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wispystar · 2 years

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☁︎·̩͙✧

sirius black ii

✦ = finished | ✧ = not finished

Link to Wattpad stories —> sirius black | fic recs (not oneshots)

also these list started out just for me so a lot of them don’t have trigger warnings! I’ll try to find time to go in and put them!

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blurbs/imagines

apparition accident by @mediocre-daydreams

genre: fluff, fem reader, marauders era | summary: sirius accidentally apparates into your bed instead of his.

about what i said last night. by @rainandhotchocolate

genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, after hogwarts | summary: reader and Sirius are in a heated argument bc Sirius keeps flirting with other girls. Reader gets called out on a mission for the order and as she storms out Sirius shouts something like “I hate u” (or something similar) and then the reader gets a severely injured on the mission for the order and when she comes back Sirius is freaking out and they apologise and make up

Brutal by @lupinpotterblack

genre: angst, marauders era | summary: The reader has no idea what it is like to be Sirius Black.

bet by @fuckmymunson

genre: angst, fem reader, marauders era | summary: reader finds out sirius only started dating her for a bet but she doesn’t take him back? like he admits to what happened and says he actually ended up falling for her but she decides to leave him anyways?

Chills and a… dog? by @slytherbun

genre: fluff, marauders era | summary: Sirius uses his animagus dog form to follow you and helps lead you back to Hogwarts along the way.

Dealbreaker by @heartshapedimagine

genre: fluff, muggle(?)! reader, after hogwarts, no voldy moldy(?) | summary: you work in a bookstore. sirius keeps finding reasons to need books. | notes: I really like this one! It’s very cute and everything I could ask for in a Sirius fic :)

dog person . ii by @ddejavvu

genre: fluff, fem reader, animagus! reader, marauders era | summary: imagine the readers animagus is a cat but only sirius knows. so the others just keep seeing sirius with this cat and hes always playing with it, like the cats always purring on his lap and they're just so confused because he hates cats?? and its just yours and sirius' way of just being together without having them all make fun of you both. i just think that's so cute

excuse my french by @moonstruckme

genre: fluff, fem! reader, marauders era | summary: Could you maybe do Siri speaking to the reader in French and they don’t understand french maybe they think it’s dirty or something. But he’s being incredibly sweet and talking about how much he loves them but he won’t tell them what it means ahh

Just my type by @pmparker

genre: fluff, marauders era | summary: After talking with your friends about what you look for in a guy, Sirius starts looking a bit familiar.

His little songbird by @velvetcloxds

genre: fluff, soulmate au, marauders era | summary: Soulmates can hear each other when they're singing and Sirius Black has found himself a little songbird.

Home by @glasschampagne

genre: fluff, kinda angst(?), fem reader, hufflepuff reader, reader is tonks and Charlie’s age, time travel au, marauders, hogwarts, and golden era | summary: where the reader travels back in time accidentally, then Sirius helps her go back, but they fall in love in the process?

heartache by @vaudel

genre: fluff, tiny angst, fem! reader, nurse! reader, golden era | summary: Sirius Black wakes up in a hospital after the battle of department of mysteries and falls for his nurse, Y/N. | tw/warnings: loss of memory, hospitals

just like magic by @/moonstruckme

genre: fluff, gn reader, muggle reader, established relationship | summary: whimsical muggle reader who loves taking note of strange occurrences (i swear my shoes weren't here! like luna basically lol) and marauder bf who can't tell her yet about magic but loves doing some tricks for her to find.

I didn’t lie when I told you I loved you by @mystic-writings

genre: fluff, angst, potter! Reader, marauders era | summary: Y/n Potter was never noticed by anyone– except Sirius Black. James is unhappy at their growing feelings and decides to sabotage the relationship before it even starts.

I Found Love Where I Wasn’t Supposed To Be by @deskofninak

genre: fluff, tiny angst, rivals to lovers, evans! reader (cousins), gn reader, marauders era | summary: ‘The handshake was tense and it seemed like the whole of Diagon Alley was holding its breath.’ Sirius Black has just entered into a truce with you, calling an end to your rivalry of many years. This is mainly on Lily and James’ insistence because those two would like to be able to snog each other without their best friends fighting. And so a tenuous friendship begins that just might blossom into something more.

Love potion by @dragonologist-in-the-making

genre: fluff, tiny angst, potter! Reader, marauders era | summary: Can I request a Sirius Black scenario with ravenclaw reader who is james’ Sister where Reader ends up accidentally drinking or consuming a love potion that the marauders made as a joke for James and the first person she sees is Sirius. Sirius is enjoying the attention because he’s liked you for a while but James can’t handle seeing you all over Sirius.

lies & bets by @siriusblackswhcre

genre: angst, fluff, fem! reader, marauders era | summary: you find out something. and it certainly isn't good.

love letter by @enviedear

genre: fluff, gn! reader, marauders era | summary: you guys have been best friends for the longest time and he ends up sending you a letter confessing his love for you. he doesn’t sign the letter though, he does this so you wonder who it might be. you talk to him about how exciting it is to have a secret admirer and he just smiles the whole time knowing it’s him

Maybe I Didn’t Lose After All by @shaynawrites23

genre: pure fluff, marauders era | summary: distracting Sirius from chess with a kiss

Mutual pining by @lupinpotterblack

genre: fluff, modern au, text fic | summary: you and Sirius both like each other but Sirius thinks you hate him

May I have this dance? by @robynlilyblack

genre: fluff, fem! reader | summary: The group has to practice for dance class, while Lily and Sirius are naturals, James and y/n unfortunately are not

Make you mine by @patrophthia

genre: fluff, slight angst, gn(?) reader | summary: it’s hard having crushes, it’s even harder when you’re someone who’s on the shyer side crushing on someone as popular as sirius black; good things lily evans has it in herself to play a little bit of matchmaker!

Not a big deal . two by @sarahisslytherin

genre: fluff, dad! Sirius, no Azkaban | summary: In which Dad!Sirius finds out your daughter has her first boyfriend and insists on having him over.

No longer so secret by @fieldofdaiisies

genre: fluff, angst, marauders era | summary: Sirius Black accidentally reveals your secret relationship, you are not so happy about it

oh my lonely heart . ii by @bigvogues

genre: fluff, angst, marauders era | summary: you’re in love with Sirius Black, the biggest flirt Hogwarts has ever seen. Unfortunately, he doesn’t seem to feel the same way.

Prongs’ baby sister by @sirisuorionblack

genre: fluff, potter! reader, marauders era | summary: You were just Prongs' sister. Atleast that's what Sirius said to supress his feelings but one ball and a few conversations with his best friends proved him wrong.

Pretense by @paracsms

genre: fluff, tiny angst, fem! reader, marauders era | summary: when sirius finds himself with girl troubles, he enlists your help

shy by @bettysupremacy

genre: fluff, fem reader, drunk reader, established relationship | summary: to shake things up a little, what about remus, sirius, or james with a s/o who's [ somehow ] more outgoing and boisterous than them? and she's always flaunting their relationship, her adorable boyfriend, and says the most genuine compliments out of nowhere both to him and other people and it's got him all shy and blushy such

Stolen moments by @turning-dreams-into-chaos

genre: fluff, angst, potter! Reader, marauders era | summary: hiding your relationship from your brother makes you have second thoughts of Sirius actually loves you

Secret by @happyyyandcrazyyy

genre: angst, fluff, hidden friendship, no voldy moldy, marauders & life after hogwarts. | summary: (Y/N) (Y/L/N) has known Sirius Black since they were kids, being part of the sacred twenty-eight and coming from elitist pureblood families meant that they had shared uncomfortable reunions and awkward dinners for as long as they could remember. Once in Hogwarts Sirius makes it well known that he’s everything his parents are not and (Y/N) is forced to follow into her family’s steps. They shouldn’t be friends, but they are. After all, (Y/N) knows him better than he knows himself and Sirius is the only one that sees through her façade of a perfect daughter. They are best friends, maybe something more, but it must remain a secret.

Separated by @v1oletvenus

genre: fluff, fem! Reader, marauders era | summary: you went away for the weekend, and sirius misses you while you're not at hogwarts.

Such a gentleman by @natashxromanovf

genre: fluff, gn! reader, after hogwarts | summary: meeting Sirius for the first time in a coffee shop and he thinks you're cute so he buys your coffee for you

Wherever You Go, I Go by @ardentmuse

genre: angst, fluff, marauders era | summary: A note from your mother forces you to blow up at your boyfriend Sirius. Still determined to support you, Sirius enlists the help of his furrier side.

Welcome home by @15-dogs

genre: fluff, gn! reader, golden era(?), no voldy moldy(?) summary: you run into your ex sirius with his godson at the store after not seeing him for five years

Walking in a Winter Wonderland by @curseofaphrodite

genre: fluff, fem reader, muggle reader, established relationship, after hogwarts | summary: the holiday season always comes with stories, some more surprising than the others.

Your dog by @wreckofawriter

genre: fluff, angst, marauders era | summary: when Sirius astragalus to turn from a dog to human he finds himself drawn to you

12 lonely years . ii by @myfictionaldreams

genre: fluff, angst, fem! reader, innocent Sirius but still follows the canon story, golden era | summary: Your husband, Sirius Black was finally a free man, cleared of all of his charges and he was coming home to you and Harry. But the dark thoughts spiraled through your mind, you couldn't help but wonder if he even loved you anymore so you shut him out. What happens when Sirius finally snaps after you get hurt. | tw/warnings: self harm, blood, depression, anxiety attacks, self-destructive behaviour

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✦ Incident with a time turner by @robynlilyblack

genre: angst, fluff, golden era | summary: When a confrontation with Peter goes wrong, y/n Potter is sent 10 years into the future

✧ Promises Left Behind . ii by @moim0i

genre: angst, slight fluff, fem reader, gryffindor reader, marauders era | summary: Sirius Black and Y/N L/N have been betrothed to each other since birth, a way to reunite and strengthen the blood of house Black and house L/N. Sirius loved Y/N with all his heart and promised her and himself that he'd protect her as long as he lived. After a nasty argument with his mother, Regulus wasn't the only thing Sirius left that night.

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Wattpad

Don’t pretend then by @/

genre: fluff, golden era | summary: you end up staying with Sirius and fall for him. He rejects you but later realizes he loves you after he sees Charlie and you together | notes: part of a one shot book

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AO3

The witch who waited by @/Nellblazer

genre: angst, golden era | summary: Sirius reconnects with you after escaping Azkaban and rekindles the love you used to share.

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Quotev

Love-stricken fool by @/Bubbles

genre: fluff, golden era | summary: You had been in a relationship with Sirius before he was sent to Azkaban, having gone to school with the marauders. You read in the paper that he has broken out and your old feelings stir up. You can’t help yourself from going to look for him

#harry potter #harry potter fic rec #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x oc

192 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

CTRL+ALT+DECEIT

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; oral, fucking, stalking, hacking, threats, implied violence.

This is dark!Jake Jensen x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You find your pictures on someone else’s Insta but that’s not the only thing he’s stolen.

Note: Yay, another Jensen fic at last. I’m probably gonna try to work in more one shots between my series. I’m looking at Andy Barber, Ransom Drysdale, or Lee Bodecker right now for next week but we’ll see.

Thanks to everyone for sticking around and putting up with me and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The chirp of the chat pierced your eardrum once more as you ignored it for the spreadsheet of dates on your other monitor. Working from home could be both peaceful and distracting but the third bing had you muting and pushing your headset to your neck with a grumble. You switched windows as the chat box blinked.

‘So why didn’t u tell me u had a bf?’ Zia’s bubble blipped up followed by impatient emojis.

“Wat r u talking bout?’ you typed back and clicked back to the spreadsheet to update the status of each course. That noise came again and you flipped back.

‘I’m not stupid! Come on. He’s far away but he’s cute.’

You frowned and tapped the space bar lightly. You were utterly confused. The only activity in your daily life were the general notifications from Tindr. You repeated the question and she sent an emoji rolling its eyes.

‘I’m serious.’ you replied.

She sent a link and then a laughing GIF attached to another bubbled response, ‘I’m not buyin it.’

You clicked on the hyperlink and a new tab opened. You scrolled down on the Insta as the air was knocked out of you at the sight of your own face. Not only were their pics taken from your public profile but several you’d never even posted. Your skin crawled and the bing sounded again.

‘So… an online thing huh.’ Zia pressed on.

‘I gotta work.’ you closed out of the window entirely but stayed on the Insta.

You scrolled through about a dozen or so selfies of you, each labeled as ‘missing my lady’ or ‘she’s so sweet, sending me pics to keep me company’. Your stomached roiled with mortification and the unsettling sensation of intrusion. It was easy enough to guess you’d been hacked but to think this was what the creep did with it was even more startling.

You changed the password on your Insta and went through the process of doing so with all of your accounts and ran a scan on your PC. You would likely have to file a ticket for a proper inspection with a specialist. You couldn’t help but shake as you went back to the profile after checking your bank account and PayPal to make sure it wasn’t worse than just pics.

You went back to the profile and found photos of the culprit. His spiky blond hair and glasses were unsurprising and his comic book tee shirt was even less. Your disgust was quickly replaced with anger as you hit the chat icon above his info.

‘Hey, jackass, care to tell me how you have my photos on your profile?!’

The read icon appeared almost and you saw him typing. It stopped and then started again.

‘You’re so beautiful, I wanted to share it with everyone.’

You scoffed at the message and cringed at the screen. ‘Are you nuts? Like actually. You stole my photos! You hacked me. Creep.’

You blocked him immediately after hitting send and logged out. You opened Excel again and tried to focus on the coloured cells. You could hardly process what you were doing as your phone began to vibe on the corner of your desk. It didn’t let up and you couldn’t focus past the incessant buzzing.

You snatched it up and several messages covered the screen as you unlocked it. ‘You really think that’s gonna work’; ‘You can’t block me’... several in a similar vein that you deleted before blocking the number. You silenced your phone and turned back to your monitor.

Suddenly the screen went black and you blinked. You hit the keyboard and clicked, assuming it fell asleep. It lit up again but all you saw was yourself staring back. Your mouth fell open and you ripped the clip-on cam from atop your monitor. You disconnected it as the notepad opened and typing flicked up across the white space.

‘I didn’t want it to be like this.’

You could move the mouse or backspace. All control was lost and you sat there helplessly watching the scrawl.

‘I think we’d be really good together if you only gave me a chance. Can’t you see I worship you?’

Your phone began to shake constantly and a private number flashed. You picked it up and hollered into the speaker, “leave me alone”. You hung up but it kept on and your screen turned to black once more. Your PC was still on but there was no reaction from the machine.

Fuck, you sat back and looked at your phone. You couldn’t even call work to tell them because the damn thing wouldn’t stop ringing. You put your head in your hands and grunted in frustration. How the fuck did all this happen?

🖱️

After your initial panic died down, you disconnected your tower and shut off your phone. You left your cell behind as it was just as useless. You hauled the PC down to IT at your work and filled out the ticket without giving intricate details on everything the weirdo had taken.

You left with a borrowed laptop. You wouldn’t sign into your personal accounts and stick to the company portal. You were embarrassed but happy to have a temporary solution. You got home and set up the new computer and reconfigured your wi-fi. You finished the last of the day’s work and ended the day with a glass of wine.

When you dared to turn your phone on again the next morning, it was filled with notifications from all platforms but each one you clicked on errored and prompted you to sign-in. All your new passwords were wrong and you knew it was him.

You checked the Insta and found a screenshot on his profile from the day before, your mouth agape in horror that could easily mistaken for surprise.

‘Her face when you pop the question on the call’. The caption made your stomach curdle and you nearly flung the phone away. You couldn’t comment without logging in or message. So you created a shell account with a throwaway email you used on Reddit.

‘Why won’t you stop?’ you sent the message through as you waited for your coffee to brew.

‘Stop what?’ he added a winky face with his reply and you growled.

‘You know who this is! Why are you doing this?’

‘Hmmm…’ he let the message hang there and you sat down with your mug and listened to the birds outside. ‘Imagine what someone else would do with everything I have.’

‘Look at what you’re doing. You’re ruining my life.’

‘Ruining? Sweetie, I’m watching over you. Protecting you.’

Your nostrils flared and you burnt your tongue on the coffee and planted it on the table so it sloshed over the sides.

‘Love you, sweetie. See ya soon.’

The chat box turned grey as you realised he blocked you. That pissed you off more than anything and you lobbed your phone away with a shout of anguish. This guy was fucked!

You were shaking so much you couldn’t even drink your coffee. You got up and paced until you could think straight. You dialed into work and told them you were taking the day off for a personal emergency and shut down your phone. You were too afraid he would find a way onto your work laptop and you didn’t want to have to explain that to IT too.

🖱️

Zia showed up on Saturday and she wasn’t happy. She buzzed up and banged on your door impatiently. You let her in and she crossed her arms over the strap of her purse as she crooked her hip.

“I know I shouldn’t have snooped but if you’re mad at me, you should’ve just said so. I would’ve backed off,” she scowled.

“I’m not mad,” you said as you backed into the front room and dragged your feet over the rug.

“Sure, you’re just ignoring all my messages by accident,” she stayed at the other side of the room.

“Not exactly, no,” you shrugged, “it’s a long story.”

“And you couldn’t shoot me a message to say that at least?”

“Look, I’m stressed the fuck out. I’m sorry but the only reason I didn’t answer you is because I can’t.”

“You can’t?”

“I can’t even turn my phone on anymore.”

“What--”

“Just--” you touched your temples, “I don’t even know how to explain--”

“Jesus, are you okay?” her anger slaked away as her voice softened.

“No, I’m not,” you sniffed, “I’ve been trapped in this apartment and I can’t think straight and I can’t even talk to anyone because my phone and my life is totally fucked.”

“How about we get a coffee and you can tell me once you’ve calmed down,” she said, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so worked up.”

“You don’t know how bad it is. I really fucked up,” you whined, “I don’t even know how it happened.”

“Is this about the boyfriend?”

You huffed and shook your head, “I told you, he’s not my boyfriend-- Let me get dressed.”

After you felt presentable enough to leave the apartment, the thought of getting away ushered you down the winding stairwell and onto the sidewalk. You and Zia walked down to the cafe on the corner where you always overspent on their specialty drink and caught up.

You ordered but when you tried to use your card, the machine beeped in rejection. You tried again but still no luck. Zia offered to pay and you promised you’d pay her back. Anxiety pitted deep in your stomach as you sat. You’d have to call the bank and figure out why eight dollars would bounce.

“So,” Zia said as she shaded her eyes against the sunlight streaming onto the open patio, “he’s not your boyfriend?”

“I don’t even know the dude,” you hissed as you almost overturned your cup, “Zee, those pictures, they were all on my phone. I never sent them to anyone. I don’t even know his real name and when I confronted him, he crashed my whole system and blew up my phone. I haven’t been able to log into anything because of him.”

“You’re shitting me,” she chuckled.

“Zee, I’m not fucking kidding,” you blinked, “don’t you think if I was dating some dude out in who knows where, you’d be the first to know? You think I’m wasting my time with the idiots on Tindr for fun?”

“No way,” she scoffed.

“Zia, look me in the eye,” you said as you gave her a stern look, “I’m freaking the fuck out.”

“Did you call the police?” she asked.

You sat back and closed your eyes. You were so swept up in the panic, you hadn’t even thought. You could report it to the police, just get a record of it even if they didn’t do anything else. You heard horror stories of hackers and how little could be done but you had to at least try.

“I guess I should go down to the station today,” you ran your fingertips along your chin, “I don’t know, I felt so alone, I thought--”

“And call your bank right now,” she slid her phone over, “figure out what’s going on with your accounts.”

You took her cell and dialed the number on the back of the card. You dragged your finger down the side of your cup as you listened to the automated message and hit the buttons to direct you to customer service. The hold song bubbled in your head and finally picked up as you finished the last of your mocha.

You explained the issue after giving your information as Zia sat patiently across from you. She watched the other patrons and looked out across the street as you waited on the representative on the other end.

“Looks like your account has been locked. Your savings and checking have been placed on hold citing possible fraud,” the woman explained.

“Well, can’t you unlock them? Why would they be flagged?”

“Hmm, well I see no suspicious spending so possibly… it could be due to an external lock, not us.”

“What does that mean?”

“I can’t speak to that. Have you received any communications from the Revenue service?”

“Revenue service? I don’t--no,” you gulped.

“I’m sorry, there’s nothing else I can tell you,” she said, “you should consider contacting federal services.”

You hung up and handed Zia her phone back. “Apparently, I’m under investigation for fraud? I don’t know.”

“Shit,” she took her cell, “are you sure?”

“It sounded like it but-- I gotta check my credit card,” you stood and grabbed your empty cup and your purse.

You stormed down the street to the ATM at the corner and inserted your card. LOCKED the machine made a hideous noise and you pulled out your card in irritation. You put your wallet and touched the sides of your neck as the heat swelled through you.

“I don’t understand--”

“Um, you should see this,” Zia said.

Zia turned her screen towards you and your heart dropped to your toes. There was a picture softened by a blush Insta filter and the caption read, ‘just got into town, surprising bae with flowers’. Over the cluster of petals at the bottom of the image were you and Zia sitting at the cafe patio.

You spun and searched around for any sign of the man and the bouquet. You could hardly breath as it felt like you were being squished between invisible walls. You clapped your hand against the wall and steadied yourself as Zia gently rubbed your arm.

“Let’s go to the station,” you croaked as tears welled in your eyes, “please.”

🖱️

The police told you everything you expected. Even as you showed them the photos and explained how you never met that man in your life, they only offered you words on a piece of paper. They’d file the report and follow-up in case of any further escalation. It was a non-answer, a cold shrug.

Zia went home with you as she offered to stay the night. You gladly accepted and the two of you cozied up on your bed and spent the night watching early 00s rom coms. You found it hard to relax even with her there. You couldn’t stop thinking about how close he’d been without you even knowing.

You at last began to doze off as Reese Witherspoon triumphed and exhausted by the endless maelstrom of dread, you slipped into a deep but perilous sleep. You were locked in limbo between waking and slumber, almost as if you could hear everything around you but remained blind and unknowing all the same.

You woke with a start as you felt like you were falling. You sat up and reached to the other side of the bed. Zia was gone. She must have got up to get water or use the bathroom. You took a breath and turned your legs over the edge. You got up groggily and lumbered across the room, your mouth dry and head aching. Some tylenol and water would do you well.

You hesitated as you noticed the bloom of light just around the corner from your doorway. Zia must be having trouble sleeping, you guessed as you kept on. As you came in sight of the front room, you heard a whimper and you backed up against the wall as tall figure stood before the coffee table. The flowers laid across the wood, slightly crumpled from a struggle.

As Zia whined, he jabbed her with his foot and she grunted around the rag tied around her mouth. Her arms and legs were bound behind her as the man loomed over her. You recognized his blond hair and glasses, the menacing blue eyes as he raised his chin and crossed his arms.

“Been waiting on you,” he stepped over her, “I was disappointed when I realised it was her. Good friend though, hanging around…”

“Don’t hurt her, please. What do you want?”

“You can’t figure that out?” he taunted, “huh, I’m sure you can guess what it will take for me to leave her in one piece.”

Zia wiggled and received another boot. You pushed yourself forward and he stepped closer, predatory as he dropped his arms and clenched then unclenched his fists. He chuckled as you stopped short and gaped up at him.

“She’s cute,” he said, “she can join us if that makes it easier for you.”

“You’re disgusting,” you snarled and winced as he reached out to touch your cheek. You fought not to shove him away, your eyes on Zia’s bound figure.

“Play nice and I will,” he warned, “every time I hurt her, that’s on you. I wish I didn’t have to do this to show you how much I love you.”

You shook your head as your lip trembled. He pressed his palms to your cheek and ran his thumb along your lips. He leaned in and you cowered as you realised how big he was. You didn’t expect that looking at him from the other side of a screen.

“Do we put on a show for her or did you want a little privacy?”

“You won’t get away with this,” you hissed.

“Oh yeah? I locked you out of your social media, your pc, your bank… do you really want to see how far I can take this?”

He smothered your murmured answer with his mouth and kissed you gruffly. He pulled away and looked you in the eye. He bit his lip and hummed.

“So, do we do this here?”

“You’re sick,” you grabbed his hand and wrenched it away from your face. You yanked him and directed him to the bedroom, “you monster.”

“Now come on,” he twisted his wrist around and grabbed your elbow, “I could’ve killed her. Don’t think I won’t.”

You quivered as he forced you back into your bedroom, the street lights casting shadows between your curtains. He flung you ahead of him, as strong as his thick arms would suggest. You stumbled and caught yourself on the side of the bed. You turned as the door slammed and he prowled towards you like a wild cat.

“Well,” he threw his hands up and you caught a glint of light against the lens of his glasses, “you want me to undress you or you think you can handle that, sweetie?”

You puffed in repulsion and looked away from him. Even in the dark, you could feel his eyes on you. You jittered as you reached to the neck of your loose tee and slowly raised it over your head. You dropped it to crumple on the floor and you touched the top of your shorts. You heard him moving around and shied away as he flipped the switch and light shone across the room.

You pushed down your shorts as you heard a thump from the next room. His jaw twitched as his eyes lingered on you and he reluctantly glanced away. He swung the door open and stormed out into the front room. You went to the door and heard his snarl.

“Stop fucking moving,” he rasped, “every time I have to tell you, I’ll pop another out.”

Zia gave a muffled sob as you heard a sickly crack and you hurried to look around the wall into the room. He blocked your sight with his broad chest and pointed you back to the room.

“I didn’t say you could leave the room,” he spun you and slapped your bare ass, “fast, fast, fast… before I lose my patience.”

Your skin stung from the strike and you tripped through the doorway as he followed quickly. Another slam and he poked you further into the room with his knuckle. You stepped away from him and tried to cover yourself as you faced him in horror.

He quickly swooped his shirt over his head and revealed a buff chest thick with blond hair. He kicked off his shoes and fumbled to undo his fly. He tilted his head as he looked you over and groped himself through his jeans.

“You know what to do,” he said, “I’ve seen the way you touch yourself… cyber security 101, cover your webcam.”

You shuddered as he beckoned you closer. He stopped you and put your hands on the waist of his jeans. He leaned in and nuzzled your temple as his hot breath seeped into your goosebumped skin.

“My turn,” he pushed on your hands until you pulled down the denim on your own strength.

He stepped out of his jeans and snapped the elastic of his boxers. You stood and latched onto those shakily. He ran his fingers along your arms as you pulled them past his erection and they fell to the floor with a whisper. You didn’t look down, instead staring past him as his hand swept up to cup your tits.

His fingers crawled up your chest and his hands wrapped around your neck. He squeezed and turned you so that your back was to the bed. He marched you backwards as you felt his dick bobbing between your bodies. You gasped as he pushed you down onto your mattress, your legs dangling over the edge as he came up to straddle you.

“Such a good girl,” he taunted, “look at you… I bet you’re wet already.”

He pulled a hand away and stroked his length as he raised himself on his knees. He clung to your neck as he leaned over you and planted his hand on the bed above you. He hovered his dick over your head and you closed your eyes.

“Put it in your mouth,” he ordered, “now, or I’m putting it in your ass.”

You reached up blindly and angled his tip against your lips. He dipped his hips down and you choked as he prodded at your throat. Your legs twitched as he forced his cock past your gag reflex and your whole body tensed at the intrusion.

He balanced on the hand above your head and the one on your neck. He thrust harder and harder as sloppy sucking reverberated around the room between his dark groans.

“That’s it,” he purred, “look at you taking my cock. I can only imagine how tight that cunt of yours is.”

Your eyes welled and you flicked your lashes as you tried to bat them away. You kept your hand at the base of his dick as you tried to ease his motion. He ignored your reluctance and only delved deeper as he brought himself to his limit, your lips touching the fuzz along his pelvis.

When you couldn’t breath, you slapped his hard stomach and he reared out of you abruptly. You coughed up spit as he sat back on his heels and released you. He huffed as he looked down at his glistening dick and climbed off of you.

“Stand up, turn around,” he snarled as his eyes flashed.

His glasses were low on his nose and he slipped them off entirely and folded them up on your night table. He squinted as he watched you stand and turn stiffly. He smacked his hand in the middle of your back and pushed you over impatiently. He stepped closer and tapped his tip against your cunt as you were exposed to him.

He bent his legs and poked along your slick folds. You were wet enough for him to glide in and fill you up completely. He was so big it was painful and you arched your back as you tried to take it. He pulled back and slammed into you harshly. You let out a garble and he repeated the motion, taking you off your feet.

He leaned over you and grabbed your knees, lifting them on the bed as he urged you forward. His hand brushed up over your ass and he pressed between your shoulder blades until your face was flush to the mattress, your arms bent around you like a broken doll.

He thrust again and the loud slap made you wince. He jerked his hips roughly until he found his motion, rutting into you with hissy breaths as his other hand groped your ass. He hummed as your body shook before him, ruled by his touch as your walls clenched him.

He pushed his thumb down between your cheeks and circled your asshole. You strained and lifted your head in alarm. His other hand quickly stretched over your crown and pinned your face to the bed. He felt along your cunt and slickened his thumb before trailing back to your puckered ring.

He pushed lightly at first and as he broke through you gasped and whined. You gripped the blankets as he moved his thumb in and out of you, his hips still rocking steadily into you. He slid his thumb out entirely and prodded with two fingers instead. Before you could react, he forced them inside and you cried out in surprise and pain.

“I know you want it, sweetheart,” he groaned, “I can feel…” he kept fucking you, “I can fucking hear it.”

Your holes tightened around you as he carried the pace. A new pressure began to bloom inside of you, unlike anything you’d felt before. The burning in your ass and the stretching of your cunt mingled to an agonized bliss. You sobbed into the blankets as you came uncontrollably around him, shamed by the unwanted release.

“Fuck,” he drew out the word as both his hand and his hips sped up, “look at you cumming for me. Cumming for this creep.”

You moaned and curled your fingers around the duvet tighter. You felt the same knotting deep inside and you came again as he reached a tantamount. This time, you gushed around his cock and felt the deluge down your thighs as the noise grew wetter and louder.

“Look at you, sweetheart, you can’t handle it, can you?” He snorted as he sucked in a breath suddenly and his hips staggered.

He pushed his fingers deeper and kept them there as he fucked you as hard as he could. He slammed into your cunt over and over. Your hips throbbed with each tilt of his pelvis and you smothered your cries as you felt him coat your walls in his release.

He stopped just as suddenly and dragged his fingers out of your ass. He leaned against you until your legs collapsed and fell onto you with a sigh. He covered your body with his as his shallow breaths hazed around you.

Your own heart raced as you stretched your arms out stiffly and quivered. You tried to pull yourself from beneath him. He kept you pinned under his weight and jolted you with a cruel thrust.

“Oh, we’re not done, sweetheart,” he muttered along the shell of your ear, “not even close.”

#jake jensen #dark jake jensen #dark!jake jensen #jake jensen x reader #fic #dark!fic #dark fic #one shot #the losers #dc

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dasomlimie · 3 years

Note

mayhaps could you write some sanzu and rindou bf headcanons pls ur mitsuya one was so cute

%% SANZU AS YOUR BOYFRIEND #!/

character ; aged up!Sanzu Haruchiyo

a/n ; i only write one character for bf hc sorry ! in this hc Sanzu would be a normal person who leave his delinquent era, if we're talking about bonten!sanzu as your bf man i don't think it would be a healthy relationship 💀

sanzu as your boyfriend he would be that i hate everyone except you bf (?) or that soft bf you would die to protect him no in between OHHH OR THAT BF WHO IS VERY ELEGANT AND CALM BUT ACTUALLY A DORK

from how i see him, in the manga, ofc he's very loyal *cough*

in the beginning of your relationship, he would actually treat you like sort of royalty

and is not much a talker he love to listen more than talking so most of the times he would listen to your little rant with his closed eye smile

when he loosen up he would be a noisy boyfriend but in a good way like he open up to you telling you how was his day with Toman, how he dislike someone or something its actually very cute when he talk about something he dislike with that little frown and more can you imagine it? cuz i can

anyways you know how he always wear mask right? in the beginning of your relationship he would refuse to reveal his whole face you rarely see him without mask and sometimes he overthink what if one day you saw his scars and leave him

but when then when you accidentally walk into his room while he was not wearing mask he start panicking while you just stare then walk toward him cupping his face ignore all of his empty threat toward you

"woah is this how you look like without mask?" you said stare at him while he shut his eyes then feel you place a kiss on each of his scars, then he open his eyes, he noticed no sign of disgust nor any other negative emotion other than adoration he start to relax a smile appear on his face

"you're not disgusted?" he ask you frown heart a little hurt from his words "why would i be? you look absolutely stunning and beautiful and handsome with this scars damn you're even hotter with this scars" you gushes he giggle before shutting you up with his palm

HE HAVE THE PRETTIEST GIGGLE AND LAUGH EVER so its your goal to make him laugh :( because he rarely laugh even if you joke about something ( he only give you his closed eyes smile )

he's also very insecure of his scars so when you start praising and gushing how pretty his scars is he blush or have a smile on his face then shut you up when the compliment start to overwhelm him

he also let you braid his hair yk his hair is long right? he also didnt mind walking around with whatever hairstyle you made even with little butterfly clip and shinny clip he did not care if anyone dare to say anything he would beat them up yay!

date with him would either be a regular date or home date with both of you watching movie ( dont even ask this i feel like he prefer being indoor more than outdoor )

OHHHHH he let you dress him up in any type of clothes cuz Sanzu said "its just a clothes they doesn't have gender" yes Sanzu say it louder so the one at the back can hear you

anyways~~ he would also let you paint his nail only if you wear matching colour as him ( he didnt mind you paint his nail he just want to match with you tbh )

he's also the type that get you a matching bracelet and he would never take it off ever

he'll get sad when he saw you not wearing the bracelet but will never tell you he try to ignore it but end up asking you why you didn't wear it when you were cuddling

he's also very possessive, not in unhealthy way but in unhealthy way, he would always to tell anyone you're his and he's yours, either kissing you in public or have his hands around your waist or shoulder

he's just afraid you would leave him :( please reassure him you're not

anyways he's also be that type of boyfriend who get jealous easily but will never admit it but you'll always knew from how petty he is

"Haru are you jealous?"

"pfft no why in the hell i would be jealous?"

"then will you help me with this?"

"ask (random name) to help you"

"ok"

"wait no!-"

ok lets say the division captain, vice division captain, the president and vice president of Toman was very close with each other and have a scheduled hang out twice a month and they were allowed to bring their s/o

then when one of them *cough* Mucho ideas *cough* try to make him jealous just for fun and start taking your attention from him

then him noticed what they were doing and start bring you close to him glaring at them "she's mine dumbass find you own s/o" yk like that one horimiya scene this as preference how he and maybe Mikey or Baji or even Emma 'fight' over you

he love tickle fight!!! because he love to hear your laugh no matter how ugly you think your laugh is he would still think its beautiful

when cuddling he prefer being a small spoon but he didn't mind being a big spoon if you wanted him too but most of the time he want to be a small spoon because he love the feeling of feeling safe

what else let me think

oh he would be that type of boyfriend who bluntly turn anyone down or just ignore them if they tried to flirt with him then when he saw you he would have this adorable smile and jog toward you talking about how someone was annoying him *cough* that person who flirt with him *cough*

he would also be that type of boyfriend that need to touch you all the time when he's start to getting comfortable with you

his love languages are physical touch and act of service

he would be that yk type of boyfriend who literally drag you away from anywhere when he find put you overwork yourself like training or whatever you did because he doesn't want his precious s/o to get sick

speaking of getting sick he suprisingly have a low antibody (?) and always get sick especially during winter so he love it when you come over and take care of him

when holding hands he love to intertwine your hands together or holding one of your finger—like yk how babies hold your finger yeah that one idk how to explain— or both of you would link your pinkies together <33 so cute

love to have you on his lap while his head resting on your shoulder and both of his arm wrapped around your waist or shoulder he didn't mind your size

i think he's secretly a sweet tooth but will never admit it—i just got the vibe from his hair colour—he love it when you bring sweet for him

!%! © HNEULWH— i did not allow my work to be used or adapted in any form without my permission !#//

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers x reader #sanzu haruchiyo #sanzu x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers sanzu #sanzu headcanons

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hansoulo · 3 years

Text

whisper scarcely breathing

part four of “Pillar of Salt”

Pairing: Boba Fett/Princess!Reader (she/her pronouns, no Y/N)

Warnings: NC-17, NSFW, explicit language, mentions of canon-typical violence, fluff, hurt/comfort but without the hurt, bathing and/or being bathed, choking, female-receiving oral, loss of virginity, unprotected M/F intercourse

Word Count: 6.1k

Image Credit: (x) by @/365filmsbyauroranocte, not meant to be a representation of the reader

A/N: this one is for the boys with the boomin’ system 😩💦

༓ series masterlist ༓

The datapad that you’d left in the garden was thrust back into your possession one morning by the hurried hands of a maid. Truthfully, you had forgotten all about it. The mind, when faced with matters as pressing as the press of a mouth, tends to forget about inconsequential objects.

You’d never met the girl standing in front of you before, and she avoided your eyes while passing over the small screen. She seemed eager to be rid of it. You couldn’t say you blamed her. “‘S yours, miss. The bounty hunter said you’d lost it.”

Did he, now?

“Thank you,” you replied sincerely, careful not to let the datapad drop to the floor as you tucked it back into the deep brocade of your gown pockets. You didn’t have the wherewithal at first to ask her when he’d found it or found the time to return it. But you also didn’t have the common sense to keep your mouth shut. “Could I ask when he gave it to you?”

The servant ducked her head. “This morning, your Highness. I- I was in the loading bay when they left, think he was tryin’ to get a hold of you but didn’t have the time, told me- told me to keep quiet ‘bout it.” A bob of her throat signalled a nervous swallow. “Princess.”

Poor girl, you thought to yourself absentmindedly. Boba probably scared her half out of her wits.

“Really, I can’t thank you enough.” You touched a soft hand to the servant’s shoulder in an misguided attempt to soothe. She returned the action with a nervous smile, eyes still downcast and trying not to shy away.

You never realized how afraid they all were. Of you.

The realization made your tongue tangle in your throat, tripping over some lie about a fever and champagne-induced amnesia as explanation for your exchanges with a man so ill-acquainted.

Hopefully, the maid didn’t make a habit of gossip.

Hopefully, you stopped making a habit of Boba Fett.

⫸———————————————— ⫷

A chaincode, a datapad tracking number, and the rest of your life flashed in backlit neon. You silently cursed yourself for not putting an opening passcode on anything, including the datapad that you now held with slightly tremoring hands.

In your defense, it’s not like it held anything of interest. Mostly just holonovels and some pictures of things you found intriguing enough to want to paint or draw.

But now there was a thing of veritable interest stuffed into a new folder titled “Your Highness” and glowing in galactic basic.

BF-18378-3263827

You stared at the numbers until they morphed into a strong, stern-featured face, muddy in your imagination against the ink night invading your bedroom. Boba left his tracking number there for you. If you wanted to, you could use them to message him or comm him or leave a holoprojection message. Whenever you wanted. Right now, even.

When did he even find your datapad? Why he found it (and why he returned it with the aforementioned numerical contraband) was probably a more apt question.

There was quite a lot to think about. Best to take stock of the present moment, lest you lose your head and go completely mad. As if you hadn’t already.

The facts repeated themselves in a half-conscious mantra, screen slipping out of your hands and onto the pillow beside your head. Facts. Facts were good. What were the facts, again?

Boba Fett was arguably the most dangerous bounty hunter in the galaxy.

Boba Fett was not much of a talker.

Boba Fett was a piss-poor dancer.

And Boba Fett was an unfairly good kisser.

The beginning three points held little negative sway, with the first adding much more appeal than it should, the second a welcome relief, and the third being… sort of endearing.

It was on the last point that your mind lingered the longest.

You didn’t even realize you’d copied numbers into the screen’s communications system until its microphone crackled to life.

One breath, two breaths, stuck in your sleep-thick throat. No words from either side yet. Did you get the tracking code wrong? Maybe. Maybe.

Maybe you were dreaming already, imagining the wind outside to be the quiet, husky inhale that sounded from the other end of the receiver.

“Not falling asleep are we, princess?”

Your eyes shot open. “No. No, I’m…” the words croaked themselves out as you fought down a yawn, “I’m awake.” His low chuckle. “I called you didn’t I?”

“That you did,” Boba assented. Quiet amusement colored his accent. “And you called because…”

“I wanted to,” you said simply, without room for teasing. You were too sleepy to be ashamed of admitting you sought out his company, as foolish as doing so was. No use in hiding what both parties knew to be true.

He let out a noise of soft approval and it rumbled a pleasant sunburst between your ears. “You seem to want a lot of things, don’t you?”

Makes me want… want…

Want what, Princess?

Want you.

You can have me.

The memory snaked a fever flush down your neck, over the still-tender skin and lightly mottled marks. Boba was remembering it just as well as you were. You knew he was.

It gave you a rush, a weird sort of power trip. Because as stupid as you felt doing this, wanting this, he wanted it too. Enough to let your hands thread through his hair and around his arms, then to the scar above his left brow and across his mouth. Enough to let you do it again at the risk of being caught. Enough to leave you his tracking number, like you were two teenagers trading love letters and not legal adults with judgement better enough to do otherwise.

You stayed on the comm for two hours, and only went to sleep because Boba threatened to cut your link off if you didn’t.

⫸———————————————— ⫷

It had been almost five standard months since the first time you’d spoken. Typed words continued to be exchanged under your covers, day after day, night after night. Sometimes you’d fall asleep talking, peppering him with questions about his ship and his job until your throat ached with the effort of keeping yourself awake. Sometimes you did more than talk.

He never fell asleep. Never seemed to sleep, period.

What a strange man. Strange, dangerous, interesting man.

You often missed each other by a hair’s breadth. Courtly flurry and galactic bounty hunting didn’t make much space for private conversation. Boba was still taciturn. You were still naive.

And yet…

You liked him. He listened when you talked about botany and painting, neither of which you imagined interested him. He was arrogant and cocky and insufferable sometimes, but he listened. He told you about his job and regaled your sheltered curiosity with lurid, gory details. He told you about his father.

And one day he somehow, miraculously, had a set of Nabooan watercolors left for you in the garden.

Biting down a juvenile grin with every new message, you watched the quiet ping! of the datapad.

Hello

are you busy?

In a way

how so

Had a brush with Hutt’s rancor

poor thing

Don’t get soft on me now

wasn’t talking about you

Very funny

I’m very, very sorry

Should be. The bastard nearly tore up my flight suit

… show me?

⫸———————————————— ⫷

BF-18378-3263827 HAS ATTACHED 3 FILES

⫸———————————————— ⫷

HOLOCALL DURATION: 02:45:35 HOURS

SAVE CALL RECORDING? PRESS YES/NO TO CONFIRM

Your damp hands tremored.

YES

⫸———————————————— ⫷

Six months, four days, and 20 hours. That’s how long it took for you to see Boba Fett again.

You’d started to think the entire ordeal was a mirage, an illusionary experience your brain conjured up for you as a one-time brush with what your life could have been. Who it could’ve been with.

But you did see him again. Foolhardy, reckless, and unplanned.

You didn’t listen to his explanation about having to leave in the morning, taking some third-rate bounty as an excuse to come back to Quas Killam for the first time in what seemed like ages—practically eons since his mouth had last been at your neck. He appeared on your bedroom balcony near midnight like an apparition, mounted by a still-burning jetpack that shut off with an arc of smoke.

You’d been sleeping, albeit fitfully, and woke the minute his knuckles rapped against the glass. You didn’t remember ever telling him where your bedchambers were, but given… everything… you couldn’t say you were surprised he knew. When he crouched down to shed the helmet, it made a soft thump on the plush carpet.

And then you kissed. And kissed. And kissed.

Boba’s fingertips dragged fire across your prickled skin with every pass. Whose breathing was whose didn’t matter. It was hard, heaving, and shared. Eyes closed, lips raw, every part of you dizzy. Dizzy.

The sneeze that left you was loud enough to knock his forehead against yours. Hard.

Feet stumbling until your legs hit the bedspread, you let your weakened knees carry you down into a sitting position atop the covers and tried to catch your breath. Boba only chuckled, seemingly unperturbed by the mild injury.

Of course your body had picked today to come down with a cold. And of course you’d forgotten to tell him.

In your defense (you seemed to do a lot of self-defending these days) you didn’t know Boba would be coming tonight. When you asked him a week ago—the last time you’d spoken—he’d said “soon.” Whatever “soon” meant, you hadn’t anticipated it being now. Your rumpled nightgown and deteriorating personal hygiene was evidence enough of that.

The day had passed in fitful naps, with you waving away all attempts at help until the servants who usually tittered about decided to give you a wide berth until tomorrow. They’d left the door locked and your curtains drawn, thank the gods.

“A hello would’ve been nice,” you mumbled. The lingering taste of him in your mouth mixed with the bitter medicine that you’d forced down a few hours ago.

Boba didn’t answer at first, only stalking forward with his silhouette glowing in light of the full moon. You brought your knees up to your chest to make room for him to stand in front of you. Every movement was bathed in slowness, in the reverence of caution and night-time silence.

His gloved hand brushed against your chin and tilted it upwards, thumb rubbing a small circle into your jawbone as he moved your face in one large grip. Left, inspecting a swollen mouth and puffy eyes, then right. Up to see the column of your exposed neck. Down to meet his bare, dark face.

He kissed you again, more gentle this time. “Hello.”

A soft whimper left your throat.

Oh, you hated it. Hated the way you sounded when he touched you, small and pathetic. Needy.

The balustrade doors were still open, and this fact was made known by a particularly biting gust of silver wind.

“You’re cold,” the man standing close to you noted with a deep downquirk of his mouth. Boba never had to conceal anything; his helmet did that for him. But when it was off, every thought flickered past his face in evening technicolor.

Your hands paused in their run up your arms to hold petulantly at your elbows, covered only by the thin fabric of your shift. Goosebumps rose against your neck with a new breeze and you fought down the urge to shiver. “M’not.”

“And stubborn.”

You glared at him, but it held no real venom.

“I appreciate the concern,” you sniffled again and your body trembled slightly. “But I’m the picture of health. I really have never been—” here you sneezed rather violently, crumbling any remaining sense of composure and making the final words thick with congestion, “—any better.” Boba hooked two strong arms underneath your knees and around your shoulders. “Wh- what are you doing?”

“C’mon,” Boba grunted and lifted you to his chest in one swift, easy motion. “Up.”

“I’m already up,” you grumbled, a headache you’d thought was all but gone now throbbing from the quick movement. Armor pressed to your cheek and you let yourself go pliant, curling up into Boba’s broad chest. He smelled nice. Like the outdoors. The real outdoors—not manufactured gardens or stone courtyards. No, dangerous things. Like deserts and leather and guns.

You queried him as he walked in long strides across the room. “Where are you taking me? Should have you—” another sneeze burned your airways, “—have you arrested for treason. A high crime or misdemeanor of some sort, kidnapping royalty...”

He only scoffed, shifting your slack body into his one-armed grip when he arrived at the entrance of your adjunct refresher. The door opened with a soft click. “You talk too much.”

Your head rolled back to face him, pressed so close already that the attempt made you cross-eyed. “And you,” a polished finger jabbed lightly at his chest plate, “are up to no good.”

You were only joking, but Boba didn’t deny it.

Green was your favorite color, even before you met him. It was the color of gardens. Of mint leaves. Of insects and jewels. Of him.

Gods, he was beautiful. Did he know that? Would he ever believe you if you told him? He was achingly, painfully, humanly beautiful. It hurt like needles.

The man set you down to your immediate protests. Funny how quick you seemed to change your mind. “Don’t whine,” he chided when you did just that, pushing you forward by the small of your back.

You walked into the refresher confused, that same confusion compounding when Boba strode over to the marble bathtub in room’s center with a surety that belayed the fact he’d never once stepped foot inside here. Were all bounty hunters this self-assured? Or was he just so full of bathroom bravado that your sprawling floor-plan didn’t faze him?

Whatever the case was, said bounty hunter was now crouched down on the tile floor and twisting the tub faucets until they sprayed out a gush of hot water, quickly filling the room with heady steam.

“Hot water helps.” A still-gloved hand dipped an inch into the filling tub and deemed it acceptable. “The steam’ll clear up those sneezes of yours. And the headache.”

“How did you know I-” your mouth opened and closed before you realized you didn’t do a great job of hiding your symptoms. Maker knows you looked a sight, all mussed and tired and sticky with cold sweat. He should make a run for it now, you half-joked to yourself. He’s only ever seen me stuffed into a corset and done up half to death.

He got up with a grunt and turned back towards you. Beskar and durasteel and tactical fabric suddenly made you feel, for the first time in your life, underdressed. “‘S not hard to tell, princess.”

“Oh,” was your only response as you pushed off the sink counter, fisting the fabric of your nightgown in an unconscious display of hesitancy.

Boba’s heavy boots made for the door.

It was probably just to leave you some semblance of privacy, but you panicked, not wanting to be left alone now that he was finally here. “Wait!” you burst out, reaching a palm onto his shoulder before he could exit. “Wait. Can— can you stay?” Of course he won’t stay, you dolt. He probably came to sleep with you, not babysit you. “Please?”

Both of his hands curled into themselves when he turned back to you, their leather squeaking in the tight flex. Then, they released limp by his sides. Each word was carefully measured, slow-simmering like a pot about to boil over. Like a trigger finger twitchy on a blaster. “If you want me to.”

You answered with a bobbing nod and a swallow. “I do.”

⫸————————————————⫷

Boba Fett had long since forgotten he was a man. Instead, he was armor. He was a code, a set of strict (albeit grey) morals, the steadfast honor he’d been imbibed with from the years with his father and then the years of tearing emptiness after.

Bounty hunters had no time for attachments. They couldn’t afford to humor every batting eyelash with more than a self-serving flirtation, and he’d had his fill of those already. He’d overflowed his cup ten times over with shallow pleasantries and quick release.

But those days were long-gone. Had been for years now. Now he was practically puritanical.

Had been, anyway.

He didn’t like thinking of himself as impulsive, wanting to leave the trait behind in his younger years but not being old enough to shake it off completely. But he wasn’t impulsive anymore. He wasn’t.

You were going to destroy him.

Low-ranking royalty on some Imperial-occupied factory planet; sheltered and pretty. You had the brightest eyes he had ever seen and a temperament that took no prisoners, and you were going to destroy him.

Boba thought you’d make him leave, but you didn’t. You wanted him to stay and told him so.

So he stayed. His armor was peeled off in your presence for the first time— carefully placed on a chair in your bedroom—and he walked back into the refresher to see you untying your flimsy nightdress like it’d done you a personal wrong.

When it dropped beside your feet, it took every ounce of self-control Boba possessed to stop himself from eating you whole.

He heard you kick it to the floor (his eyes had since been very determinedly fixed on a fascinating piece of groutwork near his left foot) before you stepped into the bath, sighing in a way that made breathing a work harder than it should’ve been.

His looking away wasn’t a request on your part, you didn’t seem to mind either way, but he didn’t trust himself to do otherwise. Not until the sounds of splashing had subsided somewhat, signalling your stilled motion. “Boba?”

Now there was permission to walk. Look down. Right foot, left foot. Right foot, left foot. Right foot, the clawfoot of the bathtub. He had reached his destination.

A wet hand tugged at his belt loops and he finally allowed himself to look, meeting the sight of you sitting bare in the clear-blue water with legs pulled up to your chest. The arm not touching him was roped around your calves. Your chin rested on the wide, curved lip of the tub.

If Boba had any self-respect, it had been snuffed out the first moment you opened your mouth, six months ago in that cavernous palace hallway with your failed attempt at bravado. It was haughty, short-lived, and adorable.

Maker, you were beautiful. Did you know that? Would you ever believe him if you told you? You were blindingly, effervescently, humanly beautiful. It hurt like needles.

The position of your chin forced your lips into a slight pout. As if you needed another weapon in your arsenal of ways to make him question his judgement. “Could you bring me the tray on the counter?”

Of course he could. He could bring you anything you liked. He would bring you a rancor, a dozen rancors, a fucking sarlaac if it meant you would smile all soft-like the way you just did when he answered yes.

Boba Fett, mercenary feared farther than he would ever live to travel and hunter too expensive for the Imperial payroll, was now a bath attendant. It was torturous in its sensual irony.

The tray was brought over in short order, cluttered with tiny vials of Maker-knows-what and bars of who-knows-how. Individually they probably all smelled nice, but crowded together the heavy scents only made his head spin. He set the tray down on the floor with a rattle and held up each mystery soap for your inspection. No. No. No. No, not that one. Gods, you were picky. No. No. Yes, please.

You were Miss Manners tonight apparently.

“It’s floating archidia,” you told him, mind running through an endless backlog of plant indexes as he handed over the soap. You sounded clearer now, less congested and more alert. Needed to drink water, though. “The flower that this is made with, I mean. Native to the planet Nubia, rumored to have euphoric properties.” You snorted and ran a thumbnail along the bar’s waxy edge, bringing up a curled pink piece. “Whatever that means.”

“Do you think it does?”

“Have euphoric properties?” you hummed, considering it for a moment. “Maybe. But maybe it’s just wishful thinking.”

“Wishful thinking,” Boba parroted.

The meaning of words can change when they’re repeated. Neither of your minds were on flowers.

His jaw tensed when you reached your other hand to his forearm, baring the rest of your body to the dim orange of the refresher lights’ night settings. The water rippled, warm now instead of steaming, and your fingers curled around the scarred skin of his wrist. “Take off the gloves,” you echoed, your voice suddenly desperate and distant as you traced over pale leather seams. “Please.”

He had refused the first time simply to toy with you. You weren’t used to being told no, and it showed. But he let you take off his helmet in a moment of thoughtless self-indulgence, scratching the part of his subconscious that itched to be touched, stroked, held. Shedding the helmet in front of someone else didn’t really mean anything in an honorable sense—at least not to Boba. Nothing tied him to the habit except a desire to keep himself and his motivations unknown. It was easier that way. Less messy.

He acquiesced. "Since you asked so nicely."

Wrinkling your nose, you guided newly-bare palms to knead gently at your shoulder blades. The skin there was soft and warm, pliant under his sandpaper touch. "Keep mentioning it and I'll go back to being difficult."

The soap made foamy bubbles across your back, over your arms and the velvet slope of your hips. Fingertips ghosted through the space between your jaw and ear, where he remembered sucking in a soft bruise.

He liked being known by you.

⫸————————————————⫷

You clambered out the tub with all the grace of a baby krugga deer and about as much shame. Which is to say, none at all. The subsiding cold had left you tired, bones like jelly and mind sloshing its thoughts around with no real order. Boba was here. Had stayed. Was standing in front of you now, watching tiny water droplets trail down your feet and letting you balance on his arm to keep you from stumbling.

A towel was wrapped around your shoulders. The press of his hot mouth against your forehead followed close behind. “Go sit on the bed.”

For some reason, you didn’t mind listening to him this time. Chalk it up to moldable exhaustion, you thought. Definitely not the fact that his voice sounded especially nice tonight, or any number of other questionable reasons.

He was going to ruin you. Or you would ruin yourself. Any way it was construed, Boba would play a part.

Still only in a towel, you drank the stale tea that sat on your bedside table and watched in mild interest as the mercenary’s shadow emptied out tepid bathwater with the thick glugluglug of the drain. It washed down soap and all your shared secrets.

Was it wrong that you still wanted him? More, now that he’d done this for you? Now that it wasn’t just cruel kisses and groping hands? What sort of a person did that make you?

Your mind whispered it when Boba walked back towards you. Someone lonely.

He helped you slide a new chemise on when you asked him to, quick and steady over the thin linen ties. I bet you do that with all the girls, you’d teased. No, he answered simply. Just you.

He was going to ruin you.

“Do you have to go yet?” you asked quietly and climbed under the covers. They were green today. Life enjoyed coincidences like that.

Boba crouched down on the floor beside your lying figure and shook his head. A wide fingertip smoothed away the crease between your brows. He was doing lots of touching. You were not complaining. “Not ‘til morning.”

“You might as well then,” you mumbled and lifted up the embroidered blankets with a sleep-slack hand. “No one’ll bother us, I promise.” you answered the empty air, too heartsick to comprehend any possible insinuations and too tired to realize the fingers tracing your brow bone had paused. “I told them all not to come back until tomorrow.”

His shirt and pants were shed in an unceremonious pile. You were already half-asleep when he climbed into the other side of the bed, slotting his legs against yours like puzzle pieces. Two question marks curled into each other, his chest to your back and his lips brushing your head.

“Goodnight, princess.”

⫸————————————————⫷

You were dreaming about him.

He was the burning sun that every single one of your thoughts had orbited around for the last six months and now he was invading your subconscious, dream-talons taking the form of dark hands rubbing soft circles against you and then invading your open mouth.

In your dream, Boba touched you softly and not at all, a tease even in your self-serving imagination.

Then you woke up, and it wasn’t a dream anymore.

Two thick arms encircled your waist with a grip unyielding in their strength. They’d pulled you impossibly close, pressed up against his sleeping body until every ridge of his muscled stomach could be felt against your back. Something else was against your back.

Your head reeled in its effort to sludge through the fog of sleep and reach the reality of masculine hips. They shifted in an unintentional grind against your legs until you couldn’t bite back the gasp that bubbled out from your voicebox, the sound quiet, keening, and lost in the shuffled sounds of fabric. It was still dark out. The water-clock in the corner of your room read 01:25:02.

You hadn’t put on anything underneath the new chemise. Why bother, when he’d already seen everything? Your body had grown to be a thing for display, a clothes-hanger and object to be prodded by strangers, and you’d long since rid yourself of any precocious modesty.

But this was different.

When Boba touched you, it wasn’t to sew flowers in your hair or drape a sash over your chest. It was simply to touch. The thought made you light-headed with newfound embarrassment, wiggling in his grip until you turned to face his sleeping form.

All the heavy things he carried on his shoulders during the day were gone now. His bottom lip pillowed out when he slept and he looked younger, the perpetual downturn of his lips now settled below the black hair at his temples. You felt a sticky sort of fondness settle in your chest.

“Boba,” you whispered, two hands placing themselves on his tanned cheeks. They traced the divots of scars and premature lines with all the reverence of worshipfulness.

“Mmm,” his voice rumbled with eyes still closed. A warm mouth kissed the side of your palm.

“Boba,” you repeated, more desperate this time but not knowing what you were desperate for. The space between your legs already knew what it wanted, hot and pulsing with a familiar dampness. Traitor.

“What do you need?” The question wasn’t accusatory, nor annoyed at your waking him. It was known that he would give you whatever you liked. Eventually.

You. Just you.

“I don’t,” you huffed, the fabric sticking uncomfortably to your now overheated body as you squirmed, “I don’t know.” Lie.

“Think about it and tell me,” he whispered, eyes opening in their dark, heavy-lidded expectation. The moon and stars suspended outside offered light enough to see the smirk on his face. His skin was the color of burnt earth and of gods. Somewhere, far away in the canopy of carefully pruned trees, a single lark let out its warbled cry.

There was an old adage about being like a lamb to the slaughter. You’d never touched a lamb. Never seen a slaughter. But somehow, you knew it was true.

This lamb, dumb and tender-hearted, was willingly sacrificied.

"I...'' the word left you in the arc of your exhale, one whoosh of air that rattled your chest already wracked with fevered tremors. "I- want you to-"

"You want me to what, pretty thing?" His voice was low, dangerous. It made every part of you want him more. "Say it."

You weren't used to cursing. It was never tolerated and you barely ever heard it, but you'd learned enough to know what he wanted you to say. Which word he wanted to hear, and what it'd mean he would do.

"F-fuck. Me." you choked out, biting your lip to muffle the embarrassment of having to speak it out loud. The word was filthy and raw between your teeth. "Please?"

⫸————————————————⫷

You were dying. Possibly had already died. Were ascending up or barrelling down, you didn’t care as long as his wet mouth stayed between your legs and never, ever stopped.

Wide hands cupped at your skin and kneaded wherever they could reach, simultaneously rough and supplicating. Every pass of his tongue was enough to make you feel possessed. He was killing you.

“Good. Good girl.” he said against your swollen skin when your hips arced off the bed, your spine and toes stiffening for what seemed like an eternity during the damp lightning finish. It sounded like a growl, animalistic and vibrating. A burning, sweet hurt.

Some people call it “little death,” a lady’s maid once whispered underneath her hand in a giggle. “Little death?” you repeated incredulously. That seems a bit dramatic, don’t you think?

You understood now.

Boba didn’t let up, never once letting his touch waver even as you buckled and swayed, all sense lost and all sensation compacting. “Another,” he ordered. Your body listened, bending to his touch without complaint with eyes rolled back into your head.

You were dying.

⫸————————————————⫷

Boba let you lay against him in the downturn, rubbing mindless shapes into the bone of your wrists as you struggled to breathe. Your neck was cradled in one of his broad, bronze palms. It gave one tiny, imperceptible squeeze. An accident. A test.

You pawed at the hand resting heavy on your nape until it moved to leave completely, but was caught instead by your fingers and guided—slow and curious—to cup at your bared throat.

“Dirty,” the man noted in a dark rasp and rolled over to face you. There was a slight smirk in his voice, but that could’ve just been your imagination.

“I don’t see you...” your voice trailed off into a wheeze as Boba’s thick fingers pressed into the sides of your neck, “—see you complaining.”

He kissed you. And kissed you. And kissed you. An eternity was spent opening the seam of your mouth while he choked you softly, baring your pulsating soul with only your bedroom walls as witness to the present depravity. The air was filled with begging and grunting—simple noises that stuttered and left your sheets ruined.

You wanted more. You couldn’t help it.

His chuckle morphed into a groan when you reached down to touch him with widening eyes, squeezing him curiously after pulling down his boxers. “You’re a brave little thing,” Boba noted with a hint of greedy pride. “Never done this before, have you?”

Your own hands served as poor substitutes all these years. You shook your head no.

“D’you want to?”

Of course you did. This was the only thing you wanted. The only thing you would ever want, over and over until your body turned to dust under him. A million grains of fizzy, burning blaster powder. A million comets passing by a supernova.

You nodded and tucked your face into the space between Boba’s shoulder and neck, rolling onto your side and hooking a leg over his hip. Your chests met, damp with sweat as cool air flowed over bare skin. The covers had long since been pushed aside. “Safe,” you said in a heady moan over the shell of his ear. “Implant.”

Thank goodness for modern medicine.

⫸————————————————⫷

It hurt a little at first, but most of the discomfort melted away as he whispered to you, sweet and cloying praises alongside filthy things that you’d be hard-pressed to repeat in public. They wove together in an endless stream of baritone vowels, lapping over each other like ocean waves until everything was a gyrating, syrupy playback.

He let you move against him, mouth open and sloppy against your temple when you whined at the stretch. The hands at your back didn’t push. Only placated. “I know, I know,” Boba assured you with fingers rubbing sympathetic desire into your flesh. It would bruise, but you’d come to like the marks. Your hips bucked at their own accord when he pressed up against something tight, the friction burning a bright, numb spark. “Slow down,” he mumbled into your hair, “You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

Never in your life did you think this was how it would be. Your first kiss, more of a battle than it was a kiss, served as fuel for the expectations of your first time. Never in your life did you think he would be the one telling you to go slow.

It was for your sake, you knew that. But it was still surprising.

You huffed and bit the shell of his ear in childish revenge, blowing a puff of air where you knew it would tickle. Boba only growled and tightened his arms around your waist, rocking into you slow and deep. “Don’t tease,” he warned.

The new movements robbed you of the ability to speak until all you could do in response was lift your head from where it had rested on his shoulder, meeting impossibly dark eyes in lust-addled vision as a building pressure colored the entire world in shades of black, red, and green.

In a moment of complete and utter lack of propriety, you leaned forward, smiling like a woman deranged, and pressed a kiss to his nose.

Boba came undone the same minute you did. It was a rush of wet, rocking pleasure, spreading like thick webs of lighted fire from inside your blood and out to fill the room with quiet devotion. Panting, bursting, close, messy. You’d never felt so whole.

Your foreheads met and you went cross-eyed trying to look at him again. That’s all you wanted to do. Look at him. Uttered underneath his jaw, where the skin was smooth, was your finishing admission. “I love you.”

You didn’t say it to hear it repeated. It was just to give it a shape. Make it concrete. Said more to yourself than him, really.

But Boba did repeat it. Over and over and over. In the tangle of your arms. I love you. In the kiss to your breasts. I love you. In the towel brought between your legs. I love you. In the settled silence of new sleep. I love you, I love you, I love you.

⫸————————————————⫷

The watery light of dawn melted through heavy curtains and you awoke, body weighed down with lead and gold. Sweet soreness had made its home in your muscles and you were loath to get up, but the man you’d been using as a pillow had very rudely left his post.

“I have to go,” he said, already awake and standing sentry by your bed. You raised your head up from the pillows in groggy protest to meet his blurry figure. If you squinted, there were three of him standing there at once.

A shake of your head rid your vision of the doubles, leaving the lone man. He kissed you—quick and dirty, with tongue—and squeezed your exposed breast, prompting a low moan to tumble from your mouth before he slipped his blaster into the holster at his hip. It wasn’t even 6 in the morning and you were thoroughly debauched. What a scandal, you thought (not for the first time) with passing amusement. A bounty hunter and a princess.

Watching in a dim haze as Boba finished strapping on his amor, you tracked the reflection of the sun in the metal’s lazy movement.

He leaned over you. “I’ll be back soon.” Soon. What did soon mean? Another kiss, slow and careful on the bow of your mouth. One more on the slope of your forehead. For luck, you supposed. Whether it was for you or him didn’t matter much. “Promise.”

Slowly, as he climbed out onto your balcony and was gone with a flash of jetpack light, you wondered if it was a mirage; a dream, maybe. The entire night a hallucinatory haze, a figment of your overactive imagination and reckless romanticism.

But the towel left discarded on the floor and the pulsing ache between your legs was very, very real.

#boba fett x reader #boba fett/reader #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett x you #boba fett fic #boba fett oneshot #boba fett imagine

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gojoscloset · 3 years

Text

Hello! Please forgive me for I have sinned. I only seen like 3 episodes of Haikyuu but I cannot stop thinking about Iwaizumi please forgive me if I am somewhere I do not belong but I am so thirsty for him and recently buying Chain link Necklaces fucked me up more than it should have so here we go:

Possessive/Territorial/hot things I imagine Iwaizumi doing that make me MOIST

NSFW THINGS: 18+ ONLY

NSFW mentions for sure

Also heavily inspired by the fact that I bought these fucking Gold chain link necklaces and like CAN I GET A BF ALREADY??? I just wanna wear his chains and let him wear my name plate UGHHHH ANYWAY:

IWAIZUMI X READER THINGS:

Wears a Gold nameplate chain link necklace

Def notices when you stare at it, or when you brush your fingers over the letters when you two cuddle.

Gifts it to you after a while of you two dating because he notices how much you like it.

Plus it feeds his ego knowing you have his name on you in some way. Like damn how fucking hot.

Seeing his nameplate in your selfies on Social media is what makes his dick hard.

On some “That’s my girl..” type shit

If you’re going out w your friends he always makes sure you’re good to go and walks you to the front door.

Does a check list for you, Ya know. Like, makes sure your buttons are all done, checks for lint, fixes your collar, pulls strands of hair away from your face. soft Dom shit.

Will place a hand behind your head or he will place his large hands on either side of your head and gives you a forehead kiss then a kiss on the lips before you go.

But your fave /my fave/ is when he fixes the necklace for you and makes sure you have his name out for everyone to see /for everyone to know/ rather than it being tucked in your shirt.

You came home one time and it was tucked in and he had an absolute fit.

But ofc you reassured him and proceeded to fuck the shit outta you.

Speaking of fucking-

It makes his dick twitch when you’re on top and he sees his name bouncing against your soft chest.

Will lean up to kiss your neck and move down, will also place a kiss on the necklace whilst never breaking eye contact cause he knows how you feel about it.

Probably likes hip hop and RnB so imagine him fucking you sometimes with music in the background

Like can you imagine him grabbing you by the face while he mouths some of the lyrics.

Hip hop- when the lyrics talk about gangsta shit

RnB- when the lyrics are dirty/ sensual/ sexy

When you throw your head back and you’re in the zone, he’ll place a hand behind your head and give you a kiss to make sure you’re good.

It grounds you.

Iwaizumi can tell when you’re out of it or when you’re not entirely focused on him (while he’s about to rearrange your guts) so he’ll gently slap your face a few times with a “hey hey, focus on me.”

Or a ” I’m Right here” if he notices your gaze isn’t really on him.

Is also very much into eye contact and gets off to seeing your face contour and twist with pleasure.

If you look away or shut your eyes he’ll cease all movement until you look at him.

Will also buy you jewelry if you have piercings.

Like nipple jewelry that has his initials

Earrings with studs his favorite color

Etc etc

When you two argue:

You like being dramatic and extra cause it gets pretty heated /also you like seeing how possessive he gets. Ya know brat things/

So when the argument is at its hottest point, you take the chain off and toss it at him and quickly walk away.

That little action throws him over the edge.

“Where are you going?!?! I’m talking to you!!”

Or sometimes a

“HA! Where the fuck are you going?! I’m not done with you!”

He’s angry of course, but he’s hurt as well.

No matter how fast you are, he’s always faster.

Will have you against the wall in .3 seconds flat.

Large Hands grabbing your forearms roughly.

Uses his strength to his advantage and knows you can’t get away and have to listen to what he says.

Very rough with it, but never ever intentionally hurts you.

You do that thing, where he’s talking to you but you don’t look at him, you look past him or stare off into space with an obvious pout or scowl on your face he does NOT like that shit.

Yeah he hates that shit so much and you know how much he does but that’s exactly why you do it.

Will lean down to be right in your face or in your ear, voice stern as hell, loud, but he never yells when he’s this close to you.

Still Calls the shots even when you two are having your moments.

“Don’t play that shit with me, because you know I fucking love you and would do anything for you. Y/n! Look at me when I’m fucking talking to you!”

Will force your gaze to be on him and only him.

Not the wall behind him

Not his chest

H I M

Makes him feel like you’re actually paying attention to what he has to say.

When he feels he’s made his point across and he sees your expression soften a bit, he cautiously places the chain back on you. Voice softening as he continues to calm you down.

Even if you still have a pissed off face, he’ll reach behind you and clasp the chain together

His silent way of saying

“You’re Mine still.”

“We’re in this forever”

Will also make you give him a smile or he won’t let you go.

“Can my pretty girl smile for me?”

He won’t accept one of those fake 😬 smiles,

If you don’t give him a genuine smile he’ll have you pinned up against the wall until you do.

You’ve tried it before and he had your ass there foreverrrr.

Ugh love love love this shit. Makes me want a rough boyfriend but not the ones that physically or emotionally fuck you up. You know what I’m tryna say

#iwaizumi headcanons #iwaizumi drabble #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x y/n #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi scenarios #iwaizumi hcs #haikyuu!!#hq x you #haikyuu!! x reader #Nasty Nept✨

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ratretro · 3 years

Note

Hallo!✌

Do you have any bkdk fic recs? Please and thank you. 🤗

YOU BET I DO

These are a collection of recs from me and my fellow chaos server bkdks. I'm only doing AO3 links because that has a proper tagging system so you can look through them and decide on your own terms which ones you want to read. :) I highly recommend looking through the author's other works as well.

Some of these you may have already read if you've been in the bkdk fandom for a while. Recs under the cut!!

are u dating?? by ladyofsnails

This one is by far one of my favorites and I re-read it constantly. It's precious. Here's the summary:

Izuku's life is going amazingly well, with his Twitch channel where he streams himself playing video games and discussing the nerdiest things imaginable hitting 3 million followers, his best friend as his roommate, and his other close friends as tight-knit as they've been since high school. The only possible road bump is his viewer's continuous demands to know who "Kacchan" is - thanks to Katsuki often coming into his room during streams and Izuku's repeated attempts to pull him into video game competitions - and, more importantly, if they're dating. Which is crazy.

The Way You Used To Do by Edema-ruh

This one gives me physical and emotional pain but the pay off is so worth it. It also has a sequel, but I can't say anything on it, because I haven't had a chance to read it lol This is also available to read in multiple languages. Here's the summary:

"We're really sorry," his father says, in a teary-eyed, wobbly way. "But your friend, Izuku, he's... He's gone, son."

Katsuki can do nothing but blink up at them for moments that feel like an eternity, eyes darting between both his parents in obvious confusion, disbelief, and, more than anything, indignation.

"What the fuck are you two talking about? The damn nerd is standing right beside you!"

During a battle, Midoriya gets hit by a villain whose quirk detaches his soul from his body. Stuck in a ghost-like state, the boy enters a race against time in order to save himself from permanently dying. Much to his luck - or lack of it -, the only person who can see and talk to him in this state is no one other than Kacchan.

Alternatively: Deku and Kacchan are soulbound.

If It's You by lalazee

Okay so this one is fucking great because it's based off of one of my fave 90s movies this one is a rec courtesy of Ash. Also, it's a one shot. Here's the summary:

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” Katsuki said. “You did not just ask me—me—to try and date your loser step-brother.”

He wasn’t even going to say Deku’s name out loud. Wasn’t giving him the time of day, even in a conversation about him. That weird awkward virgin was not worth his precious time, and certainly not what Kirishima was suggesting.

“But Bakugouuu,” Kirishima wailed, hanging off Katsuki’s arm with monster meathead jock strength. “My dad said I can’t date if Deku doesn’t date. Do you understand what that means?”

“Less chance of knocking someone up and creating more of you in the world?”

A Demolition Boy & his Cryptid BF by kewltie

I'm a massive sucker for streamer AUs lmfao but this one's really cute. The way it's written is unique and might take some getting used too but it's cute. This one is courtesy of Mis lol Here's the summary:

Bakugou of the Demolition Squad is famous for running one of the most popular Youtube channels on the web that regularly blow shit up and jumped off a perfectly good building for shit and giggles. He's also famous for his Cryptid BF™, never appearing on camera except for a few bodyshots and all information on him is kept locked up tighter than Fort Knox, therefore drawing all sort of attention and curiosity toward his mysterious boyfriend.

Deku from Deku Explains is a hopeless chatterbox who is known for uploading 20-30 minutes video that talked about his favorite shows and comics and have one of the most devoted following on Youtube. He also can't seem to shut up about his boyfriend Kacchan, who regularly make his presence on the channel as a disembodied voice.

They should theoretically have nothing in common except a shared platform to host their content and an army of fans with an endless curiosity and devotion to their Youtubers. Vidcon is where we lay our scene and the internet is about to get a rude wake up call.

(may the bridges i have burned) light my way back home by Chrome

Alternatively known as: my heart is broken and I love them your honor. It hurts my soul but its definitely hurt/comfort :') This one is incomplete, but def a good read. This one is courtesy of Klancey Here's the summary:

Since Bakugou Katsuki discovered the secret of One for All, he and Midoriya Izuku have been slowly repairing the friendship they once had. They still haven’t talked about it—but Izuku’s certain that it’s only a matter of time before they manage to lay the past to rest.

But when the League of Villains attack the Sports Festival and Bakugou takes a devastating blow meant for Izuku, the whole nation is suddenly paying attention to a relationship the two people involved barely understand. Izuku needs more than ever to figure out who he and Kacchan are to each other—preferably before the internet does.

or,

“Fuck you,” Bakugou said. “I don’t need a whole face to kick your ass.”

#this is a short list because im shit at keeping track of my fics #im that reader who just leaves all their browser tabs open and never saves anything lmfao #anyway here are a few recs #i also limited myself to ao3 only because of their tagging system but #hope you find something you like in here #bakudeku #katsuizu #fic recs #ratnon

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miekasa · 3 years

Note

wait so i was scrolling through your blog (as per usual) and i saw that you brought up levi and his streamer gf briefly. care to elaborate a lil causeee im curious 👀👀

- 🖤

Absolutely, I can. He’s such a supportive bf even tho he’s far from a gamer himself, and very very proud of you 😌

Whatever game(s) you play, Levi knows the basics. He might not have ever played them himself, but he knows enough to recognize it if it ever comes up in conversation.

He doesn’t always watch your streams, and you can hardly tell when he does because he doesn’t comment or anything. He just tunes in when he’s free to support you and see what’s going on. Sometimes to peep on your comment section, but he’d never tell you that.

He doesn’t make donations. He’d just Apple Pay you money lmfao. Supportive emotionally and financially, but all your followers/subscribers don’t have to see that.

He knows when you’re recording content or streaming and typically doesn’t bother you. The only exceptions are (a) if he forgets or (b) you’ve been in your room for a while and he’s going in to check up on you.

He doesn’t forget often—and truthfully, when he walks in on your streams its not actually because he forgot; it’s because you’re online at a different time that usual and he didn’t know—but it’s pretty cute when he does. He catches himself pretty quickly, and silently asks you if you’re streaming; to which he gently closes the door and just texts you his inquiry.

He doesn’t even really disturb you—it’s not like he enters rooms cussing up a storm on full blast. Nobody could even tell he walked in, except for maybe a small lapse in your attention when you turned to him.

When you’ve been in your room for a while, he does come in to check on you. His intentions aren’t necessarily to get you away from the screen; he just wants to make sure you’ve had dinner or some snacks at the very least. When you have all night tournaments or streaming fests, he comes by with dinner for you; silently puts it on your desk, and on occasion, leaves you with a little head pat.

He doesn’t normally appear in your streams, but he is in two of your YouTube videos: one shopping haul, and once when he helped you make him/your friends in the Sims. They happen to be two of your highest viewed videos.

People constantly ask about him. They know Levi exists, but they don’t see him often, and newer fans especially are obsessed with catching a glimpse of your mysterious boyfriend on screen. If you asked him, he’d come in for a few seconds to show his face, but he wouldn’t do it unprompted.

You mention him, of course, it’s not like you’re hiding him away either. He comes up particularly often when you play with your friends or are just chatting in lobbies. You don’t exactly explicitly refer to him as your boyfriend, but you say his name—and so does Hange—and people kinda get the picture.

Hange constantly asking for Levi when you guys are playing together. It’s one of the few times Levi comes into your chat/comments to tell them to shutup. (Yes, your subscribers go crazy for the glimpse of Levi on your channel).

He’s not a gamer, and he sees no reason to disturb your streams by appearing if you don’t ask. But, also, he’s a little camera shy, not that he’d ever tell you that. You’ve got a lot of followers, he’s not prepared to be live in front of thousands of people every night; he’ll leave that up to you.

Levi built nearly everything in your gaming setup. From the adjustable standing desks, to the wall mounts for your accessories and decorations, to your chair, to the shelves. He built it all and tailored it to your exact taste and to fit your room perfectly.

So, sometimes you feel bad when people ask about stuff because you can’t exactly give them a link or recommendation—“Oh thank you! The thing is, my—well, Levi built the desk for me so you can’t buy it—but! There are some similar ones at IKEA!!”

(Levi scoffs ever so lightly when he sees that clip. His craftsmanship cannot be found at IKEA, but they can try).

He also helped mount the TV in your room so that the cables were hidden and everything. Truly a godsend. And whenever you wanna move things around, he’s there to help you. Sometimes he even has ideas of his own, “You were looking at accent walls the other day right? I think you could do something with this back wall…”

He does play games with you, just usually offscreen. He’s scarily good at first person shooters… even tho he claims to not have any past experience with them… extremely suspicious activity.

And when he mains D.Va and Symmetra then what. Then what.

Just don’t ask him to play Fornite. Ever. (He’d be good at it, but he feels so fucking dumb playing it especially when he can hear that he is competing against a twelve year old pls).

He plays games by himself, too. Think “classic” run of the mill console videos games, I guess, nothing too crazy; Zelda, Mario, Kirby… Animal Crossing. His island is nothing short of immaculate, his only regret is that he doesn’t have oranges as his island fruit. Levi really likes oranges (he got peaches instead).

He knows that you’re pretty popular and he’s super proud of you. That doesn’t mean he likes to see fancam style edits of you on his feed. He knows that you’re pretty but still 🙄🙄

Constantly on the look out for computer/keyboard parts that you mentioned. If he sees it online or anywhere else, he’ll try and snag it for you <3 that goes for new console games, too.

He’ll also periodically upgrade some of the tech in your setup. Get you a better mic, some more lighting for your desk, a cute desk mat he thinks you might like. He’s observant, so he knows your taste in design and takes note of things you mention.

Okay okay okay but imagine putting the headphones with the kitty ears on him. He wouldn’t even notice at first and then you turn on the LEDs and bam. Very focused, very cute kitty Levi playing games on your PC.

If you’ve got a merch store, he helps you run it, and by that I mean, he practically runs it for you. Periodically, he might even have a design idea. You can count on him to get things out for shipping right on time. It’s one of his many ways of supporting you.

He’s also the one who remembers to check your P.O. box for packages from fans and from companies. It was his idea initially, too (he wasn’t too crazy about anyone, even major brands having your home address on file).

Look, he knows you’ve got some super fans, and some people who really do adore you. That doesn’t mean he’s necessarily happy when you get sent non-tech or gaming related merch (like jewelry or shoes or whatever). If he happens to put them a little bit out of sight then no he did not <2

Occasionally he’ll meet someone who recognizes your name when it comes up in conversation. He very proudly confirms that yes, he is talking about you, the streamer.

Sometimes, people will even recognize him back—“Oh, so you’re Levi, then!” Obviously. You only have one Levi in your life 🙄🙄

#🖤 anon #no bc him being a little camera shy is so cuteeeee #so easy for him to grumble and play it off as his normal grumpy aloof self but he’s shyyyyyyyyy #it’s okay levi you’re handsome and the people love you 😚😚😚😚#levi.ask

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