#They are the ones who go to war everywhere and are slaves to the arms lobbies! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

justagalwhowrites · 2 years ago

Text

Beskar Doll - Ch. 39: Threat

Your bounty takes you to Kessel and comes with challenges of its own. A continuation of Beskar Doll Ch. 1-38 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Female Reader

Warnings: SMUT! Smutty smutty smut. Smutttttttt! Canon-typical violence. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 7k

“You’re in position?”

Din’s voice was crackly through the com link. You didn’t like it. You loved his voice, the com should at least try to do him justice.

“I’m set,” you replied. “You?”

“In position,” he replied. “Let you know when the target approaches.”

The cantina was a nice one, all things considered. Clean, comfortable. You liked it well enough, there had been worse places you’d waited for a bounty or a contact.

But you didn’t like Kessel.

The Mandalorian had been here before - back before the fall of the Empire, when things were apparently a bit more stable - but you’d never visited this world. It wasn’t too high on the list of diplomatic missions given that its main export was a drug. Now you knew that you hadn’t missed much.

Din had made you promise to not kill someone unprovoked when you landed - and clarified that unprovoked also meant that you couldn’t kill someone just because they were a slaver. Because everyone here was either a slave or a slaver and making it off world and through the Kessel run with your bounty, yourselves and your ship intact was more important.

“Can’t believe you won’t let me just kill slavers,” you grumbled as you settled into the room you were renting.

“Doll,” he sighed. “We’re here to handle other problems. We aren’t equipped to end slavery on Kessel.”

The child was toddling around, peeking around corners, exploring the room. You just watched him, your heart warm. It hurt that there were other children who were going to suffer and you couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

“We are here to help keep children on Canto Bight safe,” he said. You went and looked out the window to the street below. It was strange, knowing that damn near anyone in the town and not at the mines were slavers. If it weren’t for the handful of slaves working here, you’d set some thermal detonators, blow the whole place.

Din stood behind you, his body large and broad. His hand went to your shoulder, slipping down and over you, between your breasts, splaying wide against your stomach before tugging you back against him. Your head was against his chest, you could feel him breathing.

“I’m sorry we cannot do more,” he said quietly. “I know you are used to… more power.”

You sighed.

“I like when we do what we can,” you said, holding onto his arm. “And I knew what I’d be trading when I did what I did during the war. If I made it to the other side, I probably wouldn’t be in the same position after. But it was worth it. If the Empire had won, things would be worse everywhere.”

Grogu fell asleep not long after you finished the meditative exercises Ahsoka had given you to do with him, drifting off against your chest until you put him in his pod. Din was sitting on the bed, legs stretched out in front of him. You watched him for a moment. It felt like you’d been under threat for so long, the constant stress of looking over your shoulder, the fear of losing him or the child eating at you. For a moment, you wanted nothing more than to forget, to get lost in him.

You went and straddled him, putting your forehead against the cool metal of his. His hands went to your waist and you could feel him starting to harden below you.

“Cyare,” he said, voice heavy. “Tell me, what do you want?”

You took a deep, shaky breath.

“I wanted to ask you for something,” you said, biting your lip. One hand left your waist and he pulled your lip free from your teeth with his thumb before tracing it gently. Your heart was beating in a hard and heavy rhythm against your ribs. He just nodded once, his hand returning to your waist.

“The time in the shower,” you said hesitantly. “And in the cockpit, with the binders��”

You took a shaky breath, stomach tight, and you sat back away from him.

“Yes?” He asked when you didn’t continue.

“I was wondering if you’d do something like that to me again,” you had to consciously try to not bite your lip, your cheeks hot. You’d never asked for something like this, never wanted to ask for something like this.

He paused. You could feel his eyes ranging over you, his cock growing harder against your center, a disappointing amount of fabric separating the two of you.

“You like when I’m in control,” He asked without asking. You nodded. “Want me to make it so you don’t have to think, make it so all you have to do is feel?”

You swallowed, hard, before nodding again. Nothing felt quite so good - so freeing, so safe - as when he had control. You trusted him completely, more than you’d ever trusted another person - even Sosha. Trusted him to take care of you, to give you what you wanted, to keep you safe enough that you could let yourself be consumed.

He slipped his hands lower, tugging your shirt up and over you before depositing it on the floor. He cupped your breasts below the band before he pulled that off and discarded it, too. Din then reached for his belt and took his binders out, nodding to your hands. You took a shaky breath and put your wrists together in front of him. He slipped the binders over you, latching them tight before sliding his hands around you, up your back, holding you against the cool armor of him for a moment before lifting you from the bed and laying you beneath him.

He took something from his belt, lifted your hands over your head, and fastened you to the bed. Your heart sped up.

Din got up and your eyes followed him as he went to turn out the light, plunging the room into not quite total darkness. You heard the sound of beskar being put down and then his clear, unmodulated voice.

“If I do anything you can’t handle,” he said. ��Say the name of your home world. I don’t plan to give in to your begging.”

You swallowed past the knot in your throat and took a shaky breath before nodding in the darkness. He got on the bed, you could feel the mattress sink below his weight. His hands went to your knees and he spread them wide before settling between your legs, his skin everywhere, almost overwhelming. His nose ran up and down your own, his lips brushing yours but not quite kissing you. When you lifted your head enough to try to kiss him - really kiss him - he pulled back every so slightly. You whimpered.

“So eager,” he said, voice low and soft. “You need to learn to be patient.”

He didn’t kiss you. Instead, his mouth trailed over your skin, the heat of his breath making the rest of your body feel shockingly cool by comparison. His lips ghosted over your breast bone, over to your nipple. His tongue lightly grazed it before he took it in his teeth, sharp and harsh, making you gasp and your back arch against him. He sucked the stiffened peak, teasing you with his tongue, until you were panting for breath. You went slack below him and he moved to your other breast, keeping his mouth far enough away that when he darted forward and bit you, it came as a shock that made you gasp. He sucked your nipple into his mouth, cradling your breasts, pressing his stomach down into your throbbing, aching core.

When he released you, he brushed his lips lower, down your body, before pressing a kiss into your stomach, over your womb.

“Don’t cum without permission, Cyare,” he said. You whimpered again. “Need to learn how to be patient.”

The next thing you felt was his tongue lightly pressing into your clit, almost making you jump you were so sensitive. He kissed the top of your slit before taking your clit into his mouth, sucking you gently.

“Din,” you panted, your hips pressing into him. His hands wrapped around your thighs, holding you still. He took his mouth from you and you groaned.

“No rushing things,” he said before licking a lazy path from your hole to your clit. “You have to take what I give you, Cyare.”

You whimpered but didn’t argue. He hitched your legs over his shoulders before he released your thighs and, for a moment, that was all of him you could feel - his broad body between your legs, is hot breath on your slit. It was shocking, then, when his mouth covered your clit at the same time one of his fingers thrust into your entrance. The movement was sudden, fast, hard, his finger sinking deep into you, curving up into the soft, spongy place inside you that made you fall apart.

He sucked and licked you, his finger thrusting in and out in perfect time, your body tightening around him. You were getting close, not sure how to stop the orgasm that was bearing down on you when he pulled away from you.

“Why…” you began, voice heavy with pleasure.

“Told you not to cum until I gave you permission,” he said, still between your legs. “Did I give you permission?”

“No,” you whimpered.

“Then you can’t cum,” he replied, running his nose up and down your slit. You groaned, the tightness in your body easing but not vanishing, the ache inside you growing.

“Din,” you groaned. “Please…”

“Please what?” He asked.

“Please let me cum,” you whimpered.

“Not yet,” he said, pulling back from you again.

His tongue slipped into you next, pressing deep, forcing your tight, aching walls apart until he was buried in you, his nose against your clit. You gasped and fought to not grind against him, a finger from one of his hands pressing into you below his tongue, the thumb from his other hand pressing against your clit.

You couldn’t help it, your hips ground against him, chasing the orgasm that was growing in you again. Your muscles clenched, the heat in you clutching tighter, burning brighter as he worked you. You were inches, seconds, breaths away from exploding when he took his mouth and hands away again. It damn near made you cry, the tightness in you barely easing this time, the aching longing building so much that it was starting to hurt.

“Didn’t give you permission,” he said. His voice was thick, hot. Your heart was pounding. “Who does your pleasure belong to, Cyare?”

“You,” you whimpered.

“And would you take what’s mine without permission?”

“No,” you felt like you might break in two if you didn’t find release soon.

“Then you will take what I give you,” he said, returning to your overwrought slit once more.

The pattern continued again and again, Din using his mouth and fingers to bring you to the brink of orgasm only to pull back just before you found it. You couldn’t remember your body ever feeling so tight, so wanting. It was like you were a spring that had been coiled past its breaking point but had somehow not snapped, you knew that - at any second - you would shatter and it would overwhelm you. You were soaking wet, you could feel the sheet below you clinging to your skin with your slick. Your entrance was starting to throb and flutter, grasping for something to grip as Din slipped your legs from his shoulders, rising up in front of you, his broad body silhouetted in the slips of light coming through the window.

“What do you need, Cyare,” he asked, ghosting the dripping head of his cock over your slit.

“You,” you were panting, all but writhing, desperate. “I need you, I just need you, I need you to let me cum, please just let me cum, it hurts, I can’t….”

He thrust into you in one swift movement, forcing your tightened channel open, folding his large body over yours, his forehead meeting your own. His lips - still wet with you - brushed your own when he spoke.

“Cum for me,” he said, holding himself so deep inside you that he was pressed fully against the entrance to your womb. He pulled back and thrust into you again once, twice. “Cum around me, want to feel you…”

You didn’t need to be told again, his head catching on the place inside you that pushed you over the edge, his body pressing deliciously into your clit. Your walls clamped so tightly around him that it almost hurt, the throbbing so intense that your whole body trembled with it, the heat that had built into an inferno in your stomach exploding out of you in every direction.

“That’s it,” he panted over you, fucking into you harder, faster, your body still fluttering around him. “Let go for me, I have you, I’ll take care of you. Doing so well, taking me so fucking well…”

You strained against the binders but they held fast to the bed so you laced your legs with his, holding him close as you rode out what was starting to seem like an endless orgasm, like every one he’d nearly given you was crashing through you over and over.

After what felt like an eternity, your body went lax and Din slowed his pace. He reached up and freed your hands and you quickly clutched onto him, his skin almost shockingly smooth and soft below your touch after being so deprived. His fingers traced your face, down to your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples.

“If you can cum again,: he said softly. “Do it. Want to give you everything, want to feel everything inside you…”

You nodded and he pushed into you slow and deep, your body gently building to another orgasm as he took you. You weren’t sure how long you were tangled up together like that, the aching, gentle rhythm of him deep within you, his lips on your own or on your throat or on your chest. You traced his face in the dark, memorizing how he felt below your fingers. It was like nothing existed outside of him - not time or space or sorrow or wanting. You couldn’t comprehend something beyond him, it was overwhelming to even consider anything else. You were drawn taught like a bowstring again, panting below him.

“Going to cum,” you whispered. “Want you… want to feel you…”

“Cum for me,” he said, taking your face in his large hand and kissing you, his tongue dipping into your mouth as pressed so deep inside you the stretch of him burned. You came around him, gasping into him as you did and you felt him come apart within you, spilling into you for what felt like forever until he went slack on top of you.

He pulled you against him and rolled so that he was on his back and you were sprawled on top of him, his hands splayed wide over your skin as he panted for breath, his cock still deep within you. You lay like that for a while, feeling like he was everywhere, before he started running his hands over your hair, down your back.

“Did I give you what you wanted, Cyare?” He asked softly. You nodded into his chest, not sure you could speak quite yet. He pressed a kiss into your forehead. “Good. I love you. Want to take care of you, want to give you everything.”

You’d started hunting the next morning, the two of you splitting up to see what information you could find about the source of the spice.

After a few days, you had a bead on the right hand man of the operation. He frequented the main cantina in town, one that was directly across the street from the inn - a savvy move on Din’s part when picking where to stay. It was easy to monitor the comings and goings from your room. Once you knew who you were looking for, it was easy to find the man in a crowd, get an idea of his habits. Know when to place you inside the cantina to help get him to a quiet place outside it.

You’d set yourself at the end of the bar, a few empty seats around you, and ordered a cocktail that you were taking slow sips of so you didn’t lose your focus. If he stuck to his usual schedule, he’d be in soon. There were no other women alone in the bar at this time - turns out, spice mining and the slaving that went with it was mostly a male profession - so it was likely he’d sit by you. You’d dressed to encourage it, worn clothes that would fit on Kessel but that also exposed more of your chest than you would if you weren’t trying to catch someone’s eye. Your pants fit well, you’d done just enough makeup to highlight your features without looking like you’d done anything at all. Bait in a snare.

“Target on site,” Din said a few minutes later.

“Going quiet,” you replied, pocketing the com.

The man entered and you were once again relieved that you had the Mandalorian as backup. Not that you couldn’t handle him if you needed to but he was large, grizzled enough that you knew it would be a challenge, especially if he had friends and you were trying to leave him alive. He was taller even than Din was, broader, too, his body all aging muscle covered in signs of survived conflict. He was close to your father’s age, you thought, but, given the life he led, you doubted his age would make him any easier to kill if you had to.

Not that killing him was the goal. Yet, anyway.

You glanced coyly in his direction, letting your lips curve into a small smile before looking back down at your drink, leaving your body tilted so he could see it better.

He took the bait, sliding into the seat beside you.

“Spotchka,” he said to the bartender with no other form of greeting. You turned your delicate glass in one hand, watching the liquid swirl as you did, your other hand sliding down your thigh, fingers lightly dipping into your flesh.

“Haven’t seen you in here before,” the man said. You tried to not smile. Maker, men were predictable.

“Just made it on world last week,” you turned a bit in your seat so you were more facing him than just tilted toward him. You took a small sip of your drink. “Still getting to know the area.”

“Always good when we get a little…” he looked you up and down. “Fresh meat.”

“Someone has to mix things up,” you quirked a brow at him. “Seems like you know your way around. Anything a Kessel virgin should know? Assuming you’re willing to give me what I want, of course.”

“Oh I could give you plenty,” he smirked. So fucking predictable. “Who are you with?”

“Pyke,” you replied. “Brought me in from Tatooine to help keep things running smoothly. I’ve got some experience in taming some…” you let your eyes drift to the man’s hips and back up to his face. “Harder things.”

He took a drink, shifting in his chair.

“Pyke is a good enough way to get on world,” he said. “But what you want is someone who can make you some real money, someone who’s doing something different. Need to find someone whose product is a bit more in demand…”

“Didn’t know there was something more in demand than spice,” your eyes drifted down again. “Well, at least something that’s exported anyway.”

He downed the rest of the spotchka.

“Where you stayin’?”

You smiled and hoped it looked more flirtatious instead of smug.

“Across the street.”

“Show me,” he said. “I’ll let you handle some harder things.”

You slipped off the barstool and brushed your body against the front of his before you took his hand and led him out the door. You glanced up at the window to your room, where you knew Din was watching. You could feel his eyes on you, even though you couldn’t see him.

You led the man upstairs and to your room, letting him inside. He was so ready to start getting your clothes off, it took him a moment to notice the almost two meters of beskar standing in the corner.

“What the…” he began. You didn’t let him get further, taking the hand that was in yours and twisting it, bending his arm unnaturally back and pulling it behind him before you hit him at the knee, sending him to the ground. Din pushed off the wall he’d been leaning against, binders in hand. You smiled a little at those now.

“Good work, Cyare,” he said, cuffing the man before he stalked around to the front of him. You followed closely, the man nearly reaching your chin from his place on his knees. “Seemed quick.”

“It was,” you smiled. “Didn’t take much.”

“He touch you?” He asked.

“Kept his hands to himself,” you replied. “I was impressed.”

Din nodded slowly.

“What the fuck is this?” The man demanded, pulling uselessly at the binders. “You clearly don’t know who you’re fucking with…”

“Agur Gall?” You asked, brows raised. “Right hand of the Oska Syndicate?” The man’s eyes narrowed. “No, I think we know exactly who we’re fucking with…”

He shoved himself forward, going to slam into you but Din stepped in front of you and the man’s head smacked into his beskar chest plate, sending him slumping to the floor.

“Trying to hurt her is the worst thing you could do,” Din said, rolling the giant man over with a boot to the shoulder. “Right now, I have no reason to kill you. Don’t change that.”

“What the fuck do you want with me?” He spat, lying on his back.

“Access,” you replied. “To the leader of the syndicate. We have a bounty on his head, like to cash in.”

“What would you give me for it?” He asked.

“Your life,” Din said.

“You’d think that would be enough…” you looked up at Din.

“Right,” Gall laughed. “I give you Oska, I’m fucked. There’s a target on my back the size of the maelstrom, I’m out of a job, what good’s my life?”

“Alright,” you replied. “What do you want?”

“Come with me to meet with Oska,” he said. “It’ll be small but he’ll still have guards, I’ll need help to take them down. Once I defeat him and take control of the syndicate, you can have Oska.”

“You have to stop selling the concentrated spice,” you replied. “That’s the only reason we’re here, it’s killing the children who are stuck running it if they come in contact with it, not to mention what it’s doing to the users.”

He frowned.

“Shouldn’t be capable of that,” he said.

“It is,” you shrugged. “And our bounty holder claims your boss knows it.”

“Not good business to kill off your clientele,” he said. “I’ll look at the purification and distillation process, won’t send it out again until it’s fixed.”

You looked at Din and felt him looking back at you through the helmet. He gave you a single nod.

“You’ll set the meeting?” You asked.

“Should only take a day or two,” he said.

“Turn on us, try to run, and we kill you,” Din said. “Understood?”

Gall just nodded and Din pulled him to his feet, freeing him from the binders. He stood between you and the man, almost daring him to try anything.

“Meet you at the cantina, tomorrow night,” he said. “I’ll tell you when we’re seeing Oska.”

“I’ll be there,” you replied. Gall nodded once before he left.

“That was…” you paused. “Suspiciously easy.”

“Doesn’t feel right,” Din said, going to the fresher to fetch Grogu from where he’d stashed him for the meeting. The baby stretched and reached for you and you smiled and took him, pulling him against you. He cooed happily and started twisting his fingers in your hair.

“I know I don’t wear it down like this much,” you smiled at him. “So much more fun when you can get at all of it!”

“Patu!”

You kissed his little forehead before you turned your attention back to Din.

“Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t exactly feel like running an interrogation today,” you said. “But I don’t trust this.”

“We’ll meet with him tomorrow,” Din said. “Make a plan from there.”

Din came with you for that one, Grogu safely in his pod in the corner of the booth. But the meeting went by without incident, Gall directing you to an old spice mine on the other side of the planet.

“Should move in tonight,” Din said the second you were back in your room at the inn, Grogu sitting on your lap as he gnawed on some frog-like creature you’d gotten him at the market. “Set up surveillance.”

“Agreed,” you said, glancing at the bed for a moment. Having one that was a decent size - far bigger than the one in Din’s quarters on the Crest - had been nice. You weren’t quite ready to say goodbye to it yet. But the mission was king.

Din set the Crest down a few clicks away from the mine, tucked away behind what must be rubble from mines being dug out. He locked down the ship and you took the bare minimum with you to a spot with a good vantage point, settling in to wait, Grogu asleep in his pod.

The Mandalorian watched in one direction while you monitored the other, the night still and cool and quiet.

“Where do you want to go after this job?” You asked after a while, still peering through the binocs.

“You’re asking because you don’t want to go back to Canto Bight,” he asked without asking. You shrugged, knowing he’d feel it with your back leaning against his own. He sighed. “Doll…”

“I know,” you cut him off. “We need to lie low. But we’re both not happy working on that world. I think we should return this quarry and find somewhere else to go for a bit. We could even try Coruscant, with billions of people even you don’t stand out all that much. Or maybe enough time has passed that it’s safe for us to try to contact Karga again, take some guild work…”

“I’ll consider it,” he said. “But I’d rather take jobs I don’t like on Canto Bight than risk you and the kid.”

A few hours passed before there was some movement, a group of men - heavily armed - heading into the mine.

“You need to wear something from Naboo,” Din said, watching the men go into the mine. “We’re outnumbered, you need something that will soak a shot.”

“Good idea,” you replied. “Thermal detonators wouldn’t be bad, either. We get pinned down, we can just set them, run and bring the mine down behind us.”

You weren’t sure what the usual contingent was at a meeting place for Oska. Without context, you couldn’t know if it was a trap. Just that it didn’t look great. The two of you kept watching the mine until sunrise. You walked back to the Crest and changed into what you’d packed when you’d left Naboo - intended for guarding the queen when going into battle. It fit, the muscle you’d lost rebuilt, like you had become yourself again. Your hair had grown out since you’d been back with Din, long enough now that you could braid it in a Naboo style. You sat in front of the reflective crate, Grogu on your lap with one of his toys as he watched your reflection, enchanted, as you worked. You reached out for him with your mind, getting a glimpse of his thoughts when you did. He was endlessly curious, trying to absorb everything. You tried to think through what you were doing as you did it, explaining how it worked. You thought he understood, glimmers of satisfaction coming through the mental bond.

You tried to think of how long it had been since you’d last done your hair like this. Maybe your wedding day? You’d cut it not long after at Kann’s request and had refrained from styling it that way in the interim, not wanting to look like an off worlder. But it felt wrong to do anything different for your wedding day, even if it had been a wedding in title only. You glanced at Din in the reflection of the crate as he gathered the last of the things you’d need to deal with Oska.

You hadn’t thought about your wedding day much. At the time it had been… not quite happy but optimistic. Some sign that things would eventually be OK. That you could have a normal life, find satisfaction in something. Of course, that’s not what happened. But it made you wonder what it would be like to marry someone because you wanted to. Because you loved them, wanted to spend your life with them, wanted to belong to them and they to you.

Your mind was stuck on it, the idea of something permanent because you wanted it, not out of necessity or duty.

Curiosity got the better of you as you walked back to your vantage point to wait for your meeting time.

“Do Mandalorians get married?” You asked. Din’s stride stuttered for a moment and you tried to cover yourself quickly. “I just mean… I’m not asking if… I just wasn’t sure if you did. How that worked.”

“We do,” he said after a moment. “It’s… simple. Just a few words spoken to each other. It can be private, no one needs to witness it. It can even be over com link.”

You nodded slowly.

“What was it like for you?” He asked after a moment of quiet. “Getting married.”

“Simple but not that simple,” you replied. “Aidla and Tam were witnesses, as well as two friends of Kann’s. Aidla let me borrow her wedding dress so I got to wear something from Naboo… We said the usual things, I suppose. None of it was true, which was harder than I expected. I never envisioned love but mutual respect… Anyway. I just… I wasn’t sure how that worked for you.”

“Not so different from other cultures,” he paused for a moment. “Is that… something you would want?”

You thought for a moment.

“I don’t know,” you said eventually. “I never really thought about it, it wasn’t something I ever thought I’d have, at least not really.”

He nodded slowly, looking straight ahead.

“What about you?” You asked after a moment. “Is it… Do you want that?”

“With the right person,” he said eventually. “With you, if the time was right…”

You smiled a little at that. The time could be right. At least for you. When it came to Din, the time always seemed to feel right.

***

This whole deal had Din on edge. Gall had been too quick, too eager. He doubted he’d been biding his time to stage a coup, just waiting for the right opportunity. It was too convenient. But it was the way he had to find Oska, so he was following through on it.

At dusk, you descended from your perch to meet Gall at the mouth of the mine, Grogu tucked safely inside his pod.

Gall was waiting where he promised, standing there alone.

“Deal is, you get Oska,” he said. “I get the syndicate. Still good?”

Din glanced at you before looking back to him.

“Agreed,” Din said.

“Good,” Gall said. “I told Oska I’m bringing you in as potential distributors. Some of the men inside are loyal to me, try not to kill them.”

The man had too many things in place. Din was playing into his hand, he could feel it. He only hoped he could protect you and the child if it got out of control.

“Gall!” The man who must be Oska greeted him in a cavernous space inside the mine, flanked by at least three dozen men. “I’ve been thinking all day about your proposition to move our product coreward. I take it these are the distributors?”

“A smuggling team,” Gall positioned himself closer. “Willing to run the product to Hosnian Prime to start. We can see about expansion from there.”

Oska looked you and Din over, nodding in approval.

“Didn’t know there were Mandalorians left,” he said, sounding almost amused. As though Din were a novelty, something on display. His fist clenched. “I’ve always admired men with a strong sense of duty.”

He turned his attention to you.

“Something tells me you’re a deceptive little thing,” he smiled. “A handy skill with smuggling.”

“I’ve found it useful,” you replied, your fingers close to the blaster strapped to your thigh.

“Let’s discuss the numbers,” he said. “Gall, why don’t you wait…”

“Why don’t I what?” The large man drew himself up even taller. Din glanced to you. You looked ready. “Why am I the one seeking out new opportunities while you reap the benefits? Seems like you shouldn’t be the one negotiating. Seems like it should be me.”

“Gall,” Oska cautioned, about 25 of the men at his back adjusting the grip on their weapons. “You’re on dangerous ground.”

“No,” Gall drew his blaster. “I think you are.”

Someone at Oska’s back shot first, a blaster bolt barely missing Gall’s shoulder. There was a split second of quiet after, the moment feeling long and drawn out to the Mandalorian. They often did, the moments before a situation burst into violence.

The moment passed quickly and a hail of blaster fire began. Din sent the child’s pod to a sheltered alcove he’d spotted when they’d entered and tried to not focus on you, tried to trust you to handle yourself. He knew you could, knew that smart and strong and immensely capable. He knew there was a better chance of both of you getting out of here unscathed if he let you take care of yourself and he focused on doing what he had to do.

But looking out for you felt like the keenest form of self defense now. Damn near every inch of him was covered in beskar, every inch that wasn’t you. Because it seemed like you’d become an extension of him, something vital and important to protect, something that mattered even more than a limb or an organ and you were outside his armor and control. He’d become even more aware of the risk when you’d brought up marriage that afternoon.

He wasn’t sure what had made you think of it, why you’d brought it up when you did. Maybe you’d sensed that it had been on his mind with your Jedi-like power. Maybe you’d heard inside his mind that, when he thought of you, he thought of you as his riduur, as his wife. Maybe you’d noticed how tempted he’d become to just… let you see him. Something he never thought he would want. He hadn’t felt that keeping his face hidden was lacking until you.

He’d become less stringent with his helmet since Tatooine, frequently removing it when you would be able to get a sense of the shape of his brow or the curve of his nose. It was a fine line, not quite breaking the rules, not quite hiding from you. But he wanted you to see him the way he saw you. He wanted to be yours and you to be his. And the need to protect you was strong.

He resisted the drive to throw you behind him, to shield your smaller, more delicate being with his own. Instead, he fired the whistling birds, taking out a dozen of the men shooting towards them.

Din caught a glimpse of you out of the corner of his eye as you ducked behind a boulder and fired over it, the infighting breaking out among the ranks. He turned is attention to Oska, the man already moving deeper into the mine. He took off after him, four of his men moving with him. Din started taking them out from behind, forcing them to stop and try to defend against him. But they weren’t good enough shots to hit anything but beskar and he made quick work of them, grabbing Oska before he could make it far. He cuffed the man.

“There’s a bounty on your head,” Din said. “Your spice has been killing people, including the children running it. I can bring you in warm or I can bring you in cold. If you make it easy for me, it will be warm.”

“Killing…” the man frowned. “No, no ours is medical grade, it shouldn’t…”

Din took him by the collar and dragged him back toward the main chamber, where you were standing beside Gall. It didn’t make sense, none of it made sense. You were finishing off the last of Oska’s men, Gall and the handful loyal to him nearby.

“Gall!” Oska yelled from Din’s grip. “What did the Mandalorian mean, that the product is killing the people running it?”

Gall sighed, lowering his blaster and shaking his head.

“Really wish you hadn’t told him why there was a price on his head,” the large man said before grabbing you and pulling you back into his chest, pressing his blaster to your skull. Din dropped Oska and pulled his blaster, leveling it at the man. “Sometimes, the best product comes at a price. One that Oska just wasn’t willing to pay. I am. Now now Mando, do you really count yourself to be a fast enough shot to take me down before I kill your partner?”

The blood was pounding in Din’s ears, his chest tight. This man had you, he wanted to hurt you, to kill you. He couldn’t let him, he’d die before he let him.

“If you want to leave here alive,” Din said, his voice a forced calm. “You’ll release her.”

Gall’s large hand went around your throat and you met Din’s eyes, gave him an almost imperceptible shake of your head. He tried to swallow the terror in him, the drive to rip you away from him all but overwhelming.

“Gall,” you managed, your arms lowering slowly until they were pointed down at the floor. “You don’t want to do this.”

“I think I do,” he said.

“Last chance,” you said, fidgeting with a hand. Din knew what you were doing, he’d seen it on Bakura. It still made him nervous. Gall’s hand tightened on your throat and you flicked the knife open, bringing it down into the man’s leg. He lurched, the blaster moving away from your head and his hand letting you go as he went to the wound on his thigh.

You quickly ducked behind him and Din shot him, sending him to the ground, dead. You looked at the body for a moment, your knife in your hand, before looking up at Din. He shrugged.

“He chose cold.”

***

The bounty handoff was surprisingly simple, given that it wasn’t who you’d been initially hired to capture. But the official who hired you was thankful for results, including Oska’s assurance that the problematic product was coming out of circulation.

“If there’s any more trouble, use these coordinates to start having someone hunt down Oska,” you said, handing her back her data pad. She frowned.

“Are you getting out of the game?” She asked.

“Something like that,” you shrugged. “Moving on to another world for a while. Hopefully you won’t need the information.”

“Well, I appreciate your help,” she smiled. “Good luck, wherever you end up.”

You were getting ready to leave the room you’d rented out once a week for six months - an oddly nostalgic sort of goodbye - when someone appeared in the doorway.

He was small, mousey, young - younger than you. He looked scared.

“Can I help you?” You asked. You shouldn’t have asked, you were leaving, you weren’t taking anymore jobs. But he seemed vulnerable. You wanted to help.

“I have…” he swallowed, edging into the room with a holographic com link in his hands. “I have someone who is looking for a bounty hunter. He asked me to bring this here, to meet with you.”

“Sorry,” you shrugged, something suddenly feeling off about him. Your stomach twisted. There was no way this man was a threat to you. You doubted he’d even be a threat to Grogu - even if the kid wasn’t a Jedi. But something about him was a threat. He wasn’t safe. “Not taking on any more jobs right now…”

“Please,” the man pleaded, his eyes the size of dinner plates. You frowned. “Please, at least… at least talk with him, I’m begging you…”

You looked at him for a moment. He wasn’t lying. He was fucking terrified. You stood up straighter, your fingers pressing into the table in front of you to try to put the tension in you somewhere.

“Fine,” you said. “But I make no promises on taking the job. Just that I’ll hear him out.”

“Thank you,” he looked like he was about to cry he was so relieved. “Thank you so much…”

He set the com link down on the table in front of you and activated it.

Standing in front of you, glowing and terrible, was Moff Gideon.

“Hello, Handmaid.”

#fanfic #smut fic #mandalorian fanfic #din djarin #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #the mandalorian x female reader

69 notes · View notes

libidomechanica · 6 months ago

Text

And ever-musing to each one with your chest with my wretch, go chide

His heart can ail the sea wand’ring lovers know. Their new establishment complaining facts, like Southey everywhere; the cliffs, the fruit bats scatter delight in silence, the solitary

bard sits long-forgotten heat? Porcelain, among the ensuing session: forgetful of Maud and misbegotten. Why, there are the coming back to you and found the

worms that was it ever seen the king like fairy-gifts fading and green. Up went to its Intellectual Throne and send the sound is already, known them and my brains. I said

my children running in domes with democracy; ’ or Wordsworth’s last quarto tale; in Spain, he’d make our visit. What art is a handsome urn to his discourse from this, who by a

beaten way their more innocent desires composed lets the brother, husband or his guide. Shall I say and night-cap. August her head, elate, helplessly, and gazed awhile what

kind that Susan’s side, to melt like a feast; Where builds up a formidable dyke between her teeth but not this. And brake, as for the lovely form, unless indeed there, a golden

brooch: beneath, above, below, making bloom the town, and the sprinkled with leaves on the beautiful, and go talking down the blabbing the first her dewy eyes the Samian Here rises

and I, when you both are old, and Pegasus runs restive— they in whom our prentices, as make a career of pain. No one tonight. Than half the sky. Let my whispering

voyce obtaine sweete reward forms do flow from that was a man who have seemed to watch her baby form, unless you with love. And mouth were strong as my thoughts: What pardon me. Of a truth.

And Susan Gale. To do not tell; but whence hast took, not bondage made incomplete of velvet panels, each one will not. Just as a mountains; small clouds of fragrance. They would wish you

could raised dripping the ashes of tissue, meridian- like, when first attention—there fell thy grief. The Vates irritabilis’ takes and create, create, and Betty Foy?

By his rise, in act to butt, and laws to love’s might; where the Breath of lightning grace, that the first day when he compass round their faces that trail along the stroke surpris’d and lawless

war are scarlet, from the exampled pair, and distrest, until he stars. Arms that seemed a hollow show, that he was the worms that turned off the mother again her law, and with such

a fervour of prayer that we could give him too; to make us laugh instead; at lengthen out afterimage of regret, concealed, the handed on the rocky brow as there

are for two—would forgets, the sages smile; tis straddling-band. In the room were tinged with seaweed red and square, in tree and Juan carpets, which in atonement and they did just suckle

slaves gone, thy lovelier not the fireflies dragging among friend! Let me be that, near the sky like a travelled sleeves, leaning out goods, ballast, guns, and tomorrow. He linkt a

dead leaf, or as a dead leaf, or as a dead man chatter is enough for all the time, there be yet another of pearl dissolving human ties, spreads around, and waves, and dame

and go less. Night-long with too merry tune, by my soul, and gold, like dew, upon a thousand fragrant posies, and far into a passion all silver white than I cast by his

mothers’ pray’r? The innumerable than the dusk of a night at all. Speed therefore The Sage set in Salámán’s Eyes a Soothingly with silver-shedding day-hymn stole aloft,

and scar And what our pot of thy hand, asleep, when you and time; for shame, to say just when to hear, with coral grove, no oracle, no heat the wild. For more I view! To teach them.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #161 texts #ballad

0 notes

casspurrjoybell-19 · 9 months ago

Text

Does it Matter? - Chapter 28 - Part 2

*Warning: Adult Content*

"Bug attempted to... initiate something... with me last night."

"Attempted to?"

"I started to go along with it but I put a stop to things before they went too far."

"Why?"

"Having sex with slaves is illegal here. Having sex with someone else's slave without their permission is illegal everywhere."

Dara lifted his knees up and rested his arms across them.

"Yet you brought this up as part of a conversation about morality, not legality."

"Yes. I don't really know where I'm going with any of this."

"Why do you think he tried to have sex with you?" Brayan shrugged.

"He said he just wanted to. I was sceptical but I think that was likely the truth. He was just lonely and looking for some companionship."

"That doesn't sound immoral to me."

"No, I suppose not. But it is illegal, and I probably won't see him again, so it doesn't really matter."

"Hmm."

Brayan polished the boots in silence for another few minutes and Dara assumed the conversation was over but suddenly he spoke up again.

"How did the Eth come to have magic? Do you know?"

Dara smiled.

"That's a big question. You're doing a lot of thinking, aren't you?"

Brayan finally set the boots aside and looked at Dara properly.

"I generally do but about this, today, yes. So, do you know?"

"What do you think?"

"I've heard various things," Brayan said.

"The original belief, of course, was that there was some hidden spring of power or something that had been dug out of the ground. Something of value in the land itself. That was the reason for the war. Now I think most people would say that it's something that runs in the Eth bloodline, though I can't say I really know where that comes from."

"Yes, it is inherited," Dara confirmed.

"Yet the war persists."

"Well, the war isn't really about the Eth anymore. Before the war, the Eth controlled the mountain ranges. Nobody else wanted that land and it was a comfortable buffer between two more powerful kingdoms. Now, without that neutral buffer, neither side can back down without the other creeping too close for comfort."

"Well, we're happy to take our land back any time."

Brayan grimaced.

"I do wish it were that simple."

Dara lifted the blanket up and wrapped it around his shoulders.

He had recovered quite well but his body was still struggling with little things like regulating its own temperature.

He really needed to go at least a week before nearly getting killed again next time if he was to have a chance to fully recover in a timely fashion.

"Would you like to hear the story of how the Eth got their magic?"

Brayan watched Dara with interest.

"Yes, I would."

"Keep in mind that this is just a story and that it's what I remember from when I was little, so don't take this as a factual account."

"Noted."

"Okay, so there were these two travellers who arrived one day at a small Eth settlement, a man and a woman. Now, Eth are travellers ourselves but these two came from faraway lands, from places unknown. They spoke our language perfectly but they weren't familiar with our customs or the lay of the land."

"Magic, I assume?"

Dara nodded.

"I don't remember when or how they revealed that part but it was magic of course. Anyway, the woman was pregnant and not long after they arrived she had a child, a son. They wanted to keep travelling but if they did they wouldn't be able to bring their son with them. For magical reasons, I think. I don't remember."

"Magical reasons seem like a safe assumption."

"Hmm," Dara agreed.

"So they stayed and they raised their son and they shared some of their knowledge with us. I don't know the whole of it but Mathers would have been taught from the medical book they wrote. All good doctors are."

Brayan inclined his head in confirmation.

"He still has it. I've read it myself. I always assumed it was written by healers. Who else could know that disease and infection can be caused by tiny, invisible creatures?"

"I don't think they were healers and honestly, that's not quite something I could have intuited myself from being a healer. The way I do what I do is a bit more abstract."

"Well, magic, anyway. If it's magic, it makes sense. Or rather it makes wildly less sense but I no longer expect it to, so I don't have to worry about it."

Dara smiled.

"Yes. I find it's easier that way."

"So then what happened? The man and the woman, did they just stay forever?"

"I don't think so but their son did. He had many children with many women and some of them inherited strange powers and now, many generations later, it's just something that pops up from time to time among the Eth."

"Ah. The only thing that runs in my family is this weird thing where some of our joints bend further than usual."

Brayan demonstrated by using his other hand to casually bend his thumb so far back that it nearly touched his wrist.

It looked like it ought to hurt but he was experiencing no pain.

He released it again.

"Magic is more impressive but nobody has ever tried to enslave me for my weird thumb thing."

"Well, maybe your time will come. It is quite peculiar looking."

"It would be no more unjust."

Dara watched Brayan curiously.

It hadn't been long since Brayan had sat him down and taught him proper behaviour, had thought of him as nothing more than an annoyance or perhaps an opportunity for some momentary pleasure.

But now... things were different now and not just between the two of them as Dara had assumed.

This change in him wasn't just because he now knew Dara was a healer.

The short time he'd spent with Bug had left a lasting mark on him.

"Brayan... it's okay to be sad about Bug, you know."

"Hmm," was all Brayan said as he picked one of the boots back up and returned to polishing it.

1 note · View note

powertrumpeter · 2 years ago

Text

Can They Allow Peter Obi: The Exemplary Leader To Be President

We have observed the antecedence of Peter Obi, right from the period he was Governor of Anambra State, as far back as 2013. He is an exemplary leader, who can be compared with Nelson Mandela of South Africa and Julius Nyerere of Tanzania, in simplicity, honesty and integrity.

He chose to live simple lifestyle, devoid of long convoy of vehicles; excessive travelling with multiple allowances claims, inflated contracts, etc. There was a time he rejected free lands allocated to him. As well, he turned down inflated budgetary allocation to Government House. He was impeached by State Assembly for his integrity; as he refused to mismanage or share state fund. He was later reinstated by law Court.

He lectured political office holders on prudent spending and accountability. He took the decision to leave People’s Democratic Party (PDP), as he refused to join Ghana-Must-Go money sharing bazaar, which overwhelmed delegates at the party’s Presidential Primary Election.

It appears he is the only Governor, from Southern Nigeria, who didn’t have issues with EFCC, or any other Anti-Corruption Agencies. They have not found any sharp corrupt practices against him, to warrant his arrest and prosecution. The fact remains he is easily the best, among all those contesting to be President of Nigeria come 2023. But, will he be allowed to occupy the seat, even if he eventually wins the election, being an Igbo man? There is a long standing conspiracy in the country, against Ibos to rule Nigeria. It started with the brutal assassination of Aguiyi Ironsi in 1966, after being barely 6 months in power. At the end of Nigerian civil war in 1970, Northern leaders in collaboration with Yorubas, held meeting and resolved that nobody from Ibo tribe will ever rule Nigeria. That was about fifty-two years ago. And it has remained so till date.

Our people have been excluded from the scheme of things, to the extend we are merely part of Nigeria by territory. There has been systematic repression and killings of Igbos, even in this current government. The few Igbos who made spirited efforts to contest and clinch power at the centre, have been blackmailed, accused of one embezzlement or the other, arrested, tried, humiliated and frustrated. They have remained at the corridor of power for more than half a century; picking crumbs which fall from their slave masters’ tables.

From the look of things, it appears Obi may break through the barrage of obstacles, and become the next President. He and his Labour Party, are having overwhelming support, across the length and breathe of the country. Virtually, people of all tribes are fed up with this tribal and retrogressive government. Killings everywhere! Terrorists and Bandits have even penetrated Abuja, the Federal Capital Territory. Just recently, they broke into Kuje Prisons in Abuja, to release their colleagues held there. Nobody is safe anywhere in the country.

Now, enemies of progress are laying all forms of stumbling blocks against Peter Obi. His magnificent superstore at Abuja was burnt down by strange fire outbreak. His goods were looted in the inferno. He is being warned by sponsored armed gangs, not to campaign anywhere in the North. These are calculated attempts, to weaken and intimate him to quit the presidential race. Voter registrations are going on in Northern neighbouring countries like Niger Republic and Chad. They are predominantly Muslims. It could be recalled during the last Presidential elections, those nationals flooded the country to vote. Large number of them still remain in Nigeria, engaging in banditry and other criminal activities. Can they quench this lone voice from the East? Time shall tell.

Igbo man being President of Nigeria, will go a long way in addressing some of the injustice meted out to us. However, it can never be a lasting solution, to what we are passing through in the hands of our taskmasters; who will eventually come back to take power in near future. The way out of our problems with Nigeria, is to eventually leave the country. If not, we will still be back to square one.

Take a cue from the Yorubas; and there present situation, after their sons have ruled Nigeria for long. Obasanjo governed the country for a total of almost 12 years: both as Military Head of State, and as Civilian President. Apart from him, Ernest Shonekun was Interim President for three months, before he was kicked out of power. Osinbajo will soon complete his tenure of eight years as Vice President. He was Acting President, most of time the incumbent President was abroad for medical treatment.

When Obasanjo was in power, Yoruba land was peaceful: devoid of terrorist activities. Things were moving smoothly for them that period. He has since left the stage; and the Northerners have resumed the stranglehold of the country. Are the Yorubas smiling now, despite the fact that their son Obasanjo, presided over Nigeria longtime ago? The answer is no. They are at the mercy of Jihadist terrorists who have taken over their forests. The so-called bandits from the North, are killing people in every part of the country including South West. Those at the helm affairs pretend to be ignorant of what is happening. There’s a grand plan to allow those cattle rearrers living in the forests (disguised Jihadists), to drive away the inhabitants from their ancestral homes and take possession.

Biafra project is unstoppable. We are like Israelites who were living under bondage in Egypt. Later, God rescued them out of the land to a place He prepared for them. We need a country to call our own, to enable us attain our full potentials, unhindered. Biafra is the future of our unborn generation. The earlier we leave the better for us. Had it been Israel remained in Egypt till today, they wouldn’t have been able to reach such enviable heights in development, freedom of worship and expression.

If somebody from South East becomes President of Nigeria, it is good. We all pray for that. It will be a temporary relief, from the terrible condition we have found ourselves in. It can never be a permanent solution. We wish Peter Obi success in his endeavours. And let the will of God be done in his life. However, Nnamdi Kanu has an edge as Biafra leader. He and his colleagues are highly committed, to the emancipation of our people from that forced marriage called Nigeria. Our oppressors have the grand design to continue to hold us under bondage perpetually, even after the expiration of the tenure of the Igbo man as President.... https://powertrumpeter.org/blog1/monumental-corruption-and-bloodshed-in-nigeria.

1 note · View note

phenomenal1500 · 3 years ago

Text

~From Outer Space~

Masterlist

Summary: Reader is not from Earth, but ends up there when she has to fight back for her family's throne. She is trying to keep her origin a secret though because her family and story is a well known legend and no one would believe her anyway. However, Natasha does and tells her it's okay to tell her the truth.

Pairing: Natalia Alianovna Romanoff x Fem!Royal!Magician!Reader

Warning: None.

Y/N had been living with the Avengers for around 4 weeks now. They had taken her in when she was knocking on their door in panic with injuries and cuts covering her body everywhere. No one knew by what she was hurt, but they didn't even bother asking. The woman needed help and that was enough for the Avengers to take her in.

The truth was that Y/N Y/L/N was from outer space. She came from a beautiful and colourful planet, a planet with world peace and true love, but it had all been taken away and destroyed by a horrible group of evil people that wanted to claim the throne for themselves. A part of her family had been murdered during the ambush and the rest were locked up as slaves, except for the young princess. The woman was lucky she had run away because she was mad at her father one night before and once she noticed a war was going on back at the palace, she left her home planet immediately because that was what her father had taught her to do in such a situation.

Even if she was a well-trained assassin and magician, she was too precious to use as a weapon and so she ran.

Y/N was currently sitting in Tony's lab alone, watching old holographic videos of her family she had recorded over the years with burning tears in her eyes.... She missed them.... Even her father that sometimes could be so stern she wasn't even allowed to leave her room for months when she attended a party or her brothers that were always pushing her aside and into their shadows because she was a girl. She couldn't care less about that anymore. She missed everyone and everything from her planet.

She had isolated herself from the team when the grief of her fallen planet hit her. She had stopped eating and had stopped sleeping, but it wasn't like she needed it that badly anyway. She wasn't from this planet. She didn't need food or sleep to survive. She just acted like she really needed it to blend in, but one person could see through it all.

Natasha was someone who also had learned how to blend into a group she didn't belong in and so knew from day one Y/N wasn't like them.... wasn't human.

She first gave the new woman time to tell them the truth herself, but since she figured that wasn't going to happen Nat decided to come and pay her a visit.

"Y/N?" Nat slowly walked into Tony's lab, seeing the woman trying to hold back her tears as she stared at blue holographic footage playing in front of her.

"I'm okay." She sniffled and closed her eyes, a warm tear falling from the corner of her eye to her cheek while she tried to soothe Nat with her words. It didn't work though. She knew that. Nat could always read her emotions perfectly and so she didn't bother to hide the videos from her anymore, just letting them play in the background. "I'm okay, I promise.”

"You're not." Nat whispered lovingly, walking to the woman slowly and sitting on a desk in front of her so she could wipe away her single tear. "Tell me what's going on, honey."

"I.... I can't."

"Yes you can." She pulled Y/N out of Tony's lounge chair and hugged her tightly, enveloping her in her arms. "Please."

"I.... I'm not from her-...."

"I know." Nat interrupted her and her hands rubbed her back calming. "I don't care about that. That doesn't make you any different, but do please tell me what happened back at your home. I know something bad happened or else you wouldn't have ended up bleeding at our doorstep."

"An elite group took over my home planet.... I was supposed to be crowned that month, but I lost the throne and my home to the hostile group." She buried her face in the red-haired neck while she bursted out in tears. "I lost everything.... my crown, my family, my safe haven. I could teleport myself out right before I was taken too, but I need to get it back. It's my duty to protect and take back my home."

"And we could help you with it." She kissed her forehead as she pulled back to look at her in her bloodshot eyes. "We will help you with it."

"You don't have to."

"But I want to. I know how it feels to lose family and your home. Almost all of us do, and us assassins need to help ourselves out too, right?" Nat gave her a warm and welcoming smile.

"Yeah...."

"I will make sure you'll become what you were meant to become in the place you love the most." Nat promised the woman and held her close. "Because I love you."

"You.... you do?" Y/N watched her with puppy eyes and dried all her tears with the back of her hands.

"Yes and I will help you." Nat confirmed and smiled widely as she saw hope sparkle in the future queen's eyes, hope for a future with Nat too because Y/N loved the woman in front of her just as much.

#natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff #marvel #Natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #angst #fluff #one shot #my requests are always open!

155 notes · View notes

acatalystrising · 2 years ago

Text

I’m back with today’s oneshot! This is another softttt one (I can’t help it okay I promise there will be more angst this month lollll) so pretty light in regards to trigger warnings!

There is a mention of past slavery and abuse, but otherwise SFW. Enjoy!

Oneshot: The Daimyo’s Wish

You saw the way the women looked at him - all starry eyed and blushing. Not that you could blame them.

Boba Fett, the new Daimyo, was a sight to behold.

Clad in Mandalorian beskar, cutting an iconic figure everywhere he went - he was a legend, one that crawled from the very depths of hell to claim his throne. It made for a good story, one that inspired fear and respect. You’d heard the tales of his life as a formidable bounty hunter - stories that rightly sent a chill down your spine. And when he’d taken Fortuna’s place, you’d been afraid.

After all, you’d been enslaved in the palace for years, and the prospect of being subjected to a crueler boss was terrifying.

And yet…he’d freed you all.

Even now, as you lounged against a back wall in the massive room, eyes flitting over the guests gathered beyond, conversing as music played - you almost felt human. Your dress was certainly an upgrade from the revealing attire you’d been forced to wear for years.

Laughter rolled through the crowd, and you suppressed a flinch, taking a sip of your spotchka to soothe your nerves. It was your day off - you had no reason to feel guilty for standing here, alone. But still, it slithered down your throat and locked in your chest, threatening to constrict further.

Movement flickered across the room and you saw him, tall and broad and impossibly commanding - helmet tucked against his side. He wore a small smile, something you imagined he’d had to adapt to, judging by the darkness that always lingered in his eyes. Boba Fett was a dangerous man, no matter what setting he was placed in. A weapon built for war. And yet, there was a magnetic presence to him - something you tried your best to endure. You couldn’t deny the way he affected you, even in the smallest conversation, leaving butterflies in your stomach and would last for days. But the last thing you needed was to catch feelings for someone who would never feel the same about you.

You watched him pass a trio of your coworkers, smile widening ever so slightly, and you felt a distinct burn of jealously roll in your gut when he stopped to speak to them, those lips curled in a grin, before he went on his way, disappearing back into the crowd.

Stars, you had to get him out of your mind.

You chugged the rest of your drink and made your way to the bar, nodding at Fennec as the master assassin passed on her rounds. Yes, you’d been freed. But you hadn’t had anywhere to go - opting to remain at the palace, albeit employed and paid, and had tried your best to keep to yourself.

You leaned against the bar’s cool surface and ordered another drink, a sigh slipping through your lips. You’d never had it this good, truly…but you hated the deep ache of loneliness that sank to the very core of your being.

“Hey pretty lady.” A nasally voice cut through your thoughts, and you turned, meeting the lusty gaze of a thin, well dressed man.

He couldn’t be much older than you, but he was repulsive, his eyes raking over you like you belonged to him. And you hated it, the instinct to cower, your years as a slave still a recent memory. But you did your best to keep a firm, disinterested gaze. It didn’t seem to faze him.

“You’re too hot to be all by yourself, want some company?” He sided up against you, licking his lips, hand sliding across the counter toward your arm. “I’d love to take you somewhere more private, get between those-“

“She’s not alone.” A much deeper male voice rolled like thunder, and you glanced over your shoulder, finding none other than Boba Fett himself standing behind you.

“Oh, Fett, kriff,” the man instantly backed away with a nervous grin, hands raised slightly in the air. “Apologies.”

Boba didn’t respond, instead, he took the man’s place at the bar - leaning against the table with his gauntleted arms crossed. You swallowed, heat crawling up your throat and burning your ears, and you did your best to stay calm despite the thrill, not terror, that coursed through your veins.

“Did he hurt you?” Boba’s voice was soft, as if for you alone.

You blinked, feeling his gaze on you, and turned to meet it - his eyes gentler then you’d remembered. You’d interacted with the Daimyo on many occasions since he’d taken over, and he still felt so larger than life to you. You’d definitely never been this close to him helmetless, noting, much to your inner panic, that he was even more attractive then you’d realized. And here he was, flesh and blood, talking to you.

“I…no, he didn’t, but thank you.” You dipped your head and shrugged. “You didn’t have to do that…but it’s appreciated.”

“You looked upset.” A seriousness settled in his tone, eyes still soft, but expression shifting to something slightly darker. “I won’t pretend to know what hardships you’ve endured. But a woman as beautiful as you deserves respect.”

You felt the blush creep to your cheeks at his words and you ducked your head, horrified. Surely he saw - he probably found it amusing at best. Forgettable at worst. He was only being kind, you told yourself. He probably spoke like this to your coworkers as well. You still weren’t special, even though you were still grateful that he’d intervened.

“You’re too kind…” you fixed your gaze on your hands, fighting the urge to nervously pick at your nails. “But it’s okay. The others are much prettier than me, so I’m usually able to get away.”

“Why would you think that?” His tone was gentle, patient. So unlike the men you’d had to deal with. It almost made you look up at him. “You shouldn’t have to hide.”

“It’s…nothing. Really, I don’t want to bother you.” You shifted, swallowing hard, expecting him to take the chance to bow out of the conversation and move along. He was the Daimyo, after all.

“You can be honest with me, mesh’la,” his voice, if anything, grew softer. You felt the soft leather of his gloves brush under your chin, turning your gaze to face him. “Of all the people in this palace, you’re the one who made an impression.”

You blinked, shock rippling through you. This was too good to be true - a fantasy, not reality. But you felt his strong fingers cupping your chin, his closeness so intoxicating, it was all you could do to stay on your feet.

“Really? You’re serious?” You couldn’t fully mask the shock in your voice. “I had no idea…”

“I didn’t want to frighten you, I know all of this,” he gestured at his armor, “doesn’t exactly come across as comforting. If I make you uncomfortable, I’ll stop. I want you to feel safe.”

“Oh, the armor doesn’t…you don’t make me uncomfortable. Ever since you took over, I’ve never felt safer. You lead by example.” You dared to speak your mind, and you noted it had been the right thing to do when a deep chuckle rolled through you.

“Pretty and smart, hmm?” You blushed when his thumb lightly caressed your cheek, just subtle enough to be noticeable. You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning into his touch. “Full of surprises, aren’t you, little one?”

Gods, his voice would be the end of you…

“I…I guess I’m always used to being looked over. Even as a slave. And to think that I actually have worth…that’s not something I’m familiar with.” You dared to meet his gaze, swallowing hard. “You set me free, gave me a life, a job…I don’t know how to thank you. You’ve already done so much…”

“You think too little of yourself,” he removed his hand, and you felt tethered regardless, forcing yourself to keep a straight face as he crossed his arms and leaned against the counter, regarding you with a smile. “Walk with me?”

You were nodding before your thoughts could catch up with your actions, logic screaming that he was still a stranger, a man, someone who could hurt you. But deep down, you knew he wouldn’t. His character had already shown that.

“Let’s go somewhere quieter,” he extended a gloved hand, which you took, and followed as he led you out of the room and into the palace beyond.

You stood on an ornately carved balcony, light colored stone smoothed by years of wind and sand. It was simple, elegant in its own way. But the stars…they were gorgeous, dotting the expanse above even as the three moons illuminated the sky.

Surprisingly, you didn’t feel at all nervous to be alone with Boba. You found yourself talking about anything and everything, laughter often frequenting your conversation. He leaned against the balcony beside you, big hands draped over the railing, dark green beskar gleaming in the moonlight.

“This…is gorgeous,” you turned to face Boba, and was struck by how regal he looked in the soft lighting - a king in his kingdom. You felt you paled significantly in comparison.

“As are you. I’m glad I finally worked up the courage to speak with you,” he regarded you with a gleam in his eye, lips curved in a smile. “Your company has truly been welcome.”

You felt another blush creep to your cheeks, and tried so hard to focus on words when he was this close. Your shoulders were nearly touching.

“I’m nothing special, seriously,” you shrugged and he raised a brow, but patiently waited for you to finish. “I’m not trying to be negative. I just never felt that way.”

He shifted to fully face you, standing to his full height, and gestured at you with a gentle flourish of a gloved hand. “May I?”

Slightly confused but curious, you nodded, and you felt the breath leave your lungs when he wrapped a strong arm around your shoulders, holding you close to his chest.

“You’re worth more than that, little one.” He lifted his free hand to caress your cheek, and you shuddered, leaning into his touch. He grinned softly but didn’t comment on it, tone still soft, nearly protective. “And if you’ll allow me, I’d love to get to know you better. And in time, when you’re ready…show you just how special you are.”

#boba fett x f!reader #boba fett x reader #boba fett fic #daimyo boba fett #book of boba fett #boba fett #acatalystrising writes #october writing challenge #my writing #boba fett fanfiction #star wars #tbobf

84 notes · View notes

slothgiirl · 3 years ago

Text

the spy part 1(keith x reader)

8k. explicit content. while on medical leave reader meets the red paladin of voltron during the war against Zarkon.

The corridors are well lit. It’s like being in a brand new hospital, this ship in the rebel fleet.

People hustle around, landing, taking off in smaller ships to distant planets. Your hand goes to your arm. The medic had given you a movement’s leave, so you were resting for now on this ever moving ship.

Outside the widows, you spy an assortment of ships, each one’s origins clear from the design. So many planets, so many peoples banding together against Zarkon. You’d win the war.

It was what you kept telling yourself.

You would.

It was just a matter of time.

You round the corner, stretching your arm across your chest, a simple form of physical therapy in deep space. You hadn’t seen earth since being deployed. The galaxy garrison seemed like a dream from another life. You had been on track for the chemistry department, long term missions to mars to analyze soil and dust, not this, not a war. You take a breath.

And spot the Red Paladin.

He’s one of the most recognizable people in the universe, and his grungy hair and distinctive outfit does him no favors. You’d never seen him before, not in the flesh. Sure. Voltron had saved your ass a handful of times. You wouldn’t have survived the assault on Arrakis if Voltron hadn’t rammed the shield. Trapped. Piloting a fighter craft that was closer to a mosquito irritating the Galra then pushing them back.

But you hardly knew him.

He’s gripping the railing tightly, trying to camouflage into the wall as an alien with crystalline blue skin and hair like saturated indigo leans into him.

The line of his shoulders is taut, brittle.

You don’t even think.

“There you are,” you force yourself to be synthetically cheerful as you smile easily at the paladin, who you realize quickly you don’t know his name but you know what he is and that must be an awful feeling, being so recognizable without being known. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” you lied, elbowing the blue alien out of the way. You could never tell much from a single glance at themis species despite their largely humanoid appearance.

You put your hand on his arm loosely, “come on, we’re late enough and you know how annoyed the others get.” Good, that seemed convincing enough.

The red paladin’s eyes go wide, his mouth a grimace and it’s then that you notice the feverish flush to his skin.

But he doesn’t pull away or argue.

You ignore the alien and decide small talk was the way to go until you put some distance, “I’m kind of hurt you didn’t come visit me while I was healing,” you stick close to the truth, “but since it only took an hour? a varga? for me to heal I won’t hold it against you.” He’s too warm.

Maybe the space flu?

Was that even a thing?

You weren't sure.

Mostly, you snuck into work camps and blew up strategic targets using whatever you could get your hands on to make a bomb. The chemistry came in handy.

He sways as he walks, looking like your roommate at the garrison after a few too many hits after an exam. “Do I know you?”

You flush, embarrassed. “Sorry, I just,” you look back, but the alien’s been left a couple turns back, “you looked uncomfortable.” You take a step back, letting go of him. “Are you okay?”

His expression furrows, mouth a pinched line as he goes from suspicious to annoyed, takes a u-turn back to suspicious as he studies you, before relaxing. “Yeah. yeah. . .who are you?”

You introduce yourself, taking on the meaningless garrison designation at the end, “technically second year member, though I’ve been with the runners mostly.” No designation more than a number.

“You do look human,” he replies simply, moving to get a look at your ears, “not many of those out here.”

“And yet somehow the sentries always look the other way,” you muse, “not very bright. I’m almost convinced the Empire’s in it’s failing bureaucracy days.”

He winces, before deadpanning, “eh, I don’t know how useful a lion is against the DMV.”

You laugh.

He takes slow deliberate breaths, steadying himself, “I’m Keith.”

“Seriously though, do you need to see a medic?” He looked in serious need of a tylenol. The ships were usually crisp, you wore a jacket most of the time to stave off the permanent chill.

Keith shakes his head, chewing his lip before meeting your gaze with an intense concentration in his violet eyes, as if he was gauging how much titrant he could add before hitting the endpoint and if half a drop was worth the risk. “I’m just. . .going through something.”

“Anyone I can call for you?” You weren't about to abandon him here. Sure, he was a paladin and could probably look after himself. But you couldn’t in good conscience walk away.

He swallows, looking down for a moment and you are startled to find how much you miss his attention boring into you with the loveliest eyes you’d ever seen.

“No,” Keith replies mulishly as he jerks away from you. “I’m fine.”

Which was a total lie. It was obvious he wasn’t feeling well but you weren’t about to get on his case. You were sure he had people for that. He wasn’t some random soldier in arms with you that you watched out for and hoped not to have to watch die.

You swallow the bitter thought away, crossing your arms over your chest.

Leaning back against the hall, you watch evenly as Keith stumbles, catching himself on the wall. His mouth is a drawn line of determination.

You didn’t understand why.

There was aid here. It wasn’t the same as crawling through cramped mining tunnels and swallowing back pain forcing yourself to work through it until the mission was accomplished.

“Do you need help,” you ask.

“No.” He leans a hand against the wall.

You raise a brow, wondering if he would pass out for whatever weird space flu he had clearly caught and you could only hope it was nothing like the infections that ran rampant in the work camps, or if he would give in and accept your offer of help. The former seemed more likely.

You don’t ditch him though, focusing your attention on the porthole to the stars.

There was no rush: no reason to help him by force. People didn’t learn if you babied them you’d caught on quick back on earth during your tutoring hours. You had to let them fall and smash their face in sometimes.

So you stay, watching the stars.

Keith makes no move to take another step.

It still got you, looking out into the vastness of space and realizing this really was your life now, you were out here, further than you’d ever dreamed. Everywhere you looked, novel stars, distant planets teaming with life. You could have done without the war, but it was what it was.

“And here I thought Mars would be the furthest I’d go,” you comment more to yourself than Keith.

The red paladin makes a small sound of acknowledgement.

“Earth’s, or was, at the beginning of our space age. People had barely begun to live on the research bases on Mars,” you watch him out of the corner of your eye in case he really does pass out, “so no Star Trek for me but now I’m here.”

“There’s a war going on.”

You turn over to look at him, sort of annoyed because yeah you got that, spent enough time in the trenches without a fancy lion spaceship, but the bubbling annoyance dissipates when you see the upturned corners of his mouth. Keith was teasing you.

Shifting your weight, you add, “yeah well, instead of being a footnote in a Mars base’s history I’ll be a footnote in this war instead.” Gallows humor. You needed a lot of that when regularly infiltrating camps and posing as a slave, as a prisoner, the bottom of the barrel that wouldn’t get a second glance from the Galra soldiers.

He frowns. “I don't think anyone’s just a footnote.”

“I was joking.”

“Oh.” Keith looks away.

You feel bad. “It’s probably better not to be so cynical,” you muse, “but it’s like the vice president thing, no one remembers them unless the president gets assassinated.” God you couldn’t help how dark your humor could veer even when trying to be positive.

He looks over at you, head tilted, considering. Despite being standoffish, Keith was easy to read unlike the slick space pirates you’d encountered.

You meet his gaze head on.

“I might need some help,” he allows.

You bite the inside of your cheek, fighting the smile that pulled at the corners of your mouth. “If you’re sure,” you utter, regarding him carefully and unable to keep the teasing from your voice. You shouldn’t. You barely knew him and what little you’d learned made it clear he wouldn’t take well to your teasing.

War made quick brothers out of everyone.

But Keith held himself afar.

A questioning glance danced in his uniquely violet eyes as he tried to get a read on you. “I am.”

You nod, stepping besides him and wrapping an arm around his waist. You were always caught by surprise by how heavy a grown adult could be. And depending on the alien. . .

He takes a step, still holding himself afar from you, barely resting any weight on you. His muscles were stiff under your touch, back rigid that matched the uncomfortable look on his chiselled features.

You follow his lead.

At Keith’s sedate pace, it would take quite a while before you dropped him off where you needed to go. Being personable was part of being a leader or it’d lead to mutiny. Not that you had ever gotten that far. The Galaxy Garrison had slapped the graduation badge on your uniform and sent you into space.

You scrabble for familiar territory, earth and the garrison. The Black Paladin was a Garrison member returned from the grave. Rumor had it all the paladins were garrison deserters.

Veronica McCain did share a familiar resemblance with the blue paladin. It was probably true.

“I attended the Garrison campus at Guiana,” you offer. “I was hoping for Texas or Florida to be closer to home, but I didn’t test into pilot or engineer.”

Keith makes a sound in the back of his throat.

Even through the fabric of his uniform, he felt warm. How anybody could be warm in such cold halls was anybody’s guess. A permanent chill had sunk its way into your bones. You missed the humid heat of Guiana.

“It was nice though. The jungle was pretty close and it was always hot,” you tell him. “I thought I wouldn’t miss the humidity, step outside and it was like having just showered but I do. These ships have to be at 15 C.”

“Texas is hot too.” Keith utters quietly.

“Isn’t the desert cold at night though,” you ask, already knowing the answer. It had been basic earth science.

“Yeah. It is.” There’s longing in his voice. You wish he’d say more just to hear him speak.

Warmth spreads, an embarrassing tell, through your cheeks.

“I did miss the snow while there,” you continue, “it didn’t snow much up in Vancouver but it was never as hot as Guiana, and the rain was warm!” You had never gotten over that. The rain would spot and start throughout the day but the sun would keep on shining.

“What were you,” Keith asks bluntly.

“Chemisist, more the physical and inorganic type,” you admit, “it was fun doing wet labs.” That had gotten you hooked back in regular school. “Then got shunted to command track after a few too many volunteering opportunities. Guess the lesson there’s to not try too hard.”

That gets a laugh out of him.

“You,” you ask him as he shifts more of his weight onto you, finally accepting the help he asked for. Stubborn guy.

“Pilot.”

You look over at him, his wild hair brushing against your cheek and the simple action shouldn’t excite you but it does. He was hot with sharp features offset by a certain enthralling earnestness but he could run a comb through his hair.

Keith didn’t seem the pilot type: arrogant, loud, generally strong personalities.

“You any good,” you ask though you’ve heard about Voltron so he has to be pretty fucking good to be part of them. How did Voltron choose its pilots?

He smirks easily, close to a smile at the mere mention of piloting and you knew that moment he loved it: didn’t matter if he was good at it or not. You swallow hard as anticipation buzzes under your skin for no good reason.

Get your head out of the gutter, you tell yourself.

“I’m a pretty good pilot,” Keith answers, somehow managing to sound like he’s stating a fact instead of bragging.

“Just pretty good?” You smile at him, letting him know you were only joking around as you both round another corner, finally making it to the transient quarters. People were always dropping in and out of mobile spaceports like these.

He snorts. “Better than most.” Keith shrugs, smiling over at you.

“Don’t be modest on my account,” you utter, looking away, not sure what to do about the growing heat in your body that had nothing to do with temperature controls.

“It’s true,” he says simply.

Honesty was a hard thing to come by. You were finding more and more reasons to like the red paladin as you reach his current room. No special treatment here.

Or maybe it was politics and optics, making sure everyone knew Voltron was of the people and not aiming to replace Zarkon as rulers of the universe.

Keith places a hand against the door, putting space between you both.

You swallow, glancing away, feeling some of the tension ease.

“You sure you don’t want me to send a medic,” you ask him, looking over at his striking eyes. The heat under your skin is a live wire: you curl your toes in your shoes. People usually didn’t affect you this much. Even the smell of him was so distinct, drawing you in.

It was an unprecedented reaction.

He must feel it too.

Keith studies you with an enraptured fascination shining in his wide eyes, mouth parted on the verge of answering. Both your bodies sway towards each other like branches in the wind: sunflowers orienting towards the sun.

You shift your weight from one foot to another.

It relieves enough tension for you to shift away.

“No. No medic,” Keith finally answers.

“Right then.” But you don’t make a move to leave.

He says nothing.

The silence is broken by the hum of the ship's engines under your feet. People move about and you can hear their footsteps echoing on the metal floors.

Supposedly quintessence powered ships smelled like ozone.

This one was powered by crystals and some Olkari engine. You wouldn't know the specifics, they were beyond you. And not your job.

You look back at him, ready to leave. The space between you could so easily tilt to awkward and you weren’t sure what you were doing or why you found yourself so entranced by Keith. You barely knew him. You didn’t want to be one of the soldiers with a photograph in your pocket and a farflung hope that you’d-

He’s looking at you, cautious, movements slow and deliberate as if he’s caught between thinking and simply doing.

Then Keith’s demeanour becomes determined: deciding to take the leap without looking down. He cups your cheeks in his hands and kisses you.

For a second you’re baffled, trying to figure out how you got to point B when this wasn’t a bar and you had no agenda, before you shrug and kiss him back. Keith was undeniably attractive. He was even a bit taller than you which was compelling, you were on the tall side for a girl.

It’s not some unsolvable thought experiment, you kiss him back.

And a current of static electricity runs through your core. Heat pools after only just a kiss that steals your breath away.

You can’t get enough, his hands warm against your skin, igniting a delicious sensation in your very core. You want more. You kiss him harder, your mouth against his, sucking on his bottom lip.

Your hands clutch at the fabric of his shift.

Keith kisses you back, matching your frenzied energy, his mouth parting against yours and pulling you flush against his chest.

It does nothing to dissolve the tension, the charged energy between you spikes. Like a fire fed by wood it grew.

It was a heady feeling, his hands caressing your cheeks as Keith kissed you with a vigor you thought only existed in soapy dramas. Heat pools in your belly like a sinking stone: you liked his intensity.

Keith pulls away, catching his breath, resting his forehead against yours.

Some of the muddled list clears from your head, now completely in the gutter as you press Keith against the door to his room.

Oh. . .were you really doing this?

Keith looks a fuckable mess, his eyes flickering from your lips to your eyes. Still, he hesitates.

You can feel the question linger in the air, can feel it in the featherlight touch of his hands ghosting over your cheeks as he makes to pull away, to let you go if you want to turn back now. But you don’t.

You want to run your hands through his hair. You’re practically burning up wondering how Keith would look splayed on the bed between your thighs. . .how he would feel.

Would he be just as intense in bed as he fucked you?

“You feel it too,” he asks quietly.

You furrow your brows, thrown. There were a lot of intense emotions coursing through you all narrowed down to feeling horny as a teenager back on earth. Masturbation only went so far.

You swallow, trying to rack your brain cells together and say something. Yeah. It was a bit. . .much. Space much. But that didn’t make any sense. You hadn’t taken any drinks from strangers.

The connection was too strong to discount the possibility of space weirdness affecting both of you.

“Yeah,” you reply, sounding more whiny than you’d like to. The apex of your thighs throbbed with want. Anticipation had built up and he was right there; Keith

s breath fanned over you, his forehead against yours like a touchpoint.

Your fingers were still curled into the fabric of his shirt.

In the hall.

Where anyone could see.

“So what now,” you ask, “medic?”

Keith snorts, “No. I just-do you want to come inside?”

You smirk. Everyone knew what that meant. There were so many variations with the same outcome.

“Yeah. Okay.” You put a pin in any alien space nonsense and slip inside Keith’s assigned quarters for however long Voltron was here for.

The lights are off. You don’t bother to study the room when Keith crushes his mouth against yours. You stumble around in the dark, feeling emboldened now that he’d voiced an invitation, he wanted this as much as you did, and run your hands up his chest. He was lean and lithe. Keith leans into your touch, a shiver running down his spine when you run your fingers through his hair and run your tongue over his bottom lip.

Keith moans, the sound scratchy from the back of his throat excites you.

It was thrilling to know you could elicit such a response from someone. You liked feeling hot and sexy. And from a guy like Keith who you were vibing with. . .

He finds the jagged hem of your cut tank top, which had doubled as a bandage, and slides his hands under your shirt. His fingers are calloused, skin hot against yours and there was always something so carnal about skin on skin touch. Keith clutches at your sides and leads you backwards.

You trust that he knows the layout.

Your mind has boiled down to simple desires.

“Keith,” you mumble against his mouth as he guides your hips against his and you feel his cock beneath the fabric. It goes straight to your ego: straight to your pussy.

More heat. It’s unbearable how much your body throbs and you moan against him, against his lips, your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling.

“Mhm,” he asks, just as overcome with lust as you were. Keith tilts his head up, and you kiss his jaw, kiss the side of his throat, nipping at the flesh and enjoying the breathy moans he makes as your knees hit the bed.

You want more.

You move your hands to his shoulders, “let's get this off,” you utter softly, pushing at his jacket.

“Okay,” he replies, crowding you against his bed until you have no choice but to sit down. Keith discards his jacket, and pulls his shirt over his head.

Your breath hitches in your throat. It’s dark. You can’t see him well. You still react like a charged electron.

“Now you,” Keith states simply, not exactly a command. It was nice, the lack of mind games and subterfuge.

You scoot up further on the bed, shrugging your bomber jacket off.

He’s watching.

Awkwardness creeps up on you. There was no sexy way to take off a sports bra.

You pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside carelessly. Then you peel off your sports bra. The elastic worked too well.

Keith’s sitting up on his knees.

“You’re beautiful,” he states.

“Come here,” you utter, inviting him closer.

He complies readily, cupping your cheek and kissing your mouth eagerly, closer to a lover than a random encounter.

You grab his other hand, guiding him up to your chest, to your breast. Keith runs his thumb over your nipple, gooseflesh rises on your skin. He trails bruising kisses down your throat.

Your breath catches in your throat. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him flush against you, savoring the feel of his chest against yours.

“Fuck,” you groan as Keith bites down hard at the crook of your neck, harder than you’d expected.

He stills. “I’m-I,” making to pull away.

“No,” you reach for him, tilting his head up as you move to straddle his waist, “it’s okay. I just didn’t expect it.”

“I won’t do it again,” he stammers out.

“I didn't say I didn't like it.” You push him down against the bed, topping him. “Just warn a girl.”

Keith wraps his hands around your hips, tugging at the waistband of your trousers. “These are kind of in the way.”

Laughing, you reply, “could say the same to you.” Your hands pop the button of his jeans.

It’s a fumble to pull your trousers down. Neither of you care, eager to get on with it. He shoves his jeans down his legs along with his boxers.

You straddle Keith, completely naked and lean down to capture his lips against yours. His cock twitches against your thigh and your toes curl up. His tongue runs over your top lip, you part your mouth, letting him in.

You cup his cheeks between your hands, your hips rolling against his.

He thrusts feverishly against you. His fingers dig into your bare hips, skin against skin.

“Come here,” Keith utters hoarsely, “I wanna fuck you.”

“Think I’d rather ride you,” you reply back breathlessly.

“You can do that after,” he whines, a rumble emanating from his chest but your head is too fucked up to make sense of it.

You sit up, hands on his chest. “That’s presumptuous of you.”

Keith grins, wrapping his hands around your wrists, and rolls you over so he’s on top. “Is it,” he asks rhetorically as his hand reaches between your thighs, ghosting over the wetness of your pussy, “when you’re this wet?”

You moan, canting your hips, cashing the feel of his hand, wanting relief. It was a mounting pressure in your belly, a forest fire under your skin and you needed Keith. “Okay. yeah,” you nod, closing your eyes when Keith bent his head and licked a stripe from your nipple to your collarbone. You whimper, lost in the sensation.

“Tell me what you want,” Keith asks.

“Fuck me. Please fuck me,” you utter, you hands clutchinf at his shoulders, bringing him flush agaisnt you.

Keith aquieses.

You bend your knees, spreading your legs as he positions his cock.

“Oh fuck,” Keith mutters as he pushes into you.

Fuck indeed. You moan his name without thought, closing your eyes and laying your head back against the bed. His cock fills you up, sliding into your pussy with ease given how turned on you were.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders as he stretches you out.

“God, yes,” you utter dazed.

Keith moves his hips. You roll your hips up to meet him. He nips at your collarbone as he thrusts into you with favour.

As promised he fucks you.

Keith captures your mouth in a kiss that catches the moans you make as he reaches between you and runs his thumb over your clit. His pace, the way he was kissing you madly. . .the heat that had been building since you’d met him comes crashing down.

You come.

Leaving you boneless.

“Keith,” you whimper.

“Sh,” he tells you, kissing the shell of your ear, “let me make you feel good.”

“You..sort of already did,” you utter completely fucked out.

“Turn over.” Keith says even as he’s already helping you move, his arms supporting your weight. He presses his lips on the back of your neck, as he grabs a pillow and sets it under you.

You bring up your knees, laying on your legs, “thought I was going to go next,” you tease, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair.

He stills, “if you. . .”

“No. No,” you shrug, “I did ask you to fuck me.”

Keith runs his hands over your shoulders, sliding down your sides. He squeezes your ass with his hands.

“Best two out of three,” you offer, half joking half serious because while you were still blissed out from having just orgasmed, you could already feel your pussy clench with anticipation. Seriously, the effect he had on you-

You can feel his smile against your skin, “If you think you can handle it.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” you reply, arching your back into him, titling your head back, and pulling his hair so you could kiss him. It was sloppy, and the angle was awkward, but none of it mattered when Keith stroked your pussy with his fingers, dipping into your wet folds.

Already stimulated, you shudder with pleasure.

Your tongue strokes his in an open mouthed kiss. He tastes as good as he smells, Keith filling up your senses like an incense stick wafting through a room.

He wraps an arm around your chest, his hand caressing your breast, pulling you against his chest, both of you melding together. Keith thrusts his cock into you again.

You squeeze your eyes shut, hand fisting the sheets of his bed, moaning into his mouth.

It was a combination of his cock in you, his thumb rolling your nipple in his hand, that set you aflame.

You couldn’t get enough, your hips jerking back, up to meet his. Keith fucks you against the bed.

He palms your breast in his hand, pulling you up to him, keeping you close as he plants a kiss at the juncture of your ear and jaw, on the side of your neck whilst nipping the skin and you moan, his cock hitting just the right spot as he slams into you.

First he grows comfortable, pulling almost entirely out before thrusting hard as he finds a pace that leaves you both a mess.

“Right there, right there,” you utter.

“Tell me how good I make you feel.”

He punctuates his words with a roll of his hips, his fingers draw a circle around your clit without giving you the satisfaction you desperately seek, already building up to another climax.

You nod jerkily. “So fucking good Keith. Your cock feels so fucking good,” you manage to reply.

He speeds up, faster, deeper, at your words. The bedframe, bolted down into the floor, creaks.

“Just like that.” You moan wantonly. “Right there.”

He responds to your words, pulling out to the head of his cock, teasing your entrance just so before slamming back in.

You shut your eyes and whimper, over sensitive to your very marrow. It was too much. Keith was trailing kisses down your spine, his breath warm, his cock twitching inside your filling every inch of your pussy up.

With a shudder, you come, stars behind your eyelids and short circuiting. You never knew sex could be this amazing. Not in real life.

You got what people meant about the right partner.

The right sexual energy to match.

You collapse, a puppet with its strings cut. Keith’s hand across your chest is the only thing keeping you from melding into the mattress like a blob. His hips thrust against your ass mindlessly, chasing his own climax.

With another couple of thrusts, his hips snapping against you, Keith moans your name and comes undone behind you.

He comes inside you, hot and sticky.

His hand grasps the back of your neck, holding you in place as he comes inside you. It’s unexpectedly hot. You didn’t know you could like this in bed.

You didn’t know how much you liked an obstinate expression with wide eyes until you met Keith. He had the type of soulful eyes you could drown in.

He had drawn out something in you that you hadn’t even been aware of.

Your thoughts center on him as he finishes inside you.

“You take my dick so good,” he says with a surprising amount of softness for what amounts to a one night stand and a pang strikes your chest, wishing you had met him under better circumstances where there might be-

Keith gets off you, slumping next to you on the bed.

There’s a thrum of satisfaction running through you as you look at his face in profile. The insane idea that you might just stay and cuddle plants itself.

That was impossible.

It was time to cut and run.

Sure, he’d fucked you. But he was also still half a stranger. No matter how jumbled your thoughts were, you refused to give into the pull he had on you.

You wanted to lay there with him.

Keith blinks slowly, looking as blissed out as you feel, reaching out a hand towards you, but stopping himself halfway.

You feel a little disappointed, but say nothing. It was just a one off thing you remind yourself, no matter how you felt.

Now that you can think a little more clearly, though the sensation remains like a lump in your throat that starts there no matter how much you swallow, you glance around the dark room. Only the barest red lights on the floor illuminate enough to cast shadows.

Keith’s own eyes reflect the light like a cat. Just a glimmer of traffic sign yellow.

But you’re too tired to think, so you file it away in your head under the nebulous details you’ve learned about the red paladin.

You blink, grimancing as Keith’s come runs down your thigh onto the sheets. At least they weren’t yours.

He closes his eyes.

“I’d say sorry about the mess,” you break the easy silence lulling you into staying there, “but it's your fault,” you tease way too familiarly.

Keith sounds embarrassed when he utters, “sorry about that. I can get carried away.”

You smile softly, tracing over his shadowed form with your eyes but resisting the urge to reach out. That part was over. “It was good.”

“You did mention.”

So he could joke.

You giggle in the darkness that envelopes the room. You were good at being friendly and taking charge but you understood the hesitancy to open up to people you just met.

Keith’s chest makes a rumbling sound akin to a cheetah purring.

You try and hold onto the thought, sure it means something, but the sound draws you in and you lose the battle against yourself, curling up into his side.

He takes this as the permission it is, and tangles his limbs with yours.

A thrum of warmth surges where Keith’s skin touches you and you’re not sure if its his running warm or if it's all in your head or-

your eyes drift closed.

He’s purring.

You know Keith would be embarrassed if you pointed it out.

So you say nothing.

Everything seemed so intangible anyhow. The world had been turned down a notch. The post orgasm glow remained unrivalled.

Even a hit from a bong didn’t measure up.

Your first time had been a real embarrassment (you hadn’t managed to get the boy’s cock in you), this was just a weird quirk of his, and it was soothing.

You close your eyes.

Keith’s breathing is deep and steady, you wonder if he’s fallen asleep, but don’t feel pressured to check.

It was nice, not scurrying off, not being more than a little drunk. War was exhausting. Earth had only been in it for less than three years. No wonder some aliens were in such shit moods.

You exhale.

There’s no way to mark the passage of time.

The bed shifts under you. Keith runs the back of his hand gently over your shoulder.

Your eyes flutter open.

“So would this be round two or three,” you ask lightly.

Keith smiles lightly, “you did say…”

“I did,” you laugh easily, blushing, the flush creeping from your cheeks to the tips of your ears.

You swing a leg over his waist, straddling him, but not without feeling the start of a soreness in your legs. It doesn’t deter you.

Keith lays back, watching you through his lashes as you sit up. He looks lovely.

You lean down and kiss his mouth, reaching for his cock with your hands. He was already half hard when you wrap your hand around his shaft.

His breath hitches in his throat as you move your hand. It’s been a moment since you’d jerk anyone, but it’s not rocket science. You press kisses down his throat, moving your hand firmly up and down his length until he’s completely hard. You nip at his collarbone, marking him the way he’d left bruising kiss all over you.

His cock twitches in your hand, Keith’s hips thrusting up into you.

Anticipation builds in your belly, but you want to set the pace, stay in charge. So you still your movements.

Keith whines under you, his hands holding your waist.

“Be a good boy for me,” you tell him. “Can you do that?”

“Mm.”

“Use your words.”

“Yeah,” he manages hoarsely, “I can be good.”

You smile, lining him up against your entrance. You shift your hips, teasing his cock against your wet folds, closing your eyes as you moan at the feeling.

Keith thrusts up, trying to get more friction.

You still wanting to drag it out. Though your thighs ached and your pussy throbbed and you wondering if you should just-

You rub his cockhead against your pussy, “oooOH,” you moan. Your nails scratch his chest lightly, trying to steady yourself. Your heart raced, back arching down to him.

“Come here,” Keith groans, his fingers trailing up, asking for more, his hand on the small of your back.

You give in, sinking down onto his cock.

He moans your name, shutting his eyes.

It’s pornographic, the way Keith rises up to meet you, hips bucking against yours, the expanse of his pale throat.

You roll your hips slowly, fucking yourself on his cock. At this angle, the way he filled you-

“Fuck,” Keith moans, “you feel so good.”

“I could say the same,” you reply, sliding against his hips, picking up speed. You hold yourself up, hand on his chest.

You suck in a breath as his cock thrusts into you. Static filled your head as you chased your pleasure, grinding against him. You tilt your head back, moaning his name, everything but Keith becoming background noise.

He palms your breast.

Your breath hitches when he rolls your nipple between his thumb and finger.

“Ah,” you sigh.

Your stomach was taunt.

He doesn’t go further. You sort of wish he would. You trusted Keith not to hurt you. . .too badly.

The idea excites you, as he wraps his hand around your throat.

You match him, curling your fingers in his hair and pulling hard, “look at me,” you try and order but your voice is a whine. You’re too hot and heavy to think.

His cock twitches inside you, filling you up and fuck it felt good to be streched out.

Keith’s thumb strokes the side of your throat, his grip firm. “Do you like this,” he asks, his gaze heavy on you. He was entirely concentrated on you. It was like being worshipped.

It sent a wave of pleasure coursing through your veins.

“I wouldn’t mind if you got rougher,” you admit, finding it easy to trust him.

He looks away.

You falter. Had you read things wrong?

Keith bucks his hips up against you and you let the thought go, sinking onto his cock and groaning, “Keith…”

It was easy to let go when it felt this good. His hand around your throat, fingers digging into your hips, you were sure there’d be bruises tomorrow. Not that anyone would be able to tell from over your uniform.

A shudder runs down your spine, you squirm on his cock mindlessly, thinking about bruises in the shape of his hands, about the marks on your neck you could already feel blooming on your skin. Heat surges in your chest, something primal as your thoughts linger there.

You nails run down his chest, leaving shallow scratches as you try and get a better hold, desperately grinding against Keith, down on the bed, his cock ramming into you. “Fuck,” you think, “fuck. . .Keith. . .”

You can’t stand it.

The pressure in your stomach, the heat scorching your pussy, the sound of Keith’s whines and moans, your name tumbling out of his mouth like a hymn that raised your heart beat, blood pounding in your ears.

Keith squeezes your neck, your throat bobs under his fingers and fuck-

You come.

Your legs tremble, unable to support you any longer as you collapse, a quivering mess on Keith. His hands move down to grip your thighs, pulling you down flush against him, down to the hilt of his cock as he comes, moaning erotically.

The thread of heat doesn’t dissipate entirely as you rest on his chest, boneless and sticky with sweat, but it relaxes and you breath the scent of him in instead of pulling away entirely.

Keith strokes a hand down your spine, an afterthought, “that was. . .”

“Yeah.” You’re exhausted.

You close your eyes, listening to the inhuman rumble of Keith’s chest as it rises and falls with every breath you take.

You end up slipping out. The halls are in the light cycle, but no one bothers you as you walk.

Getting up the next morning is hell.

Your legs are sore, and that’s not even mentioning how much your pussy hurts when you take a step. You take a dose of painkillers still remaining from your injury and check your messages.

Nothing from earth.

That was expected.

The meager universal communications were taken up by the war effort. You still sent your family messages, even if it was just one way. It was a way to keep in touch. It felt like watching starlight and knowing it was millions of years old, a form of time travel.

You shower.

Keith’s come was a mess on the inside of your thighs and the thought is not as gross as it should be, your skin warming up, zapped by static. You run your fingers over your clit and fuck yourself in the shower thinking of the red paladin and his come.

You get out, brushing your hair out, not looking in the mirror at the purple hickies spread out like a constellation on your chest, and realize how weird you were being.

Come was gross.

You hated swallowing so you never did. The tentative relationships at the garrison had been short, you had all been teenagers, and now anything that happened was a one off thing sometimes involving aliens.

You swallow, gripping the counter of your sink. You were horny again.

No.

Not going there.

No space weirdness this morning.

Because you’re on leave for the space equivalent of 6 or 5 days, you don’t have much to do. You get food. It had taken getting used to, and figuring out which brightly colored pastel goo thing was good, but there was a variety. You still had no clue what was plants or animals up in space.

The more liberated planets, the more supplies trickled in. Pirates loved to take a cut.

You eat as soldiers stop by to refuel, fill up on supplies. Despite the stress, you missed being out on the front. Being out of the action sucked.

Sitting around on a spaceship was boring.

It wasn’t like they had shops or movie theaters. Walking around too much ended up with you being in the way.

You clench your jaw, feeling feverish.

And you had just been getting better. . .

You shove the thought away.

You end up watching space TV: reality TV shows like Galra Ninja Warrior and nature docu series on plants, some you’ve been on, before finally sliding your hand under the waistband of your trousers and rubbing your clit.

It takes the edge off, but the heat’s still there, pressed up in the pit of your stomach, cheeks flushes and you sigh, unsatisfied as you click to something other than the marine biomes of Kmeolsuahr. For aliens larger than a schoolbus, they were peaceful creatures. Since they were filter feeders, agriculture had never developed a hold on their planet, but water generators were plentiful.

Yet another show starring Galra. It was the most common type of show in the Empire. Hijacking communications had given this traveling spaceship TV. You were glad for it now.

You curl up, the communicator snug around your wrist translating everything instantaneously. It was the part in the soap where there has to be a duel for honor. What a load of crap.

The two Galra circle each other, close ups of their face like a mexican stand-off. Through TV you got to know the Glara in the empire as more than just soldiers. Spending time in the camps taught you that even Galra citizens could be arrested for treasonous statements against Zarkon.

They make growling alien sounds, something between a jaguar and a sound not found on earth, an underlying clicking that raises the hairs on the back of your neck.

You connect the dots.

The glowing eyes, the purrs and rumbles, and whatever weird alien thing was going on: the red paladin was part Galra.

Only that made no sense.

He was from Earth.

First contact had been what, when the paladins had disappeared? When the Kerberos mission had been abducted, and boy had that made fringe conspiracy theorists happy. . .how could he be part Galra?

Was it even your problem?

Surely this would go away. . .

You were leaving in a little over five days.

You curl up and watch TV until you fall asleep, determined to enjoy the rest while it lasted and your weren’t trudging through waist deep mud.

“Read through the debrief,” a commander with a nebulous rank above you asks. In your line of work, so much was redacted. Information gathering was a fancy way of saying spy. It was why you worked so closely with the rebels.

You don’t even blink at the slight pale easter egg yellow alien, ears that resembled hair, long and droopy like a rabbit: there were four of them. You’d met stranger. “Yeah. Long mission.”

You were not looking forward to being on a planet with an inhospitable surface. A sun close enough that set the surface on fire with it’s rays, no thanks.

Still, it was your assignment.

“It is vital.”

They always said that.

It seemed to be extracting some key players. Who they were remained unknown until you had to know. It was a lot of flying blind to keep information from leaking to the wrong ears. Loose lips sink ships and all that jazz.

“I’ll treat it that way,” you nod, pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth. It would be fun flying a hijacked Galra fighter ship. The planet was pretty deep in Empire controlled space.

“And,” the alien looks you up and down like a Garrison RA finding a stain on your uniform during morning inspection, “get rid of that scent.”

“What,” you ask plainly, “scent.”

The alien raises a hairless muscle over its eye. The gesture is human enough. “Voltron has docked here.”

It was subterfuge. Both of you were in the same line of work, you could do this dance in your sleep. “As far as I know, yes.” You are careful to keep your expression neutral, feeling stupid for not having used negating get. It wasn’t even rationed, but used pretty widely. There were many aliens who relied primarily on scent, and those whose sense of smell was far sharper than yours.

“Mm.”

You hold their gaze.

You weren’t one to waver.

“Any further questions?”

“None.”

“Good.”

You walk blithely back to your room, intending to shower, again, and probably take care of the warmth in your gut. The heat was like an uncomfortable itch under your skin that stubbornly remained no matter how much you ignored it.

How was it even possible that Keith was any part alien let alone Galra? You were pretty sure the entire planet would have known if the Galra arrived on the planet.

It was intriguing.

Your mind drew up the details you knew, trying to make them fit. It was half mental exercise, half the urge to actually get to the bottom of this. Keith didn’t look half Glara like Prince Lotor and his gang of misfits. . .quarter, one sixteenth. . .

Occam's Razor.

The mystery occupied your mind as you made it back to your quarters.

Keith is pacing outside your door.

How did he even know where your quarters were?

“Did you sniff your way here,” you ask, genuinely curious. Maybe the traits might not be apparent. . .just how Galra was the red paladin. You were reminded again how little you actually knew him.

Understanding fills his eyes; he knew you knew. Keith looks over at you for a second before ducking his head dejectedly, a straw dog expecting to be run off.

Your heart ached.

How a paladin of Voltron could be so self conscious despite going toe to toe with the Empire on a daily basis. . .you didn’t know. They were only flesh and blood after all.

You take pity on him, “so is this going to be a thing,” the corners of your mouth lift into a small smile. You were still a little sore. You wouldn’t mind going another few rounds. . .

But you needed to clear some things up first.

Just how much of this between you was space Galra funkiness?

Keith snorts, looking up, meeting your searching gaze. His shoulders were still tense, unsure that you weren’t about to tell him to shove off. Not the loner type entirely by choice then, his innate awkwardness must have made it hard to connect.

It wasn’t a problem you’d ever had, rushing into everything headfirst, taking charge.

“Not like there’s a lot of humans to choose from up here,” he says self-deprecatingly.

You bite the inside of your cheek. “I’m down for some alien funkiness,” you answer evenly, taking a step towards him. He inhales sharply, looking away again, this time in thought.

The lines of his face increase, clearly uncomfortable, frowning.

“I can’t usually,” Keith admits in a tense voice, “smell this well. . .though I can smell better than Shiro.”

“Shiro?”

“The black paladin,” he explains, surprised he has to explain at all.

You answer his unvoiced question, “everyone tends to focus on the color of the lion rather than the pilot inside.”

“Oh. That’s dumb.” He looks a little relieved at the anonymity that grants.

“Is it just me then,” you ask, getting to the bottom of things.

He nods, meeting your gaze. “I don’t know why but I can’t stop thinking of fucking you,” he says without ceremony.

You find yourself blushing. The connection went both ways, the very alien connection. “Don’t hate me but I think we should go to the medic.”

Keith frowns. “Or we could just fuck.”

“That horny,” you tease, raising a brow, “or was I just that good?”

Keith cusps a hand against your cheek, his thumb running over your lips.

Your mouth parts, the tip of your tongue grazing his thumb.

“So you don’t want to fuck,” Keith asks, a playful smirk on his lips.

You swallow, the urge to say yes right there as his touch on you entranced you, sending desire cascading through your body down to your toes. “This isn’t just alien weirdness is it?” You wanted it to be more.

“No,” he shakes his head, his breath mingling with yours. “That’s-I’m not that impulsive.”

“Good,” you mutter, pressing your body against his, and opening the door to your room.

#keith kogane #vld keith #keith x reader #keith kogane imagine #mine #smut #surprisingly soft for being esentially a take on the whole galra heat thing in fanon #part 2 will b just sex lol #feedback much appreciated (as a motivator too)

424 notes · View notes

phoenixyfriend · 4 years ago

Note

hey i read through your Anakin and Jedi babies au, and got to the part about Shmi eventually having a kid and Ani being supportive and listen man i just have emotions bc i realized that her daughter would be the first freeborn child in the Skywalker family. like god knows how many generations of slavery on Tatooine, and this tiny baby is the first one born free. of course, while everyone knows this is a big deal, i feel like Anakin and Shmi are the only ones who truly Know how much of a big deal this is. tiny new baby skywalker draped in japor charms and whispered desert blessings

Context: Anakin and the Jedi Babies, chrono, how Shmi ended up on Mandalore, the post about Jango/Shmi.

YEP.

I’m thinking her name is something like Amika or Amyas? I’ve come to the conclusion that she is the result of Shmi and Jango getting into a relationship, but not actually planned. Anakin absolutely offers to fight Jango for Shmi, and she scolds him for it despite being a solid ten years younger than him.

Jango and Shmi do get married, after a bit more fumbling to make sure this is what they really want.

I imagine that the disaster lineage moves back to the Temple a year or so after that, when Ben is eleven or twelve. The Force just said it was a good time, and Mandalore seemed to be in good shape, etc. There’s a lot of sidelong glances and questioning looks because Soka and Ben still insistently refer to Anakin as buir (or Skyguy, on Soka’s part), and there’s a variety of conspiracy theories, and Ben acts Very Grown Up for a child his age, etc. They actually tell the council the full truth and cause a number of headaches. Mace isn’t amused. There’s rumors everywhere about Obi-Wan and Ben being related but nobody has the guts to ask after the first Scary Skywalker Smile.

What’s really relevant, though, is what that move does to relations between Mandalore, the Jedi, and the Republic.

"Okay, so if the Jedi Order does any negotiation with Mandalore, it has to be through Skywalker." "Why?" "The Mand'alor is his brother-in-law and they met when Fett was fifteen; I've seen Skywalker give this man a noogie and suffer zero consequences for it."

Like, please understand: Jango becomes Mand’alor in his late-twenties even while Jaster is alive, a few years after the Shmi thing, just because he’s Very Good At It. But also, he’s Anakin’s brother-in-law. Anakin, who knows that Shmi can take care of herself but is very protective anyway, and made a hobby of kicking Jango’s ass when he was younger, and has always had Weird Vibes around Jango, and at least once made veiled comments about how he didn’t trust Jango’s ability to be a father.

Jango, of course, doesn’t know that this is because Anakin judges him on the fact that he had three million clone sons that he didn’t give a shit about in a future that won’t happen.

So Jango is actually very concerned with maintaining Anakin’s good favor, something that he feasibly had for a few years but is struggling to hold onto after getting with Shmi and having a kid.

If it were almost anyone else, Anakin probably would have been very “she can make her own choices” about Shmi, but it’s Jango Fett and Anakin has concerns.

A few years later, let’s say Ben is fifteen, the Temple gets notified that the king of Mandalore is coming. The Mand’alor is going to be here, and hasn’t told anyone why. He’s bringing his spouse and several other people, but not a full guard or anything for a formal visit with the Republic.

The ship lands. The Mand’alor exits in full armor. There’s a woman next to him, a small brunette with a toddler in her arms, not wearing much armor, but she has enough to make it clear that she is Mandalorian. Vambraces, greaves, a gorget, and there’s a sigil on it somewhere declaring her the the spouse of the Mand’alor.

The Jedi Council is mostly polite. Mostly hesitant. Confused. Diplomatic. Dooku is there, and asks, “Did anyone inform Master Skywalker of our visitors?”

“He recently returned from a mission and is likely asleep,” someone tells him.

The Queen of Mandalore sighs. “Oh dear.”

This is when a recently-woken Anakin Skywalker, age thirty-seven but looking like he stalled out on aging in his late twenties, strides out into the hangar and yells, “Shmi!”

The queen gives her toddler to her husband and sprints to Master Skywalker, throwing herself into his arms and letting him spin her around with a laugh. “Ori’vod!”

Dooku’s smile could be, at a stretch, described as ‘shit-eating.’ He turns to the councilors. “You didn’t forget that Skywalker has a sister, did you?”

They didn’t, but they clearly hadn’t expected it to matter.

“Let me see my niece,” Skywalker says, with a grin out of a holo film. “Fett, gimme.”

“Hi, hello, it’s good to see you’re alive too,” the Mand’alor grumbles. “Oh, I’m doing well, and--”

“Yeah, yeah, su cuy'gar and all, let me see my niece.”

The Mand’alor, one of the most influentially dangerous men in the galaxy, sighs and hands over the toddler to Master Skywalker, who immediately starts cooing over the little girl and otherwise making it clear just why he ends up in the creche so often.

“Master Skywalker,” Dooku calls over, as the only person to have encountered the Mando contingent often enough to get away with saying something right now. “You knew they were coming?”

“Nope! Felt ‘em arrive,” Skywalker cheerily replies. “Did someone tell my kids? Somebody tell my kids, they’ll want to see Shmi.”

“Has Ben gotten any taller?” the woman stage-whispers, and Skywalker grins at her.

“Not as much as he’d hoped.”

The Skywalker teenagers in question come sprinting out with less decorum than even their father had. Ben at least tries to slow down and greet the contingent politely, but Soka just barrels into Shmi like there’s nothing in the galaxy that could stop her. There’s laughter and hugs, and Skywalker hands the toddler off to his daughter and steps back to watch his family interact.

(They get justification for the visit eventually: the child is terrifyingly force-sensitive, and the queen has only just managed to convince Fett to let them take her to the Temple. The Council knows just how tenuous their guardianship here is, in that they’re sure this child would have been kept away from them if not for Skywalker’s presence here. Mandalore’s warriors and Tatooine’s slaves hold family to be of utmost importance. Skywalker is the only reason this is happening.)

“You know, I was getting respect from your High Council before you showed up,” Fett grouses, now without his helmet. “I’m the Mand’alor, the first in centuries to step foot here without war in mind. This moment should be historic. People should respect and fear my presence.”

Skywalker looks at him, pitying.

"Fett, I don't care that you're Mand'alor. I've known you since you were fifteen, and you're married to my little sister. You know you don't scare me."

“Anakin--”

“Also you’re short.”

“Oh, get kriffed, you asshole.”

#JangoShmi #Shmi Skywalker #Jango Fett #Anakin Skywalker #Obi Wan Kenobi #Ahsoka Tano #de aging #time travel #Phoenix Posts #Phoenix Answers Asks #Anonymous #Anakin and the Jedi Babies

399 notes · View notes

thefanficmonster · 4 years ago

Note

Hey, I'm the 3word anon! I guess to make this easier, you call call me 📚🌻

I just wanted to say that you did an amazing job! I loved reading what you've done! You said that you wanted more words so here it is your next words: tradition, needle and tribute

Love, 📚🌻

I'm so glad you liked it dear 📚🌻 ! I absolutely love this challenge and I don't think I'll ever get tired of it hehe. Hope you enjoy this one too!

Freedom

Pairing: Rick Flag x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of drug use, Mentions of injury Spoiler Free 😊

Genre: Romance, Humor

“Flag, I have someone coming on-board with you.“ Waller’s voice comes in through the radio of the jet colonel Rick Flag was about to take off with, taking the Suicide Squad on their newly assigned mission.

He rolls his eyes, engine of the jet roaring to signal it’s ready to lose contact with the ground and rise up into the skies - much like Rick, who’s already fed up with the Squad’s members who are explicitly annoying and pesky today, promising him a ton of headaches in the near future. With that in mind, these news Waller has given him so suddenly, he’s not particularly excited to welcome another lunatic on the jet. Another lunatic to deal with.

“Who the hell are you sending? Don’t you think my hands are already full enough?!“ He yells at the top of his lungs in order for his voice to overpower the engine’s loudness.

“I’m here to help you, you ungrateful piece of shit!“ This voice, familiar voice, doesn’t emerge from the radio, instead it’s coming from right behind him and is equally as strained as his due to the loud, ear-bleeding surroundings.

Before Rick can even comprehend the presence of another person, said person gets seated on the copilot’s seat, equipping a pair of headphones so the two can communicate without pushing their lungs to the brink of giving out.

“What the hell are you doing here, L/N?“ He asks, his eyes unable to hide even a little bit of the confusion that the girl’s presence has brought upon him.

Contrary to his seriousness and shock, the girl gives him a bright, almost teasing smile, “Oh come on, Flag. I have a soft spot for you, you know, I like helping you.“ She tilts her head ever so slightly, “And I don’t feel like giving Waller the pleasure of detonating this bomb at the back of my neck.“

“Thought so.“ He scoffs, watching Y/N’s movements out of the corner of his eye as she straps herself in.

She rolls her eyes, cracking her knuckles before turning to him, deciding to pick up on this petty war, just to make matters worse for Rick and more amusing for herself, “Aren’t you gonna shoot me? I mean, it’s our tradition.”

Rick cringes, recalling the exact event - or rather events, plural - she’s referring to: the night he arrested her and a few others, all henchmen of the Joker. Unlike her co-workers however, Y/N put up one hell of a fight while those fuckers chose flight. Their decision didn’t get them far while hers led her to the hospital wing of the Belle Reve prison, a bullet in her side fired at her by colonel Flag. Seeing the report files on the altercation, Waller immediately knew the girl was something else and recruited her for the Suicide Squad.

Unfortunately, her first instinct when her eyes first landed upon the colonel was to pounce at him, despite her low chances of succeeding in her intentions considering there were guards and soldiers literally everywhere, all with guns ready to fire. Yet still, Flag was the one who shot her yet again, this time less dangerously close to fatal.

Yeah, she has a right to be pissed and a right to call it their tradition, but it’s also safe to say that their dynamic has improved. They went on to go on a few more missions together without any complications or unwanted altercations. Sure, there were snide remarks and petty comments here and there, but those could be considered compliments when compared to the shootings.

“When are you gonna let that go?“ Rick snaps, his eyes remaining fixated ahead while the jet slowly ascends, “I got you off the streets. I freed you from that psychopath. The last thing you should be is mad!”

There is a long pause between the two, leading Rick to sneak a glance at his co-pilot. She appears to be deep in thought, staring ahead much like he’s supposed to be doing right now. She doesn’t seem like she’s conjuring up a sarcastic response which would be totally up her alley, but oddly enough she seems to be genuinely thinking about what he said. He starts feeling a bit shitty for having snapped at her like that - she wasn’t completely wrong to keep rubbing it in his face, she did suffer two gunshot wounds from him, after all.

“I’m not mad.“ Y/N finally speaks up, not sparing him as much as a look, “I’m grateful. The Joker isn’t the only thing I was trying to escape. One half the day I was doing his dirty work, the other half I had a needle stuck in my arm or was out cold in a drug induced half-coma.“ This time she does turn to take in the expression change that’s happened on his face and she seems pleased with the shock and confusion she sees. “Bet you didn’t know that, did ya?“ Contemplating her next move for a second, she plays with the belts of her bulletproof vest and gear before seemingly deciding on what to do. Her fingers quickly undo the belts and buttons of the gear that’s covering her torso, removing the strong and dense protective material to expose the skin of her side where there’s a scar where she had to have surgery to get the bullet removed. Around the scar there’s a tattoo of a peculiar looking flower, masking the line as a part of itself, “I got that tattoo as a reminder of that night. A tribute to more than one freedom coming to me at once.” She quickly readjusts her gear, and slumps into the seat with a sigh of a deflating balloon. “No longer a slave, no longer an addict. Though, addicts are slaves too - slaves to our own brain’s dependency on a substance that’s destroying us.”

Rick is at a loss for words. He wasn’t expecting that, never did he think Y/N was an addict as well prior to being a henchwoman and then a prisoner. That’s probably due to the fact that she’s always been in a great physical shape, ready to take on the enemy whenever and wherever. “Damn, fucking hell, I’m sorry you had to go through that, Y/N...“ He really doesn’t know what’s there to say when he now feels even shittier than he did before.

He almost jumps out of his skin when he feels her hand on his bicep, “I would still be going through it if it wasn’t for you. In fact, come to think of it, I should apologize for pouncing at you like that when all you did was do me a favor.” She giggles quietly before adding, “But I won’t.”

He too allows himself a small laugh, “I wasn’t expecting you to.“

Of course he wasn’t, he’s come to know her well. And he also knows it’s nothing personal - Y/N is simply not the type of girl who apologizes. That he can stomach, but imagining his co-pilot seat unoccupied on the way back from this mission he cannot.

Damn it, Flag. God fucking damn you, you’ve done it again haven’t you, he asks himself, knowing the answer perfectly well already.

294 notes · View notes

jaehyunzzmilk · 4 years ago

Text

dinasty (part 2)

pairing: prince jaehyun x concubine reader

word count: 3.4 k

genre: Historical Mafia AU, smut, light angst

summary: after the perfect escape, you have to find a way to fit in your new life, leaving the past behind may seem easy when you're working for 4 princes and one of them is interested in you, right?

notes: hello again, part 2 is up and we have a new love triangle, thank you for liking the first part so much, and prepare for even more surprises

this doesn't have any relation to real facts and history, it's just pure fiction for entertainment purposes

warnings: violence, blood, cheating, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving)

main characters: jaehyun (prince), yuta (samurai, villain), ten (thai mafia, villain), kun (China's emperor warrior)

Reality - Part 2

Part 1 here

"- Nice tattoo!" the man says.

It was dark and his face was only visible through the moonlight.

You freeze, the man stays still looking at you like you were his prey.

You try to cover your body but your only reaction is to grab your stuff and run, praying he wasn't gonna come after you.

Arriving at your room, breathing heavily you try to think about what just happened. A guy like that had to be a prince or someone really important. Ms. Lee told you to be lowkey and on the first day you let a man see you naked in the bath area. "Whatever" You were just too tired to think, you didn't do anything wrong anyway, so you were gonna pretend that it didn't happen. The Korean Palace was gonna punish you for going to the wrong bath?

Suddenly you realize Kun's necklace isn't with you. "Fuck, I must have dropped there" but now it's too risky to come back and look for it so you decide to do that tomorrow. You lay down on your mattress and try to fall asleep.

Next morning Ms. Lee showed you the rest of the Palace, the kitchen and assigned your tasks. It was a lot of work and details, each of their meals had to be perfectly planned. They had someone even to taste the food before them so they know it's not poisoned.

"- I'm gonna be responsible for the King's meal and you're gonna be responsible for the four prince's meals."

-Four?

"- Yes, Taeil, Doyoung, Johnny and Jaehyun. Now you should prepare their tea, they always drink green tea in the morning."

While preparing the tea you wonder which one you saw at the bathing area and if you should tell Ms. Lee what happened yesterday.

You're walking with the trays to the dining place when you try to talk to her.

-Ms. Lee!

-"Yes"

-So yesterday...

You realize you still don't know much about Ms. Lee and even if Kun trusts her, you don't. Also you can't help but think that serving tea was much better than your life at the concubine's house, so you try quickly to think of something else to say.

-Well, yesterday… Before I met you… this man helped me at the harbor, he was wearing black clothes and had a samurai sword.

-"Stay away from him!" She turns at you. "They are dangerous, they will kill everything and everyone on their way, people you don't want to mess up with."

By Yuta's facial expression when you mentioned Ms. Lee's name you weren't surprised she said those words, you wonder why but she wasn't gonna be the one to give you the answers. Otherwise, you still weren't afraid of him, he was gonna be the last of your problems here.

-"Now let's get in there, first you bow and then you serve them the way I showed you, don't look at them in the eye and don't say anything." She says.

In silence, you enter the dining room along with the other servants behind you bringing the food plates and you stop in front of the tables on the floor where all the princes are. There are two on each side, the two oldest and the youngest, all of them are sitting on cushions, they all have long hair and are wearing beautiful hanboks.

-"Your highness, may I introduce you to your new servant 'y/n', she is my niece and she is gonna work with me in the kitchen from now on." Ms. Lee said while you bowed, you were still too nervous to look up and look at them. "Now, may we start with the tea." Ms. Lee turns to you and signs that you can go and serve them.

Holding the teapot you go to the first prince, the oldest, Taeil, he is very handsome, with his light brown hair, face delicate and mature at the same time. Slowly you pour the tea into the cup by his left, he doesn't do anything, just stays still looking down and you wonder if you did something wrong. On his right it's Doyoung, after you pour the tea he gives you a small nod which makes you feel calmer. He is also very handsome, shiny black long hair, perfect posture, he sure looks like a prince. On the other side, Johnny, you can feel he is looking at you, the first to say "thank you" after you pour the tea. His face is gorgeous, even if he is sitting down you can feel how tall and strong he is. And then, Jaehyun, the man from the bath. You freeze when he looks directly at your eyes, you try to stay calm and pour the tea but can't help but shake a little bit. He is the definition of perfection, he had perfect skin, perfect face, everything about him.

Jaehyun keeps staring at you even when you stand up and comes back to Ms. Lee side.

-"Seems like someone likes our new servant!" Johnny says laughing. The other boys look at him but Jaehyun remains silent and serious, still looking at you.

They give the first sip to their tea. Taeil stops and smells the cup.

-"Did someone… put ginger on the tea?" He asks.

Ms. Lee turns at you with her eyes wide open.

-"Did you put ginger when you were making the tea?" She says in a low voice. - Yes, that's how we usually drink it in China, I'm so sorry.

-"Don't..." Taeil says taking another sip "- From now on keep in that way". You see Jaehyun smirking with the corner of your eyes.

Your whole body relaxed, you felt like you were going to faint. Ms. Lee bows and tells them to excuse both of you. As soon as you enter the kitchen's door she grabs your arm.

-"You have no idea how lucky you were this time young lady, Taeil is the most picky to all the food we make, when he started speaking I thought I was gonna have a heart attack"

-Me too! But I'm so sorry, I swear I'm not doing anything again without asking you first.

-"Good! Now get back to work"

Later after you finish your schedule you come back to the bath area to look for Kun's necklace. You look everywhere but it's nowhere to be found.

-"Looking for this?" Jaehyun stops behind you holding your necklace.

You turn around and he comes closer to you.

-"I asked if you're looking for this?" Now he is inches from you.

-Ye- yes!

Jaehyun walks behind you and gently moves your hair to the side, putting the necklace on you.

-"Does that belong to your boyfriend?" He is so close it's almost he's whispering in your ears. You get goosebumps.

-Excuse me?

He smirks and comes back to look you in the eyes.

-"I fought in the war 2 years ago, I remember those from the chinese soldiers." He tilts his head to the side and looks at you from head to toe. "Or you did?"

-A prince fighting at the war?

-"And a very bloody one but yes... it would be a shame being a prince and let your people alone bring victory to your country"

-It does… belong to my boyfriend.

You hold your necklace in your chest.

-"And where is your precious boyfriend when a pretty face like you is talking to the enemy in another country?"

-It's complicated!

-"I have time!"

-Why? Do you want the full story to snitch on me?

-"Sweetie if I wanted to snitch you out I would have already!"

He was right.

-You wouldn't believe if I told you anyway!

-"Try me, I've seen it all"

You both sit on a stone beside the water.

-Well, when I was 9 my family was struggling, we didn't have food, money, anything… so my father sold me and my sister to a concubine's house. She went to a different house than mine so I never saw her again actually. But anyway after years of being a slave in all forms to that house I fell in love, to someone from the thai mafia, of course things got out of control, I was so dumb. When I tried to run away he found out and did this tattoo on me, I was in so much pain because I fell off the roof trying to run away that I didn't even felt the pain of the needle, I just stayed there, still. Then I met Kun, I fell in love again, he helped me to escape, and it worked.

-"And I assume that story of being Ms. Lee's niece is all lies."

-Yes! She helped to raise Kun and met his mother so it's the only reason she's doing this until he arrives.

-"Oh so he's coming."

-He works for the Emperor and he said they would kill both of us if he ran away, so he is gonna wait a little bit and ask to retire, he wants to do it the right way, then he'll join me.

-"If you allow me to say this but… I would never have let you to come alone, sometimes you don't have to do it the right way" He gets up and walks to the exit of the bath. "But I'm glad he did and we could meet"

You give a small smile with the corner of your lips.

-"Oh and by the way..." He turns at you. "The staff's bath area is on that way." He points to his left.

-I know now. Thanks.

He smiles and leaves.

Weeks passed and you were getting used to your new life. You were doing your job right, even making some different dishes from your hometown to the princes. Meanwhile you unexpectedly started spending time with Jaehyun. Since your conversation at the bath, you both got closer in a natural way. On every free time you had you spent time together, you mostly liked to walk on the garden because it was more private, he told you about his childhood, how he had to give up on so many things to be who the kings expected him to be, how he felt like he was on a prison his whole life and how he found joy on learning how to fight because it was the only way he had to express himself and not follow the rules. You were surprised at how wholesome he was, he made questions about your life in a way that you know he wasn't being just pity, he was interested in how other realities exist outside the Palace.

One afternoon Ms. Lee asked you to go to the flea market to buy fruit for the dinner's banquet. You went alone since now you were familiar with that.

Because of the summer there were a lot of different kinds of fruits on sale. You bought peaches because you knew Jaehyun likes it. After buying everything you needed you see some crowd gathering between the market, you approached them and notice some weird men you've never seen before. They were thieves. They were on their horses, destroying the sellers' stands, pushing everyone in their way, they even tried to put a food stand on fire. You saw a little kid who got lost from their parents and was crying right in the middle of the path where the thieves were. You run in his direction and catch him, putting him safely to the side of the road, when one of the men slaps your face "Get out of the way slut!"

The slap was hard so you fell on the ground when suddenly you see another group of men coming that way, they all had black clothes and katanas. The samurais. They were so fast, they fought the thieves in a blink of an eye. There are people running and dust everywhere, you feel a hand on you. "Let's get you out of here" you recognize the voice, Yuta holds you and takes you to a safe place.

-"Why every time I see you, you're in trouble? Didn't I tell you to not walk around alone?"

-I was just buying stuff at the market when they came out of nowhere.

-"You're bleeding, let me see your lips" Yuta takes the fabric that was covering his mouth and carefully wipes the blood on your lips.

-"You're gonna need ice if you don't want to get bruises..."

-Don't worry, I've had worse wounds! - You laugh.

-"You didn't tell me where you came from"

-You didn't either, and why are you doing this? Helping me when you told me to stay away?

-"Well you should!"

-I'm not afraid of you.

Yuta looks at you, his mysterious gaze turns into vulnerability.

-So, I will tell you my story if you tell me yours! - You say.

-"Years ago the king had a deal with Osaka’s emperor, since he traveled there and they proposed to do an alliance and protect each nation together, but when the war happened and the emperor asked for the samurais to fight on their side here in Korea. We came and it was all a trap, a lot of us died, the emperor stole our ships and made all his people be afraid of us spreading lies, that we were dangerous. Since we couldn’t come back home we settled ourselves here, but the funny thing is every time the small villages are in danger, like what you saw today, it’s us who come first to help them. You asked me why I saved you, where I came from, we take care of everyone, no matter what."

-I'm sorry!

-"Now your turn, what’s your dark pass?"

-Apparently like you I was also a victim of the war in my country, but other than having a sword and fighting I was just a concubine trapped in a house for so many years, let’s say I just involved myself with the wrong people and ran away.

-"It’s called a katana… the sword. And maybe I can teach you how to fight." He smiles.

-Me?

He gives you the sword.

-It's much lighter than I thought.

-"Careful, it's lighter but the blade is gonna be the sharpest of all swords. Here... You must hold like this!" He took your hands and taught you how to hold the sword, carefully he showed you some self defense moves.

-"Now if someone ever tries to slap your face again, you do this..." Yuta grabs your wrists and pins you agains't a tree, you can't move obviously, he is so close to you and you feel the sexual tension building.

-"Get away from her!" You hear a familiar voice screaming. It's Jaehyun.

Jaehyun gets off his horse, he was mad, you never saw him like that. You jump in front of Yuta.

-No wait! He saved my life! - You scream.

-"What? Y/n do you know who he is? He is a murderer." Jaehyun looks at you.

-"If you arrived 10 minutes earlier you could have joined us but the little prince was busy at his Palace right?" Yuta provokes him.

-"That's enough!" Jaehyun comes closer but Yuta doesn't even flinch.

-Please Jaehyun, let's go!

You grab his arm and take him away from Yuta.

- "This doesn't end here bastard!" - Jaehyun spits at Yuta's direction.

You come back to the Palace with Jaehyun and he takes you to the bath area.

He is sweating, you could see his veins popping because of how mad he was.

- Jaehyun please, everything is alright, you need to calm down!

- "No it's not, look at you, you're hurt" he grabs your face and touches your lip with his thumb.

- It's ok now, I was at the market when some thieves arrived, I was protecting a little kid who was gonna get hit by their horses, they got mad because I was in the way but I swear it was nothing and Yuta helped me and everyone in there!

- "What? How do you know his name?"

- When I arrived from China he saw me at the harbor, I was so weak from the trip he helped me and even took me to Ms. Lee! I don't care about your old family issues, he helped me and that's all.

- "I'm sorry I'm just… the Palace guards heard the thieves were at the market and when I knew you were there I got my horse and went after you, I just couldn't let anything bad happen to you y/n!"

He grabs your face with both of his hands and kisses you. You try to push him but still can't open your eyes and break the kiss completely "Jaehyun we shouldn't..."

- "If you don't want it then tell me to stop" your heart is beating so fast, you swallow hard and look up at Jaehyun, "I know I'm not the only one feeling this" He says kissing you hard again.

He is right. "Touch me" you say, grabbing his hands and placing them on your breasts. When he is caressing his hands on your breast he removes your necklace, dropping it on the ground. He unties your dress and slides the fabric until your lower body, he is on his knees in front of you and he passes his hands on the back of your thighs until your butt and kisses your thighs slowly. He keeps eye contact with you and licks your clit, you moan and grabs his hair in response to his tongue going faster.

In your head it felt so wrong because you were in love with Kun, but Jaehyun made you feel so needy, mind and body.

Jaehyun gives a hard lick on your clit and makes his way up to your stomach leaving a tray of kisses until your breasts, he sucks one nipple while his other hand and flicks the other one. He gets up and kisses you, the kiss was so wet, for a moment you forget that anything else exists while he kisses you hard, licking and sucking your bottom lip. He takes off his clothes, his hard dick slaps on his toned abs, pre cum leaking over his tip. Jaehyun lifts you up "Let's go inside" taking you to one of the hot tubs.

When you felt the heat of the water on your body, the feeling of pleasure and lust took over you, Jaehyun pulled you down onto his lap and gave you another kiss, you wrapped your arms around his neck when you feel his tip on your core. "Oh my god" you scream while his hands holding your waist puts you down until his whole length was inside of you. The feeling was so different, you got a harder friction because of the water and you start moving up and down to get used to his size. Jaehyun's shoulders and biceps tense while his cock is stretching you out. You bounce on him screaming in pleasure, body trembling as he helps you to move faster.

He was pushing all the way into you, hitting your g-spot. You arch your back and moan his name, clenching every time he enters you. You're almost out of breath when he sucks your neck and presses his thumb against your clit. "Jae, I'm gonna..." you can see he is close as well as he sucks your neck even harder and moves his finger faster. You scream when you feel your orgasm, your arching pussy made his cock tighter while he couldn't hold it anymore and released into you as well.

You both stay in the water for a bit recovering from the climax, he pulls you to his chest and you close your eyes.

-Am I dreaming?

-"I think the reality right now is better than your dreams."

"Reality" you thought, back at your own senses you couldn't help but be disappointed at yourself. Because of you Kun was risking his own life to help you to run away and now you're with the prince of the place he arranged you to work for. Maybe you were just a filthy concubine, maybe you deserved everything they did to you, even your tattoo. You roll your body and rest your head at the border of the hot tub, a tear coming out of your eye.

Part 3 coming soon

#jeong jaehyun #jaehyun smut #jaehyun x reader #yuta x reader #nct smut #nct royal au #concubine au #historical au #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nctzen

245 notes · View notes

nightfall-kachiniko · 4 years ago

Text

‘ A Broken Promise’ Mikasa x Reader Fanfiction || Angst.

||| Chapt.4 「 FINALE. 」 “The Loss of Freedom of the boy who fought for it,”

﹋「 This contains MAJOR AOT Spoilers for the manga, please proceed with caution. 」﹋

“AGH!” Shit. You felt your body falling through the air, blurred vision as You screamed. Something just- hit you, and you had not a clue what it was. Your leg felt numb, almost like it wasn’t there. “Y/N!” Jean called out to you. his voice getting closer as You felt my body hit his arms. “Shit you alright!?” He asked. Gritting your teeth as your focus came unblurred. The sight infront of you, terrifying. Dozens of titans, more than the nine shifters. So much blood everywhere. Remembering the injury, you looked down at my leg to see a big gash in it, blood falling down into the atmosphere.

“There’s- so much… screaming..” Tears fell down your cheeks. “The titan won’t stop..”

「 This is a time skip to this part. 」

Falco’s titan took you four up in the air. You , Mikasa, and Pieck who can’t turn into pure titans. The people below emerging into titans as you all soared higher. Turning around, you saw Armin fighting Eren in his titan form, his punches no avail to Eren’s.

“Mgh…f-fuck..” You jolted your head as you heard Mikasa murmur. “a-ahh..” She let out in pain. Mikasa’s hand laid rested on her head, her teeth gritted as she suffered.

Her headaches.

That’s what’s happening. Mikasa told you about them once when you both were only cadets. You often helped her through them, letting her lay on your lap as you stroked her hair, giving her comfort. But, that’s all in the past now. You guys are done. Hell, and so is the world..

“I’ll kill him, Help me.” Your Ex’s voice said. “Alright,” Your Captain said. “Y/n, Don’t let Armin accidentally hit us,” He commanded. “And Don’t get caught up with Reiner and Pieck!”

It was all chaos. The explosion of the thunder spear hitting Eren’s teeth left a ring in your ear. Everything is too much..You thought. I- I don’t know how much longer of this I’ll be able to take..

I need someone. I need something. You shut your eyes as you landed on Armins shoulder, stumbling because of your broken leg. It was a relief to be close to him. He turned his head over at you, looking at your tear stained “THEY’RE GONNA DO IT!” You screamed, telling Armin. “THEY’RE GONNA KILL EREN!” Your eyes fell saddened. Everything went blank for you. The screams of children, mothers, fathers, the elder. People who didn’t deserve it, their screams getting more and more faint with every crush. I just, want it to stop.

Eren’s colossal fist punched Armin as you saw Mikasa and Levi heading for the mouth. Bracing your self you gripped your ODM gear tight hanging on.

Please, God just make it Stop.

And then all of a sudden, you blacked out.

Opening your eyes, you saw eren standing right infront of you. He looked into your e/c eyes, guilt and regret on his face. Your eyes widened as you saw him. “Eren…” You said, “y-you… you BITCH!” You sent your hand flying across his face, every ounce of anger inside of you you let out in that one punch. He let out a groan of pain, “YOU’RE SUCH A TRAITOR! YOU’RE NOT ANY BETTER THAN ANNIE BERTOLDT OR REINER! DO YOU NOT SEE THE PEOPLE YOU’VE KILLED!” He held his cheek while after being knocked to the ground.

“ARE YOU STUPID!? DO YOU NOT KNOW HOW MUCH THIS HAS AFFECTED US!? DO YOU EVEN CARE!” Tears spilled down your cheeks like a waterfall.

“WHAT HAPPENED TO THE KIDS WE WERE! THE KIDS WE USED TO BE!”

“they’re gone now,” he replied, looking at your angered mess. You gritted your teeth just looking at him. “You are such a dick.” You growled at him. “Y/n, I know how you feel.”

“WHAT!? YOU KNOW HOW BAD IT HURTS SEEING MY FRIEND SINCE I WAS EIGHT KILL MILLIONS OF PEOPLE!? DO YOU EREN?!” Heavy breath as your screaming continued.

“Y/n,” Eren said. “Make sure she kills me,” His sentence caught you off guard.

“AND YOU… what..” you replied back, your eyes widening.

“Right now we are in a place called the paths,” Eren explained. “I need you to make sure Mikasa kills me,” you looked at him like he was crazy. “Eren, you’re fucking nuts.” The man infront of you eyes glimmered the same as they did as when you were a kid. “I- I don’t want you dead.” You confessed. “You deserve it like hell though! What the hell would your mother think!” You shot at him. “She’d be disappointed in me,” He looked down at the sand beneath you two. “DAMN RIGHT SHE WOULD!”

“Make sure she knows I never hated her, and that she was like family to me,” he said biting his lip. “Don’t tell her I said that, but-“ You were confused, “What are you talking about, we are in the middle of a war you created and you started! We were all at peace till you snuck off to Marley 3 years ago! You said you hated us, that we weren’t ‘free’ you called Mikasa a slave and said that that’s the only reason why she fell in love with me because she’s an Ackerman!”

“Y/n I’m going to tell you this, I did it to protect you.” You scoffed, “did it to protect us my ass, you betrayed us Eren,”

“I know you hate me, but, y/n live your life after this war.” The boy said. “Huh? The hell you getting at? You basically dropped us like flies Jeager! It’s almost like you don’t want us apart of your future”

“No! That isn’t true!” Eren looked up at you, tears flowing down his eyes with pain in his voice. “I did this all so you could have a future! I never wanted to leave you guys! Ever! I wanna be there for you and mikasas wedding! I wanna be there when you have kids! I just..” Eren gritted his teeth, ribbons of water running down his cheek “Nevermind that..”

You sighed, tears of your own forming up in your eyes, “Please, just come home.” You begged. “I can’t,” He said numbly. “I wish I could, but I can’t.”

“We love you Eren, we just want you back.. that’s why Mikasa fought so hard to change you..” you sniffled. “There’s nothing that can happen now, I promise, it’s none of you guys fault,” You sighed, “Eren..”

“I love you all so much, It was worth it.” He said, a small smile on his face. You pulled him into a hug as you cried. “Y/n, I’m so happy for you.. You’ve been through thick and thin and you’re still standing.”

“I just want you here.. with us,” you wiped your tears. “ I always am,” Eren put your hand to your heart, doing the salute. “Always,” his gaze more soft. “Until we meet again, Y/n L/n,” the boy said.

“ See you later, jeagerbomb.”

You were snapped back into reality only to see It ended. Everything. The screaming. The titans they just vanished. And the war. It was finally over. Oh shit is Mikasa okay?! You thought. Swinging your ODM gear over to Eren’s body you landed inside his mouth.

Mikasa stood there, her body still, as she held up the head of your childhood best friend. Eren Yeager. ‘She- finally..let go..’ she let go of the person who was her only family left. Running through the town of Shiganshina together. You four played hop scotch, fought of Armins bullies, captured butterflies and fire flies. The memories of when you all were kids was the only thing you could think of. She let go.. so it’s time for you to as-well.

Mikasa turned around slowly, her face numb, neutral. The head of Eren in her hand as she held it up to the air, frozen. You gave her a reassuring smile, “I’m.. so.. so..proud of you..” You limped, walked up to her as you cupped her cheek. Her eyes looked up at you, realization in her gaze. All of a sudden she wrapped her hands around your waist, she buried her head into your shoulder. Tears flowing down her eyes.

“You freed him baby..” Sniffling you said, “I know deep down, he thanks you.. you put him out of pain Mika…“

“I never wanted to hurt you.. I never wanted to...” Your girlfriend confessed. “I’m so..sorry..” she choked, tears building up in her eyes. “I love you mikasa,” you replied. “I love you too... “ The Raven Haired woman hugged you tighter, fighting back tears. “I just.. wanna..go home..”

“Then let’s go..” you whispered softly to her. She picked you up as she started heading for the exit of the mouth. Finally after fighting for so long, we got our freedom.

Thank you Eren Jeager, the boy who sought freedom, Goodbye. <\3

“Waffles!” The child cheered out. A small chuckle was heard from the Raven haired girl that passed out breakfast beside you, “You’re right good job!” She said congratulating the baby that sat at the high chair. It had been three years since you gave birth to (Child’s name) Ackerman. Now here you both were, your year marriage anniversary coming up and your daughters fourth birthday right around the corner, seems you both had a busy schedule for the week. “Thank you love,” you kissed the cheek of your wife as she gave you your tea, “of course,” she smiled returning the kiss.

“Mommy, ummie,” the child with Raven hair asked with curiosity, “how did you meet?” You both giggled a little bit before looking at each other, “well, it’s a long story,” you said to your daughter who’s identical to Mikasa. “How did you get that thing on your face ummie?” Your daughter asked Mikasa, “Someone’s full of questions today huh?” She teased tickling her. The cute laughs of the sweetheart you gave birth to made you smile with joy. Mikasa scruffled up their hair, “how did you meet?”

Looking at each other you both smiled.

“Well honey, it started along time ago, with a boy I knew, named Eren.” :)

Your daughters face lit up in confusion, “Who’s Eren is it one of Uncle min min’s friends?” There was a knock on your door as she asked her question, “well that’s a story for another time, and I gotta get that it’s probably Armin and Annie with Glacious,”

“ummie can you tell me?” (Childs name) asked.

“When you’re older sweetie,” Mikasa smiled.

‘Eren jeager, God, I hadn’t heard his name in a long time’you thought. ‘That boy..’ you laughed to yourself, ‘he stood out from others,’ Eren, the boy who sought freedom.

Memories of him filled your mind as all that was left was his memory, and forever that’s all that will be left. ‘Eren, I know you’re watching from up above,’ you said to yourself.

but as the days passed, his face got blurrier and blurrier, and all that was left were memories of when you all were children in Shingansia District, waiting for freedom to soar.

And Eren, that crazed man, made it soar :,)

➪ Kachiniko ||♡︎ My Blog ♥︎ || ☾What I write ☽ 08/ 01/21

Chapt.1 “Come back to me,”

Chapt.2 “The conclusion”

Chapt. 3 That promised light, the string called hope.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

81 notes · View notes