#i will protect them until my dying breath not one of these boys deserve the ugliness that y'all throw at them | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

marierg · 2 years ago

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OMG ZWEI!!!!!

Friend you are an artist and your medium is SMUT! I apologize profusely for my delayed reply, but I wanted to give this the full attention that it so very much deserved.

NSFW Review under cut

So again I never though that the Daddy kink would be a draw for me, but Boba got me in some kinda hold... Like that was intense. The little cooking dinner/ after work couple part at the beginning though was just ....

Also! Our baby girl taking care of our Daddy Boba and seeing to his needs to avoid Dom drop..... THAT'S GOOD PARTNERSHIP!!!! (I got verklempt).

Then we get to the shop and oh my our girl knows how to WORK IT!!!! Got our man in a perpetual state!!! oh and this part right here!!

Your fingers slide under the waistband to pull the lower garment up so that it sinks into your slit and your lips spill over the sides. “B-but most of all, sir,” you rasp, bobbing your head back forward to stare directly into his yearning soul, “I like how much it makes you want to fuck me.”

The earth stops spinning for a heartbeat as his pupils blow out to eclipse his umber eyes. “Put your fucking dress back on, princess,” Boba orders roughly, “because the second I’m finished paying, I’m leaving with you in that, covered up or not.”

Ok So then they got into the scene and again I'll be honest with you I was apprehensive cause... well I haven't really delved into any of this kinda kinky prior and I've worked in EMS for way too long. I know myself well enough though that I was ok with reading that part (And I totally trust ya as an author hun so I was willing to give it a whirl). That's why it took me so long to read, but Friend the way you wrote that helped me as a reader to understand the whole thing and check myself too so major thanks and Kudos! Cause under all of the play it was still them. And Dang it when Boba crumpled after baby girl told him she loved him. and she just held him tight. then as everything rolls to a boil and you hit us with THIS!

You’d do anything for him, anything: fight off his many demons, kiss away all his pain, and protect his heart until your dying breath.

Because we damn well would and we know it! Also the Absolute hilarity of the reader picking up the bills and realizing that those are the genuine article. I have a visual in my head of a stunned bookie in shock! Then Boba being all cool and smug about it....

“Why wouldn’t they be?” he questions with an impish smile, “I only get the best for my babygirl.” He’s smirking, doing his best to stifle a laugh at your obvious amazement.

Smug, wonderful, sexy bastard, you grumble to yourself, shoving at his shoulder. “Quit laughing at me and get in the bathroom, old man,” you order with mock annoyance, “I’m sucking your dick as soon as you can get it up again, and maybe even before then if you’re lucky.”

Yeah my dude you best have taken your vitamins today because boy howdy Baby Girl gonna reward the HECK outta that! (Needed more than a minute to cool off after that)...

I Hereby dub this chapter rated BYOO- Bring your own Oxygen cause it'll take your breath away!!!!!!! (and maybe a thermometer to check yo temp!)

PS- Again I would like to apologize for my delayed response and show my sincere thanks for your excellent writing! I wanted to make sure that the response was a good one. Thank You as always!

The Professor would be pleased.

EX LIBRIS ONE-SHOT

IDYLL

—PAIRING: Professor!Boba Fett x F!Librarian!Reader

—SUMMARY: Taking a little inspiration from some literature, Professor Fett indulges you in one of your fantasies.

—WORD COUNT: 10.4k

—RATING: Explicit, 18+ only — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

—TAGS & WARNINGS: second person narration, no use of y/n, explicit sexual content, reader is bisexual, age gap (reader is mid-twenties, Boba is late forties), bdsm elements, dom/sub power dynamics, dom!Boba/sub!reader, reader described as having enough hair to grab, alcohol consumption by reader and others, unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up irl), lots of petnames, praise kink, dirty talk, mild degradation (discussed beforehand, use of “slut” and “whore”) choking, (sugar) Daddy kink, money kink, consensual non-consent (marked in story, can skip over and still enjoy the rest of the spice)

—AUTHOR'S NOTES: Welcome back y'all! I hope you guys have a sweet tooth because this ten thousand words of pure sugar baby filth 🤑 I chose the title "Idyll" because of its associations with romance and the fact this one-shot is an interlude between Vols. I and II, and to keep with the literature theming for part titles (and yes also because I think I'm clever lmao).

A big thank you as always to @agirlnamejacq and @rexxdjarin for betaing this series, and thank you to you my beloveds for all the support and feedback 💖

Read on AO3 — Series Masterlist — Taglist

<Part V

The idea hadn’t left your head since you read that Maker-forsaken chapter in the book Selena recommended to you. It’s dogged you for days, scrambled your thoughts, and ruined every pair of panties you’ve worn this week just thinking about it. You’d come embarrassingly quickly on your fingers the night before fantasizing about the plan you’d made to turn the chapter’s plot into your and Boba’s reality this weekend. Watching the clock tick down until five o’clock today had felt like literal torture; you’re so ready for the work week to end and your sexy little scheme to begin.

Your nerves thrum with excitement as you make your way to Boba’s front door with your overnight bag slug across your shoulder and the groceries you’d picked up balanced on your hip. Jiggling the key he’d given you in the lock, you ease over the threshold into the house, careful as not to drop anything. Setting your bag to the floor, you begin flicking on lights as you make your way to the kitchen.

Boba had to deliver some materials to another member of his department after class, giving you just enough time to start some dinner to surprise him with when he got home. With midterms fast approaching, he’d been putting in longer weeks and though he never complained, you know he could use a good home cooked meal and a little extra fun in the bedroom to take the edge off.

Once the groceries are sorted, you put on some light music and pour yourself a glass of the sweet wine Boba gets especially for you since you don’t care for dry reds he prefers. The kitchen is soon filled with the fragrant scent of onion and garlic as you busy yourself with the meal preparation, cutting and sauteing and seasoning, losing yourself in the familiar process.

Sometime later you hear the front door shut, signaling Boba’s arrival home. You wipe your hands on the blue-striped dishrag to your left and pluck another wine glass down from the shelf, filling it with the velvety red wine your professor favors.

“Careful, princess,” Boba’s luscious voice warns, “a man could get used to coming home to a beautiful woman cooking his dinner.”

And I could get used to doing it, you think as you re-cork the bottle, especially since this domestic stuff always has him on his knees wanting to have me for dessert.

You can’t help the flirty smile that blossoms across your face as you take his glass in hand and turn to face him. Your response evaporates from your wine-sweet lips, however, when you see the colorful bouquet of flowers in his hand. Your eyes travel up his arms to his broad shoulders before landing on his pleased expression and twinkling eyes. “Looks like we’re both full of surprises,” you grin—the flowers are your favorite kind.

Boba winks, “Gotta keep my best girl happy since I haven’t gotten to see her much this week.” He closes the space between you, setting the flowers on the counter so he can link his arms around your waist.

“And I have to keep Daddy fed so he has the energy to keep up with me all weekend,” you tease before pressing a kiss to his lips. Boba eagerly accepts it and his hand slides down to grab a fistful of your ass, jostling the wine glass in between your bodies. You pull back, doing your best to look annoyed. “If you spill this on me, I’m going to make you lick up every last drop.”

A chuckle rumbles in Boba’s warm chest pressed against you. “Is that supposed to be a threat, sweetheart? ‘Cause it sounds like an incentive to me.”

You make a scandalized noise, your free hand falling onto your chest. “Sir, how dare you! I am a proper young lady who-” You’re cut off by Boba’s mouth on yours, his tongue dragging slowly along your bottom lip and making the rest of whatever you were going to say slip from your mind.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he murmurs smugly into your kiss, grinding his hips into yours.

You lean back farther this time, arching a brow at him. “Keep it up, professor, and your dinner’s going to be burnt.” After a moment, Boba sighs dramatically in defeat and releases you to peek at what you have on the stove. Pressing his drink into his hand, you shoo him away. “Ah ah ah! No taste tests! Go change and it’ll be ready by the time you come back.” Grumbling, he complies and you watch him disappear off to his bedroom.

Oh, just you wait until you hear the plans I have for you, Professor Fett.

After dinner, you’re curled into him on the couch with your shared nightcap in your hand. The sated, cozy atmosphere of the room combined with the low light of the lamps lends an intimate feeling to the space as you finish your dinner discussion.

“So there’s something you wanted to ask me about, pretty girl?” Boba asks, his fingers trailing up your arm leisurely.

You take a quick sip of the whiskey, not that you need it, and smile up at him. Finally, the time has come to reveal the desire that’s been consuming you all week. “Mmm, yes there is. It’s about what I want to do with you this weekend… something I read in the book Selena recommended to me.” Thrilling heat begins to creep up your neck at what you’re about to describe to him.

Taking a sip of the liquor from your cup, Boba sets it on the side table to give you his full attention. “I’m all ears, princess,” he purrs with eyes brimming with glimmering darkness, his other hand clamping down on your hip to pull you even closer into him. His posture remains attentive, however, waiting patiently for you to continue.

“Welllll,” you draw out, enjoying the last of the suspense, “in this book, the girl falls in love with a super good-looking guy who gets coffee at the same café as her, who, as it turns out, is also super rich.” Boba hums in amusement and you have to swallow back the urge to jump him right then and there, though just barely; as tempting as making out with him is, your next words are far more important. “This rich, handsome man ends up taking the heroine out to buy some very expensive jewelry so that he can fuck her in nothing but the diamonds he bought her.”

Glancing up, you see Boba has a devilish smile on his face. In the beginning of your relationship, you might have gotten a little shy at this point, a bit bashful about the nature of your desire for this god of a man.

Not now, however. With Boba’s reassuring hand and your agreed-upon rules at your back, you’ve sailed into uncharted seas, uncovering more than you ever thought possible along his shores: pleasures and comforts more satisfying and valuable than even the most lustrous of the ocean’s treasures. He is your north star, a guide who impels, rather than compels, as you discover your personal and shared splendors.

Boba’s large hands snake around your waist to pull you over the thick of his thighs, your knees hugging the outside of his hips. “And has all this given my little princess some ideas?” he prompts with a knowing smirk.

A breathy laugh slips past your lips as he grinds the growing bulge in his pants into your core: your professor can get harder quicker than the boys half his age you’d been with. Focus, you chide yourself, you haven’t even gotten to the good part. Anchoring yourself in the depths of his mahogany eyes, you bite your lip.

“Lots of ideas,” you confirm, tipping forward to place slow kisses up his jaw, “Ideas about how I want you to give me that full sugar baby experience… designer clothes, shoes, jewelry, everything.” Scalding heat flashes through your entire body as you relay your wicked request. When you reach his ear, you can feel the way his breath catches when you trace its shell with the tip of your warm tongue, his burning heat washing over you. “Then I want you to make me earn every single kriffing penny you spent, want you to make me prove that I’m Daddy’s girl inside and out.”

The unfiltered grit of Boba’s groan has you gushing like sin itself is stroking you between your thighs. “Oh babygirl, you want Daddy to spoil you then put you in your place? Give you everything your little heart desires then take it out of that sweet pussy? Fuck you like that’s all you’re good for?” he grunts, yanking your shirt to the side so he can suck a bruise into your exposed shoulder. His teeth graze over the damp skin under his lips, nipping at the tender flesh. “Fuck, you’re so filthy and perfect, just for me… mmph, just for me. Come here, sweetheart.”

Cupping your face with battle-worn hands, Boba crushes his mouth against yours, hot, hungry, and demanding. Your chest is already heaving with the weight of your arousal from the mere discussion of your fantasy as he steals the air from your lungs, his tongue greedily licking into the heat of your mouth. Licentious warmth pricks your cheeks and simmers in your belly to see he’s also turned on by your lewd wishes—it makes you want nothing more than to tear into him right here and now.

Boba’s hands are already rocking your hips over the straining fabric of his erection, sending all your blood and attention to the slick apex of your thighs; the sinful huffs of pleasure coming from him are eating through the last of your fluttering restraint. Fisting the collar of his t-shirt to gather your resolve, you pant out the last of your request into your kiss. “A-and I want you to-shit-to shove your money down my brand-new dress and panties and fuck me in it.”

A deep growl of pure desire claws its way up his throat, and straight to your pussy. “Kark, shit, w-we’ll talk about the rest of this later, filthy girl, I need you right fucking now.”

You’re in his bed with open arms and open legs before the minute is out.

Clipping the straps of the garter band to the rest of the gorgeous lingerie set, you smile at yourself in the mirror of the elegant dressing room. The entire day has been better than you ever could’ve imagined, and kriffing hell if you don’t look good in this scarlet lace. It’s been worth every minute you spent waiting… and Boba hasn’t even fucked you yet.

He’s taken your fantasy very seriously—wining and dining you at restaurants you didn’t even know existed between trips to stores you’d only ever heard of from fashion magazines—and, if the hard-on he’s rubbed against your ass at every opportunity is any indication, is enjoying everything just as much as you are. You couldn’t help but suck him off in the backseat of his Audi wearing your new emerald earrings and bracelet to show him just how grateful his little princess could be.

As promised, the two of you had negotiated the details of today’s fun after your tryst the night before: materially, you’d get whatever you wanted but you’d have to be on your absolute best sugar baby behavior, meaning no sass, no back talk, and using good manners all day. The professor has quite enjoyed the deal thus far, and hasn’t hesitated to remind you of it every time a brattish look colors your expression. You’d been good though… mostly.

“Careful, little one. I’d hate to have to take you back early and remind you of the rules before you got to pick out something to wear tonight.”

“What? All I said was that you’re an old-”

“I know my babygirl isn’t going to make the same mistake twice, is she?”

“Erm-I mean no, sir. Sorry, Daddy.”

For the actual sex itself, you’d gone over the terms, bondage, and acts you both were comfortable with since you wanted a more intense scene than your usual. You made sure to ask what aftercare Boba wanted for the same reason: you’d read about dom-drop and wanted to avoid it at all costs, especially since your boyfriend is being so solicitous of your fantasies. The overwhelming amount of unspoken love in his eyes after you asked him nearly brought tears to your own, even more so when all he requested is to hold you skin to skin in a warm bath—Boba Fett is truly a man like no other.

You give yourself one last once over in the floor length mirror before parting the dressing room curtains to step into the private viewing room. Boba’s eyes go wide when he looks up to see you standing there: you’re a vision of rosy temptation, ready, willing, and wrapped up in a bow just for him. His hand brushes over his crotch and you spin around so he can see just how much of your ass is not left to the imagination.

Peeking over your shoulder with big doe eyes, you flash him a dazzling smile. “I really like this set, I think it might just be the one.”

He wets his parted lips with a slow tongue, his eyes sable and voracious as they rake over you. “Oh really now, princess? How about you come over here and show Daddy just why you like it so much.”

Biting your lip, you bend slowly, pushing out your tits even more as you slip on the red bottoms he’d got you and saunter over to where he’s seated on the plush couch. With your hands on the curves of your hips, you lightly kick his feet wider apart so you can step between his open thighs. He allows it, amber flames dancing in his irises as he watches you preen under his gaze—there’s nothing like his little angel to bring his hellfire to the surface.

Hooking your thumbs under the bra’s dainty straps, you pull them out a bit and slowly slide your hands down as you keep eye contact with him. “See, sir,” you murmur with a silky voice, “I like the little bows… the ribbons…” When the backs of your thumbs slide over your nipples on their path downward, your eyes slide shut at the sensation. “Mmmph, I like the pretty lace, too.” You release your fingers and slide your palms slowly down your waist; when you feel the garter belt, your eyes flutter open.

Boba’s jaw is clenched and his eyes locked onto where the tips of your middle fingers have come to lazily trace the heart cut-outs just above your hip bones. The skin over his knuckles is stretched tight as he balls his hands into fists on his thighs, the buttons of his crisp shirt are straining from the depth of his breathing.

“I like these little hearts,” you continue, your tone dropping to sultry smoke as your fingers slip down to the panties, “and this cute bow…” Your dominant hand slithers farther between your legs to stroke over the thin material covering your folds while your other hand finds its way back up your torso to knead your breast. “O-oh, and I… I-I like how these panties feel over Daddy’s little pussy.” Your own breath shakes with your arousal and your head tips back, exposing the smooth length of your throat, liquid heat pumping under your pulse point.

A ragged curse slips from Boba’s lips and it makes your entire body tremble; you’re unraveling this masterpiece of a man thread by thread without so much as the whisper of a touch. The taste of power is thick on your tongue—he might be in charge, but he is still a man at a woman’s mercy.

You do as you’re told, making sure to toss a cheeky wink at the silently judgemental sales clerk on the way out, and another one to the amused woman behind the hotel desk as Boba guides you with a firm hand on your hip up to the penthouse suite he booked for the night. You can practically smell the ozone of the imminent storm that’s been building between the two of you since the night before—all that’s left is to pierce his dark cloud and be washed away down to your most primal being in the tempest of his desire.

No sooner is the room’s door shut then you throw yourself into the howling winds of lust that have been tearing through bones all day. There’s no time to admire how stunning the suite is, not when his hands and lips are on you with a bruising, burning passion that might as well be a force of nature. For a few minutes there’s only him and the sensations he elicits, a wild and unrestrained fervor that almost convinces you that you’ll get away with having him easy.

Of course, once the eye of the storm swirls around the pair of you, that flimsy hope is banished when Boba draws back from your kiss. “Hey, easy now, babygirl. I need you to listen so we can start.”

The way his glossy, kiss-swollen lips form around his words threatens to derail your focus completely, but you swallow down your fervor as best you can; you won’t get what you truly want if you don’t check in with him first. You squeeze your eyes shut in a hard blink. “I’m… I’m listening,” you rasp, your voice already ragged at the edges.

“Good girl,” he praises gently, brushing his lips on your forehead. “The role play we talked about last night still what you want to do? Any changes you want to make?” His right hand comes up to massage the tension in your neck.

Your heart is pumping hot and ready in your chest, it’s all you can do not to grind your thigh into his very obvious erection. You can’t look at him, not when he’s too tempting with his earth-warmed eyes and sun-colored features. Burying your face into his neck, you sound an affirmative from the safety of your favorite spot.

A cimmerian chuckle rumbles in his warm chest. “You’re so ready, aren’t you, pretty baby? I know, I know. Tell me about the stoplight system we talked about yesterday and I’ll make all your dirty little dreams come true.”

“Green means good, yellow means slow down and check in, red means stop like our safeword and three taps,” you rattle off without hesitation, curling your fingers into his shirt over and over again as electric anticipation crackles through your nerves. You’re embarrassingly wet and Boba hasn’t even done anything yet… Maker help you when he does.

He presses a kiss into your hair, guiding your head up to look into your eyes. “That’s my smart girl,” he beams, the edges of his eyes crinkling, “Now remember, we’re checking in again before the actual sex since this is our first time doing a scene like this.” Accepting your nod of understanding, he asks if you’re ready to start.

“Fucking stars above, yes, I’m ready!”

[start of consensual non-consent]

It’s like a whole new man materializes before your very eyes, one with lurid intentions and inescapable demands as the gentle hand on the back of your neck comes to settle possessively around your throat. “Well then, princess, it looks like you have some debts to settle with me,” he informs you, his canines flashing in a wolfish smile.

Your game has only just begun and the thrill of your vulnerability has your pulse jumping under his thick fingers. You blink at him with wide, innocent eyes, playing along. “But Daddy, what debts? I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Boba tuts, the sound lush with false sympathy, his eyebrow arching up in a cruel look. “You think all those pretty things I got you just come for free, little one? That there would be nothing taken in return?” His words are followed by a greedy handful of your ass that crushes you against his chest and makes his belt buckle dig uncomfortably into your soft stomach.

“W-what do you mean?” you whimper, squirming and ensnaring yourself further into his trap, “I-I thought you bought me all those things because you l-love me.” Offering up a flowery smile, you paw at his chest in an effort to ward off his perverse intentions, your heart hammers out danger against your ribs. It pushes you towards fight or flight, but your self-preservation is no match for your fatal attraction.

“Love?” he scoffs viciously, icing out your budding attempt to sway him, “Who said anything about love, sweetheart? Is that what you think this is, is that what you’ve been filling your pretty head with?” His fingers twitch around your throat and your lip starts to tremble pitifully. “Aww, poor baby,” he mocks with a sardonic smile, his hand releasing its grip on your neck so his thumb can roll down your quivering lip. “You gonna cry about it?”

Maybe it’s your latent instincts actually kicking in, or maybe you’re just that much of a brat, but either way you’re not going to let this man get away with everything, especially in that tone of voice. Jutting your head forward, you bite down on this thumb and shove your hands between your bodies to push away from him. You manage to turn and take a harried step towards the other side of the room before you’re roughly snatched back by the hair. Yelping at the sudden sharp pain in your scalp, your hands flying up in an attempt to free yourself.

“Oh no you don’t,” Boba hisses, ignoring your pained protests as he pulls your back against his body, locking his arm around your waist.

You struggle and kick at his shins, doing your best to escape the much stronger man. As sweat beads along your brow and your muscles begin to burn with exertion, you realize far too late that he’s just letting you tire yourself out. “Let… me… go!” you demand with the last of your strength, slamming the ball of your foot down onto his shoe.

Boba sucks in a sharp breath and you know you’re fucking in for it now just from that sound alone, your thighs pressing together against throb between them. “You done now? Made your point?” he asks with a dangerous amount of calm, his voice as still as the sea before a storm. “Because the harder you fight, the rougher I’ll have to be, sweetheart.”

That should not be as hot as it fucking is. His threat has the twin flames of arousal and fear burning you alive from the inside out, your opposing desires for mercy and ruin warring within your chest. “No, wait! I’m sorry," you plead, "Please don’t hurt me, I-I promise I’ll be good!” You sniffle and do your best to well some tears in your eyes, wanting to make your performance as good as your boyfriend’s. “I’ll do anything you want, just… please!”

Boba bites down into the soft flesh of your shoulder and you have to stifle a moan. His hand in your hair loosens fractionally, allowing you enough movement to give him access to your neck, which he greedily claims with harsh kisses. “Anything you say? But princess,” he taunts, his breath hot on your damp skin, “you were already going to give me whatever I want… you know why?”

Heart in your throat, you choke on your own lust-fueled words so that all you can do is shake your head in the negative. His absolute dominance and your prurient desire are melting away the last of your reason and restraint, especially when his lips find that sensitive spot just below your ear. Alternating between sucking his mark into your skin and muttering into your ear, he continues in a coarse, strident tone. “Because I own you. From the top of your pretty head down to all ten of your princess toes, you’re mine. You’re Daddy’s girl and you’re going to do just as he says… isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

As sinfully delightful as all this feels, Boba is way too smug for your liking. The wheels turning in your head are spinning furiously to come up with another escape plan to further provoke him and draw out your game. Grinding your ass back against his crotch, you sigh and go loose like you’ve given up, even letting a few small moans slip past your lips for good measure. Boba takes the bait—and truthfully, you think about taking it too—releasing your hair and hips so he can grope your tits.

Now!

Forcing all the air from your lungs, you slide down out of his grasp, stumbling a bit in your high heels but making out of his reach all the same. Boba growls and you can feel the flurry of air as he makes to grab you again, but you duck and manage to dodge him. Heart pounding in your ears, you make a run for the next room, hitting the lights so they go dark. Panting, you lean against the wall next to the door to suck in a lungful of air only to have it knocked right back out of you a second later when you’re slung over his strong shoulder.

You howl in dismay at being caught so soon, kicking and pounding on Boba’s back as he hauls you over to the king-size bed. He asks for your color and you answer “green,” to which he squeezes your hip affectionately before falling back into character. “You sneaky little brat, you really thought you could get away from me?” he laughs cruelly, slapping your ass with a stinging palm. He reaches the bed in a few strides and tosses you onto the mattress like you weigh nothing.

It makes you gush, your pleasure in your core already beginning to tighten as your ass cheek prickles and burns. Head spinning and vision blurred at your sudden change in position, you scramble up the sheets to put distance between the two of you in a final desperate attempt to elude the man you so desperately want to catch you.

“You got a tight little cunt and a warm little mouth that will pay off your debt nicely. There’s no point in fighting it, sweetheart,” he continues to taunt, his fingers unbuttoning his shirt with practiced ease, “Might as well enjoy it, because you’re not getting out of it.” He discards his shirt, his tattoos gleaming in the sunlight peeking in through the windows; he’s as handsome and dark as a panther about to pounce on its prey.

In all your haste, you’ve tangled yourself in the bedclothes well within his reach, and the wet heat slicking the inside of your thighs and underwear is bleeding the fight from you. That’s not going to stop me from giving this old man a run for his money… literally, you smile to yourself. You have one more trick up your sleeve but you don’t have much time with the way Boba is prowling toward you with the ease of someone at the top of the food chain.

“W-what are you going to do to me?” you whimper, doing your best to distract him from the fact you’re untangling your foot.

He gives you a chilling smile. “Oh, little princess,” he husks with a tantalizing, twisted heat, “I think you know exactly what I’m going to do to you.”

He leans down to grab you, but you pull your knee up to catch him in the center of his chest with your designer heel. Boba’s expression flashes with wicked desire at the challenge, a hungry smirk turning up his lips. “Fast little thing, aren’t you?” he grunts in pleased surprise, locking his grip around your ankle, “Won’t save you though. I like my girls with some fight in ‘em.” His brown eyes are blown so wide with lust that they’re an abyss of black—maybe even a shade darker. In a flash, he snatches up your other ankle and yanks you back down the mattress, riding your dress up and rubbing your skin hot from the friction.

“No, no, no! Please, no!” you cry out, kicking your legs uselessly as his eyes zero in on the damp fabric nestled at your apex. No matter how much you pretend you don’t want this, you can’t hide your traitorous arousal.

Ignoring your pleas, Boba forces his way between your thighs, shoving his crotch against yours and making you gasp a moan. “Stop fighting,” he warns, crowding into your prone space, “I know you want this, dirty girl, you’re fucking soaked. Quit with the dramatics and Daddy will give you everything you want, just like he did earlier when he bought you all those nice things.” His hips grind into your center enticingly, accenting his offer.

You whimper and give a final kick before falling still, your only movement the heaving of your chest. Your blood is hot and torrid in your veins and sweat slicks your skin; you couldn't escape him even if you really wanted to and it burns you up. Knotting your fingers into the bedspread, you dig in your nails to keep from reaching for him—you’re enjoying your game far too much to give in and let it end now.

“Promising to spoil you makes you give it up quick, huh?” he smirks, kissing up to your ear, his right hand releasing your ankle to skate up to your damp panties. “Yeah, I know this is what you want. You want Daddy fuck you senseless in all the pretty things he bought for you, don’t you? To be his sweet little baby he uses however he wants? You can admit it, princess, you don’t have to pretend for my benefit.”

“Fuck you!” you spit back, knowing it would seal your fate. “I’m not some whore you can buy off and screw!”

[end of consensual non-consent]

Boba has the gall to laugh directly in your face. “That’s not what your panties are telling me. In fact,” he pauses to fish something out his pants pocket, “They’re telling me that if I make a little deposit… you’ll let me do whatever I want to you without a single complaint.” Before you can even ask, he pops the rubber band off a half-inch thick stack of hundred dollar bills with one hand. Your eyes widen and you clench around nothing, stunned into silence.

He smirks, his shoulders set and his eyes glinting dark with desire. “Oh, is a few thousand dollars all it took to make you learn some manners?” he mocks. “Of course it is, my filthy girl, you’re spoiled rotten and all mine. Daddy knows how to get you to behave, doesn’t he?” You open and shut your mouth several times but you can’t get your tongue to form any words in your hazy, aroused shock. “Well now, if you’re not going to answer my questions, I might as well put something in that pretty mouth.” Without a moment’s hesitation, he reaches back into his pocket and stuffs his wallet in your open mouth.

All you can do is moan, your eyes rolling back inside your skull as carnal desire overtakes you. Your teeth sink into the buttery-soft material, the tang of leather flooding your taste buds as you writhe on the mattress seeking any sort of friction to quell the overwhelming need in your core.

Boba groans your name, long and deep, the rumble accompanied by the sound of a belt dropping to the floor. Your eyes flutter open to see him stroking his leaking cock with his free hand, his own eyes heavy with desire. “Look at you… so needy and pretty like this. I can’t wait to feel that perfect pussy strangling me.” He gives himself a few more tugs before releasing himself to ease his wallet from your lips, placing it and the money on the nightstand.

A whine sounds in your throat and he shushes you gently, coming back around to massage your thighs. “We have to check in, remember? How’re you feeling, babygirl?”

Jagged shards of lust lodge themselves into your sweat-slicked skin, sharp and urgent, and every beat of your racing heart continues to pump unrelenting need into veins. “Everything is good, green, just keep going, please!” you beg, your mind spiraling closer to frantic desperation as the coil in your belly begins to unwind.

“Shh, shh,” he eases, stroking your hair back from your damp forehead. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, princess, but this isn’t optional. Do you need help calming down?” he asks in his even, guiding voice. Squeezing your eyes shut as hard as you can, you nod. “Okay, sweet girl, keep your eyes closed. I’m going to move and I want you to sit up. You want a pillow to hold?”

Nodding again, you roll up to a sitting position, the empty loss of his touch soon soothed by the pillow he places in your arms. Boba praises you gently and guides you through a couple deep breaths and soon the overbearing buzz of desire wanes enough for your muscles to relax. After a few more exhales, you’re able to come back into yourself and you open your eyes, blinking against the sunset filtering in from the tall windows. Boba is standing in front of you, his drawn look of concentration melting into a smile.

“Better now?” he questions. You hum an affirmative in response and reach out a hand. He takes it, stepping closer so he can brush a kiss over your knuckles. “Ready to talk, sweet girl?” Taking a deep breath in and out, feeling your racing pulse slowing; when you’re sure you can focus, you confirm you’re ready.

Boba sits on the edge of the bed, holding open an arm in invitation knowing that you need the added comfort of his touch during breaks. He waits until you’ve made yourself comfortable in his lap before continuing. “I know how bad you wanted to keep going, princess, so thank you for listening and being honest when I asked if you needed help.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Emotionally intense scenes like this one can be much different in real life than in our heads… sometimes it can catch up with you all at once and become overwhelming in a bad way. I want to give my little princess everything she wants, but I can’t do that unless I know everything’s alright up here,” he says, kissing the side of your head.

“I understand, Boba, that’s why we have our rules and discussions to keep us safe.”

A warm smile spreads across his handsome face. “That’s exactly right, my smart girl. Now that things are calmer, how’re you feeling about everything? Anything that made you uncomfortable or want to change before we continue?”

Wrapping your arms around his torso, you hug him as tight as you can; Boba is everything to you and you want him to feel it in the strength of your arms and the beat of your heart. “I like it, like really, really like it. You’re amazing, all big and bad and mean… you’re so goddamn hot it drives me crazy. Makes me want to rip off all your clothes and ride your co-”

Boba clears his throat, eyeing you sternly to remind you to stay on track and you snap your jaw shut with a sheepish grin. Rolling your gaze up to the high ceiling, you watch the patterns of the sun’s final light while you ponder his question. You certainly would never dream of acting out this kind of thing with anyone else, that’s for sure; not only because Boba is the only man you trust with such a fantasy, but also because it was precisely that, a fantasy, make believe. It ran so counter to who Boba is and how he treats you—that’s what made it so damn sexy.

After a few moments of quiet consideration, shake your head. “There’s nothing I didn’t like or want to change. What about you, what did you like?” you ask, turning the question around and snuggling up against his warm chest.

He hums in dark delight, pulling you in tighter to his body. “When you kicked your leg up and got me in the chest, kark, sweetheart,” he puffs out his cheeks, “I almost lost my cool. Wasn’t kidding when I said I like a little fight in my women.” He pinches your ass playfully and you giggle, wriggling away from his fingers.

Sensing things are turning back towards continuing the fun, you twist around to straddle him, though keeping your hips still against his. “Well that’s no secret, professor,” you tease, linking your wrists behind his neck. “Don’t think you’d be with me if you didn’t.”

Running his hands up your sides, Boba’s fingers wrap around the swell of your ribs. “Mmm, I suppose that’s true,” he chuckles with a wry grin. When you ask him about any dislikes, he shakes his head, but there’s a caveat in his deep set eyes. “I’m enjoying it all and I definitely want to do it again, but…” He trails off, his brow furrowing in that pensive look he got when he’s trying to string together words to describe his feelings. You know it’s still a new practice for him, so you wait patiently, tracing little shapes on the nape of his neck. “But, not every time,” he concludes after a few moments.

Setting your forehead against his, you mumble in agreement, “But not every time.” You have a feeling you know why, not that you wanted it every time either, but that is a discussion for another day. For now, you would tuck it away in your heart. “Boba?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Thank you,” you smile, big and genuine, hoping he can feel all the emotion and gratitude behind your words, “For everything, for all of this. You’re amazing.” Pulling back, you capture his face between your hands so you can place a languid kiss on his beautiful lips. “I love you.”

The way he always seems so surprised and hungry to hear those words is as endearing as it is heartbreaking; he should’ve heard that sentiment more often in his life.

“I… you,” he stammers, his usual stability thrown off.

“Shh shh,” it’s your turn to soothe, giving him another kiss, “I know.” You both hold the golden glow of affection between your bodies, warm and safe, for a few peaceful minutes, silently basking in its rays. When Boba begins to shallowly roll his hips against yours, a grin lights across your face. “If you’re ready, Daddy, I think there’s something your babygirl needs finished.”

“Oh, yes I think there is,” he agrees, nipping at the plush of your bottom lip with a devious grin. Sliding his hands under your thighs, he hoists you up with him as he stands to walk the pair of you to the long side of the bed. “Why don’t we get rid of this,” he suggests, tilting his chin down at your dress, “so Daddy can get a good look at his sugar baby all dressed up.”

He lets you down on your feet and you happily oblige his request, sliding the dress off your curves and tossing it in the direction of his clothes. The heat of his gaze as it rakes down your body is enough to brand your skin and reignite the coals flickering in your core. Brushing your hands over your tits and waist, you admire how the red lingerie flatters your form—as well as the effect it has on Boba.

“Well,” you drawl slow and saccharine, batting your lashes, “if I’m not getting out of this terrible debt, I suppose I might as well enjoy it like you said.” As you echo his previous words, you sink back onto the bed behind you, spreading your legs wide. As one hand traces over your nipple peeking through the lace, your other one follows Boba’s hungry eyes down to the wetness staining your panties.

Your fingers dip under the damp fabric and swipe through the copious amount of slick coating your folds before coming up to breach the seam of your lips. “You make me so fucking wet, Daddy…” you moan, hollowing your cheeks, you softly moan as you suck the tang from your digit. Trailing your spit-cleaned fingers down your chin back towards your cunt, you simper up at him. “Wanna taste?”

Boba groans, his slitted gaze trained on your mouth as he smears pearled precum over his stiff length. “Oh, sweetheart, there’s a lot of things I want from you.” He enters your space, taking your jaw into his large hand. “Like this hot little mouth, for starters.”

Humming and blinking big blowjob eyes at your boyfriend, you grin and stick your tongue all the way out, tilting your head back for full effect. The air whooshes from Boba’s lungs in a debauched sound and the muscle in his neck twinges as his jaw clenches. “Such a sweet little angel when she wants to be…” he murmurs under his breath, almost to himself, collecting a leaking drop on his thumb to deposit on your waiting tongue.

The salty taste of him has the coil of your release forming in your belly once again, salacious and hot. You lean forward to lap up more of his delicious taste, alternating between kitten licks and suckling at his tip while Boba continues to pump his shaft. Being the greedy little thing that you are you soon become unsatisfied with what small bit he’s allowing you—so you ask for more.

“Please, I want more,” you whine with a pout, “I want all of it.”

“Careful what you wish for, princess.”

You were, in fact, not careful for what you wished for and quickly became quite the little mess. Ravaged and ruined, and spoiled by the enjoyment of his cock down your throat as he clasped a diamond necklace around your neck. Your knees are now raw, hair wild, and your makeup is running down your cheeks. You’re a complete wreck.

You fucking love it.

Boba is standing over your kneeled form, gloriously naked and slowly stroking his dick that’s lubricated by a generous coating of your saliva. The dark look in his brown eyes and viperous grin send a shiver of arousal down your spine. “This is all you’re fucking good for isn’t it, sweetheart, spending my money and sucking my cock? Kriff, I think you like being a little slut as long as it gets you what you want.”

You blink up at Boba’s broad frame through clumped lashes. “Well, what can I say? We are living in a material world and I am a material girl,” you grin with puckish charm. You shimmy your shoulders just enough so that your tits jiggle and the light catches the trails of spit that have begun to dry on your neck and chest. You’d long given up your innocent act for your usual bratty self.

Boba huffs in amusement, rolling his eyes. “Do the jokes cost me extra?”

“Seeing how your dick’s not in me,” you reply blithely, “they absolutely do.”

You don’t even have time to pout before he snatches your face up in a tight grip, his thumb and fingers digging deep into your cheeks. “You really are a greedy little thing,” he chuckles, turning your head from side to side to appreciate the way the jeweled necklace sitting on your chest glitters in the low light. Hot arousal streaks through you, leaving shimmering trails of lust in your veins.

You try to shake off his hand but he only pushes his fingers in father. “There’s only one thing to do with greedy brats… you know what that is, sweetheart?” he asks with poisonous condescension. You glower up at him, unable to speak through his grip. “It’s to fuck it right out of them. You want more? I’ll give you more. I’ll give it to you until you’re begging and crying for me to stop, and then you know what?” Boba crouches down, resting his warm cheek against your burning one to hiss into your ear. “I’ll stuff those pretty panties in your mouth and keep going.”

The strangled groan that sounds in your throat is unlike anything you’ve ever made as you push out your chest to get closer to him. You’d give anything for him to fulfill that threat of promise because when he gets like this, it means you’re getting the fucking of a lifetime. Watching Boba as he fucks you is a treat in of itself, but witnessing that galaxy-stopping moment where he slips into that all-powerful, unshakable dom state? A truly indescribable delicacy.

Boba releases your jaw, yanking you up by your shoulders and roughly shoving you back on the bed. “You really are a dirty little whore,” he sneers, his lips quirking to a self-satisfied smirk, “begging for me fuck you to tears while you taste yourself. You’re lucky I’m in such a generous mood, princess, because you are absolutely ruined for anyone else.”

And the Maker knows it's true. “Daddy,” you whine, opening your legs wide in invitation, “please, I want you inside me so bad, please fuck me!” Boba likes to hear you beg and you’re all too happy to do it when it gets you what you so desperately want.

He looms over to you, his shoulders set and his eyes glinting dark with desire. “You finally learned some manners, have you? Figured out good little girls get more of Daddy’s money than bad ones?” He’s toying with you now. You both know what you really want: to have him filling you up over and over on a pile of the money he has stacked neatly on the nightstand where he left it.

Truthfully, you’d do anything he asked at this point anyway—all this sugar daddy play has you step away from selling your soul just for a single stroke of his thick, perfect cock. You suppose it wouldn’t kill you to stroke his ego a little more if it speeds the process along. “Oh yes, sir, I’ve got it all figured out,” you answer agreeably, a picture of sweet submission, “I’ll be so, so good if you fuck me, I promise.”

“I bet you will, sweetheart,” he chuckles with a glint of mischief, “now that Daddy’s got you so well trained.” He’s testing you, seeing if you can keep up your obedient act, his dark eyes sparkling in challenge. When you swallow back your snarky response for a genteel smile, he relents. “Go put the heels back on and crawl back to me,” he commands, scooping up the stack of bills.

Scalding heat flashes through your body to settle between your thighs at his order, mixing with the excitement of finally having him inside your aching cunt. You jump up and eagerly hurry around the other side of the bed where you’d shed your shoes earlier. After slipping them back on your feet, you settle onto all fours and make your way across the expanse of the large bed, keeping your lust-dark eyes fixed on his own.

The luxe bedding pools coolly between your fingers, the raw skin of your knees skimming pleasantly over the material; when you reach him, he caresses your face in a moment of tender affection. Before you can lean too far into his warmth, however, it’s over: he yanks down your bra and stuffs wads of bills into it. Wasting no time, he spins you around to continue slipping money under the edges of your lingerie, layering in a few bright slaps to your ass as he covers you in his paper wealth.

Your ears and cheeks are aflame by just how fucking dirty he’s treating you: like you’re a set of holes to be bought. It sets off a goddamn waterfall between your legs and you know he can see the slick starting to spill down your thigh—Boba Fett has corrupted you totally and completely, and kark if you couldn’t be more grateful for it.

“Look at you,” he goads, shoving a hand between your shoulder blades to force your front down and ass up, “such a greedy little whore, fucking dripping from just a bit of Daddy’s money.” He’s begging to be tested, pushing and prodding you for a reaction. Boba likes your submission, yes, but he wants to earn it, wrestle it out of you. He craves a challenge and you’re his favorite one, his perfect, bratty little match.

He slaps the blunt head of his cock against your ass and notches himself at your entrance. Just as he’s about to push in to feel that first bit of your sinful heat, you bow up your back so he slips out. “Ah ah ah,” you crane over your shoulder, smirking up at his genuine look of surprise, “I might be a whore but I’m not a cheap one. Don’t think that just because you can lay down some good dick that I’m going to give you a discount on this million dollar pussy. Finish paying up, old man.”

Boba grins like the devil, barking a sharp laugh. “Fuck, you’re so in for it, little girl. You and that kriffing attitude.”

You wink, jiggling your ass just out of his dick’s reach. “Aww, I know you like it when I misbehave, that’s why I do it just for you, Daddy,” you tease in a sing-song voice.

“I know it’s just for me, naughty princess, ‘cause no one else is ever gonna treat you this good or fuck you like I can.” Boba starts thumbing bills off his stack so they flutter and twirl like autumn leaves, landing around you. “So tell me when I get to enough, sweetheart.”

Biting down hard on your lip, you let the hundreds fall for a couple seconds until you can’t stand to be empty of him any longer. “That’s a start, but don’t get stingy on me.”

“Behave and take my cock like a good little princess and I won’t,” he retorts smugly. Tugging your hips back flush against the furnace of his skin, he smooths a roughened hand up your spine to massage your neck. Then, more gently, he requests, “Tell me what you do to make things stop, babygirl.”

“Kamino or three taps anywhere,” you answer dutifully, doing your best not to wriggle and grind against him while he checks in, your desire to have him inside you just barely kept in check.

Pleased, Boba hums and places a quick kiss to your shoulder blade. “Good girl. Because I’m not stopping for anything else, not when… fuck, when I can smell how much you want it.” Grinding against your thigh, he fills his hands with the globes of your ass. “Now, let Daddy see his pussy.”

How can you deny him when his voice is pure honey, sinful and spiced with everything you could possibly dream of? Sliding forward and widening your knees, you put yourself on full display for him, arching your back in a seductive curve. You’re rewarded with a deep, throaty groan from your professor and two quick slaps across both your cheeks that quickly dissolve into tingling pleasure.

Pulling your ruined panties to the side, Boba groans again. “You’re so beautiful, so perfect…” he traces your curves reverently, bending to lavish pious kisses your dimples of Venus. “Fuck, I’m gonna tear this little pussy up... I'm gonna do it just how you like it,” he promises, his deep voice scraped with desire.

Your response is snatched from your throat when he enters your dripping heat a second later. Gasping and cursing at the sheer girth of him splitting you open with each rut of his hips, you bury your face into the duvet, your eyes rolling back into your head. The sinful stretch burns you from the inside out in the most gut-clenching, obscenely delicious way that all you can do is moan into the mattress. By the faint sounds making it through the thick haze of pleasure fogging your brain, it sounds like Boba is fairing about the same as you are.

“Fucking kark,” he pants through gritted teeth, “Always s-so tight and wet.” He snaps his hips in the final way, making you both exclaim in pleasure; it feels like he’s throbbing in your damn throat. “Ready, pretty baby?”

Turning your head so he can hear you, your response comes out as a desperate warble. “More, please, more, you feel so fucking good!”

“Don’t you worry, sweetheart, Daddy’s gonna spoil his little princess, gonna fuck her full of his cum just how she likes.” His free hand grips your opposite hip so he can pull you back into the roll of his thrusts. “‘Cause that’s what you really want, isn’t it? To be so full of me that you can’t take a single step without remembering who owns this pussy, who takes care of you and makes you feel this fucking good?”

You’re already losing your mind, all the build up of your fantasy and your extreme angle making it so his tip is kissing that perfect spot deep inside you already. Throwing a hand behind you, you curl your fingers into the bouncing flesh of your ass to spread yourself farther, desperate for more of him deeper, faster, harder. You feel the feather-light touch of more money brushing your skin as it rains down on your back, making the well of desire inside you roil and churn as you bear down on him. “W-wanna see, wanna see… please,” you beg, unable to form any more of the necessary words, your brain melting from the blood boiling in your veins.

“Does my little girl want to watch Daddy’s money while he fucks her? Hmm? Tell me.”

Part of you wants to continue bratting, summon the last of your strength from some hidden cavern within you to bite back at him, come up with some scalding quip to throw in his face. A larger part of you, however, wants to delight in everything his dominance has to offer, revel in the way Boba can fuck and make love at the same time. “Yes, sir, please, sir!”

You’re on your back, legs over his shoulders, with his dick sinking back into you before you even fully register him pulling out. He gives your clit a few sharp smacks with the remainder of the cash in his hand before he starts flicking it out over you again, making you cry out in ecstasy. “Aw, you like this, sweet girl? You like how I treat my pretty princess?”

You’re already on pleasure’s cusp, waiting to ascend into its unholy heavens when he leans forward to hear your answer, hitting your g-spot perfectly and making your insides bloom with the heat of release. “Oooohh fuck yes, r-right there!” you cry, throwing your head back into the downy mattress, “Please don’t stop, t-this is the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me!”

“Not yet it’s not,” Boba chuffs between grunts, reaching over to the bedside table. Before you can utter the first sound of protest or question, Boba slings the rest of the bills onto your heaving chest and stuffs his wallet back into your open mouth. Your pleasure snaps so tight at the familiar taste of the leather that you scream around the makeshift gag. He immediately starts rubbing wet, slippery circles on your clit. “That’s it, this is what’s gonna make you come, isn’t it, pretty baby?”

Time slows down, or maybe even stops, stretching out into oblivion on either side of you, divided by this infernal ecstasy Boba is pounding into soul. Tears of pleasure spill out of the corners of your eyes and you can’t seem to catch your breath before his thrusts force it from your lungs again; all you can do is moan some semblance of a response around his wallet and take him deeper into your waiting walls.

That’s when it happens, that subtle shift that brings Boba into that raw, glorious version of himself where he is the master of your twin universes, all-powerful and all-mighty. It’s in the set of his jaw, the snap of hips, and the inky depths of his eyes that it happens, where your energies fall into flawless, seraphic balance. You become two halves of the same whole as he gives and you take, as he pushes and you pull in unspoken harmony. You’ve never had a religious experience, but at the risk of blasphemy, you think this is what one must feel like.

Where else would the divine exist except at the meeting of two souls?

You’re blubbering what you can of his name over and over as your one and only prayer, knowing that your devotion would reap all that it sowed. It’s so much, it’s all so terribly, perfectly much: the pressed open stretch of your ankles over his shoulders, the impossible fullness of his cock inside you, the force of his powerful hips—you need something to hold you against his unrelenting tide. Releasing the sheets, you throw your right hand over your head, curling and uncurling it to tell Boba you wanted his hand in yours.

“I got you, cyare, I got you,” he assures between ragged pants, leaning down to redistribute his weight to interlace his fingers with yours. He shoves his other hand under your hips to adjust your angle and you arch up with a cry when he hits that spot dead on. You know he can feel it too, his eyes screwing shut against the overwhelming pleasure. “Fuck, baby, you feel s-so good, you’re taking me so well. I-I know you’re close, beautiful. Spoil Daddy and come for me… strangle my cock w-with that perfect cunt. Come on, sweetheart, l-let go and let me feel you.”

You’d do anything for him, anything: fight off his many demons, kiss away all his pain, and protect his heart until your dying breath. Coming on his perfect dick when he sucked your nipple between his teeth was the least you could do, right after being his little angel who took every last drop of his cum when he pumped it into you a few bruising thrusts later. Rutting and cursing, Boba rides out both your orgasms, prolonging your combined pleasure until his muscled arms begin to shake with the effort of holding both you and him up.

Blissed out and impossibly, wonderfully content, you enjoy watching how Boba’s dark eyebrows knit together and how his pretty lips form around his little pants as he comes down from his high. When his eyes finally flutter open again, they’re the luscious color of exotic wood polished and shining in the tropical sun—he’s so beautiful all you can do is stare and appreciate the wonder that is Professor Boba Fett.

Gazing lovingly down at you, Boba smiles softly and removes his wallet from your mouth so he can sprinkle sparkling kisses all over your face. “My beautiful, perfect girl,” he coos between the brushes of his lips on your skin, “my sweet, precious babygirl.” Without pulling out, he rolls the two of you over so you’re resting on his chest, your arms wrapped around his neck and your head tucked under his chin.

You slowly come back to your senses together, wrapped in one another’s warmth, easy and unhurried. Saving your post-scene debrief for your bath later, you lazily trace over the ink decorating Boba’s chest, over the slopes and planes of his pectorals and ribs, while he massages your back and shoulders. Much to your dismay, he has to slide out of you so you can sit up and drink some water; he just feels so good, so right inside your velvet walls that you never want him to leave you empty.

Setting down your water bottle after draining its cool contents, you pick up one of the hundreds scattered around the bed, now curious in your orgasmic glow. Holding it up to the light, you curse and sit up when you see the watermark through it. “Kriffing kark! Are all these real?!” you exclaim, shocked at your discovery. You hadn’t dwelled on the details during your romp in the sheets, but now that you're more clear headed, it dawns on you just how much money is in your presence.

Boba watches with open amusement as you repeat your test a few more times to find that the other hundreds in your reach are indeed genuine. “Why wouldn’t they be?” he questions with an impish smile, “I only get the best for my babygirl.” He’s smirking, doing his best to stifle a laugh at your obvious amazement.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies, still chuckling as he swings his legs off the bed. “Order us some room service and I’ll be all ready for you to choke on.” He winks and you roll your eyes as you head towards the room phone. “Oh, and say whatever you want, princess,” he throws over his shoulder, “but no one's ever made you wetter or come harder than this old man.”

Damn if it’s not true, you think with a shrug and a smile—not that you’re going to tell him that, not yet anyways. Looking over the menu placed next to the handset, a warm feeling of contentment washes over you pleasantly, like sunny waves lapping at your mind’s shore. Fucked, filled, and happy with the man of your dreams, you can’t imagine it gets better than this.

MANDO'A TRANSLATIONS

cyare - beloved, love

<Part V

#Oh Professor Fett has me some kinda way...#I'm dumbstruck #I'm a twitching puddle on the floor #other people’s beautiful writing #ex libris fic #professor boba fett #boba fett fic #boba fett smut

72 notes · View notes

pacifymebby · 2 years ago

Text

Peaky Blinders Headcannons

Tommy

🌿Calls you his angel

🌿He comes across as stoney and cold, struggles to show his adoration, but it all comes out when he says thay word. "Cmere angel," "You're my angel," "behave yourself angel,"

🌿Sometimes he really does believe you were sent from heaven to save him

🌿Or to test him... He's so hellbent on protecting you, preserving your innocence, not letting you get close to the darker side of him and his business that he almost loses you

🌿You're always trying to soothe him, to get under his skin, heal him. You're not stupid, you've heard he's a bad man and you know it too

🌿But even bad men deserve love and you adore him

🌿So you keep trying to look after him. At night when he has his terrors you hold his head to your chest and let him fall asleep there, your hands combing through his hair. You'll fall asleep with him resting there like that and in the morning when you wake up, he's usually woken up before you and moved so that its you resting on him. His hands playing with your hair. You know hes trying to pretend the terrors didnt happen, but you let him pretened. Its slow work getting a man like Tommy to open up, the fact that he let you hold him at all is miracle enough for now.

🌿He's killed for you, he thinks you don't know but you do. Of course you know, he's done it so many times, too many times to hide it. The first time it happened you put it down to coincidence. The man who groped you in the Garrison, he was an unpleasant man, exactly the type of man you could imagine would get himself into a fight he couldnt win. When he got stabbed with a broken bottle in a bar fight no one had been surprised. But when it keeps happening? Its hard to ignore the fact that any man who so much as looks at you for too long seems to end up dead or blind.

🌿Is haunted by dreams of you dying, morbidly convinced hes going to lose you, that youre going to be stolen from him. This is why hes so possesive.

🌿 Nothings going to happen to you because hes not going to let you out of his sight, there will always be peaky boys guarding Tommy's angel. But...

🌿 If something does happen to you, Tommy's calculating the cruelest revenge, the slowest most painful method of killing. Hes militant about it. He'll hunt them down. But he'll be so caught up in planning his revemge that instead of being gentle with you and holding you/comforting you, he'll sit at your bedside with a face of thunder, holding your hand too tightly, his mind far away, plotting the finer details of revenge. He will not sleep until the bastard who harmed his angel is dead.

🌿 He doesn't involve you in business at all, if he had it his way he'd keep you at home in the country forever, never let you leave the sanctuary of the home he's built for you.

🌿And why would you want to? Your doting Tommy has done everything he can to craft a little piece of heaven on earth for his little angel.

Alfie

🐻 You're far too young, precious and pretty to be sitting in this old mans lap but

🐻 Theres nowhere else youd rather be

🐻 An unforgiving brute to everyone but you, his "ziskeit" (sweetness). He goes 0 to 100 and then straight back down to 0 for you. By this i mean, he's threatening a man's life in one breath, evil in his eyes, cold and cruel with all that sadistic humor mixed in, but then upon turning to see you've slipped into his office by mistake, he drops his tone, speaks to you calm and quiet and soft.

🐻 Has a habbit of beckoning you over to him so that he can whisper instructions for you. He loves how obedient you are and how delicate you look when you tread soft and quick/nimble across the room to be by his side.

🐻 "shikseleh, go wait outside for your old man, thats a good girl, you wait for me and I'll come find you as soon as i can" "patience ziskeit, will you do me a favour? I want you to go find olly for me right, and you tell him, that i told you, that if he doesn't come get this selfish little bastard out of my office I'll kill him...."

🐻 Sending you on your way with a little pat on the cheek only to stop you as you get to the door... "wait a minute, wait... I forgot something very important didnt I... Don't swear..."

🐻 He knows he can't protect you and he doesn't want you to be too innocent - after all hes a dirty old man and there are things he wants to do with you that innocent girls just can't do...

🐻 But he likes to pretend you're innocent and hes determined to keep you good so there are rules. Alfie loves rules.

🐻 No swearing, no answering back, you're to do as you're told by him, youre not to speak to the men in the bakery (they aren't even allowed to look at you) and if you're going to sit down? Well you must sit in your old mans lap.

🐻 He hasnt had to kill anyone over you yet but thats only because he strikes the fear of god into everyone he meets. No one in their right mind would lay a finger on you. The men in the bakery know to turn their heads away and avert their gaze when you walk in looking for your old man.

🐻 He has thought about it many times however... What he'd do if anything were to happen to you. Thats why he wakes you sometimes in the middle of the night, his fingers stroking your cheek, his lips skimming your hair. He'll lie on his back, the weight of your sleeping body on top of his, his fingers tracing down your spine, your head held in the palm of his hand. And he'll hold you all night, thinking about the violence hed commit if anyone ever even threatened you.

John

🌼 Brings you flowers all the time, buys you so many pretty things. He doesnt think he's good enough to win you over with looks/charm and personality so this is how he tries to attract you. With gifts.

🌼 But you adore him, and you don't need all these gifts to attract you to him because youve only ever had eyes for him.

🌼 He's a little insecure, so he's always getting into fights over you. Nothing serious really, but if anyone dares to observe how beautiful you are, John takes offense. "She's too good for me aye? That what youre saying?" "Reckon you'd like to try a piece of my girl?"

🌼 Calls you all manner of sweet little pet names but his favourite is "little flower,"

🌼 You bring out the child in him, he's boyish and careless with you, will play fight, sneak up on you and make you jump just to hear you shriek and jump into his arms. Will chase you and sling you over his shoulder when he catches you.

🌼 Can't take his eyes off you, you really really ruin his cool. His brothers and sister take the piss and he often finds himself embarassed and blushing because they've caught him watching you again.

🌼 Worries about you, worries you will get hurt because of his deeds with the peakys, naively thinks he can protect you from everything.

🌼 When you are hurt he's both full of guilt/shame and desperate for revenge. Whoever hurt you is going to pay with their life... But his first worry is you, he won't leave your side until youre better, or unless you manage to convince him to go.

🌼 Is always always big spoon, even when really hes the one who needs hugging. He likes to wrap you up in his arms, hold onto you and bury his face in your neck. This way when hes hurt you wont know hes crying (you know but you let him pretend)

Arthur

🍂 Kind of whipped?? Dotes on you completely, his brothers think its imasculating but he just worships you.

🍂 Anything you want or need, he'll get/do/give

🍂 Knows he should do more to protect you from business but feels hopeless to do so.

🍂 More than this though he wants to keep you safe from himself... He tries to keep a distance from you, and when hes angry he wont see you, he'll avoid you... Which you hate...

🍂 He has it in his head that youre more innocent than you are until one day you catch him when hes feeling violently angry... Hes in the most tumultuous mood, his brothers pissed him off and he's all riled up on snow...

🍂 Hes storming down the night time street, going to find a whore to use up all his anger on before he goes to meet you... Just so he can calm down... Really hes doing it for you...

🍂 But you catch him and tell him to take it out on you... You tell him not to hold back but he does, he can't do that to you...

🍂 But now youve been together so long and he knows he wont hurt you... That you like it when hes violent with you. He'll be so rough with you, he'll choke you, slap you, throw you over the table, treat you so harsh, but he'll always say the sweetest things to you. He'll fuck you real hard whilst grunting the most complimentary and gentle things. "Youre my fucking cherub darling, my fucking little cherub..."

🍂 He. Has. Killed. So. Many. Men. Over. You. So many. Even before you were his, if he saw someone look at you, or flirt with you, or just talk about you, he'd cut in and tell them to watch their tongue. Hes been known to lose his temper over almost nothing, beat a man half to death over one glance.... But you, in your own fucked up way, kind of love that.

🍂 Likes to take baths with you, in the bath hes gentle with you. Will sit between your legs and have you wash his hair, your fingers massaging his scalp make him feel so calm.

🍂 You are the only person who can really calm him down and dull his pain.

🍂 He calls you his angel, his saving grace, because he believes youve been sent to save him, to heal him.

🍂 Lets you hold him when he's calmed down from a rage and is upset, lets you see him cry but isnt shy about telling you it bothers him. You are often big spoon at night, wrapped around him comfortingly. He will take your hands and bring them to his lips, kiss every one of your fingers and hold them close to his face.

Bonnie

🍀 You are his little dove, he hasn't used your real name since the day he learnt it, you have just always been his little dove.

🍀 Tries very hard to keep his innocent dove away from the peaky blinders. You haven't met them yet and Bonnie doesn't intend for you to.

🍀 He just feels so protective of you. Youre much smaller than him, he can pick you up with one arm and your hand feels so small held in his. The thought of you being in the same room as the blinders sends a shudder down his spine. Youre too good, too precious.

🍀 Always holding your hand, whenever he has the chance. Always doing things for you, making sure youre okay. He's absolutely obsessed with how small your hands are in comparison to his.

�� Even before you were together he felt protective over you. He would walk you wherever you needed to go, or give you rides on his horse. He socked another lad at the camp once for pulling your hair and trying to tease you.

🍀 It took him absolutely forever to admit to anyone that he actually had feelings for you...even though it was very obvious. He gets far too shy and blushes around you. He thinks the world of you and can't believe his luck. Hes absolutely giddy with pride whenever hes with you.

🍀 Is so sweet, picks you wild flowers, brings you little gifts. He made a little wooden crusifix for you once and threaded it onto a piece of string. Its not the most glamorous jewlery but you never take it off.

🍀 Always holding your hand, playing with your fingers. Likes it when you wear his jackets and shirts. Especially when he has to leave you and go to do work for Tommy. He feels as though having his jacket around your shoulders lets him keep holding you even after hes gone.

🍀 Hasn't killed for you yet... Would kill for you in a heartbeat...even tommy shelby.

🍀 Is nervous for you to see him fight in case it scares you, or makes you scared of him, because youre timid and because you were scared of him when you were younger and before you were friends.

🍀 But he also feels really proud when you come to his fights, he wants to impress you and make you proud.

🍀And he especially likes when you patch him up afterwards and carefully kiss his bruises.

🍀 Dreams of running away with you, the two of you going to live in a vardo together, far away from the peakys, somewhere safe, travelling together, always alone together.

🍀 Desperate to put a baby inside you, tells you all the time.

🍀 There were signs at first which you supposed you missed, but once you're together a little while he has a real soft dom side to him youre not expexting. He's determined to stamp out any insecuroties you might have, praises you all the time, always telling you how beautiful /pretty/adorable you are and...

🍀 They're never said out loud but he has rules for you. They aren't like alfies rules, they're not as jealous. But,

You have to look after yourself, he reminds you when you need to eat, he likes to be the one who washes your hair, he doesn't like it when you leave the camp on your own and especially doesnt want you going into birmingham without him.

🍀 When you look back you realise he always had these rules for you, he'd never let you off on your own, he'd always been over protective... And you also realise youd always complied amd been good for him... You don't know why.

🍀 Absolutely will not sleep unless hes holding you, likes to feel your body pressed against his with you sleeping on top of him. Will play with your hair and draw patterns on your skin. Unless its the night after a fight in which case youre permitted to hold him instead.

Isiah

🐀 Knows he shouldnt but definitely starts fights to try and impress you

🐀Is always a little bit paranoid that if he lets you hang around with finn and michael, one of them will steal you away from him.

🐀Over protective, puts on a front of being a fighter who's tough and quick tempered, but is actually just very sweet and in love with you.

🐀Is quite cocky, always flirting with you, really enjoys showing you off... Very tactile, always touching you. He is especially tactile around you in front of his friends and you know this is because he wants to remind them that you belong to him.

🐀Asks you who you love/who you belong to on a regular basis, multiple times a day. He'll catch your hand as youre leaving the room, pin you down in bed or up against a wall, get all up in your personal space and ask you... Won't let you go until you answer him so sometimes you stall on purpose

🐀And sometimes you hmmm and give him the wrong answer just to see what he'll do...

🐀Poor boy feels he has to prove himself and so usually you end up getting fucked real hard, only allowed to cum when he asks you the question again and you give him the right answer.

🐀Doesnt have to prove he's a man because he's so sure of himself in that specific way. Which is hot... You like the fact he lets you be big spoon sometimes, that he lets you cling onto him and nestle in as close as you can. Secretly he likes the feeling of being held.

🐀Does have a bit of a temper, will get angry with you if you've been flirting with other men, sulks if youve spent a lot of time talking with Michael or Finn. Doesn't like when you join in their teasing of him... Has plenty of ways to punish you for it later. Isn't gentle.

Michael

☘️ When you first met you thought Michael was just a mummys boy. You thought he was too soft for you...

☘️ My god were you mistaken.

☘️ Michael has an underdog complex worse than Tommy Shelby, he is ALWAYS trying to prove something. That he's a man, that he's a bad man, that you're his girl, that he's good enough for you...

☘️ Sometimes he speaks too harshly to you when hes in one of his moods but when he sees the hurt in your eyes he apologises, makes you come to him so he can kiss you and stroke your cheek. He never tells you he's sorry though and you always know hes going to do it again.

☘️ But you kind of like it like that. You like hos angry streak, it excites you, you want to know how far he'd go if you pissed him off. He wouldn't kill you, youre almost certain of that.

☘️ And besides you have the temper to match... If he ever slapped you he knows you'd hit him back twice as hard. Sometimes That is the only thing that stops him hitting you... Not his deeply ingrained principles about hitting girls.

☘️ You watch him change, no longer soft and easily bullied, but fierce, just as cruel, just as rotten as the rest of them... Part of you is sad to see his sweet side leave him but another part of you, and not a small part of you, finds it hot, exciting.

☘️ You like pushing him to his limits, arguing back until he snaps. You like seeing his temper flare and youll do anything in your power to make him snap.

☘️ He's unnaturally loyal for a peaky boy, at first you don't believe it when other people tell you they've seen him turn girls down because of you, then you think it's just a phase, he's got that new love obsession. But after awhile you realise his obsession with you is all consuming... He won't cheat on you because to him theres no point in fucking someone who isnt you. He wouldn't get any pleasure or satisfaction from dominating and owning someone else... Only you...

☘️ You argue and fight a lot, you both have sharp tempers and the relationship looks toxic... It probably is toxic, but you don't care. You set eachother on fire, breath life into eachother. You like getting into trouble with Michael. It started as partners in crime, the two of you against the world, and in many ways it is, youre ride or die, no one can come between you...

☘️ Except you love to make him angry. You love to push him over the edge so that he grabs you by the throat and squeezes, choking you whilst he tells you youre his, "you belong to me so be-fucking-have yourself you ungrateful little brat"

☘️ Youre spoilt because he spoils you and he loves to remind you. Hes proud that he can. He was raised a gentleman remember and he knows exactly how to treat a woman. When you're good you get showered in gifts and praise and kisses.

☘️ He likes to control you completely, down to the way you wear your hair and the clothes you dress. He tells you what to put on in the morning and if he doesnt like what youve chosen he demands you change.

☘️ And this is where his softer side comes out... If he doesnt like what youre wearing he demands you change, but he's the one who changes you. He undresses you, he helps you into your new outfit. If he doesnt like your hair he takes it out gently and fixes it the way he wants to see it. He wipes your make up off, tells you you look too much like a whore... His words are always so harsh but his actions so gentle and caring.

☘️ When hes done he'll say something like "there, thats better," and kiss you sweetly.

☘️ Hates it when other men talk to you, most men don't because theyve seen what has happened in the past but Tommy has no respect for Michael and no respect for your relationship. He doesn't even really find you attractive, but he will touch you, flirt with you, try to make you blush, just to piss his cousin off. And it works. And you'd be lying if you said you didnt try to encourage that behaviour because when Michael has something to prove...

☘️ Its delicious.

#peaky blinders headcanon #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby x reader #Arthur shelby x reader #Bonnie gold x reader #john shelby x reader

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dumbbitchenergy17 · 2 years ago

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Mimic Chapter 42

Grief was an easy thing to move on from, it's been done multiple times but this time...it might not be easy

Words- 2743

Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Warnings: Just sadness, some violence but towards objects, depreciating thoughts, lack of self-care, lots of angst, TARTARUS ESCAPEES ARC SPOILERS

A/N: We're back hey <3

Y/n,

I’m not sure how to start this off…I hadn’t expected things to end up like this but here we are. I love you. I know this is a cowardly way of telling you, you deserve to be told face to face but I can’t. Shigaraki and All For One will now be after me so I need to keep my distance from everyone especially you. I can’t let you get hurt again…I won’t let anyone hurt you again. I can remember when I first met you like it was yesterday, I held the door on the train open for you and you thanked me with that gorgeous smile of yours and you said, “You’re the kid that completely totaled that Zero pointer, how are your bones?” It was at that moment I knew I loved you. Every time I spent with you, during class, when you walked me home after I broke both my arms during the Sports Festival, cleaning each other's cuts and bruises Gran Torino gave us during our work study, training together growing stronger with our quirks, every moment together I cherished. Even when we fought alongside each other or against I still loved you. And it’s because of that love I have for you I have to leave.

We said we’re the only ones that understand each other and I hope you can understand the reason I had to leave. I will accept any yelling or fighting you want to send my way I deserve it but it will be all worth it when all this is over. I don’t know when I’ll be back but you will always be on my mind, the moment I wake up to the second I sleep I will be thinking of you. I need you to stay strong…you’ll probably want to shut down or go out and find me but you can’t. I need you safe for when I return. Let the class in…with everything out there you’re going to think everyone is your enemy but we aren’t. We will always be there for you. I love you Y/n..I will love you, Y/n Shimura, until my dying breath. I could say it a million times but that wouldn’t describe all of it. I want you to look outside…yes right now whatever you’re seeing the sun and the sky or the moon and the stars know that I’m looking at the same ones right now.

I love you Y/n. With all my heart I will love you.

-Izuku Midoriya

You thought you understood grief…understood the feeling of losing someone. You’ve experienced it your entire life, losing your family, losing your freedom, your trust, even your own life, but it didn’t compare to what you felt now. You weren’t even sure you could describe it as a feeling. You weren’t sure you could feel anything anymore, happiness….fear..anger…love. They all were gone your heart an empty space in your chest just used to keep you alive but unable to love or be loved.

Were you cursed? Destined to remain alone and everyone around you to get hurt and leave you. Your parents…your siblings…your mentors, the people you looked up to, the boy you lov-. You couldn’t even say the word. The word stuck within your throat just on the tip of your tongue bursting to be set free but remains trapped. Once you say it…it’s the truth it’s reality..you let your guard down and let someone in..you fully gave them your trust giving your delicate heart for them to cherish and protect. So even now as you sit alone you still clutch your heart safe with you away from anyone.

“Y/n…” A soft voice calls out and you don’t look at them your hair blocking their view of your face as they stand in the doorway. Kirishima and Mina look into your room…it’s a complete disaster. Your desk and chair were flipped over the contents on top of it were strewed across the floor, glass from the picture frames littered the ground, and your drawers from your dresser were ripped open it fallen over as well. If a tornado went through your dorm that would describe the state of your room as you sit outside on your balcony the cool air blowing through your hair. A letter clutched within your fingers.

When you returned to the dorm it was a tense moment for you and your classmates. With the truth leaked about everything, your past, your quirk, everything they didn’t know who they were going to meet when you came back. Would you still be the same Y/n they knew even though you were his sister? You returned with Present Mic and you just walked past them all heading straight to your room. No greeting, no words, you didn’t even look at them, as if they all had Hagakure’s quirk. Even with you out of the room, the tension was still thick and that’s when Mic caught them up with everything that you just found out in a few days. Losing your quirk..losing the fight…losing Midoriya. It was shortly after they all heard it. A loud crash made a few of them jump before it went quiet and the noise came back again. Loud bangs and crashes could be heard through three floors and it sent a shiver through them all as the rampage continued for a few minutes before it went quiet…too quiet. Two were sent up to check on you and that’s where they found you.

“Y/n.” Mina’s voice calls out and you don’t move your hands clutching the small piece of paper and a drop of water falls down staining the paper. Panicking you pull the paper away from you not wanting to ruin it. Your lifeline is the only thing you have left. A hand brushes against your shoulder and you don’t even flinch at the sudden touch.

“Shimura…I’m…I’m sorry.” Kirishima whispers his happy energy gone as he looks down at you.

“I never got to tell him…” You whisper and the two look at you and you push yourself to your feet the two watch as you slowly exit the room heading down the hall forgoing the elevator and taking the stairs until you reach the floor underneath you reaching the boys' side. Mina and Kirishima trail behind you as you steadily walk down the hall, the three boys living on this floor watch in silence as you walk past them before stopping at a door. You bring your hand to the doorknob but stop hesitating. Your other hand clutches the note before you push the door open entering the door and closing it behind locking yourself inside that room inside memories in the last moments of Izuku Midoriya…

“Y/n…” His voice is soft his hands light as they trace your face and you smile looking at him as he lies down beside you. His freckles paint skin like stars making constellations the smile that covers his face as he pushes your hair back. “I love you…”

Your hand reaches out petting his skin but your hand drifts through touching the bed. You frown reaching your hand out but the same thing happens again.

“Why can’t you say it?” He speaks again and he’s not laying beside you but standing away from the bed, his hero costume ripped and ruined, blood, sweat, and grime covering him. Tears are the only thing that clean part of his face. “Just say it Y/n…and I’ll come to you.” He begs and you sit up conflict and fear crosses your face as you open your mouth to speak but the words get all choked up.

“I..I-i can’t…” Your voice cracks and he frowns turning away.

“Goodbye Y/n.”

“izuku…Izuku!” You stumble out of the bed trying to go after him your hands going through him as he disappears leaving you sitting on the floor gasping at the air.

This was worse than him being dead because you knew he was out there…but he would just never come back.

There you stayed as days past your classmates haven’t gotten a glimpse of you since you returned and you entered that room. They had no idea if you were eating or if you were even alive, Midoriya’s door remains locked and no matter the amount of begging to be let in or to come out the door remains shut. No one knew what went on in that room and your silence going on for days had made them nervous.

“Do you know if she’s even eaten since coming back?” One of them brings up as the whole class minus two sit together. They had a feeling Midoriya was somewhere out there with the Pros…they wouldn’t let him leave without some eyes watching him. They wanted to pressure Endeavor to reveal his location and they have already gotten in contact with Principal Nezu but if they wanted their plan to work fully they needed all of what’s left of Class 1-A and your status was unknown was their current conversation.

“None of us have seen her leave that room since she entered,” Mina says dark circles resting under her eyes. You were her closest friend and seeing you in this state was killing her as well.

“She could always be getting food and water when we are all asleep,” Kaminari says wanting to think positively.

“She doesn’t,” Bakugo speaks up he sat in the corner of the couch slumped over his gaze glued to the floor. Unlike his normal routine of going to bed at exactly 9 PM, he stayed up his gaze glued to the doorway of the stairs and the elevator waiting to see you enter to get food each night but nothing. He didn’t know if it was guilt or pity that was gnawing at him…your voice clear in his head during the fight. Bleeding out in front of him your arm and chest severely hurt clutching his collar and fear in your eyes.

“Bakugo you better not let him die!”

“The body can only survive up to a week without food but if she’s not drinking water,” Momo brings up a fearful look on her face, “You could only last three days before your body starts to shut down.”

You had been locked in that room for 5 days.

“That’s fucking it,” Bakugo growls pushing himself up and marching to the kitchen the class follows after him and he rips open the fridge pulling out an applesauce and two glasses of water beginning his trek out of the common area. Taking the stairs up to the second floor his footsteps boom against the floor before reaching the boy’s room. Rearing his foot back fully kicking in the door with a boom.

“BAKUGO!” Some of his classmates yell out as he storms into the room and they all try following after him. Inside your lay motionlessly on the bed.

“Oi! I’m fucking done with this ya hear me!” Bakugo yells turning the lights on and you groan but still don’t move. Placing the food and one water he opens the other before fully tossing it on you getting you soaked. You shriek pushing yourself up almost falling back down with your shaky limbs. You throw away a piece of paper from you so it doesn’t get wetter and the boy pushes you back down pinning you down. “You gotta fucking eat…you’re not dying.” He says holding the spoon out but you glare at him looking away and he scoffs. His free hand snatches your face forcing your jaw open forcing the spoon in your mouth before covering your mouth and pinching your nose.

“Bakubro don’t be so rough!” Kirishima yells out

“Eat the damn food or you’re going to pass out.” He says ignoring the redhead as you try pushing him off but with you pinned your weak body, and the air leaving your system you are forced to swallow the food he lets go of your nose and mouth and you suck in air.

“I hate you!” You spit out and he scoffs shoving another spoonful in your mouth and you don’t fight eating it much to your classmates' relief.

“Whatever hate me all ya want!” He says bringing over the water and letting you sip it shaking your head when you have enough water in your mouth. After a bit more of eating and drinking Bakugo moves off still helping you feed yourself but you slowly get the hang of it yourself. Once you finish the food and water he flicks you on the forehead.

“Pull that shit again and I’ll kill you. Hear me.” He says stepping away and his spot is quickly replaced by Mina and Kirishima and the others. “When you’re done clean yourself up you fucking reek.”

“Why…” You mumble putting the water beside the table.

“We’re getting him back.” You freeze knowing exactly who it was they were talking about.

Her hands are soft in your hair making sure the conditioner is everywhere. Your body rests in the bath the bubbles around you cleaning the dirt and grime.

“You don’t have to do this Mina..” You say closing your eyes as she pours water on your head trying to not get it in your eyes.

“It’s what friends do Y/n,” She says scooping up more water in the cup to do one more rinse, “Beside…I should’ve been there..when you needed me.”

You turn around looking at her your eyebrows frowned the red in your eyes piercing, “No don’t blame yourself…it was my own doing that got me here.” You say and she goes to speak before closing her mouth and she turns you back to finish rinsing. “If I only had been stronger…things would’ve been different.” You mumble as the final water runs over your hair and Mina stands up silently going to grab the towel. If you were faster…if you fought harder…maybe if you ended this when you were children…you would have lived a normal life…Shigaraki wouldn’t have killed your parents..you wouldn’t have gone with All For One..none of this would have happened.

Izuku would be here.

“Y/n..come on we gotta get ready.” She says holding out the towel. Nodding you push yourself out accepting it as you dry yourself off before dressing into your underwear as Mina grabs the bandages and cream. Her hands are gently rubbing the medicine against the stitches before wrapping the bandages around. You had three major injuries, straight through your abdomen taking a kidney with it, another hitting your intestines, and the last one through your chest you’re lucky it missed your heart but it did knick part of your right lung. You were alive and standing but were you happy?

“Why do I have to come…I’m like public enemy number one here.” You say as you work your tie while Mina brushes your hair putting in the product.

“Because Endeavor needs to see us together as a class to emphasize our point…Midoriya needs to come home.” Mina says working the brush through any kinks and knots in your hair. The white locks are a heightened feature, especially with your eyes…those bloody red eyes.

“Yeah but the second I step outside I’m going to have people out there wanting my head on a spike.” You say holding out a white lock letting it drop in disgust. Mina pause seeing the disgust in your eyes and she places the brush down wrapping her arm around your shoulders and resting her chin on your head the two of you looking at the mirror.

“I remember when you came into class with this white hair and you were so embarrassed by it but after a while, you grew into it. You owned it…you stood out and it made sense. You were different than any of us. I just see Y/n Shimura..my best friend” She says picking up a lock of your hair you look back in the mirror flinching and see someone else in the reflection his eyes digging into your soul, his white locks flowing down his face…those red eyes. You stand up looking away from the mirror grab your jacket pulling it on.

“You see that but everyone sees the truth..Y/n Shimura. Tomura Shigaraki’s sister…All For One’s damn weapon. That’s all they’ll ever see.”

TAG LIST-

@jazzylove @coochiehaitachi @me-e-mo @galaneiaeris @nothingtoseehere-01 @endlessmari @stxrrielle @one-hell-of-a-potato29

#mimic series #mha #mha x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #shota aizawa #tomura shigaraki #mha spoilers

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24hlevi · 3 years ago

Text

TR Boys Reaction To You Dying

Tokyo Revengers Boys (Sanzu/Haruchiyo, Rindou, Draken/Ken X Gn!Reader

Genre: Pure Angst

Warnings: Major Character Death, Swearing, Drug Abuse, Drug Overdose

Tokyo Revengers Manga Spoilers !!!

i don’t regret making this because i’m sad

Akashi “Sanzu” Haruchiyo :

Sanzu had never thought that popping pills with you would end up killing one of you from taking too much, but of course, the worst thing that could have happened, happened.

“C’mon Y/n, just two more!” Sanzu slurred his words out, leaning on you and holding two pills in his hand, the other one holding onto the counter so he wouldn’t fall over, the mix of alcohol and pills creating a dangerous combination.

You were in the same state as Sanzu, as you usually were when you were with him as it was fun with just the two of you and no one else. “Okay!” You nodded, grabbing the pills from your boyfriend’s hand and putting them in your mouth while Sanzu handed you the opened liquor bottle you both had been drinking from. You swallowed the pills and put the bottle down, giggling lightly.

“See? You’re fine, my little rockstar.” Sanzu smiled at you, holding the sides of your face before kissing you.

You kissed back, wrapping your arms around his neck, tasting the mix of alcohol and different drugs put together when you kissed him. Every time you both felt amazing and in a state of euphoria when you did this. Not to mention it was quite often. You never thought about it killing you, as you didn’t worry about death when you were dating the 2nd in command of Bonten who would kill anyone for you.

It was like you were Bonnie and Clyde, two crazy people that were destined to fall in love. But of course, all happy stories have a bad ending.

Pulling away from the kiss, Sanzu looked at you and noticed you were just staring at him. Letting out a chuckle, he poked your cheek. “Feels good, right?”

When you didn’t respond, Sanzu tilted his head to the side, “Love?” he asked, poking your cheek again.

Suddenly your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your grip went loose from around his neck and you collapsed to the ground, convulsing on the cold wooden floor.

“Y/n?! Shit, Y/n?!” Sanzu started to freak out once he saw you hit the floor, dropping to his knees and pulling you onto your side so you wouldn’t choke on anything that came up. “What the fuck do I do?” He started to question himself, suddenly feeling cold sober once he realized you weren’t stopping. The pink-haired male held onto you and pulled you close to his chest, hoping that you would stop soon enough. “C’mon baby, you’re gonna be okay. Alright? You’ll be okay.”

After a few minutes, you stopped. Sanzu looked down at you with a small smile, thinking that it was all over when your head went limp, staring down at the floor. “Love?” He asked again. He lifted your head up and opened your eyelids, seeing the blank look that was in them. His eyes quickly widened as he put his two first fingers on your neck, attempting to find your pulse. When he found the spot, there wasn’t any heartbeat. “Y/n?”

That day, you had died in the love of your life’s arms. Sanzu was completely changed from that. He took more pills, mixing them with all types of alcohol, hoping that he would overdose like he accidentally made you. Whenever he was by himself he would cry so much that he would end up falling asleep with tear stains on his face and pillow. Until one day, he took too many pills like you and his body did the same as yours did before he eventually died the same way you did, because he knew he deserved the same thing for being the one who killed you.

Haitani Rindou :

Rindou always said that he would protect you, and he did. But it wasn’t enough. Just one day while he was gone at a meeting, something terrible had happened.

“Mr. Haitani Rindou, you need to follow me right now.” Someone barged into the meeting room.

“Tsh, it can wait, can’t it?” Rindou answered.

“It’s about your s/o, sir.” The man told him.

Rindou looked up as soon as he heard that and stood up, turning to Mikey and bowing, “Excuse me for a few moments, I must leave.” Before leaving the meeting room.

Once the doors closed, Rindou immediately started to run to the closest hospital where they said you would be at, sweating through his suit. But he didn’t care at the moment, he cared about you. He couldn’t deal with the thought of you leaving him while he was in a meeting and couldn’t be with you. But a part of him already knew the answer.

Rushing inside the room, Rindou saw you in the hospital bed, eyes closed with a oxygen mask on you, your body filled with bruises and cuts that made him want to kill everyone who did this to you.

Pulling up a chair and sitting next to you, Rindou grabbed your hand, immediately noticing the huge difference in temperature between your hands. He unbuttoned his suit and took off his tie, tossing both to the side as he sat next to you until you woke up.

When you did wake up, Rindou looked at you and his eyes widened when he saw your eyes staring back at his. “Y/n! Oh baby, I was so worried about you.” He leaned over and tried to hug you but you flinched in pain and he retracted himself. “Sorry.”

“Rindou?” You said weakly.

“Yes? What is it, baby?” He immediately responded.

“I love you so much. Thank you…for protecting…me.” You smiled at him before your head fell to the side and the machine showed the flat line that Rindou knew meant the worst thing possible.

“Y/n? Y/n?! Doctor! Hey, I need a doctor in here!” Rindou began to freak out, standing up and running to the door and opening it, yelling that you needed a doctor.

You died that day, with Rindou watching everything going on and how much the doctors did to try and revive you, but it didn’t work. Rindou then only spoke to his brother and Mikey, not wanting to even talk or do anything except kill the people who did that to you. And he did. He hunted down every single one and made sure they were all dead so that you would finally be in heaven in peace, and soon enough, he joined you up there.

Ryuguji “Draken” Ken :

Draken never thought that someone so important to him would have died after what happened with Emma. Maybe that was why you died, he would think to himself. Maybe it was because he wasn’t cautious enough to think something bad to someone he loved again.

It happened one night when you and Draken were on his motorcycle and driving throughout the city when you stopped to get food before going off to a more secretive spot so you two could talk and eat in peace and without worry. But once you both walked inside the restaurant you were surrounded by Tenjiku members, all of them armed with some sort of weapon. Draken put his arm around you as some sort of protection but half of the restaurant was filled with the rival gang members but he wasn’t able to stop what was happening.

Soon enough, one of the members had you in a headlock, and draken was on the floor beaten up, unable to do anything from this point on. The gang member holding you then sat you on your knees in front of Draken as another member held a aluminum baseball bat in a stance prepared to strike it at you.

“Don’t…you dare.” Draken spat out, making an attempt to climb to his feet but was beaten down again.

“Say your last words, sweetheart.” The member holding you down spoke to you with a devilish smirk on his face.

“I love you, Ken.” You smiled at your boyfriend.

“How sweet.” was all you heard before feeling cold aluminum touch the right side of your head and your vision went black.

Draken was forced to see your body hit the ground and the blood come from your head, leaving a puddle of it beneath your head. All he felt was guilt and regret now. Soon enough, sirens were heard from outside and the rival gang quickly ran out, leaving Draken there with you in the front of the restaurant. He knew you were dead only from the amount of blood leaving your head and seeing that you weren’t breathing at all. The cops rushed inside and Draken couldn’t move, he just sat there, staring at your now deceased body.

Draken was forever changed after you died. He started doing reckless things that could easily get him killed because all he could think was that he would get to see you again finally. Takemichi tried to help him the best he could but it never worked, leaving Draken completely alone after Mikey and him separated. Eventually, he died protecting Takemichi and he had a smile whilst dying, because he was happy. He was happy that he was going to see you again, and that you two wouldn’t ever be separated again.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #draken x reader #ken ryuguji #ken ryuuguji x reader #draken ryuguji #rindou haitani #rindou x reader #tokyo revengers scenarios #draken scenarios #rindou scenarios #rindou haitani x reader #sanzu haruchiyo #sanzu x reader #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #sanzu scenarios #request #anon ask #answered

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djarinsbeskar · 3 years ago

Text

Foul - Boxer!Din AU

Definition - To break one of boxing’s rules (i.e. hitting an opponent below the navel, ear or while they are down), which can ultimately lead to point deductions if they are repeated.

A/N: The results of my Boxer!AU poll told me that the majority were interested in a jealous/protective boxer so I hope I have delivered! As always, relaxed fit = unedited, no beta. We also have a sneaky introduction to Paz in the Boxer verse which is super exciting! His concept art has been completed by the insanely talented @ronnieiswriting when I said I saw a mix of Jason Momoa and Winston Duke as our heavy. PLEASE heed the warnings in this chapter. There is nothing explicit but the topics hinted at might be triggering.

Word Count: 7k

Rating: 18+ (NO Minors)

Warnings: SMUT! (unprotected sex), blood and violence, toxic masculinity and derogatory speech, hints at discussions of non-con, somewhat possessive behavior, spanking, dom!Din and everything that comes with it.

Main Masterlist | Boxer Materlist

He might as well have been in hell. A colosseum of decaying humanity and dirt floors that erupted in a burst of dust like poisonous ash every time his next opponent fell. The hollow thump of pure muscle meeting the ground of the makeshift ring only drowned by the cheers of spectators. Masked, shadowed—unseen as they dropped hundreds – thousands sometimes – on which gladiator would remain standing in the end.

He felt like a king, a god among men within the confines of his realm of rope and canvas. It was easy to forget—standing under the spotlights that highlighted the sweat and blood and sculpted beauty of primal masculinity that it was a hollow victory any time he fought in the seedy underground rings of Akiva.

Every gladiator was a slave. Even the victor.

Why the fuck did he think it was a good idea to let you come to one of these fights?

“Enough!”

Paz’s unassailable strength banded around Din’s chest, pinning his arms to his side—attempting to contain lightning in a glass jar. Sweat, blood—it all dripped into Din’s eyes as he growled at his opponent, passed out in the middle of the dirt ring—face swollen and puffy from Din’s fists.

Laser focus and animosity spilled from charcoal eyes as he tried to break free of his friends hold with a vicious yank forward of powerful shoulder and an unfaltering purpose. The bastard had it coming. One round a few punches wasn’t enough to slake Din’s anger, the fumes of rage seeping into his skin and clouding his senses until all he could think of was making the asshole on the ground before him pay.

The practiced speed that Din wrapped his hands slowed at the rowdy group on the other side of the room. Dammit, for all the money they brought in, could these cheapskates not provide separate fucking changing rooms so he didn’t have to be subjected to idiots jacking themselves up on testosterone and false hope?

But pissing contests and fragile masculinity weren’t what caught his attention. He could tune that bullshit out like a fine art. What caught Din’s attention was the obvious death wish one of his possible opponents had – if he even managed to get that far up the ranks to Din – when he waved a red flag in front of the boxers’ metaphorical bull.

“See that one in the front row? You know the one I’m talking about.”

Bawdy agreements and asinine gestures raked up Din’s spine, thorny—and prickling nerves of instinct that made him pause the music blaring in his ears. He fucking hated the scum he came across in these fights. Gang members, criminals—the dredges of humanity he sometimes worried he was part of.

“Gonna get her on her knees choking on my cock before the night is out. Sluts like that love titles, champions—why else do they attend? Good excuse to win tonight, eh fellas?”

“Do you wanna completely destroy your career?” Paz yelled over the chortles and raucous cheers for more, for revenge—for everything under the poor fallacy of a sun that strung in dim, bald bulbs along the notoriously infamous Avika fighting ring.

Din thought you would be safe, arrogantly assuming people would avoid even looking at you once they saw who you were with. And you had been—you were safe, but even he couldn’t protect you from the thoughts of others.

The larger man struggled with him, dragging him out of the ring when it was obvious his words were falling on deaf ears. All Din could hear was the little pricks voice in his head from hours before.

Din stood.

Inhaled, exhaled—tried those bullshit breathing exercises that were supposed to focus his mind before a fight. Help to rein in a temper like his from overflowing in devastating tidal waves to destroy all around him. Din didn’t lose his temper often—but when he did, it was lethal.

The breathing exercises didn’t work.

Because the idiot kept talking.

“Did you see the ass on that?”

Leers sounded from his group of friends. Encouraging the vile words that Din always knew came from a man who felt entitled to a woman’s body. He had seen enough of the underbelly of the world to know what that led to time and again. Din might have been shameless in his youth and even until recently when it came to sex, to one night stands, to women—but he fucking respected the girls he fucked or didn’t fuck.

“Traipsing around in a dress like that? She’s looking for the attention,” the asshole defended himself when one of his party voiced an alternative point of view. They were promptly shut down and didn’t speak again.

Din’s blood turned to ice. An image of you running a hand down his arm on your way to your seat when you parted ways for him to get ready, dress sinfully tight but effortlessly classy—a zip front he was dying to pull open with his teeth later that night.

“It’ll look so good with my cock buried in it…”

The ice in his blood turned to fury, white hot and molten as he tied off the tape at his wrists—throwing the roll into the dingy locker he had been given for the evening. The clatter of noise from where it slammed against the metal back was the only warning he was planning on giving them. The lull of conversation was fleeting, his warning going unheeded—when dim-witted morons didn’t read the murder in his gaze.

Looks like they weren’t nearly as intelligent as the pigs he thought them to be.

Grabbing his water bottle and phone, Din stalked towards the chipped door—distracting himself with a text of “don’t go anywhere alone in this place, sweetheart. Ask Paz to go with you” sent to you without a second thought.

The immediate response of “Yes yes I know, for the thousandth time. Don’t worry and focus on yourself” did little to assuage the roar of blood in his ears. There was only one thing he heard over the noise, one thing as his vision became hued in red and fixated on a single target.

“Wonder if she’ll let me fuck her there too—can’t imagine she’s a virgin but her ass will still probably be tighter than her cunt.”

Bald headed and littered in scars and tattoos of a gang known for their viciousness, the other boxer – if he could even be called that – thrust vulgarly into the air, mimicking the hold he would have on the girl. Din’s girl.

The fucker had a death wish.

And Din was only too happy to play the part of the grim reaper.

His friends voice hardly registered over that same ringing in his ears, the roar of protective aggression at the lecherous sneer on the other man’s face who now lay in a heap in the dirt, the filth he spewed about his masseuse, his girl. How beady eyes, cold and villainous dared to drift away from Din before the bell sounded—over his shoulder, to where he knew you were sitting. Knowing your body had been tainted by the gaze of a man who would sooner take what he wanted from you by force than look at you with anything akin to the respect you deserved—it made something snap inside of Din.

And he attacked.

He was lucky he had only been disqualified.

He was damn lucky no one called the cops.

But the perks of underground fighting, was that everyone who attended had something to hide. And no one wanted to be caught in the middle of shady transactions or betting on fighters to beat each other to a pulp. Hell, the savagery Din subjected the other guy to was exactly what half the fuckers who showed up hoped to see.

Din wasn’t just a nameless street fighter though, not anymore. He had something to lose. Any smear on his record for assault and he would be suspended from tournament participation quicker than the asshole’s body dropped after a crushing blow under the jaw by Din’s right uppercut.

Thank fuck Din’s main sponsor was equally as shady. A good man by Din’s logic, but merciless when it came to succeeding. Din being benched was the surest way to make his benefactors patience run out. No, Paz was right—Boba even more so when he clocked Din good in the cheek after Paz wrestled the irate male out of the ring.

“You fucking idiot, bloodlust is an ugly image, boy—”

“I am not a boy—” Din snapped at Boba, teeth bared and bloody from his split lip, neck straining when he spat the words viciously at his long-time coach. He ran his tongue over the metallic tang of blood before spitting it out of his mouth onto the dirt flooring by the chaotic rows of metal seating.

“You almost killed a guy in the ring, you little shit,” Boba snarled with equal venom, matching the anger reflected in Din’s gaze with furious sense Din didn’t want to witness.

“Let me go,” was all Din growled, eyes never leaving his coach’s even when Paz loosened his arms around his chest. Heaving, coal black eyes darkened dangerously and stabbed the former boxer with a dare to try and restrain him again. The other man shook a rope of dreadlock that had come loose from the strip of leather he kept his hair tied in and made to say something when Din interrupted,

“Where is she?”

Paz closed his mouth, heavy brows furrowing over his eyes as recognition dawned in their dark hues,

“Is that what this is about? Dammit, vod—it’s not like she’s your girlfriend, isn’t that what you always say?”

“Don’t fucking try me tonight—” Din snapped aggressively, the threatening hum between the two men charged to dangerous voltage.

“Din?”

Your voice washed over him – aloe on the burns his fury had scorched his skin with – and he was making his way over to you in the next moment, mind battling with instinct as he ignored the calls and curses of his friends.

Mine.

Not yours—

Mine.

He moved with feral grace, parting the sea of people who bleated from the sidelines but cowered in his presence once his attention was facing them and there was no canvas or rope to separate boxer from spectator. They were lucky. He didn’t see them. Would step on them if they were stupid enough to stay in his path. All he could see, was you—watching him with confusion and concern marring those pretty features, absent of fear in the face of an incensed, adrenaline fueled boxer post fight.

He exhaled a growl as he came to stand before you, the sound cavernous and deep in his chest—the hands you had lifted to examine his face intercepted by his own when he grabbed them. His fingers wrapped fully around your wrists, and he was reminded of how fragile you were – even if you worked out whenever you could and had a will of iron that would make you whack him for saying that – and just how easily a man like him, any of the fighters here tonight—could hurt you.

Never.

They wouldn’t dare.

Not with him around.

But how could they know?

How would they know to stay the fuck away from you?

Knuckles stained with dirt and blood; his hand rasped against the softness of your palm as he dragged you in the direction of the unused backstage waiting room fighters had been offered as a changing room. Where this whole fucking thing started.

“Din—Din, what the hell happened up there?”

You jogged behind him to keep up with his pace, long legs taking him farther than your shorter ones could when confined to the heels you had worn for the night out. He stalked through the dimly lit corridors to the flaky, chipped door with a temporary sign on lined paper with “ATHLETES” scrawled along the front of it like some ironic joke.

He almost bent the worn, cheap metal handle in half—nearly pulled it from its socket with how hard he tore the door open and dragged you over the threshold inside.

You whirled on him with a huff, eyes flashing and hands planting on your hips in growing annoyance.

“Din will you just—”

You didn’t get another word out.

His wrapped hands cupped your cheeks between them, his mouth on yours hungrily when he bent over you. Biting, clawing, desperate—the kiss was more a battle of tongue and teeth than anything else. There was nothing soft, nothing slow or affectionate about the way his teeth sank into your bottom lip so hard you gasped. The way the blood seeping from his split lip painted yours in a crimson rouge—smeared and varnishing you in a visceral mark of his claim.

“Mine,” he snarled unknowingly into your mouth, lapping his tongue along the prairies of your tastebuds, plundering the depths of your mouth to brand every inch of you he could reach. Inside and out. His hands had the same idea, forming down over the shape of your curves as he walked you back blindly to the disused vanity pushed against the closest wall. Topped with a row of mirrors undoubtedly used by performers for whatever this place had once been used for, the glass was now aged with discoloration.

It didn’t matter.

He didn’t have eyes for anything but you as he hiked your legs up to perch you on the edge, your fingers curled into the taut muscles at his neck and clawing down over the sweat slick muscles of his pecs—catching on flat nipples that made ripples of pleasure heat his body further. Mad him tangle a hand in your hair, yank your head back harshly and meet your eyes with dark desire before dropping to your neck. His newest target.

“Din…” your irritated, questioning tone had morphed to fervent sighs. His tongue mapped a trail from the corner of your mouth – tasting the tang of his own blood – to the rapid tattoo of your pulse, a delicate sheen of perspiration beginning to shimmer on your flushed skin from the arousal. Another layer of flavor for him to get drunk on.

So fucking hot under his hands.

So beautiful.

So his.

“Mine,” he repeated into the curve of your neck, framed by tremulous stretches of muscle either side that he carved with scrapes of his teeth to leave tracks of slow fading pink grazes before he bit into it. Your legs – already open and inviting him to settle between them – crossed at the ankles around his narrow hips to keep him close. It was fucking intoxicating the way he could make you feel, the desperate need he had for you.

Months of sleeping together, of knowing his body so intimately had given you a rare insight to his emotions whether he knew it or not. And you knew he didn’t need to talk right now, he needed to fuck. To work through whatever had affected him so badly in hard kisses and rough hands on your soft flesh. It didn’t stop your stomach from flipping at his possessive words though, deliriously spoken but whispering the unacknowledged desires you had for him beyond his body.

“Yours,” you admitted before you could stop yourself, your hand cupping under his jaw to lift his mouth back to yours. His raspy moan at your agreement turned positively filthy when you carded short nails through his damp hair. Din was weak to having his hair stroked, his staunch dominance buckling in violent shivers of pleasure when you dragged those skilled fingers down the back of his skull and neck.

Traipsing around in a dress like that…

His eyes flew open, and he broke the kiss—ripped his mouth from yours to press his forehead to yours, eyes searching while his free hand ran indulgently up your torso to the neckline of your dress,

“Never let anyone disrespect you, sweetheart—” he rumbled, his fingers already undoing the zip of the dress, the nude pink material tempting to the eye and celebrating those features you were most proud of—that he found irresistible to know you loved. That someone could make you uncomfortable in those clothes… fucker. He snarled and pressed a long kiss to your mouth, large hands spreading the sides of the dress open wide – no underwear, baby? – and shucked the material down your arms to leave you bare before him.

His appreciation for your body – fucking gorgeous – was only tampered by the frustration he had with himself at the noise of confusion you made at his words. Of course, you hadn’t heard anything that asshole had said thankfully—but fuck, he couldn’t get it out of his head. You read his desperation somehow, and nodded slowly with puzzled eyes, teeth sinking into your swollen bottom lip as you leaned back on your hands.

So trusting…

Fuck.

It made alarm and something akin to fear rise swell uncomfortably in his throat.

He tried again.

“Never let anyone take advantage of you,” he whispered against your mouth in earnest, his hands running up your bare thighs to press his thumbs into the seams of your legs and hips, “tell me—”

His mouth dropped to your collarbone, funneling those feelings into lapping down to your heaving breasts, sucking a nipple into his mouth with a groan and befuddling your mind to his request until he nipped the swollen peak – say it, baby – and caused your head to fall back against the mirror,

“Yes—yes,” you moaned, “I won’t—”

He snarled internally, dammit. Hearing you say it didn’t help. He wanted to say how he wouldn’t let anyone disrespect you, how he wouldn’t let anyone ever take advantage of you. But he couldn’t. Had to frame it like advice he would give any woman he knew instead of speaking it like the promise he wanted to make.

Din had been fucking you for the last few months now, exclusively after only a few months—but it never went beyond that. He had no reason, no excuse to be worried over your life or safety or what you did when you weren’t in his bed. He wasn’t expected to be involved in your life the way a friend or family member was. Not the way a boyfriend was.

He didn’t do relationships. Never had. Too much trouble and frankly—he liked his privacy, his space—and liked not being accountable to anyone but himself. The consequences of any shitty decisions he made would fall on him and him alone. If he demanded that of the women he slept with and then insisted on inserting himself into their lives in the next breath, he would be a hypocrite. And Din hated hypocrites.

He couldn’t.

But fuck. He never wanted to hear someone speak that way about you, never wanted them to think they had the slightest chance with a woman like you. His blood boiled at the notion of someone else’s hands on you, his tempered flared when he imagined your pleasure or smiles, or laughter give to someone who didn’t deserve you.

Like he did?

Fuck no, he knew he didn’t.

He never said he wasn’t selfish though, and he coveted you with sinful greed.

“Fuck me, baby—please, please—” you mewled into his neck as your hands that had started all of this with that first massage, fit into the sliver of space between your bodies to stroke along his cock over his shorts impatiently. His head fell back, and his mind blissfully emptied for a moment, grunting your name at the frisson of pleasure before those damned memories resurfaced again.

Look at the ass on that.

That.

Her. You weren’t a thing, a possession. You were—

He snarled. Misplaced anger manifesting in aggressive passion as he grabbed your wrist from where you stroked him to pin behind your back on the vanity.

“Always so eager, aren’t you—” he grinned darkly when you nodded, “turn around.”

The command was delivered low and dangerous, more a rumble of noise—deep echoes of jungle predators crackling like the kindling of threat, inspiring awareness that one wrong move would be fatal. But you never made a wrong move—not for as long as he had known you. Whether it was alleviating a pain deep in his muscles that had bothered him for months or pushing yourself slowing off the vanity to your feet as you were now—you always knew what he needed.

Wisps of hair fell into his eyes as he watched you—the decided turn of your naked body to dace the mirror—eyes never leaving his even as they caught them again in the aged glass. Bending forward, your ass pressed into the front of his shorts, and you rested your elbows on the vanity.

Perfect.

He didn’t realize he had whispered the word as he pressed his mouth between your shoulder blades, tongue trailing down the arch of your spine while his hands kneaded plush cheeks—spreading them and exposing your slick cunt to the cool air. The hitches in your breath, small squirms of your hips for relief—they all fed into his desire for you.

And he desired you. Constantly.

“I’m gonna eat your pussy until you can’t stand, baby—and then I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t speak,” he muttered against the shell of your ear, massive bulk bowed over your back and shadowed eyes – the duality of warm walnut and lethal obsidian – bore into yours through the glass.

“I want them all to know who you belong to,” he nipped your ear, flicking his tongue along the cartilage—the black ink on his back catching the light as his muscles rippled with movement, a roll of pleasure from your ass grinding back against him with a whimper of his name, “so don’t be quiet this time, sweetheart.”

Your eyes fluttered open molasses slow from where they had dropped closed at his words,

“What—what hap—” you tried to turn your head, the concern mingled with lust in those gorgeous, honest eyes making warning bells blare painfully – too close – and he silenced you with a kiss. Swallowing the worry that hinted at feelings that surpassed those expected from a fuck buddy, he buried it deep inside himself, in the shadows like a coward. To be locked away where he would remain safe from it.

Your tongue grew sloppy with a moan when he ground his crotch into your ass—dragging the solid thickness of his clothed cock between your soaked folds and up against your tight rear entrance.

Wonder if she’ll let me take her there…

Bastard.

He sucked on your tongue with a groan of your name, hand releasing your cheeks to fan up your ribcage and cup your breasts. You jerked in sensitivity when rough hands pinched sore nipples – he fucking loved how sensitive your tits got just before your period. The cry you released was nothing short of musical, tempting him lower as he kissed down your spine—wrapped hands sanding down over your ribs again when he lapped around the rim of your ass, circling it before he traced lower.

You were dripping.

He dropped to his knees behind you, eyes drunken with an ingrained pride that he was the one in this position, looking at the petals of your swollen pussy glistening with arousal he inspired from just a few kisses and rolls of his hips. He kept his eyes on the steady trickle of wetness from your twitching entrance, his teeth grazing distractedly down the back of your thigh as he did so.

A finger ruddy with flecks of dried blood caught a string of your arousal – don’t waste a drop – and he sucked it between his lips with an approving groan, the noise of your whimpers the perfect accompaniment. Blood and lust. The essence of humanity, that was what he tasted when he sucked his finger clean. It tasted like life. And he wanted more.

A sharp crack echoed through the room when his hand came down hard on one cheek, and again... and again—each strike making that dripping wetness gush until he couldn’t hold back anymore. He buried his face in your cunt, nosing at your entrance and tongue spreading puffy lips apart so he could trace in pitter patter swipes through your folds—greedily gathering anything he could get on his tongue before swallowing. Dehydrated on the sands of depravity and sordid company—your cunt was an oasis of relief where he eagerly drank his fill.

You tried to move, your hips slamming up against the edge of the vanity – that’ll bruise – and you keened with a shuddering cry when his mouth simply followed your attempt to escape the onslaught of pleasure that was too much too soon.

“Fuck—fuckfuckfuck—” you gasped, dropping a hand back to tangle in his hair, dragging him closer despite your protests. Mm, he loved when you got like this—overstimulated from the first touch. No matter how much you whined, no matter how many times he wiped tears that smudged your makeup when he unraveled orgasm after orgasm from the knots inside you—he knew you loved the intensity as much as he did.

He spanked you again – take it – your cheeks red and beautiful when he spread them side for him to spit directly onto your quivering cunt. His saliva dribbled and mixed with your juices to gather over your clit, his mouth forming over the little bud enthusiastically, urged by your slow ruts back against his face to streak his face with your essence.

“More—” you whimpered.

“Greedy—” he growled back.

The sound of your breathless laugh meshed delightfully with the swallow of a moan – guttural and primal – and made his cock twitch in his shorts. His hips snapped up uselessly from where he was kneeling—finding no purchase or warm embrace to bury itself in as his tongue took that pleasure for itself.

It licked and curled with practiced, seemingly illogical strokes along your clit and up to your entrance—sloppily kissing it before his tongue dove into your tight depths, thumb working in quick circles over your clit. He knew exactly what to do to make you come undone.

Your first orgasm was sudden—strong and surprising. He hadn’t even fucking fingered you and you were already spasming around nothing. Your muscles tensed as you went on your toes to lean even further on the vanity, trying to escape his tongue that worked you through each wave—drowning you in the pleasure he knew only he could give you. You were his. His his his his h—

You sobbed his name, a raw answer to his internal mantra his mind struggled against and failed to overcome.

Din wanted you.

He wanted your body, your mind, your time—he wanted what Paz had.

Fuck.

The way the older man mooned and gazed with shameless adoration for the little baker he had fallen for in so short a time. Hell, Din teased him over it constantly. And maybe he didn’t want that—but he wanted something. Din wanted something with you. Wanted you to visit him in the gym and stop him mid set just to kiss him and tell him that you would wait for him to finish so you could go home together. He wanted to buy you flowers without having to think of a fucking excuse like last time to distance himself from the sentimentality. He wanted to open his front door and feel our presence as more than just a visitor. That a toothbrush and the stray pieces of clothing you forgot at his place would turn to shoes at the door and your taste in décor mixing with his.

Din wanted you.

But he had no idea how to do anything but fuck you. He didn’t know how to date or be romantic. Was clueless to things like companionship—to the softer emotions he knew you craved. That all people craved. Din had no idea how to do any of it.

You lay with your cheek on the wooden surface of the vanity, eyes half-closed and spacey as you watched him lift his head from your pussy, face shiny from your release and when he licked over his lips, still hungry for more—you mewled.

“Don’t tap out on me yet, sweetheart.”

You shook your head, a whimper and almost childish refusal while your cheek remained plastered to the vanity, all strength having left your body and an adorable pout trying to lie and tell him you couldn’t take any more.

“Mm, yes you can—” he answered you, dragging his mouth back up your slit and along your tight ass where he lapped at the rim again. Later. It took time for him to stretch you to take his size—it was better left for when he had you in his apartment and could take his time.

His hand followed his mouths direction as it continued up to meet your mouth—smirking against your lips at the whimpers you made from the slaps he gave your pussy—the obscene, wet sound filling the area with each slap slap slap until his hand was damn near slipping every time he struck your cunt from how wet it was.

A bang on the door—a harsh slap to your pussy so you would moan just right for him, and he growled out a threatening “occupied” to whoever was outside. You were too high strung to even notice.

“No one else can have you,” he rasped darkly into your temple, his free hand tangling in the strands to pull your head back against his shoulder—the position no doubt edging on uncomfortable with the way your spine and neck were arched back—moUlded into his hard frame. Your eyes fell to half mast even as your lips parted—still smeared with specks of blood you hadn’t yet licked or chewed off—and he bit your jaw in warning.

“No one else—” you parroted, your hot breath fanning over his cheek even as you rocked back against him, a steel confidence entering your fucked out gaze—mercurial in the swirling heat, “just like no one else can have you.”

The boldness of your words, the conviction spoken in that voice of wooden flutes and bubbling creeks made his blood light with fire—yes. As much as he anted you, he yearned for you to crave him in return.

“No one else,” he repeated your words back to you, rutting his hips against you when his cock pulsed with a negligent ache that demanded to be addressed. He kept one hand in your hair when he pushed his shorts down enough to free his leaking cock, the turgid length swollen and angry as he rubbed the tip between your lips.

Maybe he would buy you flowers tomorrow, after all.

Din gave you no time to prepare yourself – that’s my girl – sliding inside you with one brutal thrust that had you pushed up against the mirror and his cock engulfed in fiery bliss. He felt the heat run up his spine, a volcanic metamorphism into marble as his muscles froze in an immediate pause to stop himself from spilling inside you after one damn thrust.

You weren’t doing much better—one hand clawing for purchase on the mirror and the other digging your nails into his hip as you panted his name, an incoherent string of curses and praise as your sensitive walls convulsed around him. The position had him pressed right against that one spot he cock curved up against that could make you see stars and your care for being caught dissipate in cries of ecstasy.

“Baby—fuck please, so—too deep—” you whimpered in inane babbles, tightening in residual spasms from your orgasm and the sudden intrusion of his cock, still a stretch after all these months. Too deep… he snorted, rolling his hips hard to try shove himself deeper still. He could never get deep enough, always wanting more—always seeking to conquer the untouched lands of your body.

“Mm, want me to stop?” he teased, dragging his hips back with a smirk at your immediate rejection of no no no fuck—please, no—hand pathetically trying to drag him closer to you by the hip. Lovely little thing… thinking you were strong enough.

“That’s better…” he purred, relief washing over him when he pulled out—the walls of your cunt stretching around him, refusing his exit, and trying to keep him nestled inside you. The pace he chose was brutal. He fucked you like he fought tonight. Violently, mercilessly—and deaf to the calls to relent. But where he wanted his opponent to suffer, he wanted to devastate you with pleasure, enrapture you with ecstasy and leave you moaning his name where others would curse it.

Wet cock slapping as he pounded into you in short, frantic ruts – need you baby… fuck I need you – there was no time for you to catch a full breath before he was knocking it out of you again. His fingers had to tighten in your hair to keep you up – your body trembling under his as he sank his teeth into the taut muscle at your neck and his cock sank into your welcome body – exposed and waiting for him to litter in his signature.

He would never get enough of the way his marks looked on your skin—the way you decorated him in yours. You were powerless to do much else than accept them right now – likely getting him back later – boneless and weak under the attack of his mouth and the dominance of his body.

He would make sure everyone in this fucking shithole of a place knew who you were with. They would have to be blind not to notice the blotches of poppy bruises snaking down your neck with the elusion to more hidden from unworthy eyes. The smudge of your mascara as tears pearled like crystals in the corner of your eyes when you glanced at him in strung out bliss.

“M-more—” you begged, dropping one of your hands between your legs to rub at your clit—fingers splitting around the girth of his cock as he fucked you to feel the thick length disappear into you over and over, the soaked mess amassed from your frantic desire for each other trickling down your thighs.

“Yeah?” he grinned, breathless and sweating for much more pleasing reasons than he had been in the ring, a languid kiss to your neck as he hiked one of your knees up onto the vanity—spreading you wider for him to sink deeper.

You spasmed, your head falling back against his shoulder with a cry.

“Yes—there, there baby, fuck you feel so good…” you rambled, fingers working feverishly over your clit in wet strokes, grazing his balls every time they slapped against your skin and making him muffle his moan in your neck.

Rolling a nipple between his fingers, his large—bloodied hand completely swallowed your breast, squeezing it and tickling sounds that belonged to him from you and into his mouth when you kissed him. One last kiss before you collapsed back onto the vanity, and he stood to his full height so he could ruin you with his cock.

His name was the only thing you remembered as he split you open with full, hard thrusts—the entire length of his cock stretching your tight walls around it and playing along raw nerves already on the brink of another orgasm.

“Gonna cum, sweetheart—” he strained, desperate for release as he watched himself fuck you in the mirror—him behind your smaller body, squirming under the pleasure while his muscles bunched and relaxed with each snap of his hips—the veins in his forearms prominent and tendons taut as he poured all that training and dedication and determination into you, into pleasing you.

“Inside—inside, Din fuck, please—”

His mind emptied. Nothing else mattered about tonight—not the fight, not the disqualification, not the rage. Your eyes—cloudy with lust and achingly trusting as you looked back at him were all he could think about. Nodding without even realizing, the thought of filling you running in his mind on a loop.

“Fuck—!”

He wanted you to cum before him, he always did—but he was so high strung, so tense that he couldn’t stop himself, burying himself to the hilt with several punched out moans—exhaled rapture with every pump of his seed against your waiting womb. Your eyes rolled closed at the amount, bloating you with his release and as he came, you worked your clit frantically—chasing that addictive edge you gladly hurled yourself over at just the thought of him coming inside you.

Din dropped his forehead to your shoulder with a gasp, your spasming walls too much on his sensitive length but he had to stay inside—the contractions of pleasure, the gush of your release might push his out. He couldn’t have that. So, he gritted his teeth, mumbled husky praise – good girl, that’s it—just like that, soak me – to work you through your orgasm and pressed open mouth kisses to sweaty skin, the salt tickling his tongue as he caught his breath.

His mouth worked over the sweep of your shoulder, up your neck to your jaw when your orgasm subsided, purring your name and nonsensical strings of words he had no idea made sense or not. He finally eased his softening cock out of you slowly when you shifted your hips—testing your strength and finding it lacking when you realized both he and the vanity were what kept your legs up.

“Feel… feel better?”

“Mhm…” he confirmed noncommittally, nuzzling the marks beginning to bloom and darken like a forbidden garden only he was allowed indulge in the scent of. One of his hands ran absently down the back of your thigh, feeling for his release—pleased to feel nothing but your sticky arousal, his own still nestled inside your sore cunt.

“Want one of those crepes you’re always raving about from that twenty-four hour place?” he purred, helping you stand—going so far as to pull the straps of your dress back up so that zipping the metal teeth would be easier. Your eyes brightened despite the lazy, satiated fatigue hiding in their orbs.

“Gino’s?”

“Mm,” he nodded, looking down from his greater height and lips quirking in an annoying desire to smile when one – bright as daylight – broke out on yours.

You nodded quickly, looping your arms around his neck to drag him down to your mouth, kissing him good and proper while his hands fell under the still open sides of your dress to settle on bare hips,

“Are you ever going to tell me what set you off tonight?” you mumbled against his lips cautiously, the ghost of a smile from the promise of dessert still lingering but a hesitant worry entering your gaze, unsure if his mood would sour again.

It didn’t.

He nudged his nose along yours, aquiline curve slotting along yours as he hummed in thought, thumbs rubbing lazily into your hips,

“Maybe later,” he settled on and captured your lips again.

You left the changing room together, his gym bag slung over one shoulder and his free arm wrapped around your shoulder—nose never leaving your temple or nuzzling into your hair with blatant affection as you blushed at how obvious it was to anyone who saw you what you had been doing.

You had both tried to tidy yourselves—cleaning the corners of your makeup and trying to flatten your mused hair was about all you could do. Din didn’t even attempt to cover the freshly fucked look of messy hair and heavy eyes as he pulled an unzipped Mythosaur Gym hoodie on over his muscle shirt.

A group were passing in the corridor as you asked him something—his former opponent with one eye swollen shut from the bruises forming around his eye, jaw, and cheeks. Din answered you easily, an automatic response to whatever you were asking as his eyes met his opponents, cold fury and arrogant pride flashing in their depths.

You remained none the wiser as you passed the group, Din’s body protectively placed between you and them. He probably should have told you; he knew you wouldn’t be swayed by it—comfortable in your body as you were, but he couldn’t bring himself to. He could protect you from slander and toxicity at the very least—and he planned to. Even if he had to do so in the shadows for now.

For himself, the swelling and bruising on the idiots’ face weren’t the only thing he had to satisfy himself with. He was the one whose cum was still buried inside you, clinging to your thighs and keeping you slick and wet for him to add more to later when he got you back to his place. And as you glanced up at him with a disarming smile after he dropped his hoodie over your shoulders without a thought once you both were outside in the crisp air of the early morning darkness—he secretly hoped that he would be the only one to have that privilege from then on.

Taglist | Form

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A few who might be interested! @thepoisonofgod @absurdthirst @highsviolets @astroboots

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin smut #boxer!din #the mandalorian smut #mando smut #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #mando x reader #mando x you #pedro pascal #din djarin fic #din djarin fanfic #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian fanfic #star wars smut #star wars fic #star wars fanfic

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l-r-christian · 3 years ago

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Title: 'The noble stag's daughter; A Halloween romance'

First Meeting - Thunder Monster - First Crush - First Family Ball - First Heartbreak - First Christmas - A Day With Grandfather

Warnings: Fluff just all of the fluff, Cute Mikaelson moments

It was the first of October as Rebekah smiled dressing Y/N who was smiling up at her aunt kicking her feet as she sat on a chair while Rebekah placed a hat on her head then place the girl down watching the eight year old skip out giggling. Rebekah had placed green tights and a pumpkin dress on the girl as her aunt was going to make sure the girl was going to have the best Halloween since they couldn't give her one the las few years.

"Well well look at this Nik. A cute little pumpkin." Kol said picking up the girl who squealed happily as Klaus smiled and Rebekah walked out smirking.

"I have out done myself. Got a costume for each day up until Halloween."

"I see, going to take her trick-or-treating also?" Kol asked placing Y/N down with a smile seeing Klaus crouched down holding his hands out to the girl smiling soft as she grabbed them.

"That we are."

"Is that my baby pumpkin?" Elijah cooed crouched down as Y/N saw her father and pure joy came over her face running up to Elijah. Y/N placed kisses on his face as Elijah grabbed her little hands kissing them then scooped his daughter up into his arms smiling feeling her cuddle up to him and Elijah fixed her little hat.

"Adorable Rebekah. You have out done yourself."

"Thank you Elijah. Be ready because I have more."

Four days into October and Rebekah had dressed Y/N as a little bat and was running down stairs stopping smiling seeing Elijah with Gia. Both were talking about something as the girl just wanted to see her father happy since Elijah had been only focused on his daughter. So when Y/N saw Elijah getting closer to the younger vampire, the girl began to push them together.

"What are you doing small one?" Mikael asked getting down behind Y/N since saving the girl a month ago. Mikael had been wrapped around his grand daughter's finger unable to say no to the girl, doing whatever she asked of the vampire. Much like her uncles and father, Mikael was willing to slaughter anyone to protect the girl.

"Watching daddy with Gia. See daddy likes Gia and she likes him back so I been trying to get them together.....Daddy deserve to be happy."

"I see. And why are you a bat?"

"Aunt Beka picked out my costumes all the way up to til Halloween." Y/N chirped looking up at her grandfather smiling brightly as Mikael nodded taking in the information.

"Why hasn't your father act on his feelings?"

"Busy, also the scary suit people papa."

"I see then I shall help you on this little endeavor." Mikael said smiling as Y/N brighten up as operation make Elijah happy went into affect to which Mikael got to see just how much of a Mikaelson Y/N was. Elijah smiled seeing Mikael with Y/N believing he was drawing with the girl unaware his daughter was working with his father to get him a girlfriend.

"Okay! We find out what Gia likes then hint it at daddy." Y/N said showing Mikael as Rebekah raised an eyebrow seeing Mikael nodding listening intently to the young Mikaelson.

"What are you plotting Y/N?"

"Getting daddy and Gia together. Papa is help." Y/N tells Rebekah who smirked sitting joining in. A week away from Halloween with Y/N dressed as Wednesday Addams of the Mikaelson Halloween ball as a Halloween block party was passing out candy to the children. Elijah stood watching Mikael hold Y/N up away from boys her own age and it was amusing to Elijah when he spotted Gia making his breathing hitch.

"I hope you don't mind but Y/N want to match costumes so we took Gia to get a Morticia Addams dress. By the way Gia is amazing with Y/N." Rebekah says watching Y/N run to Gia who pick the girl up with a smile as Mikael was glaring at the young boys. Rebekah knew the quickest way for a woman to earn Elijah's affections was how they treated Y/N so to see Gia adore Y/N was a winner in Elijah's eyes.

"You planned this?"

"You'll be surprised to know I did not." Rebekah said as Elijah looked at her then walked over to Gia and Y/N. The vampire jumped feeling a hand on her lower back looking to see Elijah smiling softly as he kissed his daughter's head.

"Looks like you are the Morticia to our Wednesday and Gomez." Elijah teased lightly seeing the vampire flushing as Y/N smiled hugging Gia saying how pretty she was. Hours into the night Y/N sat on Mikael's forearm watching Elijah dance with Gia making the young witch excited.

"It is working!"

"What is working?" Klaus asked spotting the brightness in his niece's eyes as Mikael smirked looking at his son.

"Your niece as planned to get Elijah with young Gia."

"Oh?" Klaus said smirking deciding to join in getting Elijah with Gia also. The day of Halloween Y/N was excited dressed as a Viking warrior she rush down stairs getting Mikael's and Hayley's attention hearing her let out a battle cry waving a fake axe pretending to kill Mikael who played along. Hope squealed happy to see her cousin as Mikael played dead and Y/N looked to Hayley who was trying to not to laugh.

"Had me the princess."

"Okay please don't hurt me." Hayley says placing Hope in a wagon the girl brought with her and Hayley smiled watching Y/N take off with Hope and pretend attack Marcel. Klaus walked into the den with a raised eyebrow seeing Mikael getting up and the sounds of Kol dying dramatically.

"Do I want to know?"

"Y/N wanted to be a Viking warrior princess this year." Rebekah says carrying two bowls of candy getting ready for trick-or-treaters seeing Gia crouched down in front of Y/N with a smile.

"I take it Gia and Elijah are taking the girls?"

"Yes since Mikael had scared the neighborhood boys. And hopefully Elijah and Gia get together at the end of the night."

Elijah smiled watching Gia with his daughter and niece as they got back from trick-or-treating and Y/N had asked the vampire to help her get ready for bed. Next thing both vampires knew they were in Elijah's bed panting when a roll of thunder reached their ears. Gia flushed when Elijah placed one of his shirts on her before kissing her lightly when Y/N came running in carrying a teddy bear Gia got her.

"Daddy, thunder monster and Thor are being scary."

"I know babygirl, come here." Elijah said opening his arms to his daughter but saw her climb into Gia's arms and Elijah smiled softly wrapping his arms around both girls. Y/N smiled snuggling between them falling asleep as Elijah rubbing her back.

"You know, Y/N and my family had been plotting to get us together."

"Oh! I.....but...why?" Gia asked feeling shy as Elijah cupped her cheek rubbing it with his thumb eyes twinkling with adoration as seeing Gia holding his daughter with such care made him love her even more.

"Y/N wants me happy. The clever girl found out my feelings for you and had been pushing us together."

"Truly your daughter. Always thinking ten steps ahead to which I am glad for." Gia says softly leaning forward kissing Elijah making him smile against her lips before both fell asleep.

Morning light shined though Elijah's window as the vampire woke surprised to find Gia and Y/N curled into one another while snuggling into his warmth. Elijah smiled softly watching them both for a moment.

"Goodmorning beautiful." Elijah said softly seeing Gia wake up catching her flushing face. Y/N caught both of their attention whe she rolled over snuggling back into Gia and Elijah chuckled softly kissing his daughter's head before gently kissing Gia.

"I'll go make my favorite girls breakfast. And Gia.....do know I care for you deeply."

"I know.....I care for you deeply too." Gia says smiling knowing that she wasn't going anywhere as she adored both daughter and father too much to leave. Gia breathed deeply smiling burying her nose in Y/N's curls happily listening to the girl breath softly cuddling into the vampire.

#l.r writes #elijah mikaelson fluff #the originals imagine #mikaelson family x reader

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ruhorih4ra · 3 years ago

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So this part it's short but next one will be pretty long. I'm having fun writing but I’m still wary about my english so thank you so much for reading!( ◜‿◝ )♡

This fic contains:

Mammon getting a little bit hurt.

Satan getting slightly angry.

The same things as before hehe.

Previous part. ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ

Chapter 6 [Present]

"Tears"

"Uughh! My head..."

You woke up surrounded by fog, Devildom eternal dark wasn't helping you at all, you were freezing and feeling incredibly lost.

"Mc?"

You felt a knot in your throat, fear crawling your skin. You remained still, not even breathing. “How could he know it was me?”

"Lucifer? Where is Mc?"

“Mammon?”

Confused, you tried to stand up but pain overtook you, your leg was still bleeding, it didn't look good, nonetheless you moved, crawlig and looking for the demon until you saw him. He was dying, full of bruises and cuts.

"MAMMON! No, no, no."

You reached for him as fast as you could. You hugged him from behind, trying to rest his head on your chest.

"May the vestiges of pain that linger within the demon before me be eliminated!" The moment you cast the spell a big headache arrived, a clear sign that you were using more magic than you should but you ignored it.

"How could you?"

He was still unconscious, weakly mumbling.

"I'm sorry." You said with tired eyes. "It wasn't my fault."

"I should have killed you..."

You almost stopped the healing spell, your hands were trembling, your eyes were getting red. You hadn't cry ever since that day, when you ran away from everyone.

"I'll kill you... Where are you?"

You smiled, you deserve it, you deserve his hatred.

"Oh, so the little greedy boy is still mourning you? Hahaha!"

"I won't let you win, even if they hate me, you will fail."

"Promises, promises."

You kept healing Mammon until darkness was a little less heavy, until your hands stiffened and you couldn't feel yourself anymore.

***

You opened your eyes, apparently Mammon was giving you a piggyback ride.

"My lord, are you better?"

"Just Mammon it's fine!" He said, without looking you. "You cured me, right? I... uh thank you I suppose."

"The most tsundere boy still, I guess."

"I need to look for Reya, please, she's just a kid."

"That kid nearly kill us." He stopped. "Your leg and your foot are pretty bad."

He put you on a rock.

"Can't you do a heal spell?"

"Oh! Yes, of course." You started the spell, not without frowning. Your magic didn’t fully recharge even after those hours "I really need to look for her. I swear, you catched me but she's alone and..."

"My crows are protecting her. She'll be fine."

"Thank you, my lord."

"I'm sorry. Your leg looks... Painful."

"I hope Lord Satan has some spare mercy for me, given that I saved you, my lord... Wouldn't you protect me?"

You were merely joking, trying to make small talk.

"Of course not! You asked for everything that happened!" He told you with an apathetic voice as if he was talking with an annoying witch (you were close to being that), you wanted to tell him ‘hey! It’s me, dumbass!’

Instead, you remained silent, remembering when you were dear for him, for the brothers. Now you were mending a shattered leg, a gift from the one who had never hurt you before, not even when...

"Hey hey! I was just kidding! Lucifer wouldn't let Satan kill ya anyway! Jeez, stop crying..."

"Crying?" You felt the tears streaming down your face.

"I used to have friends. They were demons, like you, my lord. They protected me from Devildom's creatures."

He looked at you with glassy eyes, he frowned for a moment and you could see hope and doubt in his mind. He shook his head and remained silent for more than a few minutes. Fear stroke your face thinking that maybe you’d said more than you should.

"..."

"I'm sorry I got sentimental."

"I used to have a friend too, a human one."

You looked to Mammon but he wasn't looking at you.

"I thought that I had to protect them. But turned out I was the one in danger."

The healing spell wasn't done but he forced you to stand up.

"Let's go, we'll walk until my wings are better."

***

Back at the house of lamentation Leviathan was carelessly walking while gaming, he didn't notice the small voice calling his name.

"Levi!! Hey!! Levi stop playing!!"

"Uh?" Levi removed his earbuds. "Satan?"

Around the corner appeared a black cat with a pink silk thread. Looking closer Levi was able to see a mini Satan sitting on the cat's back.

"Hahaha! Look at you, you could dance with a Ruri-chan figurine!"

"Shut up! You have to help me before someone else find me."

"Eh? You mean Lucifer?" Leviathan walked towards Satan, grasping the thread in his hands.

"WAIT! DON'T BREAK THE..."

He fell silent when the thread was cut returning him back to his normal size.

"...What? Why didn't you cut it before? Lol"

"The cat... It's alive?"

"Yup, I would say so." Levi said, petting the cat.

"I'LL KILL THAT SORCERER!"

"Ehhh! W-wait Satan! I'm Leviathan!"

"What's all this fuss? Satan, it's you. I take it that you failed. Well, take that cat out of the house you can't claim a prize you didn't win." Lucifer said, before walking away.

Next part.ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ

#obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me mc #obey me satan #obey me angst #obey me gn!reader #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan

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nothing-but-dreamy · 4 years ago

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HC: s/o is dying in their arms

A/N: So..... I got this request:

"If you have the time do you think maybe you could do a headcanon with the resident evil boys reacting to their s/o dying in their arms? That angsty stuff ya know?"

And, here you go! I took Leon Kennedy and Chris Redfield. Enjoy...?

Words: 3.135

Warnings: angst, mention of blood, mention of death, raw emotions (the whole palette; gender neutral reader

Leon Kennedy:

- before Leon even can react, the infected has bitten you, digging its teeth into your flesh what caused you to cry out in pain and in surprise because you haven't noticed it behind you at all

- Leon kills the zombie or infected or whatever it was Umbrella had created this time before he runs to you

- you are already coughing blood; you press your hand on the wound but you are already spilling the blood on your bulletproof vest - ironically that you thought a bullet would kill you when you are fighting against BOWs

- you see Leon's concerned expression and that is the only thing that is really hard for you in this moment - to see him suffer; he is the last one who deserves any of this because he is too nice, too lovely, too handsome and too precious

- because deep down inside of you, you know that it is over; this is the end of your journey; the BOW didn't just take a little bite to taste you - no, it took the whole buffet and a refill on top

- you already feel the virus spreading through your veins, nagging on the healthy blood cells to change them into something nasty, at least you imagine it to be like this; it is just a question of time what happens first: that you become one of these undead monsters on your own OR that you die of immense blood loss - internally, you hope for the second option because the last thing that should ever happen is that Leon sees himself forced to kill you

- Leon kneels next to you; he doesn't even care if he is already covered in your blood, the only thing he is trying is saving your life

- he tries to give you the anti-virus but you stop him what makes Leon even more furious, a state you barely have witnessed before from this skilled, composed but also cheeky agent who always has some funny words on his lips to make you smile

"Could you please keep still so I can help you?"

"Leon, n-no... just ... don't.", you breathe, stopping his hand while you get shook by new waves of coughing.

"YN, we don't have much time. So, please, be smart and listen to me just this one time.", Leon says composed but you already see the tears glittering in the corners of his eyes - these beautiful, bright eyes you will miss the most because they held the promise of your shared future in them.

"It... it would be just a- a waste..", you choke out, taking the anti-virus to throw it out of reach for Leon who stares at you in shock, "The blood lo-lo... the loss is faster than the virus. At.... at least, I- I'm not turning into ... into...", your voice breaks as you become short of breath.

- Leon already sits on the ground, ignoring whatever happens around him; it doesn't matter at all; he just sits down, pulling you onto his lap while enclosing you with his arms as strong as he can to pull you close to his chest, the place where you have been preferably when you two were together, spending quality time in bed together

- this time, it is the same; your hands already find their way to his chest so you can feel his heartbeat while you try to breathe and live a little bit longer; you fight till your last breath just to look into Leon's handsome face, framed by these always so soft fringes; that is the last wish you have to whatever entity that might be out there - that Leon's face would be the image that will burn into your mind that it will persist till you reach the afterlife

- Leon tries to stay strong for you but it is not working; the tears are already running free as he realizes that you are right; no help would be fast enough to save you; so, this is the last opportunity he has to say things; things he always had on his mind when he saw you, when he was with you but he never found the right moment to say them; Leon was sure he would have all the time in the world to show you what you meant to him if he wasn't able to tell you that - now, he had to realize that he was wrong

"Leon... p-please, look at me...", you plead softly, seeing his eyes is something you cling to as if they are the lighthouses which would guide you back into life.

Leon smiles weakly at you and strokes bloody strands out of your face, "Don't worry, you have my whole attention like always. I always had eyes just for you, sweetheart.", he whispers.

"Oh, n-no... y-you won't start now with the-these cheesy nicknames.", you choke out, accompanied with some more blood.

Leon chuckles softly about the fact that you are still the same, talking back like always, "Fight me. When you decide to leave me, I can decide to call you 'sweetheart' as much as I want.", he says and shows you your favorite smirk even through tears.

You chuckle, "Yeah, blame me for that, Kennedy.", you whisper.

Leon leans closer to you as he notices that you become weaker, even the grip of your hands becomes less, "There are so many things I always wanted to tell you and now, you... you-", but his voice breaks because no matter how tough he wants to be it is you he is losing right now. You are his partner as an agent and in life, working side by side and living even closer.

With your last strength, you raise your hand to cup Leon's cheek, "Then tell... tell me the most imp-important thing...", you say slowly to get the words out as clearly as possible.

Leon leans against your weak touch, already feeling how your skin becomes colder. You also start to shiver and he brings you even closer to keep you warm with the body heat you were always searching for, "The most important thing? That I love you, YN. I lost my heart on you the moment I met you no matter how frustrating you were with your trouble-making attitude. As we started to date, I was the happiest man on this planet and this never changed. You just make me so damn happy. I should have told you that so much earlier.", he whispers.

You smile weakly at him, "Better now th... th-then never...", you whisper. Actually, you want to say more but you can't.

Leon, who sees it, leans down, raising your chin with his forefinger softly lying underneath it so he can reach your lips for a longing, loving and caring kiss. He feels you responding to his lips. You kiss him back. He continues to kiss you with more force, with more emotions until he notices that there is no reaction from you anymore.

- Leon squeezes his eyes shut, leaving your lips slowly and resting his forehead against yours while countless hot tears are running down his cheeks; he covers you with his tears, a veil of undying love Leon carries for you

- he's clinging desperately on your lifeless body in his arms; his fingers are digging into your skin in hope to jolt you back into life but nothing happens

- he even sobs ugly and muffles the sound as he buries his face into your hair to take a deep breath of your scent for the very last time

- he just sits like this for no matter how long, embracing you, until medics come to bring you away - or at least, they try because Leon won't let go of you; only as another agent comes to remind Leon of the rules and the protocols they have to follow, Leon gives in and let go of you but just very reluctantly

- in the end, Leon Kennedy stands there, covered from head to toe in your blood with dark gleaming eyes and a grim expression on his face with the strong determination to destroy Umbrella and everything else which fault it was that he had lost the love of his life forever

Chris Redfield:

- as Chris hears the shot, it isn't just the sound of a bullet leaving a gun;

- it is the sound that will burn itself forever into his mind, into his memories and into his heart because the moment he hears it accompanied by your muffled scream, a big part of his life will change within one second

- Chris turns around and sees you slowly slumping down on your knees before you fall to the ground, lying on your side and gasping for air

- the Umbrella subject the team was chasing is already on the run with the gun still in his hand; two members of Chris' team are running after him, catching and arrest him

- but Chris doesn't care for the mission any longer as he sees you nearly unconscious lying on the ground, a puddle of blood already forming underneath you; seeping from the nasty gunshot wound in your body

- with long strides, Chris is next to you in just a few seconds; he throws his rifle aside; undressing the protected jacket he is wearing to press it onto your wound to stop the bleeding but he already has noticed that your aorta got hit; blood is already everywhere and still pouring out of you very quickly

"YN! Open your eyes! Now! That's an order!", Chris says serious and slaps softly on your cheek to wake you up.

Very slowly because you already feel weak, you open your eyes just to see his worried expression, "That didn't go as planned, right?", you choke out with a strained voice.

- The other members of the team are in some distance just watching helplessly the scene; the medic feels frustrated and angry because there is nothing he could do to help you; he already had seen that you will die within the next few minutes and in the way Chris treats you in front of everyone, the medic knows that Chris is aware of your death as well

- Chris knows what such a wound means and so, he doesn't want to waste any precious moment with you; you, the one person he kept the closest to himself; it were against a bunch of rules to start something with a team member and Chris always was dutifully enough to stick to the rules until you showed up; you changed the game the second Chris had laid his eyes on you;

- you were the best explosive expert he could ask for; your personality was just as spicy as your grenades and first, Chris thought you were just toying with him but quickly, during a mission where the two of you had to save each other asses, he realized that you weren't just flirting out of fun instead, you really wanted him; Chris was sure with his assumption as you were kissing him;

- that was you and your character - cheeky, playfully, bubbly, maybe a bit too over the top but straight forward if you really wanted something; mostly when you wanted him

- all this is swirling through Chris' mind as he kneels next to you, scooting you up into his lap to have you closer; he doesn't care if someone sees the two of you; he already expected your relationship to be an open secret to the other members of his team; they all knew about the two of you and secretly, they were all shipping you two so hard; destroying any kind of rumors in the beginning to protect the two of you and that no superior would notice the tiniest bit

You look into his beautiful but concerned eyes, "Chris, I'm sorry, I fucked up.", you whisper, your voice is layered with pain and agony; you even try to move but you give up as you already feel your body becoming numb

"Shh, everything will be good again, you will see. Don't worry.", Chris whispers and strokes softly over your back. He's lying, he knows it, you know it, the others know it, but no one cares; you know he needs that to stay strong for you or otherwise he would break in front of you;

- no matter how tough Chris Redfield seems to be on the outside, you know how soft he is on the inside; you discovered this side on him very quickly because he couldn't keep up his resistance in front of you; this tough, tall and broad guy turned into a soft, passionately and cuddly teddy bear in your hands and you wouldn't want to have it differently

"Yeah, you know, Captain, there are still a few things I wanna do with you.", you say low with a soft smirk, using your favorite 'nickname' for him to produce a weak smile on Chris' lips; you always used his military rank as a teasing nickname when you two were in bed, knowing exactly that it turned him on to get called that from you in a sexy voice

"What things do you wanna do? Tell me so we can plan something for the next week. We all need a break.", Chris asks, his voice just a whisper because he can't speak louder anymore or otherwise the raw emotions would take control over him completely.

"Showing you my home town. My mother wants to meet you so desperately.", you say before you hissed with pain, "You know, I told her a few things about you."

"Oh, already? I had no idea you're so serious with me.", Chris says, his voice heavy with tears while he strokes beads of sweat out of your face.

"Obviously, I fell in love with your sexy ass and now, there's no turning back anymore for me because I just love you, Chris.", you whisper weakly, one single tear is running down your cheek because the last thing you want is to leave this incredible man forever.

- that you address him by his name is almost too much for Chris to handle because you just do it when you talk about important, serious things; he swallows thickly because your confession is everything he always wanted to hear no matter how sure he was to have you; to hear these three words coming from your lips was everything Chris was longing for and now, as they came, he would have done everything to switch these words with your life to keep you by his side a little bit longer

Chris pulls you even closer, "I know you will hate it to hear but I won our bet that you would say 'I love you' first. Gotcha.", Chris breathes, nudging your nose with his and now, he even can't stop the tears anymore from running freely down his cheek, soaking his shirt and even your combat clothes

The blood loss is already too heavy and so you claw your hand into Chris' shirt to pull him down to you because you can't move properly anymore, "I can handle losing this silly bet because I already got the jackpot of my life a long time ago.", you breathe before you connect your lips with Chris’ for the most passionately and longing but at the same time desperately kiss the two of you have ever shared.

- all the love you feel for this soldier is lying in your lips which are getting colder with each passing second. Chris' lips are hot against yours, the stubble he sports as a beard, because you like to see it on him the most, is already wet with heartbreaking tears; you try to deepen the kiss but the dizziness in your head is already too much; Chris encloses your face with his free hand, supporting your neck with his long fingers and kisses you stronger than before; your tongues are caressing each other lovingly before Chris breaks the kiss, leaning his forehead against yours

- You feel Chris' warm breath fanning over your face while his heart is racing under your weak grip of your hand. You hate to see him suffer like this, knowing that he has to live with the pain to lose you, to be alone again. You hope he finds someone else even if you already know that Chris will have a tough time while coping with your death, maybe even using your death as the cause to start a vendetta against Umbrella and everything they do.

Your vision becomes slowly blurry and the edges of your sight are already black, "Chris, promise me that you won't do reckless things...", you choke out, followed by some coughing.

"Stay by my side and I won't do anything, I promise.", Chris whispers, offering you a solution.

"I will always be by your side, Chris. I will be watching over you.", you breathe before Chris kisses you again until there is no more reaction from you.

- Chris rests his forehead against yours, clinging to your dead body and crying silently with closed eyes; his face is a mask of pure agony and despair while he grit his teeth; his veins are filling with anger and hatred for what has happened to you; he still can't believe that you are gone, that you have left him just like this, leaving him alone in this crazy, cruel world of living nightmares

- the team is speechless about the whole scene; to see these two lovers getting separated far too early hit all of them; just the medic is able to function, knowing what kind of protocols they have to follow; the medic tries to get Chris away from you but the huge Captain is not moving; so, the three others have to drag him away from you with all the power they can find

- reluctantly, Chris let go of you, standing up with shaking knees; while he tries to catch his breath, his eyes are landing on the suspect who had shot you; before someone of the others can stop him, Chris, feeling like a blank nerve, storms over to him, pushing him up against a wall, beating into the man's face what brings him down to the ground with a bleeding nose and eyebrow; Chris even wants to kick him but the team mates can hold him back, bringing him away so he can cool down somewhere else

- but Chris won't ever cool down again; he promises to himself to use your death as the fuel to keep the fire burning to fight until the last BOW and even Umbrella would have paid for what they had done to you

- You didn't want him to do something reckless but Chris wouldn't do anything reckless, he would be merciless till the moment he would see you again

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon resident evil #resident evil leon kennedy #leon kennedy headcanon #leon kennedy vendetta #leon kennedy damnation #chris redfield #resident evil chris redfield #resident evil infinite darkness #resident evil chris #angst #pure angst #male reader #female reader #gender neutral reader #gender neutral fanfic

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allandoflimbo · 4 years ago

Text

Ashens (Part 22)

Summary: She falls in love with Bucky Barnes from the moment she sees him. Bucky, still in love with a woman from his past, hates Y/N and plans to make her life miserable. To both their dismay, they are assigned together to go undercover into The Capitol for six months. There, they develop a heartbreaking friend with benefits agreement. Dystopian.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 3,600

Rating: M for Mature, E for explicit. Enemies to lovers trope, sharing a bed trope, friends with benefits trope, temporarily unrequited love, heavy and angry sex, heavy on the angst, and very strong language.

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He’s been gone all morning. You don’t know where he went and you didn’t ask before he left. Whatever it was, you weren’t too concerned, anyway. It was about time you two had some space. It helped clear your mind and helped you move on. You were moving on.

There was another reason you were thankful he had left for the morning. You could feel the chills run up the sides of your arms, goosebumps appearing where your skin was once smooth.

You eyed the closet doors curiously. It was almost eerie how quiet it was around you. You dropped your eyes for only a moment before raising them up again.

You had to do this. You were going to do this.

You finally gather the balls to do something you’ve been wanting to for some time now. It had been eating away at you like mad.

Once in front of the closet, you crouch down. You raise your left hand slowly roll the doors open, your eyes immediately dart down to the little black box on the ground. Exactly where he’d left it.

Part of you was happy that it remained untouched.

Per Steve’s orders, you had both buried any of your weaponry about a mile before reaching the wall nearly three months ago. You weren’t supposed to be bring any inside with you. It was forbidden.

It had shocked you when you and Bucky had been arguing about going after Ashen and he had pulled out a G19, angrily strapping it onto his leg to prove a point. He obviously snuck it in. At the time, you hadn’t really given it much thought. You were more shocked that he ignored his best friend’s request.

Now, it concerned you for different reasons.

You sat criss cross in front of the box, staring at it for a few more long seconds. Taking in a deep breath, you opened it. It opened with a small click.

There it was.

Matte black. Subtle but deadly.

You eyed the gun like it was a ticking bomb. You’ve never held a fire arm before, but that wasn’t necessarily why you were nervous. You were nervous to know why the hell he had it stacked away in your bedroom when you knew he didn’t even have the intention of killing anyone on this mission. He made sure to make you aware of this, many times.

You also knew it wasn’t to be used on you. There was no way.

The only other plausible reason he had it, kept you on edge.

You didn’t want your thoughts going there.

You reached slowly for the gun until you felt it lay heavy in your right hand. It was heavier than it looked. It felt deadlier than it looked.

You swallowed thickly, allowing yourself to think the worst.

Was he going to use this on himself?

You suddenly wanted it as far away from you as possible.

Your hand trembled slightly as you put it back in its place, letting your fingers linger on the ridges for just a moment.

You let out a long breath realizing.

When you had eyed the closet, you didn’t really think it through.

What were you going to do once you had it in your hands? Were you going to get the gun and hide it? Were you just curious? Was there something about it that secretly terrified you and you weren’t going to believe you really saw him hold it until you held it yourself?

You shake your head, pushing the box back into its original place. You were over exaggerating.

He probably just brought it in case you both needed it for self protection.

You looked over at your black back pack right next to it and pulled it out.

You fished inside, looking at different things you forgot you still had. You had your grey sweater, scarf, and beat up boots at the bottom. It smelled dusty.

You stuck your hand into the front pocket of the backpack, pulling out a note. It wasn’t your first time reading it, but you need the gentle reminder.

Thank you again for doing this. Thank you for helping me out and for agreeing to our plan to help Bucky be happy again. We can do this together. That plan, to me, is the most important thing right now. Thank you for doing whatever it takes to mentally convince him he deserves happiness. What you’re doing means the world to me, y/n. See you both again very soon. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.

Steve

You felt small tears in your eyes at your promise. If only he knew how it wasn’t so easy. You closed your eyes tightly together, took a deep breath, and placed the note onto your chest.

I’ll keep trying.

+ +

You didn’t understand these jobs that came with your ID. You didn’t understand most of what you were being told to do, but you did it anyway.

At the end of the day, your number one plan was to still kill Ashen. So you went through with what Bucky ordered you to do until it was time.

Your first day at the tower started off better than how you thought it would. Mr. Hyde was a old gentleman in his late 50s. He had short white hair and a nicely trimmed white beard to compliment it. He knew you were learning and that this would be your first time working up to a secretary job, so he started you off with small assistant duties like transporting paper work around the building, scheduling, and grabbing anything personal he may need here and there.

The best part was when he gave you a tour of the building, the whole reason you even were excited about it. Maybe this was why this was written into the mission.

He explained to you what each floor was but never took you past floor 15. You eyed the buttons on the elevator suspiciously.

He said that wasn’t their area and that “we didn’t need to worry about it”. You needed a special code to access those floors anyway.

You quickly made a connection. You wondered how Bucky had gotten in the other day.

The atmosphere in the elevator went cold when you stopped somewhere on the seventh floor and a man dressed in black and gold walked in. It was a fitted suit, expensive looking, and he had a cold look in his eyes. You swallowed thickly, looking away from him. You pulled your scarf tighter around your neck, trying to conceal your tattoo as much as you could.

Something about this man was off.

You heard the term Coroner a lot when you worked serving drinks. They weren’t the coroner most people knew, they were cop meets bounty hunter.

There was just something about them that left you uneasy. He stood in front of you and you felt yourself shuffle back a few inches. You looked over at Mr. Hyde and he gave you a small smile.

You smiled back.

+ +

It wasn’t until your fourth day at the building when things finally took a turn.

Bucky was going to meet you at a stairwell for floor eleven. He was going to trace Silas down once and for all. The night after the ball, Bucky was went traced them down to see where they would take the new import. According to what he overheard, there had been some complications and it wouldn’t be administered until today.

You got up from your seat, pretending you were just looking for the restroom, when you turned down the narrow hallway and went for the door that led into the stairwell.

You had three floors to climb up to meet him.

You were on the ninth floor when you turned the corner of the stairs and your heart nearly jumped up into your throat.

His face, his hair, his eyes, and his damn voice.

It all hit you at once and you turned back the direction you came from, leaning back against the steal rods. You put a hand up to your head as you felt dizzy. You could feel your heart beating away like crazy and you felt that anger you harbored down for so long.

It was him. The face from the diner and the face of the man that killed your mom and dad.

Ashen.

And he was with another woman.

“He’s our child and he’s dying!” The woman shouted. You could hear the tears in her voice.

“I know but there’s not much else I can do,” the voice. It was deep and violent. You hated it. You hated him, “He woke up this morning, cured! Without us even giving him the dose of the chemical. It’s obvious his plasma contains some kind of fending off mechanism. It took years, but he obviously survived it and no longer has it.”

You took a deep breath as you processed what you were hearing.

Had the little boy been infected with the virus, but now was doing well?

“And?” The woman insisted.

“And?” An evil laugh came from within Ashen’s chest, “We need all his blood, goddamn it! We need it distributed to our men if we want our side to stay strong once we go out there!”

“You can’t possibly still think—“

“It’s our world —“

“But we are safe here. Our son is safe here!”

“You didn’t think we’d all stay stuck in here for all eternity, did you? Hydra and Sword is to control the world, not the city. These walls kept us safe long enough and our son is well now, and we might have the cure in our hands. It’s all we need to conquer.”

You could hear sniffling.

“You can’t kill our son.” The woman begged.

“No,” he said slowly, “Not yet at least. We need trial periods.”

“Ashen, please-“

“I sacrificed everything for him!” A shriek followed by a gruntled groan came from the woman and you wondered what he was doing to her, “I cut the plan short, of us taking the capitol, because of him! I was minding my own business that night before I got the call. I took the risks, I found the refuge, I found the goods, and I called an initiative, and now look at us, we’re all safe. And our son just also happens to be the possible cure for all of this. If Hydra completing this mission requires my son’s life, so be it.”

“I won’t let you hurt him! I won’t let you pick at him with needles and knives. He is my baby boy!”

“Was, honey, was.” You could hear a loud smack, “And after him, you’re next.”

“What?”

“Now let’s get back in there and congratulate him.”

You could still feel your heart beating away inside of your ears as you heard the shuffling of their feet, followed by the closing of a door.

This was way too much information for you to process. This was too much for you. Suddenly, you cursed Bucky for making you work intel. Intel was the worst part.

You knew this information and now you had to tell him without freaking out, or worst, freaking him out.

It didn’t take much longer for a familiar face to turn the corner of the stairwell.

His blue eyes met yours over his scarf.

“What the hell are you doing here, I said eleventh —-“ his voice faltered as he watched your stricken face. His own eyes fell and he raised a hand to the back of your head and caressed it softly, “Hey, hey, it’s okay. What’s going on?”

“I—“ you whimpered out. Bucky hushed you as he leaned his forehead against yours. He closed his eyes tightly together, “I—he—“

“Breathe. Breathe. Breath for me.”

You took in a deep breath and controlled your breathing.

When you opened your eyes he was staring straight down at you.

“I saw him.” Bucky’s eyes darted over your face, knowing exactly what you were talking about. Who you were talking about, “I saw him.” You repeat again. He nods, “I can’t stay here, Bucky. Not when he’s here. He killed mom and dad, Bucky.” You whimpered into a cry.

“Hey, shhhh,” he brought his hand to your jaw and ran his thumb there gently, “shhh. I’m sorry,” he straightens his head up over yours and places a kiss on the top of your head, “I’m sorry you saw him.”

You ran your hands up his chest and softly pushed him away from you. Bucky’s face fell, along with his hands at his sides. You looked away from him, running the back of your sweater-clothed hand underneath your nose.

You needed to create distance. You and him, whatever it was, was no more.

“I overheard them.”

“Them?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair.

“Yes, them. Him and what I can only imagine is maybe his wife? I don’t know, it was another woman. The little boy’s mother.”

Bucky took a deep breath.

“Okay, and what did they say?”

“He’s going to kill him. He can potentially save us, save all of us, but instead he’s going to kill him, I—I—“ you were freaking out as your ran both hands down your face.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“The boy!” You shouted quietly, pointing to the direction where the stairs continued. “Ashen is after the boy. He’s going to kill the mom and he’s after the boy, too.”

“What? Why? Why is he after his own son?”

You took a deep breath and met Bucky’s gaze again. His jaw was tight and he looked apprehensive.

“They think the cure is in his plasma.” You say slowly and carefully, knowing how much weight the words held.

“The cure?”

“For the virus. The boy’s blood.”

Bucky let out a long breath, running a hand through his own hair now and pulling on it.

“And why does he want the child dead? Does he not want the cure?”

“No, no he does.”

“What? He wants it just for himself?” You whined as you looked away again, “Y/N, you came on this mission for this reason. It’s for you to give me the important information you have right at this moment. Tell me, why does he want the boy dead?”

“He says he wants to make enough just for Hydra and Sword,” Bucky’s face went pale, “I’m assuming it’s because he doesn’t want anyone else after that having access to it. He kills the boy, no more cure for anyone else.”

“That,” his tongue clicks, “That’s absurd. Hydra wants to recruit more bad, not kill off the remaining race. It defeats the purpose of world domination.”

“I think they have a change of plans. They said they want to control the rest of the world.”

“With a raging virus? How is that even possible?”

“I don’t know. That was all he said before I heard him choking his wife. I don’t know what they plan to do after they go out there, protected. I don’t know.”

“And in that vile? What was in the vile?”

“I don’t know, a trial drug. But nothing as good as the boy’s blood.”

Bucky lets out a long breath as he walks back and forth, clearly stressed and overwhelmed. You watched him, intrigued. You’ve never seen him worry like this before.

“Shit, shit, shit.” he mumbles under his breath, “What do we do? What do we do.”

You stare down at his feet as they continue to move across the floor.

“I think it’s obvious what we need to do.”

“What?”

“We need to take him.” You say seriously, looking Bucky dead in the eye.

“We need to take him.” He says back.

“We can’t let Hydra have access to the cure and let the rest of the world burn and we can’t get him get killed.” You place a hand on Bucky’s arm to stop him and he looks up at you. You could practically see the emotions in his eyes, “He’s just a little boy.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t just go in there and take the kid. I can’t just kidnap someone’s child.”

“Why not?” You ask simply.

Bucky lets out a scoff.

“What?”

“Bucky look at the stakes here. He wants him killed, he’ll build an army to dictate the rest of the world. Bucky we have no other option. This is the end of the world. There is no time for common courtesy.”

“Okay. Okay, just relax. We need to plan this through, okay? So far us two and his parents are the only ones who know about him right?”

“I mean his doctor probably knows too and also the scientist he’s working with. The man who probably sent in those viles.”

“Those viles can be good too, right? We need to take those, too. At least a few. There has to be a reason they brought them in. Maybe they aren’t timely useless. Trial drug or not.”

“So we take the boy, now—”

“We can’t, y/n.” Bucky says strictly. You don’t expect his hand to cup your cheek again. It takes your breath away. Why was he behaving this way? “He said he’ll wait anyway. They probably need to run tests first. We still have two and a half months left in here. If we take him now, they’ll notice he’s gone, and Hydra’s already suspecting there’s intruders inside the wall. It’s too risky. We need to wait,” he runs his hand over your chin and tilts his head slowly to the side. A pained look is in his eyes, “I know you want to, and I want to, too, but we need to do this carefully.”

“So what do you suggest?” Your voice comes out rough.

“I don’t know, maybe we can keep an eye on him or something.” He says. “His father works here, maybe you’ll see him around. Warm up to him. Make sure he’s safe.”

“Ashen knows what I look like.”

Bucky nods.

“I know that. Maybe there’s something we can do. Maybe I can find where he stays in the building. I’ll figure something out. And you’ll be safe, I promise. He won’t see you.”

You believe Bucky’s words and you nod.

“Okay.”

“What do you think? Should we risk him seeing me?” He says with a small smile on his face.

You look at him incredulously.

“Are you dumb?”

“What?” He asks like it’s nothing.

“You’re Captain America’s best fiend. If you really think he wouldn’t recognize you right away and run and tell his dad, you’re insane.”

___

It had been a successful day. It was exhausting and you and Bucky were both clearly burnt out, emotionally and mentally. A lot happened for both of you. You both took a shower, individually of course, you had dinner and you finally got him to watch the first half of Titanic. It was a long night.

But it wasn’t the end of the day yet.

You sat on the bed crisscross and in your PJs, looking out into the city, deep in thought.

Bucky moves over to you and across the bed and you close your eyes tightly together, feeling the bed dip down. You can feel him as he puts his hand on your shoulder.

“We’ll save him, okay? Imagine how much Steve will love us when you come back not only with a life saved, but with the cure.” His words are gentle and sweet, but hold so much weight over you.

You couldn’t do this. You made that promise a few days ago.

“Look, Bucky I don’t think we should do this anymore. Our agreement.” You say quietly, your voice breaking off at the end.

He went still and you felt a cold rush where he began to remove his hand from your skin.

“Oh, I didn’t realize that—“

“Bucky—“

“I didn’t know you weren’t in the mood. I’m sorry.”

“No,” you say quietly and so heartbreakingly slow that you know he can feel it too. Why did it feel this way? “It’s not that.” You slowly turn around to face him. He’s got both arms stretched down on the bed below him, palms down, and he’s staring at you like he was afraid you would hurt him again like you did the other night. You looked away from him and pushed yourself away to give you both more room to breathe

“Sweetheart—“

“I’ve decided to go out with Pietro again,” You watch as his eyes drop from your own to the spot just next to your arm. He swallows hard and there’s a flicker of something in his eyes that isn’t necessarily jealously, “We want to see where it goes. I know we’ll only be here a little while longer, but who knows the future, right? What if I see him again?”

Bucky swallows again and clears his throat.

“It wouldn’t feel right doing that to him.”

“Oh.”

“So, uh,” he straightens himself out until he’s standing, and he pulls his shirt down in a sort of fidgety way you almost find adorable if it weren’t for the heartbroken look in his eyes, “you’re gonna date?”

You tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, feeling a tightness in your chest that you couldn’t bare.

Why did it feel like this?

“Yeah. I deserve someone that will take care of me like that, don’t you think?”

Bucky’s eyes are unreadable at that point. This was what he wanted, right? For you to move on and meet someone better for you?

“You’ll find a guy your age, you don’t want an old thing like me, anyway.”

“You do.” It hurt him to say it. It fucking destroyed him in the goddamn core.

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