and eats your pussy like he's a man starved.

When it's time to depart, you do so a changed woman. Boba Fett's body has left its touchmark on your soul. Now that you know true pleasure, the gratifying gift of submission to him, you couldn't imagine not going with him for at least some time. Leaving with him has become a need more than a want. You'll return someday, to rule and guide your people as you should, but not before you explore life with Boba for a while.

He promises so much, so many experiences and pleasures and truths. You can't let those promises go unfulfilled.

-

When Din enters the throne room, he surveys the space, as he always does when he walks through a doorway. Little is out of place.

Boba is seated upon the throne, conversing with a supplier, helmet betraying exactly as much emotion as Din's own does. From the grip Fett has on the arm of the throne, however, it's clear the negotiations aren't going to turn out well for the snivelling merchant.

Shand is leaning against a wall, jar of spotchka clutched in one hand, gesticulating with the other. She's smiling, which is rare for her, as she speaks in a tone Din can't quite hear.

Next to her is a girl Din's never seen in the palace before. She's dressed rather strangely - a thick cloak with fur trim over dark clothes, pants tucked into leather boots and some sort of shirt-tunic on her torso.

Certainly not suitable for the weather on Tatooine. In fact, Din would wager that's the clothing of someone from a snow planet.

He walks further into the room and catches the attention of Fennec and her friend. They both look at him; Fennec only for a second, but her companion's gaze lingers. Din thinks he sees something akin to curiosity - perhaps surprise - in her eyes, but it's hard to tell.

Her head turns to look directly at Boba, eyebrows raised. The other bounty hunter dips his head in acknowledgement.

Din stops in his tracks, unsure of the dynamic he's just walked into.

"You're excused," Boba barks, waving a hand at the supplier, who yelps and scurries out of the room.

He then rises from his seat and makes his way down to where Din's standing. He removes his helmet - an action that still makes Din tense up, even with everything that's happened - and tucks it under an arm. He sticks his other hand out and Din shakes it, nodding once.

"It went well, I assume?" Boba's almost smiling, which is a rare sight to see on his usually sullen visage.

Din nods again. "Yes. He's doing… he's doing great."

If he took his own helmet off, Din's smile would be clear as day.

Boba claps his hand against Din's shoulder, an amicable gesture that Din must remind himself is a sign of friendship, not posturing. Old habits die hard.

"I've got someone I'd like you to meet, Djarin," Boba says, turning towards the women who stand, watching them, not too far away.

They walk over. Fennec takes a sip of her spotchka, while the girl glances between him and Boba. For the life of him, he can't figure out where she might have come from, or what her role will be here. She's pretty, that much he will readily admit. Her eyes are bright and alert in a way that tells him she sees more than she lets on, and her stance is simultaneously relaxed and braced for conflict. He knows it well - it's as easy as beskar to spot.

She holds herself like a warrior.

She’s also young - certainly the youngest in the room.

Boba's voice pulls Din out of his thoughts. "This is our newest crew member. She'll be helping us with our… over-the-table dealings, in exchange for training."

Confused, Din tilts his head. "Training? What kind of training?"

"That's where I'd hoped you'd be able to help," Boba tells him. The girl looks from Fett to him, eyes focused right on his own through the visor.

"I need guidance in the Force. Boba said you have connections to people who could help me master my Force sensitivity."

Well, he supposes that's at least somewhat true. Ahsoka may be willing, but given how it went with Grogu, he wouldn't count on her.

"I'll see what I can do," he responds. As is his habit, he props his hand on his belt, hip jutting out just so.

The girl's eyes flicker down and back up again.

Boba clears his throat. "In the meantime, the princess and I have other matters to attend to."

He reaches out to her, and at first Din thinks he's going to grasp her shoulder in his firm grip like he tends to do with all of his close acquaintances.

Din quickly sees that this girl is much more than just a close acquaintance.

Boba’s hand finds its place on her neck, thumb tucked under her jaw and fingers wrapped around the base of her skull, tangled in her loose hair. As if they’ve done it a million times before, they lean towards one another. The girl’s eyes flutter closed, a soft smile on her face, while Boba’s study her unabashedly.

Their lips connect, heatedly, and Din knows his surprise shows in his movements. He glances over to Fennec, who just smirks at him.

The couple in front of him kiss one another completely without shame. Boba’s grip tightens to the point it looks almost painful, but the girl simply presses closer in response. She brings a hand up to rest on his chestplate, the only bare skin visible besides her face and neck.

Despite how warm his cheeks feel, Din can’t look away. He feels a rush of blood out of his head at the sight in front of him.

Boba and his lover kiss for another long moment before pulling away. He slides his hand to her hip, casually pulling her along as if he’d simply taken her by the hand.

She falls into step beside him, looking more comfortable than Din’s ever seen anyone next to Boba Fett. As they walk away, the girl glances back at Din, her observant gaze piercing right through him. Right through the beskar of his helmet.

And then she turns back, content in the embrace of the most feared bounty hunter in the galaxy.