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amostnobleyandere · 1 year

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Yandere! Noble! Scaramouche x GN! Reader (Arranged Marriage)

A/N: hey look first post!!!! this blog is basically just a place to dump my thoughts on yanderes and situations w them// if you’re not comfortable w that, please leave!!! this is not the place for you

GN reader but!!! the word “bride” is used once so do w that what you will .

remember, this is a mature blog !!! don’t like don’t read!!!!!!!!

warning(s): male! yandere, toxic relationships, slightly narcissistic yandere, verbal abuse, child neglect, arranged marriage, toxic behavior, bad parenting skills, loneliness, obsession, yandere scaramouche, scaramouche is his own warningetc. etc.

Synopsis: there’s this specific scenario ive been thinking of lately : an enemies to lovers, but with a yandere that is particularly bitter and hasn’t really experienced an unconditional love before but then his initial hatred of you turns into an obsession. I thought scara was perfect for it :)

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neither of you had wanted to get married; you, the child of the last bloodline of a falling noble family, and scaramouche, heir to one of the wealthiest and most prestigious names in the empire, would have never been pushed to marry under normal circumstances. it could only be assumed that fate had revealed its hand and placed its destiny upon you.

you had never even met the young man that society had branded as ruthlessly curt with a lash-like tongue. you had never expected to, considering how far apart you were, in different circles and in different worlds

he was the duchess’ nephew and only heir, and was untouchable in both stature and power. in contrast, your family name was declining rapidly. you knew why your mother and father had accepted the marriage proposal the day it came, and you knew why they decide not to tell you until the letter in reply had already been sent. you had no say in the matter

how you parents arranged a marriage between the two of you? well, you could certainly guess; noble ladies gossiped and gasped about the young man who was rich with a handsome face, but with an incredibly arrogant personality and a razor tongue that both reflected his wit and endless scorn. you thought that the rumors must have been over exaggerated, as they always were, but for the duchess to have to reach out to your family to find a spouse for her son? had all the other contestants being rejected, and now they were picking through the scraps that were left? or perhaps, had they rejected him?

now, you weren’t so sure

even then, some part of you had never thought they would agree to something like this; they had concluded that this was what was best for you, had even told you that you will live a much happier life if you were in a household that wasn’t always on the edge of crumbling and giving way to time; you could see that they did have the best of intentions. and still, you felt betrayed

unbeknownst to you, at the time, your fiancé had felt the same way toward his mother; the expression of his feelings on the matter, however, included a lot more yelling and rage in his questions as to why he was being dragged into this. he was used to being disappointed, but being so blatantly used?

unfortunately, scaramouche’s defiance was only met with a cold silence and a blank stare, and after he had vehemently denied to go along with the marriage, his mother had only said that nothing could be done. he had no choice in the matter.

and the gentle glint in her eyes, that had still remained their after all these years, that stayed as she firmly reprimanded him, only served to make him more furious.

and so, his resentment for you, the other victim in this situation, came naturally.

when he met you for the first time, his regularly crass and sarcastic attitude only got worse. you could see the embarrassment dawn on both your parents’ and his mother’s faces, cringing every time his voice got a little too loud or when he said something particularly blunt. he made snide comments on your upbringing, your title, even your clothing wasn’t spared the ruthless bite of his words. between his curt and cold attitude and your futile attempts at making conversation, you two didn’t exactly hit it off when you first met

and then, when you finally got sick of it and told him what exactly you thought of his words and his money and where he could shove them, his resentment turned into something much more personal: spite.

he reasoned that he had every right to hate you. to be overly rude and childish whenever you so much as got the idea to be five feet near him. he never asked for the marriage. he doesn’t care about how much it would benefit the two of you, and he’s long past trying to finally please his mother into loving him, so why should he have to act like the perfect husband for someone who is below him?

your parents seemed to love you plenty though. if their guilty eyes and shifty glances were anything to go by. even if they were shamelessly grabbing at the wealth and prestige of another family, he could tell that this marriage was meant for you and your future. even if you didn’t want it. even if you seemed to dread it. every time they brought you over for a scheduled date in the lonely garden at the back of the duchess’s estate, there seemed to be a subtle pain in their eyes.

perhaps, a paternal regret at having to make their child miserable so that they could eventually have the things they weren’t able to give them.

…well, it gave him more reason to torment you.

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there seemed to be no way out of the awkward meetings. your parents were hell bent on having scaramouche as your husband, and his mother was just as determined. so, when you did have to suffer through seeing each other, you kept trading thinly veiled insults, practically sulking every time you heard the others name, and bickering with the each other at every opportunity. it became a familiar routine for the two of you, to not get along and verbalize your frustrations through jabs and taunts

strangely enough, scaramouche grew fond of the bickering. you were practically the only person who would speak to him so casually. with so little respect and without fear of him blowing up. he thought it was refreshing. no one hardly ever talked to him anymore, and even a child that had everything and more could not curb his own loneliness by himself…he would never tell you that, though.

he thought that at least it was entertaining to tease you. actually, if you weren’t so annoying, he might have actually gone as far to say it’s pleasant having you in his company. It certainly beats the large, lonely house he had to wander every day.

plus, when was the last time he had talked this much? when someone had looked at him and acknowledged his existence without him having to work for it?

————————��

as the engagement progressed, you two ended up spending hours together every week, whether you wanted to or not, and while you were mentally and emotionally exhausted from the stress your parents were putting you through, he’s looking forward to your meetings like they’re the highlight of his week…it’s ridiculous, he thinks, and he thinks, and he thinks, and oh god now he can’t get you out of his head.

then suddenly, you’re calling it off. the whole engagement. miraculously, you guilted your parents into going back on what they had agreed to.

his mother is appalled and frustrated, a bit exasperated now that she has to find another suitable bride for her son.

scaramouche is beyond furious.

he goes quiet with rage. he’s more snappish now, towards the maids, towards everyone. his attitude is no longer his usual arrogance and crudeness. his usual bitterness rose into an explosive temper and ruthless training just to keep himself confined to a state of sanity. there is, once again, for the first time in many, many years, an unmistakable fear of abandonment that is raging in his head. he feels so wronged.

and it’s your fault.

and then, he goes silent. if they thought it was bad when he talked, see what they think when he’s quiet.

for his mother, it’s unnerving. to the servants, it’s downright terrifying.

no one realizes that he’s calculating. no one really expects it. everyone assumed this was one big temper tantrum after suffering a huge blow to his pride.

scaramouche was really only clutching his shattered heart after giving it to someone who threw it away.

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what he wants at first is revenge.

that’s what he wants to think he wants. he wants to make things even between the two of you; make you suffer like you made him. force his way into your mind in the worst way possible, and keep himself there to get the message across.

for the first few agonizing days after the annulment, he thinks; maybe that he should tamper with your parents businesses and make you a pauper, someone who is reduced to having to take care of their parents after you fall from the graces of society. and then, after that, he’s hoping you’d come crawling back to him, and ask for his help and his hand. and he’d oh-so graciously accept you back into his life; not before making you beg for it, though.

then again, perhaps toying with whatever lover you have would be a good way to get back at you. he just assumes that you have one, because you must, for you to just abandon him like that.

you should have just stayed.

either way, he’s going to make you regret it.

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it doesn’t take much for scaramouche to convince his mother to have a much needed talk with your parents.

and despite everything she’s done, ei does want to make her son happy. she wasn’t blind after all; he’s always seemed to be on edge, ever since the accident, but he had changed in the short amount of time he had know you. the boy she had failed to raise and care for, someone who was now so far out of her reach, seemed to be more calm and content when you were by his side. it had been a long time since she had seen her nephew look forward to something this much.

whether you want the engagement or not matters less to her.

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and so, your resistance all comes apart so easily. Ei is one of the most powerful people in the empire, so it doesn’t take much effort before she’s luring your parents into throwing you back to them and into scaramouche’s waiting arms. It would be the least she could do as his mother

it’s only a matter of time before you’re resting in the palm of his hand once again; the engagement is back on, running smoothly towards your fast approaching wedding, like your little rebellious mishap never even happened

scaramouche is reveling in it. he feels as though he’s won. and in truth, he has. he imagines the look on your face, how you’ll have to greet him eventually, look him in the eyes after tossing him to the side and then losing, and thinks about how he’s going to make your reunion as painful as possible when you do meet again

his wishes are fulfilled when not even a month later are you pushed into the expansive garden by servants and abandoned by them even quicker, watching them scurry away with pale but oddly relieved faces. once again, you were meant to suffer through another lunch date after you thought you had finally escaped and left the gloomy estate behind forever.

the familiar stone pathway and expansive flora only served to bring back bad memories of your failed attempt to gain your freedom and reminded you of what you would have to look forward to for the rest of your life. it’s only the scuffle of boots against the ground that brought you back to reality.

you knew exactly who was standing behind you.

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when scaramouche saw you standing there, muscles taught and shoulders tensed as you refused to look at him, he took his time observing you, savoring the moment and committing it to memory.

his slow and deliberate footsteps did little to calm your fraying nerves. You were both surrounded by tall hedges and the gentle sound of water coming from nearby fountains. no one else was around. You were completely isolated, with only your fiancé- no, your crazed future husband- keeping you company.

and as always, his presence was suffocating.

“you know, trying to run away from me was cute, but it got annoying after the joke was over. did you really think you could go against a duchy? don’t make me laugh.” his voice had a high and condescending lit to it that seemed to grate against your ears. your stony facade crumbled soon after, instantly revealing the confusion and panic that welled in your chest.

“…why did you do it?” your voice came out hoarse and low. you whirled around, finally looking into those violet eyes. scaramouche felt a shiver of excitement run up his spine as your watery gaze met his.

“you hated this engagement just as much as I did. why did you drag me back here? we both could’ve been free.” a bitter laugh escaped your throat that pathetically choked off into a sob.

he laughed lowly as his head titled down, shielding his eyes from you. the sight made you shudder involuntarily.

“‘drag you back?’ deary, you belong to me. you did the moment I decided I wanted you. what you want doesn’t matter anymore. You don’t know what’s good for yourself, clearly.”

when he lifted his head back up to meet your eyes, he was smiling. the soft turn of his lips wasn’t full of cruelty or malice, scorn or hatred, and somehow that made the uncharacteristically gentle look so, so much worse.

scaramouche picked up your limp hand, gently turning it over, and slipped a ring onto it. it was like putting a heavy shackle on a caged bird; it was needless and unnecessary, you were already trapped. the world did not need anything else but the duchess’s final word to let everyone know who you belonged to.

but, as you stood there staring blankly ahead, you noticed scaramouche seemed genuinely happy to see the band resting on your finger.

the smile he wore turned more playful, more mocking, as those piercing eyes looked at you as if you were pitiful and small, beneath him, something that needed guidance

and his purple eyes locked with yours as he slowly pulled you to him and brought you into a soft kiss.

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“Give me your love. Give me your validation. Hand yourself over to me, body, mind, and soul.”

“And what if I don’t want to?”

“Darling, do you think you have a choice?”

#scaramouche #yandere x reader #yandere scaramouche #yandere genshin #yandere #yandere genshin impact #romantic yandere #male yandere #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #yandere wanderer x reader #yander wanderer #genshin impact #genshin

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loveandmurders · 3 months

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You belong to Ambrose IV (Poly!Sinclairs x f!reader)

Alright, I was supposed to post this a lot sooner but life got in the way. It's finally here, and I hope you'll enjoy it like you did with the other parts.

This is the final chapter of the "You belong to Ambrose" series that you can find in my House of Wax masterlist.

This is the direct continuation of last chapter, that you can find here.

Warinings: no proofreading, mentions of murders, violence, sexual desire, very morally grey reader, angst/kinda comfort

A part of you wanted to let the Sinclairs win you over. But another part of you wanted to believe you were a good person. And a good person couldn’t love murders, especially not the murders of their own friends.

You wanted to get away from their touch, but the twins were too touch and love starved to let you get away from their hands that easily. They were both trying very hard to stay calm, because they didn’t want to scare you off. But truth to be told, they had no idea how long they would be able to keep it together if the love of their lives kept pushing them away.

The front door opened and Jonesy left the three of you to run greeting Lester. You were thankful for this distraction, especially when Lester called his brothers’ names, surprised to not find them in the living room or in the kitchen. He knew they couldn’t be sleeping, not when things weren’t fixed with you.

“Comin’” Bo replied.

The twins got up and they helped you doing so as well. You clearly couldn’t go back hiding in your room now. They gently guided you downstairs and Bo settled in the kitchen to fix something for you. You greeted Lester without showing any expression on your face. You weren’t too sure what to do. Lester shyly smiled at you and moved a hand behind his neck, as his eyes drank in the sight of you.

“Hey, Y/N. Ya lookin’ real beautiful, ya know. I thought so the second I saw ya. Ya’ve always been pretty, but now, ya’re just as perfect as a goddess.” Lester said. He had always been the one showering you with nonstop compliments.

“Thanks Lester.'' you simply said, as you didn’t want to seem to enjoy the sweet words coming your way.

You sat at the kitchen table with Vincent and Lester.

“And it’s really nice to have ya back home, because your absence was all drivin’ us quite crazy. It was hell actually” Lester softly babbled again, because he couldn’t help when he was around you.

“You all seem to have done pretty well without me” you tried but the three men exchanged looks. They really hadn’t.

“We’re talkin’ ‘bout ya all the time, ya know. I think ya’re our favourite subject of conversation; the only one we can have without arguin’. We always agree we want and need ya back home” he admitted which made the twins groan but they didn’t stop Lester from talking. It was good that one of them was that straight forward about their feelings for you. Vincent even hoped it would help relax you around them.

“Ah yes?” you couldn’t stop yourself from being a little bit curious, and flattered about it. “Don’t see what you can talk about though” you hummed with a shrug. But Lester quickly shook his head

“Ya’re the girl of our life, so of course we’ve got a lot to say ‘bout ya” he brightly smiled and you looked away, feeling yourself blushing.

“Didn’t know Bo rubbed on you and you became a sweet talker yourself” you replied to hide your emotions. Vincent snorted in amusement, Bo arched an eyebrow at you and Lester blushed as well.

“Just speakin’ the truth” he defended himself and you hummed. “We never stopped bein’ in love with ya. Never stopped thinkin’ ‘bout ya.”

You all stayed silent after that, but it wasn’t as tense as before.

You thanked Bo for the food and ate, lost in your own thoughts. You could feel the boys watching you, but you were used to it. You had always been the centre of their attention. And you used to enjoy this very much. You could really pretend that nothing happened, that you never left Ambrose. You knew the three men around you would like that very much. Especially when for the moment, they had to keep their hands to themselves.

They all wondered what you were thinking about but they didn’t want to upset you even more than they already did, not when your relationship was on a thin line like that.

The more you thought about the situation, the clearer you realised you were mad at them because they killed your people. Your friends deserved a happier and softer ending. You were quite heartbroken still. And you knew it was your fault too.

It was your fault because your fate has always been to get back to Ambrose and you should have come on your own. Destiny wanted your road trip to end in the Sinclairs’ arms, and it was certain the brothers wouldn't leave anyone around you. They were jealous and possessive beasts. You hated how conflicted your emotions were: you were mad at the brothers and at yourself, but you were also very relieved to be there. You were home. You were where you belong. You would forget about your friends soon enough, once the guilt would wear off, like it always did. You weren’t such a good person, and you knew it.

And yet, you were the brothers’ angel, perfection, goddess.

You kept thinking and you realised your mother was a “problem” in the not so planned Sinclairs’ objective of having you back. They could kill your friends, but they couldn’t kill your mother so easily. And she would notice your absence, and she might call the cops and tell them about Ambrose if you went missing for too long. And your dead friends… You couldn’t believe how impulsive the brothers had been. You weren’t too surprised though; they couldn’t think straight around you.

“You really are idiots, sometimes” you whispered but they heard you. They were relieved to hear you talk to them.

“Why that?” Bo asked

“You killed everyone but… what’s the plan for my mother?” you said and the boys exchanged a look.

They had talked quite a bit about it earlier that day and they didn’t know what to do. Their priority was having you, but they were aware they would need to deal with this as well. And quickly, before they could lose everything forever.

“What do ya offer?” Bo asked and you chuckled

“Not my mess” you replied and he frowned

“Ya didn’t tell her anythin’ earlier. I know ya’re on our side” he pointed at you “Ya ain’t wantin’ to admit it but ya’re happy to be in Ambrose again. It’s why ya came so close by. Ya were just afraid we’d kill ya or hurt ya, but now ya see we only want ya back, ya want to stay” he said and you hated how close to the truth he was. You refused to acknowledge his words as you bit on your bottom lip.

“She knows about Ambrose and she knows about my road trip with my…” you sighed “She knows. She’ll worry, she already started to do so.”

“This is indeed a problem” Vincent agreed

“But ya wanna stay, right? And don't wanna anythin’ bad happenin’ to us?” Lester asked you, giving you his best puppy eyes.

You looked away and didn’t say anything at first. Of course you wanted things to be alright for once in your life.

You had often dreamed of that moment and it always ended the same: or you killed your mother or you killed yourself. You never thought it would all become true though. You had never thought you would truly be back in Ambrose with the three men you loved.

At least, you knew what to do. It was as if you had planned all of this from the start. Or maybe it was just the Devil whispering to your ear.

“I… I’ll need some time to forgive you all for what happened to my friends” you said

“And we’ll do anythin’ ya wanna” Bo hummed and you believed him

“I know. And yeah I’m happy to be back. And I never stopped loving you all either” you admitted, feeling a little bit shy about it. You didn’t look at them, but soon enough your were pulled into their embrace. Bo had been the first one to react to your words by getting up and grabbing you for a big hug. Vincent and Lester soon joined in. You relaxed into their warmth. You all felt complete once again.

“There is only one way” you whispered “We need to fake my own death. I mean like something official. My mom must believe the police found my body and that she buried it” you finally said. You leaned away to have a better look at them.

They reluctantly let you go as they thought about your words.

It would allow you to resume the only life that was meant for you, without anyone to look for you. Your mother would have never let you get back to Ambrose and now that your friends were dead, it was only making things even more complicated. If you all disappeared, it would be alright.

You knew there would be no coming back from this though. Once you would be no one, you would never be able to get back in the real world. You would be stuck in Ambrose forever, with the people you loved. You would finally be yourself again. A part of you was aware you were choosing over Hell, but love isn’t soft. Love is destructive, consuming everything and everyone until nothing is left. You were finally feeling alive again.

“The next tourists who come here, we violently kill them, we break their teeth so they can't be identify and we put them in your car. We drive far away, where you were supposed to be, and we burn everything down.” Bo quickly found a plan

“We need to be certain…”

“Don’t worry, darl’. We deal with this.” Bo assured you with a charming smile and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Shit happens and it’s not necessarily linked to Ambrose” Vincent signed, knowing you were worried the police would find the place

“My mom will accuse you right away” you replied

“I’ll make sure the cops won’t find Ambrose” Lester smiled at you

You wanted to trust them with that. You knew they were smart and resourceful. And it was about you, it was about your future together. You could trust them. They were going to protect you, they were going to keep you all theirs again, they were finally be able to be happy again too.

You finally nodded “Okay, then.”

You took your phone from your pocket and handed it to Bo. He would be able to use it if he needed to. And he would be able to destroy it too. You were handing the brothers your life, like they had given you theirs a long time ago. Bo cupped your face and softly smiled. You saw his eyes flickering between your eyes and lips.

“Nuh nuh, still mad at y’all. You have convinced me to stay, not to be your girlfriend again” you said as you moved away from his touch. Both the twins groaned at yours words, but they respected it. And they were going to do anything to get you back like before.

Once you would allow them to touch you like they used to, you knew they wouldn't stop kissing and pleasuring you for quite a while. They were hungry for you. Lester was cheeky enough to believe he would be the first one to get back in your good grace.

You all stayed silent a little longer. You were thinking you were crazy, but you were so calm about all of this. It felt right, no matter how wrong it was.

Lester brought you back to reality as he took your hand in his, his eyes bright with happiness.

“Hey, Y/N, welcome home!”

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#house of wax x reader #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x s/o #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x you #vincent sinclair x s/o #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x s/o #lester sinclair x you #lester sinclair x reader #poly!sinclairs x s/o #poly!sinclairs x you #poly!sinclairs x reader #slasher x reader #slasher x s/o #slasher x you #poly!slashers x reader #poly!slashers x you #poly!slasher x s/o

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the-s1lly-corner · 6 months

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can you make headcanons for all the tadc cast with a reckless reader?

also, have a good day :)

-daz

TADC cast x reckless! reader!

last post for this batch! ill get right back to answering stuff soon! my cinnamon roll dough is almost done with its first rise and ill have to shape them soon! also gotta make the frosting..! short post since the base of one of my thumbs is getting a lil sore idk if its because ive been typing so much these past few days or if i just slept on my hand wrong; maybe both

CAINE:

youre in luck reader! you cant really get hurt in the digital world...! well, not... traditionally.. you can definitely still feel pain, thats for sure, but i dont think your digital body has any bones to break or skin to scrape..! so hey at least you can kind of be as reckless as you want without consequence...! except, there are consequences. caine is not at all happy at your recklessness.. i mean sure yeah some of his IHAs can be more... intense, i mean zooble almost got turned into a gloink, but..! i think he tones down his adventures just so you wont throw yourself into the danger

POMNI:

tries to stop you but her words fall short as you run in yelling into whatever the threat is without a second thought. "i- wait- er..." and youre gone, leaving pomni to hurry and try to catch up with you. she probably has to drag you to safety, assuming this isnt a case where you got all glitched up by an abstracted circus member.. shes gonna have to work herself up to get you to chill out; perhaps ending in a whole emotional thing where she just. explodes? perhaps

RAGATHA:

just because you cant get hurt doesnt mean shes not going to fuss over you. if there were a need for it i think she would keep a pack of Band-Aids on her. however, because you guys cant get hurt in that way, she tries to keep you in bed when you inevitably get knocked a little too hard and need to rest it off. dont even think about trying to get up out of bed, shes going to give you this stern look that only a few percentage of people can muster.

you know the look

the stern one

scolds you too if you get caught up in something real dangerous

only really softens up if you threw yourself in danger for the sake of another person, because i think ragatha would do the same

JAX:

"bet you cant make that jump"

"bet i <> can!"

que you absolutely eating shit after you fail to make that jump, comically flipping over yourself and face planting. you probably have cartoon birds circling around your head. jax laughs at you before eventually coming over to help you up. he will not let you live this kind of stuff, down

KINGER:

he gets so so scared when youre not in his sight, i think if he knew you were willingly throwing yourself into harms way? this man would have a heart attack! like really, or he would if he still had his organs and stuff...if he could he would keep you in his pillow fort with him forever... but he cant, so he has to settle with following you around with meek attempts to try to stop you

ZOOBLE:

zooble would do similar stuff as jax, but when you actually. go to do the dangerous thing they just pull you back. "dude. i wasnt being serious"

bro has to keep you on one of those kid leashes because your first instinct someone says "bet" or "no balls" or anything in that vein, you need to prove yourself

GANGLE:

her comedy mask probably falls off from the sheer shock from how easily you just. launch yourself into things. on one hand she worries for you, but on the other hand she cant help but feel a little jealous; i mean shes just ribbon and a mask, shes not really... tough... strong.. durable... she wants to be able to run around and do the things you do but theres that fear of being immediately broken down or overpowered, you know? didnt mean to get silly there; anyways i think she would try to keep in you bed to sleep off the soreness, like ragatha

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x reader #pomni x reader #ragatha x reader #jax x reader #kinger x reader #zooble x reader #gangle x reader

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rowaelinsdaughter · 7 months

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𝕴 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖊 (𝕮𝖆𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖆𝖓 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗)

First post (well, second post. i also have the feysands wedding, but that is not what i want to write. or yes, anyway), as i was saying, first post of the account, and im SUPER EXCITED. i want to dedicate this first post to @danikamariewrites , she is the nicest person ive ever talked to, and she has helped me with this. so this is for her and for everyone who loves Cass, like me.

WARNINGS: mentions of blood and death, angst with a happy ending.

WORD COUNT: 904

In another life…

You were dying. It was the only thing he could think about. His couple. His soulmate, his entire life, was fading in front of him and there was nothing he could do about it.

The war was over. A war that had lasted 100 years, generation after generation fighting for a free country, but at what cost? How many lives had to be sacrificed to have that freedom?... and you were the last of it.

You were the greatest warrior the world had ever seen. Known throughout the world for your exploits. Ballads were sung in your honor and stories were told by the bonfire. But you were dying. And Cassian knew that he shouldn't have left you alone, he knew that he should have been by your side.

He was the one who found you with a sword stuck in your belly, he was the one who took you to the camp and now he would be the one who would see you die.

You opened your eyes and next to you was Cassian with his head bowed, you heard a murmur coming from his lips and just by the position you knew that he was praying and they could only mean two things: either you were dying or you were going to recover.

Cassian noticed your gaze and raised his head. You were dying then. They say that the eyes are the reflection of the soul and Cassian's soul was dying.

“Cassian…” a thin voice left your lips.

A tear ran down his cheek and you felt his hand caressing your cheek, but you almost didn't feel anything anymore, you were so weak that you couldn't grab his hands, feel them for the last time between yours.

You looked away and scanned the room. You see your sisters, your friends and your most faithful companions. Tears ran down everyone's cheeks, the smell of salt filled the room, and the bond between you and Cassian was fading. You looked back at Cassian, and with your last strength you made him a promise:

“Cassian… I promise you that we will meet again in another life… I promise you that I will not stop looking for you… I will travel through the sky and sea to find you… I will fight until my last breath… and if in that life I have not found you yet… I will look for you in the following…"

You closed your eyes and with your last breath you murmured: “I love you…”

And with that last I love you, Cassian burst into tears.

On a street in Velaris…

You left the store with two more daggers for your collection. Your family never understood your love for daggers, they said that daggers were not for women. And every night, you dreamed of the same thing: you were running through a green meadow, you were laughing, and it was a happy laugh. And then you heard it. A humorous laugh, full of happiness and when you turned to see his face, you woke up. And some nights you dreamed that you were fighting. Surrounded by faceless people and back to back with someone tall and muscular. And his voice... was serious, like the laughter of the dream of the meadow. And when you wanted to see your companion's face, you woke up.

You sighed, starting to walk towards the bridge, thinking about the times you tried to see his face, but it was an impossible mission.

You were halfway across the bridge when you suddenly felt a chill that ran down your entire spine. And then you heard it. That laugh. The one you had been listening to for so many centuries, night after night, dream after dream trying to see his face. Discover if his laugh was as beautiful as his face.

With your heart racing you decided to turn around... You saw it. And he was the most beautiful man you had ever seen in your life. Illyrian. You recognized him by his wings. Long hair collected in a bun that left the features of her face visible.

Cassian noticed your gaze and turned, as soon as his eyes met yours, the distant memory of a room flooded your mind and there he was. Holding your hand on your deathbed, tears flooded his cheeks, softening his face. The echo of a promise of eternal love. And the mating bond began to shine like a star in the sky.

From one moment to the next, you both started running and merged into a hug full of love and longing. Your feet touched the ground and his hands ran down your body until they reached your cheeks. His thumbs caressed your cheekbones so tenderly that you began to cry. Cassian rested his forehead against yours. His voice sounded full of love and emotion when he said:

“You're here” he kissed your forehead. “You are here, with me” he kissed your nose and cheeks. “You don't know how long I've been waiting for you, how long I've longed to feel you in my arms again.”

“Yes Cassian, I'm here” you moved closer to his mouth, and when there were only a few centimeters left between your lips. “And I won't leave again.”

After decades, centuries. After waiting entire lifetimes trying to find each other, you sealed your lips, this time promising not to separate again.

𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒆𝒅 ©𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒂𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒅𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒓. 𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚 / 𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚 𝒎𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆.

#acotar #cassian #cassian x reader #cassianmylove #fanfic #writing #acotar fanfiction #acotar fandom #acotar reader imagine #acotar reader fic #cassian x you #cassian x y/n #cassian fanfic #angst with a happy ending

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beyondmistland · 9 days

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I read through all your posts about Alysanne Targaryen as Maegor's daughter and am now in a rabbit hole. Thank you. I've been thinking about Maegor's wives and which one of Henry VIII's wives they represent. Ceryse is Cathrine of Aragon and Alys is Anne Boleyn. The others are hard to pin for me since there isn't a lot. What do you think? Would Maegor's reign have been more interesting if his marriages had more similarities to those of Henry VIII?

I think this is where we run into a number of problems regarding the way GRRM wrote Fire & Blood specifically and the way he setup Westeros more generally.

For one, the fairly homogenized nature of southron culture as well as the oversimplification of religious institutions and history means you can't quite get the same dynamism as from real life European history, with its dizzying array of languages, cultures, cuisines, fashions, etc., to mention nothing of the then-ongoing Protestant Reformation. I suppose GRRM could have had Maegor convert to the Old Gods a la Julian (II) the Apostate or the Drowned God (you just know the Ironborn are the one race on the surface of Planetos that would say King Maegor the Good with a completely straight face) or even R'hllor, which would be the best choice in terms of worldbuilding opportunities in my opinion.

Moving on, we run into a handful of problems with Maegor specifically, one of them being the length of his reign. Look, while I can't deny Maegor ruling for 6 years and 66 days is incredibly cheeky, it also isn't anywhere close to Henry VIII's 36 years as king. With so little room timeline-wise, there isn't a lot of flexibility when it comes to telling new stories and fleshing out preexisting ones and all that is before you factor in Maegor himself.

I won't hold back. For all GRRM's talk of moral ambiguity, the human heart in conflict with itself, good men who were bad kings and bad men who were good kings, etc., his Targaryen monarchs are, for the most part, numbingly one-note. Aegon I is a literal enigma, Aenys is weak, Maegor cruel, Viserys I a party animal, Aegon II and Rhaenyra mirror-images of each other in their disqualifying vices, etc. As I've written before with my post reimagining Maegor as more of a Ivan (IV) the Terrible figure there was room to make him a genuinely controversial figure of historiography but instead GRRM doubled down on sensationalism and apathy-inducing slasher porn for lack of a better word. The fact Maegor is also the first and last of Visenya's line just adds more salt to the wound but that's part of GRRM's more general (and for me personally, vexing) habit of keeping family trees incredibly small.

(I do recall another alternative someone once brought up to the late Steven Attewell. Namely, turning Maegor into the Westerosi version of Macbeth by way of Der Untergang.)

This brings me to my semifinal point. GRRM didn't have to write Fire & Blood as Procopius' Secret History on steroids with a dash of Suetonius' Lives of Twelve Caesars and I, Claudius (the entire Saera episode is practically lifted wholesale from the scandal that envelops Augustus' daughter, Julia) but he did, which is doubly disappointing because not only does the final product suck quality-wise as a result but also because there were so many other avenues available to him.

He could have written Fire & Blood as a proper history (with less focus on the sex lives of teenage girls for one) or as a mirror for princes or as a dialogue between two characters or even as a character study. You can even see GRRM struggling with the constraints imposed by his use of Gyldayn in certain sections like the death of Maelor and the entire Hour of the Wolf episode, where you get reams of dialogue and characterization as well as more traditional narrative trappings like build-up, mood setting, etc.

Now, to answer your actual question (lol), I don't think any of Henry VIII's other wives map well onto Maegor's. Tyanna is, more or less, his female counterpart in terms of cruelty and zero redeeming features and entirely a fantasy construct. Elinor and Jeyne are both married to Maegor for only a year (with poor Jeyne dying in childbirth because Jeyne Westerlings, like the Brackens, Peakes, and Florents, cannot catch a break in Westeros) and before said marriage takes place neither appears on the page. As for Rhaena, well, credit where its due, she was a rare (and unexpected) highlight of Fire & Blood.

Thanks for the question, anon

#maegor the cruel #house targaryen #asoiaf criticism #asoiaf meta #valyrianscrolls #asoiaf #asoiaf themes #maegor targaryen #fire and blood #volume 1

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so2uv · 4 months

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@ so2uv's sappy time.

end of the year. ive survived and that's scary but you know what? it'll be fine. we'll all be fine and im promising that; whether it be this year, the next, or far in the future, we'll be ok :)) it's stupid how this platform, one that my friends teased me for using, left such an impact on me as a person.

AKA. MY END OF YEAR MUTUAL APPRECIATION POST. (warning: these got long and sort emotional for me to write. well, as emotional as i can get fjkdhgkjfd. sorry if my coherence gets lost later on. forgive me if you weren't mentioned specifically for something; i have more mutuals that expected. it's genuinely surprising.)

if you weren't mentioned specifically, there's still a note for you at the bottom. sorry for making you scroll for long to find it :'DD

𖣂 ┈ ⟡ ˒ @tiredsleep . . . the mutual who has stuck through it all. oh tired. tired, tired, tired. i think im a little stupid for how happy i get when you like a post or send an ask or keyboard smash in my reblogs. a lot of what i said in my long ask to you a while back is what im trying to convey now. the way we met wasn't through much special; i followed you and eventually you followed back. it was slow going in the ways we interacted but the nicest things take time and im so glad we're the way we are now. we're strangers, two little guys on the internet, and i think it's beautiful how we have this. you're an amazing writer, an all around amazing creator of the worlds you build and the characters you create. i don't think you realized how envious i used to be of you; you made it seem like it was easy enough for you to connect with others, your writing was something id never achieve with mine, it was flat out jealousy. it was my fault we were distant to begin with. i soon figured out that praise was correct: you are among the most wonderful people ive had the pleasure of knowing and talking to you, even if it's just through a screen. there's so much more for me to say that i constantly struggle to put into the correct words to get the point across. just know that you have great things out there for you. have a great new year, tired. we'll make it. im so proud of you.

𖣂 ┈ ⟡ ˒ @aelatus . . . the last standing mutual of all my og (close) mutuals. hello atlas! im not sure if you'll ever see this on tumblr since i know you don't log on much but you've been my mutual through three blog changes now; was there for my xstar-kidx era and kozmiixs stage. we've been through shit together, had banter about grammarly together, lost certain mutuals together, have changed blogs, changed themes, switched fandoms, fell out of love with fandoms. it's been a wild couple of years, huh? im so thankful we've met and got close in the ways that we did and that we're able to call each others close. your birthday is soon so in the case that i forget to say this on discord: happy birthday, the xiao to my albedo. live a life of freedom and joy, my love /p.

𖣂 ┈ ⟡ ˒ @izukxnnie . . . hara :((( i don't think you'll ever come to read this message but that's alright; maybe it's for the better kdfgh. i know i sent you that long winded ask on your blog already but i miss talking and interacting with you, even with all my awkwardness. im still so regretful of that one time i sent a request to join your world but then you were busy and i didn't read your messages until later that day as in hours later bc i was at school and idk if i ever responded to them in the end. maybe i'll send you a message on discord later. maybe i won't bc i'll be too sentimental. i really hope you're doing more than well, that you're happy doing what you do.

𖣂 ┈ ⟡ ˒ @ay-asterisms . . . the mutual who introduced me to so many others. i really have you to thank for what i have now, ay. truly. you brought me deeper into the hq fandom and introduced me to jennie, atlas, and others. we don't talk much but i'll say what ive mentioned before, you remind me so much of the sun. but not as the bringer of life and the ball we see every morning; a sun in the sense that you're a star closer to earth but still a star, still out there where there are multiple. the difference is that you just happen to bring a warmth that others can't provide for ones nearby.

𖣂 ┈ ⟡ ˒ @cryo-locket / @lo-cinno . . . you. im not even sure how we became mutuals, and my memory is pretty good. we just spawned in each other's zones one day and went yeah, alright. honestly, ive never said this to anyone, but you were one of the reasons i decided to focus more heavily on chinese. our interactions reminded me of why i wanted to relearn the language for myself: for the social connections. i genuinely love talking to you and always find myself laughing at our conversations. mainly because our timezone dif is so odd so it's always late in the evening when im on. your ebg was so fun and with all the pain it brought / hj, im so happy to have been part of it. thank you for putting up with my 2 am rambles and crack, hope you found laugh or two with them.

𖣂 ┈ ⟡ ˒ @pr3tty-jennie . . . you intimidated me when we first met. i still remember it actually: you had that kamninari theme and the most recent post on your blog was about how you couldn't remember the word for chandelier in english but knew it in french. you've been through so much, endured so much, and i respect you so much. always have, always will. your life story and the past don't define who you show as a person and im so amazed by that part of you. have a good day, good week, good rest of your life pretty girl :DD

𖣂 ┈ ⟡ ˒ @june-again . . . it's crazy, you know? crazy how far we've both drifted off from the original fandom that brought us together? but that's character development. speaking of that, ive gotten the absolute pleasure of seeing you grow as a person and go through the motions of life. it's always chill talking to you, jokes come easy hah! you're an amazing musician, june. amazing person, amazing at writing, amazing at music; you're outstanding so in the words of Freddy fazbear from security break, way to go superstar! i knew you could do it and i know you still can.

𖣂 ┈ ⟡ ˒ @junjiie . . . the seungmin to my minho, the other half of 2min, the self proclaimed jeno to my renjun (have yet to be a dreamzen my b :(() and the no. 1 solieber. i was serious when i said you're the reason my other blog exists; you've been the biggest hype person when it came down to me going out of my comfort zone and writing. i was so nervous going up to talk to you at first kjfdhgkj but now, you're just another silly guy in my phone screen :DD thank you for sending all your updates about life and putting up with mine even though they never get answered- seungmin to not only my minho, but hyunjin too, let's keep being #Silly, yeah?? it's already the actual new years day when you're receiving this so i hope the year is off to a good start.

𖣂 ┈ ⟡ ˒ @sohyuki . . . MINT im hoarding the ask that you sent me on christmas day. im always so happy when you've shown up on dash and while im sad about how you've let tumblr mainly behind, i know it's for the better since well, interactions have been shit and probably will never get back up to the standard we held them to, even with all the effort put in. you are such an amazing all around person and like i said in my christmas note to you, keep writing. hoard it, feed into it, you have something wonderful going on with it.

𖣂 ┈ ⟡ ˒ @kamiyatos . . . user kamiyatos!!! lee!!! HELLO!!! it's always such a pleasure to talk to you and i hope you know that i keep your ramble about malleus' character and your plot idea for him in the back of my mind constantly, even though that ask has been lost to my actions of deactivation on my old blog. you're the biggest ayato fan i know who supports my works about him vocally AND you understand my vision on his personality... it's truly touching, y'know? thank you for being there, even when we don't talk as much as we should. i hope this year has been kind on you and the next one is even kinder.

𖣂 ┈ ⟡ ˒ @yinyinggie . . . yingyingyingyingerkjshkjfdg ok this may come as a shock, or maybe you already knew and were just playing along, but we used to be mutuals before the summer of last year. secret identity revealed ig?? eh im sure if you dig far enough into my dark past™️ you'll find smth about it so im not going to say anything about it :P but! one thing has stayed the same for sure: you are so easy and so fun to talk to and make conversation with. you know that ramble i left on the astro twerk form about feedback for the server? yeah. im 100% truthful. you've made something so inclusive and positive, have done to much to get tumblr active, please know that your efforts aren't wasted. im sure they feel like it at times but i appreciate it so much. and im sure others have the same sentiment.

𖣂 ┈ ⟡ ˒ @mhiieee . . . MHIEEEEEEEE MY SCARA FAN !!!! i love and adore your works so much and not to mention your characterization of scaramouche is top tier. ive got a lot to learn from you, mhie; i don't think you realize how much there is to admire when it comes to you as a person. you find such meaning and connection in the words and the world, the sincerity that comes with it,,,,, it makes me want to sob and roll around while also simultaneously wanting to take your brain apart neuron by neuron and psychoanalyze you. not in the freudian way though. ive had the greatest honor of being able to interact with you on not just one, but two!!! servers!!! i think it's a little silly how much i smile when you reply to smth dumb ive said on disc. have a great new year :))

𖣂 ┈ ⟡ ˒ @ryuryuryuyurboat . . . RYUUUUUU literally the most stunning person to walk the planet ever like. hello??? our first interactions came from that ebg funny enough. does a little ★🪽 anon ring a bell? i only ever got around to sending you one sabo during that time but i hope you did enjoy what i came up with on the spot, i never was very good when it came down to kaeya's character. you are so intelligent and such an amazing individual, please always remember that.

𖣂 ┈ ⟡ ˒ @snobwaffles / @2nobwaffles . . . SNOB SNOB SNOB i always think of the pokemon when your name comes up. in my head, you will always be snom, the bug-ice type pokemon <33 IT'S SO FUN TALKING TO YOU and we haven't been mutuals for long either. im always thinking of the advice you left me when it came down to my rant about an irls party and there's something about the way you're able to appreciate and take note and find beauty int he smallest of things that get brought up. i wish you the complete best that 2024 has to off you. keep calm and snob on :DD

𖣂 ┈ ⟡ ˒ @itaerae & @mins-fins . . . im putting the two of you together because well, i met you both at the same time through the server. while i can't consider it and, ive never really had such an inviting time in a server, much less a network, as ive had in zumblr. really, it's you two that i owe thanks to. our silly little convos are so fun and im forever thankful that ive found people to talk to on a server for once.

𖣂 ┈ ⟡ ˒ @https-furina . . . the best server mother fr!!! omg it's so nice talking to you :((( i love the warmth of your words and how your emotions shine through text. it feels like i can practically envision the fond eyeball or the warm smile that you may or may not have on your face when messaging. i’ve had such a great time in the network and your pet names fjfbdjdbjdb have a great 2024 heh :DD

𖣂 ┈ ⟡ ˒ @lethwal & @astrinityy . . . i don't think you guys realize how fun it was when we were all "debating" and accusing me of being a furry. honestly, i haven't had to stifle laughter like that in the middle of the night as hard as i did for a small while. not too long but long enough. it was a breath of fresh air and it was genuinely amazing to just be able to put the present on the back burner and play around like that. even though it was kind of late for me when that was happening- ignore that. it's always late for me when im online atp. i hope we can get past those baseless accusations you have both placed on me tehe. have a happy new years, you two. ALSO YIXIN!! GA-MING PROTECTION SQUAD RISEEEEE

𖣂 ┈ ⟡ ˒ @/zumblr . . . there's so many of you and i can't find the proper words to express the welcome i felt when added to the server. it was nerve wracking, ive never really gotten around to talking to that many people or being that open on the internet before. it's funny how one summer can bring you out of your shell a little, eh? and all bc of some guys on screen lmao. thank you for the support and im happy to have met such wonderful people. thank you, again. @urielphix I AM. DETERMINED TO READ ADAD JUST YOU WAIT

𖣂 ┈ ⟡ ˒ @ everyone else, all my mutuals as of now and past, who weren't mentioned or mutuals who want to read something again . . . hello!! im sorry to disappoint by not adding you properly and for not giving a personalized thanks; it wasn't anything against it you at all. reason 1) i probably forgot as um. goldfish brain or 2) we just became mutuals pretty recently and haven't had the chance to really talk much / have been sort of long term but haven't talked much.

either way though, thanks for sticking around! im not the most. literate person. sometimes LMAO and im far from being a proud person of skill when it comes to the right words to say to people but im always happy when people find something worth it in my silly words. i hope we get to interact more in the future, as long as you can put up with my inconsistent (to say the least) replies and brain boggling posts that come from the depths of the midnight zone, that is. get ready for the ride that is this. clusterfuck of a blog place. LMAO,,,, if you haven't already scrolled through my stuff. if you have then um ready for more??? fkdjhgkjlghf

if you've made it to the end, thank you. and why?? im not that interesting or cool as everyone makes me out to be. if you had told 2019 me on tumblr that 4 years later, id be posting my works for everyone to see and also be proud of my own poetry, i would have laughed and called you absolutely insane. some of you have sat through me going through different gender and pronoun crises on dash back in 2020, and some of you ive only met this month.

whatever our situation is, i wish all the best for everyone . i’ll support you guys until the end of the earth and then some. have the happiest of happy new years, may your futures always be brighter than you say they are, and i’ll see you later 💛

sincerely — sol / jun

#🔎. navi !#// do not perceive me im going to go curl up in a corner now #// ive never been this sentimental or thought out a personal post quite as much as this one #// vulnerability isn't my strong suit ok???#// i wish these were more put together TwT

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cowboyjen68 · 6 months

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hi jen, i just followed you and this is really random but ive seen some of your posts helping younger people and it really struck a cord and i need to just let the words fall out of me.

ive been having issues with my girlfriend she cheated on me but this situation is very complicated and we're both fucked up people but i know she still loves me and i really love her. but my anxiety and our lack of communication is really bad right now and im so worried she might not love me the same anymore

ontop of this im 18 and for the past id say 5ish years my mental health and family life has been getting worse, getting diagnosis is hard especially with mentally ill and just overall bad parents that somehow dont understand or believe. i know im deppresed and have been i have anxiety, sever paranoia maybe bpd and bipolar and autism and everything is just so much. now the one person i had is something thats making everything hurt more and i just don't know where to go, im trying to get help but its so slow in this country and i feel so lost and tired i barely eat now and when i do its ether rare or unhealthy and everything is so much i want to collapse.

i hope this isn't to much to randomly send anonymously but you just seem really kind and helpful. thank u for your reply if you do

HI and please accept my apologies for the delay on answering this. I am sorry you are going through so much. My kids are adopted from foster care and I had many kids in my home for up to 5 years who eventually went back home. That is to say I have a lot of experience with mental illness, the systems that treat them, trauma and kids who came from unstable home lives.

At the ripe old age of 18 you have plenty of time to find love and contentment but right now might not be the time. I understand there might be odd circumstances that caused your girlfriend to cheat on you. If you feel betrayed and lost trust that is a feeling that is next to impossible to overcome for people with no comorbidities let alone a teen trying to figure herself out and deal with navigating the broken mental health/care system.

It is actually quite normal for young love to change and get redefined into friendship even when the circumstance are the best. Her cheating on you might very well be a sign that your relationship is in flux and not what you thought it was. A romance that has run its course is not a failure, relationships do not have to last forever to be important and real and worth having had.

It might be scary to think of not being with her, of not having your "one" person that you can count on but I do believe you can get farther working on yourself if you put time and energy into you and not dividing it up between you and her.

There is a lot of precedent set for women to set aside their romance and intimacy in order to be just friends while one or both does some work on herself. Sometimes it is necessary to stay involved for emotional support or financial support, that is just the reality of our world. Living single can be very difficult.

Please consider letting go of the relationship in its current form and putting your energy of yourself. Letting go of the stress of trying to repair what you had with her will remove so much pressure from you and from her that you will feel much more ready to tackle your mental state.

I promise. You are not a failure, she is not "the bad guy" in this story. Take all the wonderful things you shared with her keep those with you when you want a reminder that it loving her was worth your time even if it didn't end like you planned.

Seek mental health help but starting small. A therapist can help you begin to talk through things and often she can help you find additional resources like a medical Dr, public subsidies for insurance or free clinics to assist you in getting medication and mental health support. Most counties have a social services office and those employees are a wealth of information.

#mental health #lesbian #young love #stress #health #relationships

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daimyosprincess · 11 months

Text

PART IV: ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

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

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

—SUMMARY: Your new relationship with the Mandalorian studies professor begins to take shape.

—WORD COUNT: 11.2k

—TAGS & WARNINGS: second person narration, no use of y/n, explicit sexual content, alternate universe, professor!Boba, age gap relationship between an older man and younger woman (reader is mid-twenties and Boba is late forties), alcohol consumption by reader and others, reader described as having enough hair to grab, Dom/sub power dynamics (Dom!Boba and sub!reader), BDSM elements, oral sex (male and fem receiving), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up irl), creampie, lots of pet names, praise kink, dirty talk, light degradation (discussed before, use of "slut" and "whore"), choking, hair pulling, one dude being a creep but nothing bad happens

As always, let me know if I missed anything that needs to be tagged! Mando'a translations at the end.

—AUTHOR'S NOTES: Y’all I’m not going to lie to you, this got filthy FAST and idk how this ended up at 11k but I’m not sorry ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ And, yes, I am naming these chapters after different parts of a book because I think I’m clever. We've got some new chapter warnings this go around as well, so be sure to mind those!

A big thank you to @rexxdjarin and @agirlnamejacq for betaing, and thank you my beautiful readers for your all support and feedback 💖

Read on AO3 — Series Masterlist — Taglist

Rain plinks steadily against the thick, wavy glass of the library’s windows, its hypnotic rhythm lulling you into a trance as you watch the gray sky curl and coil outside from your post at the circulation desk. In your relaxed daze, your mind slips back to your date with Boba and the morning after. You think about how you got to fall asleep in his arms, tucked into his chest that was so warm and safe you only needed the sheet on top of you, and how even in his sleep he kept a protective arm slung over your body.

The way he woke you up with kisses on your neck, whispering how happy he was to wake up with you in his bed as his tongue laved over the bite-shaped bruise he left there the night before, and how it felt when you let him kiss down your body until he was once again laying between your thighs. How his hooded brown eyes searched for permission to continue like you would ever deny him any part of you.

“Can I taste you, princess? Can I have that pretty pussy for breakfast?”

“Please, it’s all yours.”

He was in no rush to take you apart, groaning into your wet heat and sucking more bruises into the tender skin of your thighs in between licking and fucking you with his tongue until you finally begged him to push you over the edge. After he let you soak his face, he stole you away to the shower, promising you his fingers and his cock. Afterwards you had returned the favor in the steamy, warm water, not content until he spilled every last drop of his release down your throat, cursing with his fist in your hair that you were going to suck the life out of him.

“No,” you smiled deviouly, licking the last dribble of cum off his cock, “just your soul, old man.”

Flashing you a shark-like grin through the haze of his release, he reached behind you and turned the water to cold before jumping out of the shower. You might not have forgiven him as quickly as you did if he hadn’t made you the best omelet you’d ever had for breakfast.

Since neither of you had been willing to part, you spent the day sprawled across him watching reruns on TV and talking about your lives: what books you liked, your dream vacations, what the best pasta sauce is, first crushes, anything really. The conversation flowed with such ease you might have talked the whole day away if you hadn’t gotten distracted with exploring each other’s bodies. It wasn’t all sex—though there was plenty of that too—it was soft touches mapping out curves and lines to memory, lips tracing over scars and dimples, warm hands on sore muscles. In short, it was pure bliss, like coming home after a long journey.

You had been loath to leave him when the treacherous sun started to set at the end of the day; Boba even threatened to keep you forever if you weren’t careful, as if that was supposed to make you want to leave any more. How could you be expected to sleep in your own bed now that you knew the warmth of his? Go to sleep without his chest rising and falling next to you? You were falling hard, tumbling down into love’s abyss with arms open and heart willing. That should scare you, it had in the past, but how could you be afraid when it was Boba Fett you were getting lost in?

When he finally did take you back to your apartment once the sun dipped below the horizon, you almost convinced him to come inside for “just one drink” before he thought better of your ploy to keep him and sent you through your door with a smack on the ass.

“Nice try, princess. I know what you’re up to.”

“What? I’m just being a hospitable host.”

“I’m pretty sure hospitable hosts don’t try to put their hands down their guests’ pants in the doorway.”

“The good ones do, and only for guests who can fuck like you.”

He laughed with that rich, delicious rumble of his then kissed you until your head spun and your lungs cried for air. Just thinking about it now makes your chest tighten and breath catch in the back of your throat. Gods I wish I could sneak over to his office and kiss him like that again. Run my hands over his broad shoulders and strong chest, feel his heartbeat quicken when I kiss him.

With the advent of classes, you’d hardly seen him outside of the afternoons when he’d walk you to your car at the end of the day. Talking on the phone every night was great, but it couldn’t replace actually being with him, especially when you’d been able to spend almost everyday with him those last two weeks of the summer break. All this time apart served to show just how much you enjoy just being around Boba; you miss the weight of his voice, the serenity of his solid presence, his dark eyes and the bright smile he seemed to reserve for you alone. He fed a part of you that you didn’t know was starving and tended to the soft pieces of yourself that had been trodden down by the unkinder parts of life.

Oh, and he can make me come so hard I forget my own name. Repeatedly.

The sound of someone actually saying your name interrupts your daydreaming. Unhappily snatched back from the rosy past to the dreary present Thursday, you swivel towards the source of the interruption: a smirking Selena leaning against the back office door with her arms crossed, smug. “Thinking about your professor again?”

“No,” you deny rather unconvincingly, rolling out your shoulders to sit up straight with a huff. You’d been caught fair and square but that didn’t mean you're going to admit it.

Your coworker scoffs, rolling her eyes, clearly not fooled by your posturing. “Pfft that’s not what the hearts in your eyes say. I think you even have a couple floating above your head.”

Looking around the spacious room, you throw your hands up. “Does nobody in this library have any work to do besides harass me?” There’s barely a patron in sight, the large oak tables in the atrium sitting empty except for a handful of students hunched under the green bankers lamps lining them.

“On a day like today? Absolutely not.” Selena drops down on the chair next to you with a yawn and a stretch, not bothering with the guise of work at all. “Did you decide what you’re wearing to the baccalaureate reception tomorrow?”

The event in question is the big kickoff to the academic year for faculty and staff at the end of the first week of classes. Held in the space the two of you are currently seated in, the library’s ornate atrium would be cleared of all its furniture and set up for an evening of hors d’oeuvres and drinks on the university’s dime. Despite the ostentatiousness of it all, you enjoyed the reception as it let you catch up with colleagues you rarely got to see during the academic year and mingle with the new professors. You were especially looking forward to this year’s, not in the least because it provided the opportunity to see a certain Mandalorian studies professor dressed to the nines.

“I was thinking of the green velvet dress, the one with the mesh top,” you answer. The outfit in question is one of your favorites; the rich material hugging your curves in all the right ways making you feel effortlessly sexy—you can’t wait to see Boba’s reaction to it. If you're lucky, you hope, he’ll drag you off somewhere and have his way with you before the night is over. And then again when we get back to his house.

Selena squeals and claps her hands excitedly. “Eeee, the one that makes you look snatched?” she wiggles her eyebrows at you “‘Cause if it is, your man doesn’t stand a chance!”

You laugh, curling your hands inward and cocking your head dramatically. “Yes, that one. You still got those black heels I can borrow?”

“Yeah, as long as I can use that clutch you let me use the other week.”

“It’s a deal,” you grin. “Oh, and Boba said we can get ready in his office so we don’t have to go all the way home and come back.”

“Are you sure he meant ‘we,’” she gestures between the pair of you skeptically, “or just you? I’m not trying to cut my contour while you two are going at it on the couch.”

You throw a pad of yellow sticky notes sitting on the computer at her. “He meant we, and besides,” you smirk, “I’ll just suck him off before you get there so you can fix my makeup after.” You both burst into giggles after a poor attempt of stifling them, your laughter earning you a glare from a passing professor, which you ignore.

Balancing her chin on her hand, your friend considers you for a moment. Her big brown eyes are a bit lighter than Boba’s, ringed with dark lashes and expertly applied winged eyeliner. “So you really like this Boba Fett then?”

A sunny smile spreads over your face, the answer easily on your lips. “You know what? I do, I really, really do. He’s strong and kind and funny in his own way, and he makes me feel safer than I have in my whole life. He matches my energy like… like he was made just for me. I don’t think I could ever get tired of looking at him or hearing him talk. He could read the kriffing phone book to me and I would be riveted.”

“Hold on, let me write all this down so I can send it to Hallmark for their next movie,” Selena interrupts, grabbing a pen from the cup on the desk. You roll your eyes and she snickers before softening. “Really though, I’m so happy for you, girl. It’s not every day you find someone who makes you feel like that.”

Her warmth and genuineness make your heart twinge: you are truly grateful to have a friend like her. “Thank you, Sel, that means a lot.”

She leans in and rests her head on your shoulder, and you give her a squeeze. “Now,” she starts, grinning, “do you know if he has any sons around our age for me?” Dissolving into giggles once more, you decide to give up on work for the remainder of the rainy day.

You rest a hand on your hip, taking a swig from your water bottle and admiring the efforts of the last half hour’s labor: the primly decorated circulation desk showcasing all the library’s services and resources for the reception guests to peruse. The attendees would begin arriving any minute and you were eager to present all the library offers for the faculty; you genuinely enjoy your work and you’re proud of the new primary source collection you’d established over the summer. It also meant you finally got to see Boba—you hadn’t gotten to see him when you and Selena went to his office to change, his department meeting having run over.

Try as you might, you can’t help the wanton tingle that sparkles down your spine under your dress, or heat creeping into your cheeks at the racy memories of the pleasure you found on his tongue, cock, and fingers. What you wouldn’t give for a quickie right now, just a little something to take the edge off…

“Excuse me, miss, where can we put the catering carts?”

Right, I’m supposed to be working. Stuffing all the wicked thoughts swirling in your head to the back of your mind, you smile at the event server and direct him down the hall. Hearing the swell of voices from the lobby, you turn and see the first attendees filing into the atrium, dressed in cocktail dresses and suits. Your eyes search for Boba in the crowd but you’re quickly caught up doing your presentation on the library’s collections and resources.

It’s not until your last group before you hand over your representative duties to Selena for the remainder of the evening that you spot Boba leaning against the wall across from the desk, watching you with Fennec at his side. Your practiced spiel jumbles together at the wicked gleam shining in his eyes and he smirks, whispering something to the handsome woman next to him. Taking a sip of water, you recover and roll your shoulders back to stick your tits out just a little more with your chin held high at his challenge.

After the group clears out and you hand things over to your friend, you saunter over to your two favorite professors. Sticking out a hip, you trail your eyes up the oxblood colored shirt stretched across Boba’s chest, taking in the delicious way his sharp onyx suit is tailored to his thick frame. Knowing what all is hidden underneath his clothes only makes the whole ensemble even hotter. “Can I answer any questions about the library for you, professors?” you ask in a syrupy voice, your tone laced with dark sugar.

Gazing at you rather appreciatively, Fennec answers first. “Yeah, are you free later?”

Your brows raise with a suggestive arch, biting your lip and leaning into her game. “Why, what do you have in mind?” you shoot back, letting your gaze linger on her pink lips.

She’s practically purring, running her long, graceful fingers down the length of your arm. “Why don’t you come home with me and find out, kitten?”

“Mmm sorry, no can do, Fenn,” you hum, flicking your eyes over to an amused Boba, “I already made plans with the new Mandalorian studies professor after this.”

“What? That old man?” she scoffs, flicking her intricate braid over her shoulder.

Boba throws an elbow at her, grumbling, “We’re the same karking age, Shand.”

“Well, Fett, I guess some of us just wear it better then.”

“I don’t know, that’s not what she was moaning in my ear last weekend,” Boba replies, as smooth as Corellian whiskey and just as sinful. A jolt of arousal shoots between your thighs, his open possessiveness sending heat straight to your core.

That remark earns a full-bellied laugh from Fennec. “Touché.”

Another faculty member passes by and steals Fennec away, allowing you to slip into her spot next to Boba and press your arm against his. While you don’t intend to hide your more-than-professional relationship with him, you don’t want to draw judgment down on either of you. “Fenn make you a little jealous?” you tease, bumping your elbow against him.

He smirks, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Not when I know you’re coming home with me, princess.” He slips a hidden hand between you and the wall to skim his fingertips down your back to settle his palm just above the swell of your ass, making your skin light up with the sensation of him. “It’s good to see you, babygirl, I’m sorry I couldn’t make it before the reception started,” he adds in a sweet, low voice, pressing a quick kiss into your hair. “And your presentation was excellent.”

You lean into him for just a heartbeat, savoring his affection before breaking away. The heated pulse between your thighs spurs you on. “Oh, you were actually listening? Looked to me like you were peeling this dress off me in your mind.”

“I heard you're supposed to imagine everyone else naked to do public speaking.”

You smack his arm, giggling. “That’s if you’re the speaker!”

“Ah well, it was worth it anyways,” he grins at you. Seeing a group approaching, he regretfully takes his hand off your back.

A few faculty from the biology department come over and greet you, its ever-affable head, Professor Bernard, pressing a glass of champagne in your hand. “The department of biology’s honorary member needs a drink!” he proclaims with a hearty laugh before clapping a hand on Boba’s shoulder, telling him, “Come see this one here if you need anything. She’s found papers and journals I didn’t even know still existed!”

“I’ve heard she has some… special skills,” Boba answers with a quirk of his lips.

Catching the tone gilding his words, you slide your gaze over to him and see that same mischievous twinkle in his eye. Oh, so it’s going to be like that then? Hope he knows what he’s started. The conversation continues as introductions are made on both sides and stories of the first week of classes are shared.

“You didn’t get stateside until a few weeks before the semester? How on earth did you manage to get everything done, old sport?” Bernard questions.

“Oh, that would be thanks to me,” you interject, grinning at the ensuing laughter, “Lucky for Professor Fett here, I was able to work very closely with him to get everything he needed.”

“And for that, I am eternally grateful. It’s not everyday you get someone who's so eager and willing to please,” Boba replies calmly, sipping from his own drink like he’s simply discussing the weather.

You cover your scoff with your glass and drain the rest of it. “And now since he owes me one, I’ve got him at my mercy. Just where I like him.”

“Looks like you’re in for it now, my friend!” the old biology professor guffaws, grasping Boba’s hand in a firm shake. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Fett. Stop by my office for a drink some time.”

The group moves on to the next familiar face in the crowd, leaving you and Boba alone. “Better watch it, princess,” he rumbles, enticing danger coating his words, “Or I won’t show you any mercy later tonight.”

With a cursory glance to confirm that no one is watching, you brush your lips over his ear, just enough to raise chill bumps on his tan skin. “Oh, professor,” you whisper, sordid and low, “that’s what I’m counting on.”

Though he’s never confirmed it in so many words, you know your professor likes to watch you play your little games, talk and flirt and ensnare yourself so deep in your own undoing you have no choice but to beg him for mercy when the night is over. He’s the patient hand of justice to your calculated subversive impulse, the solid weight to balance your scales. He’s the rock you scrape your match against to set your passions ablaze.

You’d learned to build bonfires, great roaring things, on the summer camping trips you’d taken with your cousins as a kid. You were even quite good at it, the framing of the timbers and the flick of the wrist necessary to strike the flint coming naturally to you. Maybe that’s why you were so good at burning through Boba’s patience with slippery innuendos and heated looks.

You know building a fire takes time; seasoned wood must be gathered, tinder procured, a spot cleared for the blaze, all this before the pyre can be built stick by stick. If constructed correctly, the dry litter would catch the struck spark and burn bright and hot, igniting the kindling to crackle and snap, eventually spreading the growing flames to the larger logs for a sustained burn. If the ratio of smaller sticks and thicker pieces was off or the build of the bonfire didn’t allow enough oxygen in to feed the early feeble flames, then the pyre would be nothing more than a smoking pile of cold wood. And that would not bring Boba to a boil, make him spill over hot and scalding in vexed passion.

His restraint and control were truly commendable. To his credit, he’d spent the larger part of the evening calmly watching you work the room during the baccalaureate reception, gifting smiles and glittering laughs to men who didn’t deserve them and to women who wouldn’t actually do anything with them, even if they wanted to. You are in your element and you know it, making you not only powerful but dangerously so.

Taking a sip of the sparkling flute of champagne pressed into your hand by the one of the history department, you let your eyes wander around the vibrant space, taking in the celebratory atmosphere around you as laughter and animated conversation twine together in a lively buzz. You take your time in your survey, knowing that your gaze would eventually land on what it sought. You spot Selena next to one of the exquisite floral arrangements decorating the room laughing with one of the film professors and Fennec leaning against one of the polished marble columns in deep conversation with a pretty woman with sparkling eyes. Looks like I’m not the only one going home with somebody tonight.

Finally, your languid scan of the party falls on its target: a certain Mandalorian studies professor. He looks truly glorious under the glistening chandeliers illuminating the library, they cast a soft, warm glow that makes his bronze skin gleam and scars glint with tantalizing effect. It’s his eyes, however, that make your knees go weak: they shine dark and expressive, the umber of them always on you no matter where you found yourself in the room. If eyes really are the windows to the soul like they say, then Boba Fett has a soul like the ocean, with unknowable depths and enough pressure to break bones, towering waves that doom sailors and hidden currents that whisk the unsuspecting into the abyss.

Gods above, you want to drown in him even if it takes calling down Poseidon's wrath to do so. You’ve built your pyre, now all that’s left is to light it.

Putting on your most dazzling smile, you sidle over to the drinks table to casually “bump” into Professor Lancaster, the admittedly handsome 30-something hot shot bachelor of the university faculty. “Oh, I am so sorry!” you apologize in a breathy rush, immediately grabbing a napkin to dab at the splash of champagne on the young man’s suit jacket. The look of surprise on Lancaster’s face swiftly morphs into opportunistic pleasure when he sees that the person with their hands on him is the young research librarian in a tight dress.

He grins. It’s a scavenger’s smile, hungry for a kill that isn’t his. “No worries, bright eyes. You okay?”

“Better now that I’m with you.” His brows shoot up and, you’re absolutely sure, so does his dick based on the way his pupils dilate. “Sorry,” you giggle, fluttering your lashes, “too much?”

You can feel how his greedy gaze slides over your exposed skin in open interest. “Maybe not enough,” he winks, “Let’s get you another drink.”

You spend the next twenty minutes at the young professor’s side as he slowly inches you towards the side door by circulating from one group to another under the guise of “making introductions”—like you didn’t already work at the university. The entire time you sneak peeks at Boba watching your antics with rapidly decreasing levels of patience. Eventually, you lose sight of him behind a cluster of English professors.

You’re literal feet from the exit when Lancaster slides a hand down to your waist, tugging you against his side by your hip bone. “What do you say, bright eyes? Wanna get out of here?”

The pompous look on his face tells you everything you need to know about this man: he’s used to getting what he wants and he’s not afraid to take advantage of your possible inebriation to get it. He’s disgusting. Suddenly, you’re very conscious of how much you dislike this man and consider slamming your heel down on his overpriced loafer. Before you get the chance, however, a familiar deep voice sounds from behind your back.

“Excuse me, I have some business with this one here.” Boba’s voice leaves no room for disagreement, at least if one was smart enough to know it.

Lancaster, unsurprisingly, is not. “We were just leaving,” he says dismissively with an annoyed expression, reaching to turn you towards the exit, “It’ll have to wait.”

“Don’t think it can,” Boba responds flatly. He grabs your bicep and peels you out of his grasp. Ignoring the younger man’s sputtering as he leads you down one of the hallways branching off from the atrium, going far enough that the noise from the reception starts to fade off. Rounding the corner into the stacks, he abruptly flattens you against the wall, caging you in and pinning you with his hips.

If his slight manhandling of you before had you wet, this has you soaked: his thick forearm rests on the wall next to your head while his other hand remains locked around your upper arm, just tight enough to remind you it could bruise if it got any tighter. His hips, however, are likely to leave their mark on yours—it’s all enough to drive you nearly insane with desire. You’re too hot for your own skin and Boba is radiating enough heat to brand you and melt your brain like wax.

“Not so brave now, are you, little princess?” Boba croons, licking his lips like he can taste your salt on his tongue. “Now that you’ve got nowhere to run and no pretty boys to bat your lashes at.” His muscular thigh pushes its way between your own and he grinds up into your center, forcing a moan up behind your teeth.

“I have… no idea… what… you’re talking… about,” you gasp, writhing on his thigh as your hands fly out to fist his suit jacket in a gnarled grip. You can feel your brain melting down the sides of your skull under his piercing gaze.

“Oh, you don’t?” he mocks, “Well let me enlighten you then, sweetheart. You spent the entire evening driving every man and the women Shand didn’t get to first out of their minds with your pretty little face and flirty little mouth. And all for what, to get my attention?”

You’re burning so hot you can’t even think, much less get your tongue to unstick to form a coherent sound, so all you can answer with is round, shiny eyes and a shiver.

“Well, now you have it, princess,” he continues, a predatory smirk slashing across his dark features that makes your insides twist with his danger. “What are you gonna do with it?”

“I-I was just having fun,” you manage, your voice coming out hoarse and pitchy. Boba’s pressed so far into you that you’re scraping along his thigh as you ride it.

He grunts, shaking his head in disbelief. “She says she was ‘just having fun…’” he mumbles to himself as if the thought is amusing to him. You flash a tentative smile in hopes of sweetening him up, but the lurid flash in his eyes signal that it’s far too late for such mercy. “If that’s what you do for fun, princess,” he hisses out the pet name, “then it looks like I need to keep you on a shorter leash.” Releasing your bicep, Boba’s hand wraps around your throat faster than your muddled perception can register.

The strangled curse that claws up from your chest can’t even escape the confines of your throat to sound. Blood rushes to your head as your entire existence narrows down to the rough hand pressing in on your airways. You’re gushing into your panties, the amount of wetness now coating your thighs utterly obscene. Fuck he’s going to be the death of me and I want him to do it.

Boba’s rumble of pleasure at your response rattles in your own chest as he eases up on the pressure of his fingers to let you suck in desperate air, rubbing the delicate flesh underneath. “Oh, you liked that didn’t you? You like it when I’m rough, dirty girl.” His taunts are pouring fire into your bloodstream and sweat begins to slick your skin. Leering, he drags his tongue over your racing pulse point and your mind goes searingly blank. For a moment, you think you might have actually come with the way blinding pleasure floods your entire body.

“Fuck, Boba!”

A sinful chuckles drips from his plush lips into your damp skin, and he seals it away there with a wet kiss before pulling back to look into your glazed eyes. “Do you know what I do with brats who forget their place?” he asks in a timbre so low you can feel it in your bones.

This you know, you think, this you can push back on and regain some ground. “You punish them with your silly little toys and spank their asses a bit,” you spit out, your derision honed sharp as your initial surprise begins to wear off.

“Oh no, princess, you’d enjoy that too much.” An acidic laugh pours from his lips, making your blood run painfully cold, and he smiles at you like you’re struggling prey caught in his maw. “What I do,” he growls, “is I don’t let them come.”

Before the words even leave the air between you, Boba releases you and pushes away from the wall where he had you pinned. You stumble forward, your head spinning with the dizzying loss of contact and terrifying revelation. Panic sticks needles into your skin. He wouldn’t… he couldn’t. He couldn’t, right?!

“Aww, is that not what you were expecting, sweetheart?” Boba asks with a crushing amount of false sympathy, chucking up your chin on two fingers. You’re coming apart at the seams and he loves it. “Thought you could pull one over on me?”

Heart pounding against your ribs, you race to figure a way to repair your situation, one that ended up with him fucking you through at least one orgasm. Kark, why did I think this was all a good idea again? Gods I’m so kriffing wet I can’t think. Come on… focus, focus! The second you get the idea you act on it, wasting no time debating its worth.

You drop to your knees right in front of him, yanking him forward by his belt buckle. Boba catches himself against the wall with an outstretched arm and a curse, his smug expression shattered by genuine shock. As he stares down at you with wild eyes, you grin a wicked thing. “Oh, I’m sorry. Was that not what you were expecting?”

Boba stares at you like you’ve remade his entire universe, his broad chest heaving under the straining buttons of his shirt. Sucking in a ragged breath, he hauls you to your feet and slams into you, his hand cupping the back of your skull so it doesn’t hit the wall when his lips crash into yours. You pulse and throb into one another, your every breath melting into his as your hands claw into clothes seeking the heat of the other. He becomes you and you become him as time stops moving—if only for a minute.

“Baby, princess, angel,” Boba moans into your mouth, “I gotta have you, I have to have you right fucking now. Go to your office and start touching yourself. Get yourself nice and ready so I can slide right into that perfect cunt as soon as I get you home. I’m going to pull the car around.”

Your panties don’t even make it into the house: Boba literally tears them off you as soon as he puts the car in park in his driveway, stuffing them into his pants pocket and promising to buy you a hundred more so he can do it again. Stumbling with you up the blessedly short path to his front door with a handful of your ass, Boba jams his key into the lock and you both tumble in the door, lips still connected. “Shit, aren’t you always good for a surprise?” he pants between kisses, fumbling with the door bolt until it locks behind him. “Dropping to your kriffing knees in the library. Kark, couldn’t even punish you after that, my bold little princess. Made me too fucking hard.”

Your lips smile against his as you push his jacket from his shoulders. “You just bring it out of me, sir, I-I can’t help it. Couldn’t stand the thought of not having you.” Boba groans at the epithet and you start pulling open his buttons with shaking hands. “That’s why I do it… can’t help myself, just want you so kriffing bad.” When you reach his pants at the end of his shirt, he snatches your wrists and spins you so your back is shoved against the door.

“You’re so good to me, so fucking good. Even when you’re a brat, you’re my little angel, doing it all for me. Maker, you’re perfect.” Boba snags the hem of your dress and bunches it over your hips, allowing the cool air access to your slick folds and making you shiver. “Good girls get rewarded, don’t they, princess? Yeah, that’s right. I’m going to make you feel so, so good, give you the reward you deserve.”

Your desire-dazed brain can’t decide whether to focus on the stream of filth pouring forth from his mouth or his lips as they kiss over your dress and down to your soft belly as he comes to kneel in front of you. Effortlessly tossing your leg over his shoulder while balancing you against him, Boba steadies your body with his hands on your hips. “Will you let me return the favor, pretty girl? Will you let me lick up this perfect pussy?”

Smiling down at him with lust-blown eyes, you answer in a breathy laugh. “But I didn’t even actually suck you off.”

“Bet you would have, though, princess, if I had let you.”

Fuck, he’s probably right. You weren’t kidding when you said you can’t help yourself. “Yeah, I would have,” you giggle, “Why didn’t you?” The thought of slipping his thick cock in between your lips when all those other people were just a hallway away sends a fresh wave of arousal dripping from your core.

“Mmm because I want to hear every single sound that comes out of your mouth tonight… and none of those fuckers deserve to even think about you, much less hear those sweet noises you make when you’re coming apart.” Boba begins layering sloppy kisses over your thighs and abdomen, circling ever closer to your drenched center. His dark eyes flick you to capture yours in a heated gaze. “Let me hear it, pretty baby, can I eat this sweet cunt?”

Lacing your fingers with his hand on your opposite hip, you lean your head back on the door. “Please, sir, please let me have your tongue.”

The words don’t even finish leaving your lips before he dives into between your legs, groaning like a man starved getting his first meal in months. The sounds of his slurping and sucking have your knees giving out almost immediately, rapturous pleasure consuming your entire being. All that exists is the way his tongue fucks into you, the way his lips wrap around your aching clit and how he pulls moans deep from within your stuttering chest. When his thick, calloused fingers push inside your weeping heat and curl, your hand slaps over your mouth to stifle a ragged scream as explosions of color blur your vision.

Boba claps his palm against your ass and pops off your clit. “Don’t you fucking dare cover that mouth of yours. I want to hear everything, sweetheart, I want you to wake up the whole fucking neighborhood with how good I make you feel.”

The torturous coil in your belly tightens to a delicious pain and you let your pleasure be heard, your jaw falling slack as your head tips back against the heavy wooden door. Boba redoubles his efforts, cursing and praising, sucking and licking, twisting you tighter and tighter around your own desire until it’s almost unbearable. When a third finger slips into you, it feels like the floor drops from beneath your feet and you know you're doomed to your desire. “Please, can I-can I-”

“Fucking come all over me,” he growls straight into your clit, digging so deep into you think you see the Maker.

A wail tears free from your chest, echoing off the walls and vibrating in your skull as you dissolve into pure pleasure, raw and vulnerable against the mountain of his body. To be so ethereal and untouchable in his arms is a new, divine dimension of your ecstasy that heals you even as you fall apart into a soaked, quivering mess.

“Nau’ul be kar’ta,” Boba coos in a voice like crushed velvet, rich and dark, “my beautiful, perfect girl, come here.” You collapse in a trembling heap into his waiting arms, your mind nothing but a plane of warm, fuzzy bliss. You’re lifted and arranged in his lap by impossibly strong hands as you drift through the glowing stars of your high. Boba rocks you gently against his heaving chest, a stream of patient praise streaming from his lips pressed into your hair. “You did so good for me… taste so sweet, makes me want to keep you on my tongue forever… kark, bet the whole street is jealous with how loud you were, such a good girl, letting me hear that sweet voice just like I asked…”

Eventually your senses start to return and you wiggle around to straddle him, placing your molten core directly over top of his straining erection and eliciting a graveled groan from him. “Mmm, that was amazing, professor,” you hum into his throat, “Now let me return the favor.” You tug his shirt off and he lets you drop it to the floor. “I wanna go over every single tattoo on your body with my tongue until it’s all I can remember.”

“Kark, you’re filthy, princess,” he groans, his cock twitching with interest underneath his pants as hauls you up with him off the floor. By the time you stagger to the bedroom, your clothes are gone, littered in a trail from the door to his room. Seizing your opportunity, you shove him back on the mattress and hop on top of him, pushing a grunt from him that makes you giggle. “Easy, little one, I’m not as young as I once was,” he grits out between your kisses.

Grinning into the thick muscle of his pec, you nip at the ink you just traced with your tongue. “Sorry, I forgot I have to be careful with you, old man.” Boba pinches your ass and you squeak, though you remain unrepentant.

“You must want me to be mean to you tonight, sweetheart.”

You continue licking and sucking over the dark swirling patterns on his chest. “Mmm, maybe I do.” While you’d never been much for that sort of thing before, none of those men before had been Boba. If his praise is sweeter than honey you can only imagine how delicious his ire would be, and something hot sparks between your legs. “But I wouldn’t want to wear you out, old timer.”

A dangerous, low chuckle emanates from the ribs under your lips and your insides twist into knots. “You really know how to bring it out of me, don’t you, naughty princess? I think you really do want me to be mean, want me to treat you just like how you’ve been acting all evening.” Snatching you against his chest, he grabs your jaw in a tight grip. “Tell me, little one, is that what you want? You want me to call you names and remind you who you belong to?” He brushes his thumb over your cheek in a small show of affection that reminds you this is all a game, and you can call it off if you want to. It makes your heart sing—and your pussy clench.

“Yes, Boba,” you rasp, molten desire pumping hot and heady under your heated skin, “I want that, please.” You’ve accepted the fact that Boba Fett makes you want things that you never have before, sinful things that make your cheeks burn and heart race. It’s a forbidden fruit that the professor is all too willing to indulge you in, him licking up its sweet juice as it dribbles down your chin.

“Anything you don’t want me to call you? Any limits you want to set?” he questions, his voice taking on that firm, guiding tone he always used when he worked through things with you.

Chewing your lip, you consciously slow your breath like how Boba taught you so you can focus in the moment when you’re all worked up. “Don’t call me ‘bitch’ or anything too serious like that. ‘Whore’ and ‘slut’ are fine though.”

He nods, placing a quick kiss on your forehead. “Remember to stop me if you don’t like something, babygirl, I’ll never be upset if you do. What’s our word?”

“Kamino,” you answer dutifully, wriggling a little in your excitement, desire licking up your thighs—your evening-long machinations were about to come to fruition.

“Good girl,” he praises, “Ready?”

“Yes, sir.”

The dominant, possessive side Boba tucked away during your discussion returns tenfold more wicked now that it’s all decided. He sits up, taking you with him as drops down into the armchair against the wall. “Then get on your knees,” he sneers, “You want to act like a whore, throwing yourself at everyone who shows you any interest in that tight little dress you had on, I’m going to treat you like one. I want you sucking my dick like that’s all you know how to do.”

You drop so fast it makes your head spin, allowing your base desire to freely submit. You undo his belt with hungry fingers, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants to reveal his half-hard girth. Instead of yanking down the last barrier separating him from your tongue, you run your nails up his thighs and drag your open mouth over his growing bulge over his underwear, pulling a hiss from his lips.

“I didn’t say tease me, girl,” he admonishes, though he’s fully hard now, straining against the confines of the fabric still on him. “If you do as you’re told, maybe I’ll think about giving that pussy what I know it needs.”

You moan into him, his cock jumping at the feeling. You tear down his underwear and his beautiful cock springs forth, proud and already leaking. “Fuck,” you exhale as you take him all in, “you’re so big.” Kark, I swear he’s even bigger than last time.

“Aw, don’t be scared, sweetheart, I like it when they choke,” he taunts with a cruel chuckle that goes straight to your sopping cunt. He pumps his tanned length a few times and your mouth waters at the sight of it. “Now open up that pretty mouth.”

Your jaw drops open and you stick your tongue out, wide and ready, your hands folded in your lap. Wiggling in anticipation, you blink big eyes up at him through your lashes.

“Fuck, look at you. You’re fucking filthy for me, aren’t you? On your knees right where you belong, tongue out like the good little slut you are. Go ahead, princess, I know you want it.” He smacks the head of his cock on your waiting tongue and you lunge forward, ravenous for more of him. He groans as you swirl around his frenulum, lapping off the pearls of precum waiting for you. Your hands travel up his thighs and he releases his grasp to let you replace it with your own.

Cupping his balls, you plant wet, sloppy kisses down his length, pleased when you feel the slightest tremble in his thighs. Peeking up at him, you find Boba looking down at you, his eyes pitch black and voracious in their desire. Keeping your gaze fixed on him, you lean in and pepper kisses around his base before flicking your tongue out to drag along the seam of his balls.

“Shit-fuck!” His right hand flies to your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair. “Kark, you’re dirty,” he rasps, tugging your face back a little to look in your eyes.

You grin up at him, spit already dripping down your chin. “Just for you, sir.” Your voice is breathy, your chest already heaving from exertion.

“Good girl, learning her place already. Now finish this up for me, little princess, I still have to fill that pussy full so everyone knows just who you belong to.” The whimper that falls from your lips would have been embarrassing if you weren’t so turned on you can barely form a thought that isn’t concerned with getting his dick inside you. “Aw, does that make you wet, pretty baby?” he mocks, clearly enjoying your depraved reactions. “You like it when I talk to you like you’re my personal whore, my warm mouth and tight little pussy to take whenever I feel like it?”

You pull at the hand holding you back by your hair, desperate to have him down your throat, desperate to cry and gag at the size of him. Boba chuckles, deep and pleased in his chest and loosens his grip so you can get him back in your eager mouth. Once you have him heavy on your tongue, you hum happily and begin bobbing your head over his velvet length, gradually taking more of him into your mouth. Boba’s hips stutter when you slide your tongue along the pulsing vein on the underside of his cock, triggering your gag reflex.

You try to swallow down the suffocating feeling, but the sheer girth of him makes your throat close up. Choking and coughing, you pull off of him, tears beading in your lashes and spit running down your neck. Boba takes your face in his warm, calloused hands and tilts your face up to him. “Everything okay, little one? Too much?” he asks, concern lining his handsome face.

“No,” you pant, voice already ragged, “‘s perfect, just caught me by surprise.” You smile up at him then turn your head to kiss his palm. He’s so good to you that it makes you ache.

He swipes his thumbs over your cheeks, wiping away the moisture collected on your lashes. “Okay, I want you to tap me anywhere three times if you need to stop. It’s the same as our word if you can’t speak. Can you say that back to me so I know you understand?” You nod, repeating back the information. “That’s my good girl,” he beams, “Now I think there’s something you need to finish.”

You’re on him in an instant, guiding him back into your waiting mouth hungrily. As much as you love licking and sucking up and down his cock, slurping and swirling with abandon, what you really want is to do is take him to the hilt and swallow him down until he loses control. Taking what hasn’t made it past your lips in hand, you start pumping him and twisting your wrist, your fingers sliding easily over his spit-soaked skin.

“Fuuuu- that’s it,” he grunts, “look at you taking me so well. You must really want me to fuck you, my filthy little princess, must really want- shit.” He hisses, his hand shooting out to brace himself against the wall when slide enough of him in your mouth to take your hands off him to rest them on his hips. You look up to see his eyes screwed shut and his jaw clenched, and you hum appreciatively around the thickness stuffing your mouth, “Osik, d-do it, I know you can take it all, sweetheart. Do it for me and-shit-and I’ll fuck you so good I’ll be dripping from your pussy for days.”

You moan, your throat relaxing to take the last inch and you swear you could’ve come just from the sound that ripped free from his chest if it didn’t take all your brainpower to keep him seated in your mouth.

“Kark-fucking-stars above,” Boba chokes out, his free hand coming to guide you up and down his cock at a steady pace, “Look at you taking it all, I’m so proud of you, so p-proud, fuck, pretty girl.” His eyes are locked onto where he’s disappearing over and over again into your open mouth.

Blinking up at him with watery eyes, you swallow around his thick cock and he snarls. He tugs you off him and pulls you up into his arms, kissing you like he needed you to breathe and walking you both back until your thighs hit the bed. It feels like he’s everywhere, his tongue filling your mouth, his hands grabbing every inch of you as his hips pin down your own. “Shit, open up those legs for me, princess, I need to be inside you right fucking now.”

You fall back on the mattress, letting your thighs fall open. “Please, sir,” you gasp when two of his thick fingers slide inside you with no resistance.

Boba groans, the sound so deep it feels like it rattles in your own. “This fucking wet just from sucking my dick. Kark, you’re really a whore for an old man aren’t you, sweetheart?” You can only moan in response, clenching around his rough fingers and keening into him, unable to communicate any more of an answer than that. “Cockdumb already, little princess? Here I thought you were my big girl… maybe I should just go back to fucking your mouth if you’re not going to use it. You certainly were eager to run it earlier though, weren’t you? Talking to all those other men like they could possibly make your sweet little pussy feel like I can.”

His thumb finds your clit and you cry out, arching into him. “Please, Boba! Please fuck me, please give me your cock!” Your head is snatched back by your hair, making a high whine catch in your abused throat at the sudden movement.

“You know better than to say my name,” he threatens, his rasp dangerously low. “Mmm, since you suck cock so good I’ll let it slide this one time, but you had better not forget again, little girl. You hear me?” Boba’s eyes are ablaze with dark fire, the intensity of him burning with the heat of a dying star, sucking you into his inescapable gravity.

“I-I’m sorry, sir,” you whimper. His scalding words are going to make you come apart at the seams just as much as his fingers.

“Oh, you will be.” He pulls out you with an obscene squelch, a trail of your arousal connecting him to you. “Look at that, my princess wants it so bad. She wants anything I fucking give her. Isn’t that sweet? No, you know what, don’t answer that. Be a good little slut and clean this up for me.” He pushes his slick coated fingers past your swollen lips and you moan at the tang of your own arousal, your heady taste spreading over your tongue as you suck his fingers clean. He removes his hand from your face, the digits in your mouth coming out with a lewd pop.

Lining himself up with your dripping slit, Boba takes your face gently in his large hand, the caress so much softer than his previous words. “Hey, look at me, babygirl.” You slide your gaze up his broad chest to find his sable eyes. “You good? Everything okay? I know I usually prep you a little more than this.”

“Yeah, s’good. I’m so fucking wet, bet you’ll slide right in,” you giggle, slurred and happy. Truthfully, you hope it’d hurt a little, just enough so that you’d feel it tomorrow—a secret reminder that you were his.

Boba gives you a smile, a real smile bright and shining, not one of his mean ones from your game. “Okay, little one. Remember you can say your word or tap me three times if it gets to be too much. I don’t want my princess hurting.”

Golden affection blooms in your chest even as you give him a sassy little salute. “Yessir.”

“Maker, what am I going to do with you?” he huffs, exasperated. The twinkle in his eye betrays him, however.

“Hopefully, fuck me.”

“As you wish, brat.” Boba slots his lips over yours and slides into your heat, inch by inch as you moan into each other’s mouths, completely enraptured with the feeling of one another. When he pulls back to sink in further, he hisses out a curse. “How’re you always so fucking tight? Shit, you feel so fucking good.”

The way he’s slowly splitting you open makes your eyes roll back in your head, your hands scrabbling across his shoulders for purchase. “Fuck, you’re going to tear me in two… don’t stop,” you whine. The stretch around his cock burns, quickly fizzling into hot pleasure that makes you crave more, deeper, harder. It’s ungluing the edges of your mind, pushing your good sense out of your skull one thick inch at a time. Tears prick your eyes at the delicious strain, your teeth biting down on Boba’s lip as he pushes flush with your hips. You’re not sure if the guttural moan is his or yours or both combined, you’re so full of him.

Boba snaps his hips, jolting you further up the bed and setting a harsh pace that has your legs shaking around his hips. You’re burning, melting, screaming, completely wrecked by his pleasure. He’s leaning over you now, an arm bracing himself next to your head as he drills into you with unwavering force. Tearing his lips from yours, he licks a searing stripe up your neck that makes you clench around his pounding thrusts. “Fuck, you think that boy can fuck you like this? Think he can stretch you out on his cock and make you cry and beg for him? Hmm?”

Hot tears spill down your cheeks. Whimpering, you shake your head. “N-no, s-sir, only you! Onlyyouonlyyou, fuck, only you!”

“Fuck, you’re dirty, aren’t you? Ready to suck my dick with all those people there, riling me up all night so I’d take you back here and fuck you like the slut that you are for me. That’s right, isn’t it? Yeah, I know it is. You’re such a good little slut for me, taking my cock like that’s all you were made for. Kark, I bet you’d let me fuck you in front of all of them wouldn’t you, my filthy little princess?”

You moan, raking your nails down his back and making him curse in pleasure. “I w-would do anything, you feel so good, fuck, I would let you do anything to me! Just don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

“You want it, huh? You want me to fuck you and make you all mine, fill up that tight little cunt and so my cum runs down your legs? You gonna take every drop I give you like the good little girl I know you are?”

“Yes, sir, please,” you sob, overwhelmed by the rough drag of him against your collapsing walls and his skin burning into you with each thrust of his powerful hips.

“Then tell me who this pussy belongs to, I wanna hear you say it so you never karking forget it again.”

“You, you, it belongs to you!”

“Say my name, princess, say my fucking name.”

“Boba! It belongs to you, Boba Fett, I’m all fucking yours, Boba, please!”

He pulls back, grabbing the back of your thighs and shoving them up, folding you in half. Slamming back into you, he slides a hand between your bodies to rub your clit in tight, maddening circles.

“More, please more!” you beg, clawing at his free hand until he lets you have it, and you place it on your throat.

Boba growls, wrapping his fingers around your neck and squeezing so that your world narrows down to just the feeling of him. Finally just him and nothing else.“Osik, you’re so fucking filthy and perfect, never wanna stop fucking this sweet cunt. K’atini ner cyare!”

“I’m gonna… can I… please,” you choke out, barely holding onto the last shreds of your sanity against the onslaught of ecstasy burning through you.

Groaning, Boba covers your mouth with his. “Come for me, soak my cock, give it to me, come on, princess, I know you can do it.”

Everything goes blank, your muscles constricting and your nails digging into his shoulders. Pure, electric energy fires through your veins, overloading your senses to a searing bright pleasure that makes you understand how the universe could start with a bang. You’re rocked with two, three, more pumps that shatter your fledgling universe and then you’re flooded with the sweet heat of his release.

You’re not entirely sure if you’re conscious as you float through the glittering galaxies that flash behind your eyes in dazzling color; you’re not even sure you remember how to breathe but you must be, because your lungs aren’t protesting. The next thing you’re truly aware of is being in Boba’s arms, laying curled into his chest on the bed while his fingers scratch pleasantly against your scalp. Humming in delight, you snuggle deeper into his woody scent.

“Mmm, there she is,” he chuckles, the warm sound buzzing in his chest.

“Nuh uh,” you shake your head, squeezing your eyes back shut—you want to be lost in him forever.

“Gotta come back some time, pretty girl, or I can’t get you in a nice warm bath then tuck you in bed with me,” he entreats, rubbing warmth into your limbs with calloused hands.

You consider this tempting offer; it certainly would be better than sleeping sticky all night, you suppose. “Can you bring me a snack?”

“I can bring you a snack.”

“And I can have a massage?”

Boba lets out an amused huff, giving you a squeeze. “And I will give you a massage,” he confirms.

You make a show of pondering the issue further, chewing your lip and studying the ceiling thoughtfully. “I guess I’ll allow it then, professor.”

Boba laughs again and eases you both up to a sitting position before sliding from underneath you so he can walk around to your side.

Rolling over, your thighs spread a little, and you gasp and slap them back together when you see the mess there. “Boba!” you squeak.

“What, little one?”

“You, it-it,” you stutter, tripping over the words in your shock, “how is there so much?”

He cocks a brow and you let your legs fall all the way open. “Oh, princess,” he breathes out, his voice a strained rasp. The inside of your thighs are slick with both your cum and your folds are coated in his pearly release, the excess dripping down to soak a spot on his sheets. Boba reaches down and spreads your lower lips a little farther apart, sending more of him leaking down your slit. Boba curses and you bite down hard on your bottom lip around the moan flooding up your chest.

“Well,” he grins, smug as the cat who caught the canary, “I did tell you I was going to fill you full, princess.”

Feeling equally refreshed and drowsy from your warm bath, you robotically go through the motions of your nighttime routine. From his bathroom mirror, you catch a glimpse of Boba where he’s sitting on the edge of the bed: he looks forlorn, his eyebrows furrowed over a pensive expression. For such a larger-than-life man, he seems almost… small.

His pain weighs heavy on your soul, prompting a visceral reaction in your gut. The muscles in your chest tighten and your arms yearn to press him close so there would be no room for pain in his body. Flicking off the light, you pad over to him with deliberate ease as not startle him in his revelry; Boba is a hardened man, you know, but you want to nurture that slip of vulnerability he allows himself in your presence, protect it close to your own.

He smiles when he sees you approaching, quickly papering over his melancholy expression with a happier one, but it doesn’t manage to make it to his brown eyes. He spreads his legs a little wider so you can stand between them and pulls you close with his hands on your hips. “All done, princess?”

“Yep,” you answer, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck. You let a few silent seconds slip by, making way for him to speak his mind. When he doesn’t acknowledge his latent discontent, you settle back on your heels with a sigh. “You gonna tell me what’s bothering you or am I going to have to threaten you again?”

Boba grumbles a huff that sounds a lot like “too observant” and tips forward to bury his face in your tits, pulling you further into him. You allow him a few moments of respite, stroking the back of his neck with light fingers before easing his face up to look at you.

“It’s nothing, really-” he starts, his expression clouded over with false reassurances.

“Don’t try that crap with me,” you cut him off sternly. Then, more gently, you add, “Please Boba, be honest with me. You help me… let me help you.”

“You know I can’t deny you,” he mumbles after a moment, defeat echoing in the back of his throat. He leans forward, and you let him rest his cheek on your chest while he silently composes his thoughts as your fingers resume their patterns on his neck. “Watching you tonight… you are so bright and young and beautiful, and I’m just an old man with a scar for a heart that never quite worked right. You deserve… so much more than what I can give you. Someone who can make their words come out right because you deserve to know how special you are, cyar’ika. Someone who doesn’t have a past like mine, a person without so many sharp edges and broken parts. I’m missing pieces and you deserve someone who’s more… whole.”

There’s true pain in his voice, the agony and strife of a man who has endured and had to bear the cost of that survival on his own, with wounds that never completely healed alongside scars that run so deep they’re etched into his bone and being. If only he knew how beautiful it made him that he never let that secret soft part of him die, you think. That despite what would have been the logical choice for anyone in his position, he chose to tuck his tenderness away for safekeeping rather than letting it wither in reality’s harsh sun.

“Boba, I want you to listen to me and listen to me good.” You take his beautiful face between your palms and trace your thumbs over his cheekbones, mimicking the affectionate gesture he often used with you. This close you can see the dark lashes around his brown eyes and all the torment held within them; it makes you physically ache to know that this man, this perfect, wonderful man doesn’t think he deserves everything good and pure because he’s roughed up and his soul has some dings in it. That it somehow precluded him from deserving the same love he so willingly gives to you despite your own imperfections.

“I love you, Boba Fett, I love every scar on your body, every bruised muscle and broken bone. I love your dark, hidden parts just as much as the ones which see the light. You know why? Because they made you who you are, they made you into the man who makes me feel safe, makes me feel beautiful and happy. You are a man of action and that’s worth far more to me than any string of pretty words ever could be. You are enough and you are mine, and the sooner you accept that, the better.”

By the way his fingers clutch into the plush of your hips, you can tell he desperately wants to believe you, that he wants to reject the jagged demon of doubt buried in his heart like old shrapnel. But Boba casts his eyes down, still unsure.

“Do you trust that I can make my own decisions?” you ask, soft and firm, patient but unrelenting. He nods with a hum of agreement. Closing the gap between you, you rest your forehead against his creased brow, “Then let me make this one,” you whisper, kissing him until your lungs burn for air, and even then you stay on his lips for a few more lingering seconds.

Boba looks into your eyes, staring like you held all the secrets of the universe within them. After a couple of heartbeats, he loops his arms around your waist and pulls you back on top of him on the bed, making you yelp and giggle. Kissing you, he maneuvers the two of you under the blankets. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum,” he breathes into you, the peaks and valleys of his father’s tongue rippling in your mind like cool water over rounded river stones. “Thank you for that, babygirl. I will try.”

You hadn’t yet asked him what any of the Mando’a words that slipped out of him meant, permitting him his secrets for now. Shifting your hips over his and deepening the kiss, you lick into his mouth as you lazily start to rut into him. Boba has given you a lot just now and you want to see that he’s rewarded for it.

“Little princess,” he chastens when your pace begins to pick up, “it’s late and I’m old.”

“You're not that old,” you nip at his lip, “and I’ll be on top.” You accent your offer with a grind of your hips that has him groaning at the friction between your bodies.

“You're not a very good listener, are you?” he grunts, “Besides, I need you well rested for tomorrow. I'm taking you out on a date.”

You stop dragging your hips over his, pulling back to stare at him. “A date?! You didn't tell me that, I didn’t bring anything to wear!”

“That’s because first, I’m taking you to get some more of those little sundresses you like to tease me with so much, and then I thought we’d go to that poppy farm you showed me on your phone the other day. They have ice cream there and a lemonade stand.”

You squeal in delight, kissing Boba all over his handsome face while he smiles warmly up at you. “You are too good to me, Boba Fett!” you manage between your flurry of pecks. He puts the sun in your chest and in air in your sails, and on top of all that, he’s apparently a secret romantic.

“Princess, I'm just getting started. You mean so much to me and I'm going to do my best to never let you forget it.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and you settle into his side, curling into him. “Now get some sleep, cyar’ika, I’ll be at your side, always.”

—Endnotes: I went to a poppy farm the other weekend and it was so effortlessly romantic I knew I had to write some Boba to go with it. (also don’t look at me like that, y’all KNEW this was gonna be a sugar daddy fic eventually lmao)

I've got some stuff coming up so the next posting will be two weeks out instead of one (I'm sorry 😭) but rest assured that I will be posting some extra snippets to make up for it!

MANDO'A TRANSLATIONS

(ner) cyare - (my) beloved, love

cyar’ika - sweetheart, darling, (a diminutive of cyare)

nau’ul be kar’ta - light of my heart

ni kar’tayl gar darasuum - I love you, (lit. "I hold you in my heart forever")

osik - Mando'a curse akin to "shit"

#i honestly do not know how i survived writing this #i think i passed out several times and my fingers just kept typing because 😮‍💨🥴🥵#professor boba owns my entire ass (and p*ssy)#zwei writes #fanfic #ex libris fic #boba fett #boba fett x reader #boba fett x f!reader #boba fett x fem!reader #boba fett x you #boba fett fanfic #boba fett smut #boba fett fanfiction #professor!boba fett #professor boba fett #professor au #star wars fanfiction

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glitchysquidd · 6 months

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Obviously don't have much context other than all that has been shown on tumblr but I wanted to get this cleared for me. I keep seeing people talk about how Melo should of kept it private but isn't Kazachi a Public Figure, he makes a living off of voice acting and twitch streaming a very public thing. He should of been called out publicly no matter how popular he is right? I'm really sorry if this comes off aggressive or idiotic, I have a problem with that and I really do mean this with genuine confusion and frustration, I feel like Melo had the right to publicly bring up not good actions done in private by a person who's job it is to be a role model and need to have sway on peoples thoughts and feelings to make a living? Am I not understanding this correctly? /gen

This is gonna be the last question I answer because I just want to move on from it but this is a completely valid question.

Yes Melo had the right as a person entirely, but it did not have to be taken to the internet. We were all friends and I thought Melo was mine?

But I guess they see me as a racist.

Same with Kaz.

Kaz said the N word in the context he was reading an offensive meme, he's POC a person of color. Doesn't make it right still I know, he apologized to melo in dms as a friend for saying it.

He said it once, still okay? No.

But not a reason to bring it to the internet.

Melo and Kaz were friends.

Melo brought it up to me and I very stupidly said with complete arrogance that basically

"yeah he makes racist jokes and is casually racist all the time!"

He doesn't.

That... is my fault, for spreading misinformation to a friend of mine about another friend.

I'm wrong for that.

I'm bad for that.

And I said that

"The n word doesn't matter its just a word"

That was arrogant of me as well. It's not just a word, it carries meaning behind it and you guys helped tell me that.

I've grown up in NY in a pretty small town.

I've grown up thinking, it's just a word because it used to make me uncomfortable bc so many people said it. I was told to grow up, get thicker skin, and that I'd be fine because it's just a word people like using. Everone says it in my town, doesn't matter your race they all say it.

I thought it was normal so I said what I said to melo, without realizing others have different experiences and others know it's bad.

I didn't know that.

But Melo didn't talk to me as a friend that I was in the wrong, we were good friends, we drew together, we laughed at stuff, we vented to each other. I thought Melo would tell me if I did something bad or wrong, or something that made them uncomfortable but they didn't...

Maybe they thought I'd yell at them?

I'm not sure...

But we were friends.

And I was even planning on asking to hang out with them until this happened. Because I hadn't done so in alil while.

This is something we could have talked about together. And I'm sorry they were to scared to talk to me as a friend and just blocked me and posted it.

No one seems to just correct friends on behaviors or things they say anymore.

It's the internet now.

They just block and post it online.

I understand if the situation were hurtful, like physically or mentally.

Maybe this had been bothering them for awhile but.. I thought they'd tell me if ive done something wrong.

I've had alot of friends this year find out I'm not growing up in a great place and they are correcting me on certain things that are okay to say or do. And I'm becoming a better person because of it.

At the end of the day I'm just an young idiot.

barely a adult honestly.

I literally know barely anything, school doesn't teach it, my parents don't either.

So my friends teach me.

I'm trying to still learn my rights from wrongs.

And Kaz in his own way is sorta too?

I don't know much personal info about him but yeah.

I don't know the environment he's grown up in but I know he's had friends pressure him to say it before or at least tell him to multiple times.

And I know he came to me upset after it happened, he felt bad, and uncomfortable with himself.

He never meant it in a malicious way or with malicious intent.

Btw you're not idiotic or anything, this question is out of genuine confusion.

I appreciate it.

Edit: it also ends up involving everone close to each other. I've had my brother receive a message and even a friend of mine from others.

I don't know if others had the same issue but it's making more problems than solutions...

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moneymasnn · 2 years

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The holiday fling| Mason Mount Part 1/2

Notes: To start this off THERE WILL BE A PART TWO!! lol it will be posted on Saturday, so only two days! This has been sat in the drafts for so long until I though it was good enough to post lmao. I hope you all enjoy the fic, I haven't written in literal months, but I'm really happy to be back on mason Tumblr again!!! Ive missed u all, thank you for all the kind messages I love every single one of you! And also I wanna say another thank you for 1k!!! When I saw it I was so shocked I honestly cried lol... but anyways enjoy the fic my lovelies🤍 gif credits too @goalkepa

Blurb: One where y/n meets a stranger outside of a bar and they both decide to be someone else for the night, until this backfires on them.

Warnings: Just mild swearing!

The request

Fancy holidays weren't your thing. You didn't really fit in with what people call the ‘riches’. The constant cameras, lack of privacy. It was honestly the last thing you ever wanted to experience. But with your brother in constant limelight, you almost were forced into that way of life.

You had just finished your degree in journalism in London, and right now was a better time than ever to have a well deserved break.

Your brother had willingly been on the other end of all of the phone calls you had made. Crying in your university's toilets, telling him you were homesick and couldn't deal with the stress.

You loved your brother, and you knew he only ever wanted the best for you. But what you needed was words of encouragement, not “drop out and come say with me.”

Now, to anyone, yes I get it. That does sound like the life, am I right?

Traveling around with your brother, he's a F1 racer, so the traveling would be set to a maximum, amazing views, beautiful cities, everything paid for. Yeah it was very appealing, but you weren't going to settle for that. You wanted to do it on your own.

So let's say hypothetically you did go travel the world with your brother, you wouldn't have anything for yourself other than following his career and you don't think you could deal with another phone call from your parents asking you what you were going to do with your life.

But now that you have finished university, you have some jobs on hold. But for the time being you decided to join your brother on his lads holiday to mykonos, fun.

That's also how you ended up in the situation you were currently enduring. You and Lando had left the villa a while ago to go have some well needed drinks, and to celebrate the fact you actually managed to graduate.

But long story short, like everyone else in your life, Lando had brought up the dreaded question, “what are you doing with your life now you have finished uni?”

A question you couldn't exactly answer...yet.

“All i'm saying is-”

“I get what you're saying, lando, but I want to do something for myself.” You couldn't help but let out a sigh of desperation, fiddling with the black straw in your drink.

“I could get you a job with mclaren? You could be an interviewer or something, and on the plus side you'll be with me for a year, traveling the world.” He smirks at you, bumping your shoulder.

He would love that, for him to be the hero. He's had everything handed to him on a silver plate, and you hated that. For once in your life you just wanted to be your own person.

“Oh because mum and dad would love that.” You mumble rolling your eyes.

“I'm sure they would, finally being able to see their child with a stable job, and maybe a stable life.” He snaps back at you.

You let out a breathy laugh. You might not be stable, but who is after they've just finished uni?

“You're being unreasonable? I don't want to live in your shadow, lando.”

“And you're being ungrateful.”

His words hit hard. You hated passing up his incredible opportunity, but you just wished he understood why you were doing it.

“I'm not being ungrateful, but you making one or two phone calls to get me this job defeats the point of what I'm trying to tell you. I want to get a good job because I'm talented and smart, not because Lando Norris is my brother.”

You watch as Lando rolls his eyes at you before he waved over the bartender to probably order another drink in hopes it kills the tension.

A silence loomed as you sat back in your chair, playing with the rings on your fingers.

The thing is, he doesn't get it. You love that he wants to help, but he needs to let you figure things out on your own.

You watch as some of landos friends start to approach him from the entrance,all dressed in fancy over-priced shirts, crisp white shoes and embarrassingly sunglasses on in the club.

You eye up the men that only acknowledge your brother, ignoring your presence completely, and you suddenly think that going for a walk and getting drunk by the beach sounds like a good idea.

Lando wasn't paying any attention to you as his back was now turned, greeting the young boys that had just walked over.

You grab your drink, smiling at the bartender before swiftly getting out your chair and walking out of the bar, leaving Lando with his friends. He was too distracted to notice you had gone anyway.

You really should keep your head up when you're walking, fiddling with the black straw in your drink, it becomes a slight distraction as you go to make it to the exit door. Although, for you it wasn't only the cold mykonos air that hit your body.

Your body collided with another that was also trying to make it out of the door, you smiled up at the young boy, he looked about in his twenties, gorgeous brown eyes, eyes that complemented his dark brown hair and his short, stubbley, beard.

“Sorry, you go.” he said.

“No, it's fine you go.” You ushered him with a quick smile.

“No honestly, you can go first.”

Your eyes narrow at the man, he swiftly smirks, scratching the back of his neck as you take up his offer and walk through the door first, smiling as you soak up the warm fresh air from outside.

“Sorry, about that.” he catches up to you, deciding to stand next to you.

It took you a moment to catch what he was on about but then you realized that your drink had split when he bumped into you, luckily missing your outfit, but your toes looked kinda sticky.

“Wait here?”

“What?” You look up at the odd stranger in disbelief, before he takes the now empty drink from your hand, pointing to the concrete slab that was made to look like a bench by the door.

“Just sit and wait, please.” Honestly, your day had been awful, and I don't think Satan could say no to his eyes.

He goes to push the door to the club before he turns around again, “Vodka lemonade?” You silently nodded before he wisped around the door.

You stood for a second before deciding to actually sit and wait.

The back of your legs hit the cold concrete slab as you sat, crossing your legs staring at the palm tree that calmly swayed above you.

You didn't have a moment to contemplate what the hell just happened with the stranger when your phone dings in your pocket.

Lando

Where did you go? Sent 22:15

Y/n???????? Sent 22:16

Did you go back to the villa? Sent 22:17

I'm sorry if i've upset you i was just trying to help Sent 22:17

Y/n

I'm fine, don't worry. Gone back to the villa i wasn't feeling too good talk 2 u tomo. Sent 22:20

Lando

Get back safe x sent 22:20

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, but you knew you needed to get out of here in case Lando notices you haven't actually gone back to the villa, but your trail of thought crashed when an almost familiar body was lingering over you.

It was the guy from earlier.

But this time he was holding a black round tray with a set of drinks on it, a wide grin plastered on his face as he placed the tray down next to you with what looked like two vodka lemonades, and two shots of tequila.

“Drink?” He asks you with a smile. “The least I can do after I practically spilled yours.”

“How do I know you won't spike me?” You squint at him, he didn't seem like the type to be honest, but what do you know, he's a stranger.

He furrows his brows before placing a hand on his heart, before smirking and picking up one of the drinks, he sips from the straw, before taking a dramatic gulp. He lets out a breathy laugh before passing the glass to you.

You tried not to giggle at the stranger's antics, but the couple drinks you had with Lando earlier were already doing you dirty as you quietly slipped the drink the stranger had bought you.

“Also the ice is floating.” He added, taking a sip of his own vodka lemonade.

“What?”

You turned to face him, his cheeks tint a pink shade before he pointed to your glass, “When a drinks been spiked the ice usually sinks.”

You stare at your floating ice for a moment, if he is a serial killer he's pretty damn good at luring in his victims, because it's been roughly six minutes and this boy has you captivated.

“So what's your name?” he smiles, passing you a shot.

The smell of strong tequila invades your nose as you watch him lift up his shot to cling it with yours.

He can sense your closed off demeanor as he sighs, but his smile never fades, “Fine, okay then, maya.” He winks at you with his shot in the air as you copy his actions in swallowing the tequila, the sensation burning your throat.

You winced slightly at the taste, before slamming the shot back down on the tray.

“Maya?” You question him, wiping the dribble from your bottom lip.

“Maya… Everdeen? Yep, you definitely look like Maya Everdeen.” He nodded to himself as he placed his shot glass back on the tray.

“Been watching the hunger games have you?” You smirked at him, picking your drink back up to fiddle with the straw.

He smiled before his cheeks turned pink again, he was kinda cute when he blushed.

“Hmh, if we're being serious, you definitely look like a charles.” You added, gazing over his long brown hair and his gorgeously glossy brown eyes. Your gaze linkers around his neck for a little while, noticing the small chain loosely hanging down the tip of his chest.

“I don't think I grew up posh enough for my mum to call me charles.” He smiled down at you.

“Where did you grow up?” Your eyes were watching your floating ice, as he giggled at your question.

“Trying to get to know your victims?”

“Simply making conversation.” The corners of your mouth slightly moved upwards.

“Portsmouth.” He replied, he did have a south east england kinda accent. “You?”

“Bristol.”

“You don't have a bristolian accent though?” He questioned.

“I did a lot of traveling growing up, I live in London now so it's not like I'm around the accent a lot, it really pops out when i'm with my parents though.” You smile up at him, but when your eyes meet he was already looking at you, the silent moment of eye contact was cut off when your phone screen lit up.

Lando

Did you get back to the villa alright? Sent 22:41

Shit.

“Hey Charles, fancy getting out of here?” You quickly stand up, brushing off the dirt from the back of your thighs.

“Go where? Somewhere quiet so you can murder me, i dont think so.” He smiles, you roll your eyes at his attitude before looking at the glistening reflection from the moon on the sea.

“Exactly that, the beach will do perfectly.” You smile already making way to cross the road.

This was very out of character for you. You don't do one night stands, not that this was a one night stand, or even anything close, but you knew it wasn't the safest of situations to have put yourself in. And the fact your brother would be pissed if he could see what you were doing right now.

You pulled your heels off on the side of the road, watching ‘charles’ pull off his socks and shoes as you both took a stroll along the beach.

You spent the long walk talking about everything and nothing, it was nice, talking to a stranger. You and the boy never once spoke about your own life or its problems. You just spoke about the world and had an odd conversation about planes. He told you about his fear of heights while you compared it to your fear of spiders. You spoke about the future and how one day he hopes to have a family, you couldn't say the same, sure you would love to have a family, but you wouldn't do that with just anyone. After the conversations died down, ‘charles’ had suggested a game he liked to call ‘rapid questions’.

“Summer or winter?” he asked you.

“Autumn.” You quickly say.

“Good answer.” He smirked as he looked down at you.

“Okay I have one, are you a cat or dog person?” You asked him.

“What do you think?”

“You look like a dog person.” You bump his shoulder, smiling up at him, watching how his eyes lightley shone from the reflection of the sea..

“Correct. One place in the world you would love to visit?” He asks you.

“New york. You?”

“Vegas.” He sheepishly smiles.

“Best present you've ever received?” You asked him, he smiled as he thought about his answer.

“Hmh, my great nan she knits jumpers for all the grandkids every year at christmas.”

“That's your best gift you've ever gotten?” You question him, trying to suppress your smile from his answer.

“It's the same routine every year, but the best part is the smile on her face when she sees you wear it on christmas day.”

“That's cute.” You bump his shoulder as you continue to walk along the sandy beach.

“What about you?”

“The best gift I've ever received… probably flowers.”

“Flowers?”

“Yeah, I love getting fresh flowers.” You shrug.

There was something about you that the boy couldn't help but be captivated by, he wanted to walk along this beach all night and ask you questions.

“Something you hate?” You said, interrupting his thoughts.

“Losing.”

“Competitive are we?” You smirked at him, your eyebrow furred as you watched him scoff slightly.

“Very.” He winked.

“Not a sore loser are you?”

He laughs, “I try not to be.”

“What about you? what's something you hate.”

“Expectations.” You shrugged, facing forward as you threw your head back slightly, feeling the sea breeze on your neck.

He looked at you confused, you took note of the expression so you decided to elaborate on your answer.

“There's nothing worse when you try your hardest and someone still expects more of you.”

“Yeah, that sucks.” he smiled down at you, but his smile widened as he thought of another question.

“Favorite swear word?”

“Bolacks.” You said with a confidant smile.

“Really?” He laughs,

“It can mean so many different things, good food, it was the bollocks, just kicked you in the nuts, sorry about your bollocks?” The stranger couldn't help but laugh at your answer.

“Mines definitely bastard.” He said.

“Bastard?” You repeated back to him.

“No, you've got to say it with sass, like bastard.”

You both walked along the sand for a while longer, giggling as you both kept repeating the word bastard.

Your empty glass was still clutched in your hand as you both continued to slowly walk, you had no idea how far you had both walked, but judging by the complaining from Charles it was probably quite far.

You turned around at the noise of Charles groaning, he fumbled down on one of the sunbeds laying across it as he looked up at you.

“I don't really drink a lot, so I'm basically a light weight. I just need to sit down for a moment.”

You can't help but giggle at him as he sprawls out along the sandy sunbed.

You situate yourself at the bottom of the sun bed, your eyes focused on the view of the sea and moon rather than the clearly drunk man whose head was now placed on your leg.

“Maya?”

“Yes charlie.”

“I thought my name was charles?” He smirked, his eyes never leaving yours.

“It is, but charlies a cute nickname.” You had to take a second to look away, even with the alcohol his stare was intense to you.

He turned his head so he could look into your eyes better. But you broke eye contact again by pulling out your phone, you checked the time and it was currently one am. You knew you should probably get back to the villa soon, really risking it with Lando going home and not finding you all tucked up in your room.

“Tell me about maya.”

You smiled down at the boy, fiddling with your fingers for a moment, as you leant forward, gently leaning on his thigh.

“Well for starters, she loves books. Oh, she's a dog person. Her favorite color changes every week.” You pause for a second to think about what else you could say, but your mystery man was just soaking it all up.

“And she can't tell you what her job is or she will get assassinated, and so will you.”

The stranger fake gasps at your words.

“Tell me more.” He sits up, cross legged as he faces you.

“Hmh, she works for the FBI.” Your heart melted at the boyish smile plastered on ‘Charles' face.

“I've already said too much.” You say dramatically, hiding your face on his leg before you look up again.

“What about you, what does Charlie do?”

“Okay, but you've got to promise not to tell.” You silently nodded before taking his pinky finger in yours, he leans forward to whisper in your ear.

“I'm spiderman.” He smirks.

You pull away and gasp slightly, trying to keep it serious before you burst out in giggles.

“Why are you laughing?” He frowns at you, but you can see the smile behind his eyes.

“Shoot a web.” You demande though your laughs.

“I cant.”

“But your spiderman?” You whine at him.

Charles huffs as he sits up more, “It's the suit, it doesn't come out of me, duh.”

Your initial thoughts to this man was that he looked kinda sporty, like an athlete, a little bit cocky too, but the more time you spend with him the more you realize he's a literal nerd.

Your heart swelled as you wanted to spend more time with him, but you knew you had to get back to the villa soon.

“Thank you for trusting me with your secret Charles, but duty calls, i've just been made aware of a threat against the queen, i have to leave mykonos as soon as i can.”

You sit up but the boy gently grazes your legs.

“Wait, Maya.”

You stand up in the sand, looking down at the boy, especially his hand that was clutched around your knee.

“Meet me again tomorrow, please.” You thought about it for a moment, you leave in two days, and his company had made you smile more in the last few hours than you have in months.

“I can't make any promises, the jet leaves in an hour.”

“Well, the queen can wait, she's about to kick the bucket anyway. Tomorrow, should we say six?” You can't help but laugh at his comment.

“Where?” You ask him, watching how he lets out a sigh of relief at your answer.

“The caster hotel.”

“I'll see what i can do, spiderman.”

“But you were fine this morning?” Lando questions as he follows you through the hallway.

“That's because I didn't feel sick this morning, and now I do.” You huff.

“Why don't you want to come?” He leans in the doorway to the room you were staying at, he knew you weren't ill, but he would never suspect you sneaking out to meet a man whose name you still don't know.

“I just don't.” You sat on the bed, your arms folded as your dressing gown was tightly wrapped around you, hiding the dress you had on underneath.

“Are you depressed?” He cocked his head to the side, a questionable look on his face.

“Lando, for fuck sake, i have a headach, and your making it worse!”

“You left the bar early yesterday y/n, and you don't want to come again today? After everything you've put me through, sorry that I'm worried about you.” His words hurt, but not as much as the time on your phone that read 5:46.

“You don't need to worry about me.” You mumbled.

“But I do, I'm your older brother?”

You sigh before raising your head to look at your brother.

“I'm fine, just please let me have the night to myself.”

“No.”

It was times like this where you felt like just crying, crying until the floor swallowed you up. It was currently 6:22, you were sitting in bed with lando. You were both watching old love island episodes with some snacks that were left in the fridge. Lando canceled on his mates for dinner, meaning you couldn't sneak out and see charles. You were going home tomorrow, and the chances of bumping into your mystery man were slim, but you let it go. Guess it wasn't meant to be.

Part two will be posted on 16/7/22

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