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#it's still not enough but i'm satisfied for now

babeyun · 2 days

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falling alone ✩ l.hs [teaser]

✩ series m.list

✩ synopsis: cold cases were heeseung’s specialty, and he cracked every single one. cold hearts were your specialty, and you have yet to make a single chip in your husband’s.

✩ genre: established relationship au | hurt-comfort

✩ pairing: lieutenant!lhs x housewife!reader

✩ word count: 2k | [full fic: tbd]

✩ rating: 18+. minors dni.

✩ warnings: mentions of disappearances. some slightly suggestive themes between husband!hee & wife!reader (nothing explicit), uhhh that's it for now i think!

friday, 9:23pm.

"late night?"

your voice has always been a comfort to him.

the way you cooked dinner every night, the way you washed his hair for him, the way you laid in bed with him – it was all comforting. your soft eyes, eyes that had never seen an inch of a crime scene. your gentle hands, hands that would never cock a gun and aim to kill.

you were home to him, and he hated that he couldn't leave his work at the precinct. he always brought it with him, anywhere he went...anywhere you were.

"not really. caught a session with dr. bahng. i'm sorry about dinner." he loosens his tie, trying to ignore the way your eyes follow his fingers. he takes his wedding ring off for work – insisting it snags on the gloves when gathering evidence, that he never wanted to sully it with such grime. "how was your night?"

your sigh may be inward, but his eyes catch everything. every frustrated twitch of your brows, the way your nose crinkles at the half-assed apology. your eyes linger on the linoleum floor, and he fights the urge to pull you into his arms. he fights the urge to show any weakness to your feelings, because he can't let go of work. he has to be strong, he has to be coarse, he has to be cold.

"it was...fine." you wave him off, moving to take the full plates off the table. only then does heeseung notice that you're still in your jeans, your white top neatly tucked into them. your feet are clad in fresh socks, almost as if you were about to go out when he arrived. his eyes scan you as you move around, pulling his tie completely off and bunching it into his pocket. "are you going out with your friends?"

you don't reply as you scrape the cold food into the trash can, and he focuses on the sound of your bracelet lightly clinking with the handle of the fork. your shoulders sag, soft curls of your hair sweeping over your face as you move to place the dishes in the sink. he sighs, before his legs move him behind you. "why are you upset, honey?" "i'm not, i'm not upset." you scoff, turning the tap to hot when you feel heeseung's hands ghost over your waist. you knew better than to attempt to hide anything from him, especially with the way his brain was literally trained to analyze your every movement. his lips press softly to your cheek as his fingers untuck your top, "i know you better than that."

you're silent as his fingertips trace the soft skin of your stomach, his chin resting on your shoulder. he's going to wait until you decide you want to talk, despite knowing it will be the same argument you have every single week.

the same argument that always ends up unresolved as you kiss in your bed, sheets tangled between your bodies. it's enough to hold off on actually talking about it, it's enough to semi-satisfy the lack of attention you got from him during the week. it wasn't enough to feed his unvoiced, almost insatiable hunger for you, and how he wished he could just douse you in his love and affection until the sun rose. it wasn't nearly enough, because he'd still have to pry himself from the comfort of your warm embrace to step foot in the precinct and inhale the stench of evil in the world.

he felt awful, really. that he could never truly show you how much he loved you, how emotionally constipated his job made him...how his sessions with dr. bahng were no longer of much help. "leave work at work, lieutenant. you have the love of your life waiting for you at home." he had it memorized at this point.

"it's always the same thing, don't worry about it." you turn the tap off, feeling the guilt about wasting water seeping into your stomach. you weren't going to wash the dishes, you knew you weren't. you just wanted to lay down in bed with your husband, basking in the few minutes of attention he'd be able to give you before falling asleep. "baby."

you wince at the pet name, one so foreign on his lips. one you so rarely heard, long lost in your college memories. you grimace as you turn in his hold, his hands now resting on your hips. "don't baby me, heeseung."

"don't heeseung me, y/n. i know something is bothering you, and whether it's tonight, tomorrow, or next week – i'm not letting you go to bed like this." he looks at you through tousled locks, his eyes speaking for him. just talk to me.

you shake your head in subtle disbelief, attempting to push past him when he pins you against the counter gently. "let me go, heeseung."

"not until you tell me what's going on." his voice is harsh, one he also rarely uses with you. heeseung was always gentle, soft-spoken. "i've been at work all day, dealing with shit i can barely stomach. i just want to come home and spend time with you. what's wrong?" he's starting to whine, and it does nothing but make your heart ache and your eyes sting with tears.

"i just want to spend time with you, without having to beg for it." you breathe out, squeezing your eyes shut to avoid his gaze. "you remember everything, hee. i know you had to remember that tonight is date night." sighing, you peel your eyes open to a guilty husband watching you with his own tired ones.

"i'm sorry, honey. it really did slip my mind. let me...let me take a shower and we can go have a night on the town, okay?" he starts to walk away, fingers pulling at the buttons of his shirt when you clear your throat. "it's fine, heeseung. let's just go to bed." "no, let me fix this. we haven't had dinner, and we haven't spent time together in weeks." he slips his dress shirt off as he leaves your line of vision, and you just slump against the counter. he was right, and you hated that you knew he was. heeseung was always this way, though, shouldn't you be used to it by now?

yes, he was gentle and soft-spoken, with a touch of dirty humor and thoughtfulness that always made your heart race a little faster. your relationship was built on a lot of comfort and deep talks, ones that usually involved you unraveling yourself entirely just to get a taste of his own secrets. the two of you had met in college, about three days after the disappearance of his childhood best friend, cha soyoung.

heeseung was even more cold and stoic then, and wasn't interested in so much as even befriending you. he didn't really speak, which according to hs friends, was unnatural. they wound up being close friends of yours as well, thanks to park sunghoon. the seven of them also ended up working at the same precinct.

"heeseung talks...a lot. not as much as jay, but he's just going through a hard time right now." sunghoon had said as he sipped his drink, carefully chewing the tapioca pearls as the two of you walked. "it's not everyday your best friend of twenty years goes missing, you know?" you had shrugged, not really understanding what it was like. your parents had moved you around a lot as a kid, and it was hard to make friends until they finally settled when you got into your last year of high school. you had met sunghoon there, but only met the rest of your friends through him that following summer – except heeseung. he'd gone home with soyoung for the summer, returning to seoul for the fall semester at decelis university with her and your other friends. you still never spoke, until now.

you and sunghoon were swinging by his dorm to help pass out flyers.

"hey, hoon. y/n." heeseung spoke quietly as he opened the door, his eyes nearly swollen shut from crying for the past three days. your jaw dropped as you looked at his face, not at all recognizing the boy in front of you. sure, you'd only ever seen picures of heeseung but you knew enough to know that this...wasn't him. neither you nor sunghoon spoke as heeseung moved for the two of you to follow him, shutting the door behind you.

"how are you feeling?" sunghoon asked as he trashed his drink, your own now sweating on a coaster on heeseung's coffee table as the man gathered things around his dorm. you stood awkwardly as you swung your backpack onto the couch, opening it for heeseung to slide the flyers in when you saw him shake his head. "i don't feel much, actually."

sunghoon glanced at you, but your legs moved before you could think. you rounded the table to heeseung, who looked at your extended arms and empathetic eyes with cold ones. he'd set down the papers in his hands, fingers splayed across them momentarily before turning back ot you, awkwardly entering your embrace. your fingers easily found the nape of his neck, and his rigid form quickly softened as he breathed shakily into your shoulder.

"m'sorry." he mumbled as you felt a few tears soak through your shirt, and you just shook your head.

sunghoon also wound up wrapping his arms around the two of you. something about the way that heeseung's fingers clawed at your sides, and the way that he sobbed into your shoulder made you wonder how long he'd needed someone. someone to ease the knot in his stomach, someone to help him see that this was something that would be solved and everything would be okay again. someone to help him hop along until soyoung was found, and someone to leave when she inevitably took her place again.

that was six years ago.

you and heeseung began dating a year after that happened, a couple of months after the anniversary of soyoung's disappearance. the police stopped looking, ruling her case as a runaway. you and heeseung never stopped searching – you frequently asked cafe owners if you could pin missing posters on their corkboards, and even went door to door every few evenings asking if anyone had seen soyoung.

heeseung had made it to the side of the law, and often reviewed the case to see if he had missed anything. he never had – you had all hit a dead end. everyone's hope began to dwindle, but heeseung never let that sway him. he even asked the forensics department to make age-progression posters, and they did. you'd pinned those up, too.

he was strong willed, he was diligent, he was determined. you love heeseung, you love the person he is...

...but you hate that he can't leave his work at work. you hate that you get a crumb of his affection every few nights, whether it's his lips pressed against your cheek after dinner or his teeth nipping at your clavicle while hovering above you in bed. you hate that you find yourself longing for him even more than you did in college, despite now having him in the deepest way – as your husband, the person who loves you.

the man who shed a singular tear as he watched you walk down the aisle, the man who supported you when your career wasn't what you expected. the man who endlessly told you he loved you in ways that weren't so evident to the naked eye – like leaving the warm water for you and showering in the ice cold, leaving the last slice of cake for you. rubbing your feet while watching law and order with you on days he didn't work (read: on days you pried him out of the home office.)

heeseung loves you, you know that. you just can't shake the feeling that it won't be for much longer.

taglist [those in red could not be tagged!]: @thesassy-mia @starfallia @ramenoil @hoonieversies @wintabite @shnnzsworld @eneiyri @jjongsha @ilovejungwonandhaechan @oopshee @capri-cuntz @thenastone @marimariiiiiiii

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luvlucia · 2 days

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tension - yjw

summary: jungwon has been working a lot lately and you've finally had enough but he can't stand your brattiness || warnings: dom!jungwon x sub!reader, brat tamer! jungwon x brat!reader, argument, angry sex, unprotected sex || genre: smut, angst, established relationship || word count: approximately 1290 || a/n: see the request here!

For the past few weeks, Jungwon and you had barely any time together. He has been constantly working lately and only really home when you were about to go to sleep, or already asleep, and then gone in the morning. Every time he was home he was really tired and overall not in the best mood from how much he was working.

Today, Jungwon had gotten home earlier than usual but he had to leave soon due to an important meeting that he was mandated to attend.

You hadn't said anything about his absence the past two weeks but Jungwon could tell it was making you upset. He understood because he was also annoyed with how seldom he saw you as of late.

You sat on the end of the bed as you watched Jungwon fix himself up, having to leave soon. As you watched him your pout grew. "Jungwon.." You softly said, hesitantly.

"Mhm?" He responded, still looking at himself in the mirror as he continued to fix himself up.

"Can you at least eat dinner with me before you go?" You asked. You would be happy with even a short dinner with him because you knew that you'd most likely be sleeping when he got back home.

"I can't, angel. I have to go to that meeting soon." Jungwon said, glancing back at you momentarily before looking back at himself in the mirror, giving himself one last once over before turning to face you again.

"I'm sure you could have a quick dinner with me before you need to go." You nearly pleaded.

"I can't." Jungwon reaffirmed, his expression serious. "I'll see you after the meeting." He then said and that only made you more annoyed.

You rolled your eyes, making him furrow his eyebrows a little. "Yeah, you'll see me but I won't see you." You said since you'd probably be sleeping.

Jungwon let out a sigh, "So stay up." He said, annoyed. He wasn't really annoyed with you, more at the situation actually. He was just taking it out on you.

"Why should I have to stay up for you?" You said, completely bothered by him saying that.

"You shouldn't but it'd solve your problem, right?" Jungwon asked, his tone becoming less calm.

"Or you could just eat dinner with me for a bit and I'd be satisfied. Why can't you just do that? We have some time. It could be quick." You said, sounding both irritated and desperate.

Jungwon looked away from you for a moment before looking back into your eyes, "I told you I can't do that. I don't have time for that."

"You never have time for anymore! Even when you are here." You said rather loudly. "I mean, do you really have to work that much or are you just doing it so that you don't have to be with me?" You then asked, tears brimming in your eyes.

"Do you even hear what you're saying right now?" Jungwon asked, stepping closer to you as you remained sitting on the end of the bed. "You think I want to work all the time? To be away from you all the time? I mean, come on. I need you to really think about it because what you're saying makes no sense."

"I never get to see you anymore, Jungwon!" You complained. "It's so lonely, can't you understand that?" You then asked. "No, you can't. You at least have friends at work." You added, just saying stuff because you were upset and at your breaking point.

"You need to watch your mouth, Y/n." Jungwon says firmly, stepping closer, and looking down at you.

"Why should I? You're not going to do anything about it. You have to go to the meeting, remember?" You said rather brattily.

Without any warning, Jungwon leans down and crashes his lips against yours. The kiss was hungry and rough. You were surprised at the suddenness of all of it, having no time to react as he laid you down on the bed, standing in between your legs as he continued to harshly kiss you, groaning into your mouth.

Your hands made their way to his broad shoulders as he continued to sloppily kiss you, his hips grinding against your own. You let out a soft moan into his mouth as he continued. Jungwon pulled away from your lips for a moment as he grabbed the waistband of your shorts, grabbing ahold of your underwear as well as pulled them both off of you, tossing them to the side before spreading your legs again and grinding his clothed crotch against your bare one.

"Not going to do anything about it, huh?" Jungwon repeated what you'd said, a small smirk on his face despite the angry look in his eyes. He scoffed as he undid his belt and unzipped his zipper before pulling his own pants and underwear off, letting them drop down his legs.

Completely without warning, he grabbed the base of his cock and shoved himself inside of you, making you let out a squeal as you grabbed his arms. Jungwon started thrusting into you abruptly, letting out grunts and groans with every thrust.

"You c-complain and complain... like I... like I have a choice in how much I work?" Jungwon asked through his thrusts. "You... act like I- I want this?" He continued as you let out whines and moans of pleasure. "You don't know what the... the fuck you're talking about." He breathily said.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." You whined as he continued his movement in you. "I just... I love you." You said, tears brimming in your arms as your grip tightened on his flexed arms.

"I love you more." Jungwon groaned. "Even if you think I don't." He said. You didn't say anything in response, just letting out more sounds of satisfaction. "I- I work so much... for us. Yet... yet you treat me like I'm some asshole." He continued, letting out his frustration not only through him fucking you but through his words as well.

You wrapped your arms around his neck gently, pulling his face down to yours, just wanting to kiss him. You missed this intimacy between the two of you, not having much of a chance to do this with him working so much. Even if these weren't the best circumstances with him being so annoyed, it didn't matter to you. You just wanted him.

Jungwon locked lips with yours again as he continued his thrusts, the both of you already coming close to your releases. Eventually, he stopped kissing you and just kept his mouth on yours as he let out louder groans of pleasure, your moans filling his ears as you covered his cock in your cum. He thrust into you a few more times before his hips stilled and he released inside of you.

Jungwon remained inside of you for a few minutes before pulling out, your guys' seed making a mess as it poured out of you. Jungwon fixed his bottoms before going to the nightstand and grabbing some tissues to clean you up.

Once you were cleaned up and dressed again, Jungwon sat down next to you on the end of the bed, looking over at you as he rested his weight on his palms that rested on the mattress.

"I love you, okay? I'm sorry that I've been working so much lately but it'll get better soon." Jungwon said and you just nodded, looking down at your lap. Jungwon moved one of his hands and gently took your chin in his grasp, turning your face to look at him. "You need to not be such a brat though. You know I don't like it."

-- link to my masterlist

#luvlucia #minors dni #enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen hard thoughts #yang jungwon #yang jungwon x reader #yang jungwon smut #jungwon smut #yang jungwon hard thoughts #kpop #kpop smut #angst #smut #established relationship

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bumblesimagines · 2 days

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Imagine:

Getting the attention of Tashi and Art

Request: Yes or No

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

Happy pride month!! Let's see if the wifi will let me post this. More Art than Tashi cause I'm a sucker for pathetic blondes.

~~~

His eyes tracked the ball back and forth, left to right, taking in the swings from both players. (Y/N) swung his racket, sending the ball back over the net. Art's eyes lingered on his face, taking in the knitted brow, serious look on his face. Sweat trickled down his forehead and temple from the heat and exertion, though he hardly had to try against Tashi. The ball flew by her before she could even get close to hitting it, her leg wobbling and threatening to give out from under her.

Art's throat tightened. "Tashi-"

"I'm fine!" She snapped, her knuckles whitening from her grip on the racket. Tashi's chest and shoulders lifted and lowered with her heavy pants, sweat similarly covering her features. She looked tense. Angry. Distraught. Tashi cursed under her breath and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand as she snatched her water from the ground and drank. Art turned back to the other player when he did similarly, taking his bottle from the bench and drinking before patting his neck and face dry a rag.

"Hey," Art walked toward him, glancing over his shoulder at the girl. "She's still injured, man. Could you go easy on her?"

"She asked to play." (Y/N) reminded him gruffly, tossing the rag over his bag and arching a brow at him. Art swallowed thickly, eyes instinctively averting elsewhere. He hardly ever spoke with (Y/N). He'd been given enough warning to steer clear by his classmates but Tashi seemed determined to at least win one round.

"I can't play against someone too scared to hurt me to play right." Tashi had told him when they arrived at the court that early afternoon. Art's gaze immediately snapped over to him. It always did. He couldn't help it. (Y/N) was as captivating and terrifying as Tashi. Quick, cutthroat, and with a glare that could stop hearts. Art remembered the first time he'd been held under that glare. He'd felt himself physically shrink back into a nonexistent shell like a damn turtle. "At least he'll take me seriously."

"If she hurts herself again-"

"That's her problem, sweetheart." Art inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring slightly as his words jabbed right into his lower stomach, a satisfying heat shooting up his spine. (Y/N) stared right at him, straight through him really, and the mixture of irritation, mockery, and apathy made Art look back at him with a glare. He cared about Tashi, so much so he'd been willing to wedge himself between her and Patrick. Patrick lost her and now, Art had a chance with the girl he'd been enthralled with.

"You don't always have to be a dick, you know?" Art meant to sneer, to sound assertive and angry, and he was. But holding eye contact with (Y/N) made his stomach twist, just like it had when he first laid eyes on Tashi and listened to her victory cheer. It was a breathtaking feeling, one that made his nerves jitter and his skin flush.

A beat of silence followed and Art pressed his lips tightly together, waiting for some sort of reaction that'd land him a visit to the nurse. Instead, (Y/N) scoffed. "Get used to it, Donaldson. I won't baby you or your girlfriend just because you asked. If you have a problem-" (Y/N) leaned in, bumping the tips of their noses together and piercing into him with his eyes. "-cry about it."

"Hey," Tashi called out to them and Art's head snapped in her direction. She watched them, brow slightly arched and free hand bouncing a tennis ball until she had their full attention. "Come on. One more match."

"No." (Y/N) exhaled heavily and leaned back, picking up his bag from the bench and stuffing the bottle inside. Art and Tashi looked back at him, questions forming on the tips of their tongue that (Y/N) dismissed with a simple roll of his neck and a few words. "You've bored me. I'll see you around."

Tashi blinked at him dumbfoundedly, the racket slipping from her grasp and legs moving to quickly walk after him as he made his way off the court. "The hell do you mean by that? I'm fine, I swear. I just need to train." She assured him, her long braid swinging back and forth with her rapid movements. The borderline desperation in her voice did little to slow him down and she grunted in annoyance, quickening her step into a brief jog to cut in front of him. "What is it? What did Art say to you?"

"Nothing, Duncan. He's worried about you, is all." (Y/N) shrugged. "Besides, another match like that and you would've hurt yourself. Cut your losses and move on."

"And how the hell am I supposed to do that?" Tashi sounded breathless, weak even. She hated it. She hated admitting she knew no matter how many doctors she visited, how many hours she trained to rebuild her strength and work on the court... she'd never go back to what it once was. Forced to retire before her career had even truly started all because of being too in her head during a match. "Tennis is all I know. I can't- I can't abandon it, not like this. Do you know how hard I've worked for this?" She can feel the tears pricking the back of her eyes, the fast beat of her heart, and trembling hands. It was overwhelming. It was infuriating.

(Y/N) stared at her, his fingers holding onto the strap of his bag and rubbing into the rough fabric in thought. "I don't give a shit about anything you do, Tashi. You're not my friend, not my competition, or someone I even think about. But as a fellow player, I suggest becoming part of someone's team. Assistant coach, partner, whatever the hell you think suits you. But if you keep playing like this, you're going to fuck up your leg beyond repair. You always need a backup plan in sports."

Tashi crossed her arms and took a deep breath, tilting her head up toward the sky and nodding weakly. Her parents would support her regardless of what she chose to do but she knew, deep down she knew, that they'd always be disappointed she never reached her full potential. "Yeah," She exhaled softly. "Yeah, you're right."

"Always." She let out a breathy chuckle and rolled her eyes at his cocky tone, eyes trailing after him when he departed down the sidewalk in the direction of the locker rooms. He reminded her of Patrick, a better improved less annoying version at least. Or maybe he reminded her of herself. Tashi bit the inside of her cheek. The potential was far too great to ignore.

"Hey, you okay? How are you feeling?" Art's sweet voice filled her ears and she peered at him over her shoulder, spotting her belongings in his hand and that scrunched-up, worried look on his face. So dutiful, so warm. The perfect person to mend into whatever she wanted, whatever she needed. Her aching leg grounded her and she sighed.

"I'm fine." She muttered. God, how many times had she uttered those words since the match? Everyone treated her like cracked glass ready to break at any given moment. She was stronger than that. Better than that. Why could nobody see that? "I'm... I'm gonna get some rest, Art. I'll see you tomorrow, 'kay?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course." Art nodded, his poofy curls bouncing off his forehead as he offered over her things and offered her a smile. "Want me to walk you back?"

"No, it's alright."

"Take care, Tashi." Art sighed quietly and watched her walk away, unable to stop himself from looking down at the brace wrapped tightly around her knee. Her limp had mostly disappeared, only noticeable if one looked for it, but he could tell Tashi wanted nothing more than to go back to how things were. If only she and Patrick hadn't argued that morning, if only he'd won the match and gotten her number instead. Did Patrick deserve it? Art tried not to be a sore loser or a shitty friend, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't a smidge glad to know he wouldn't be coming around anytime soon.

Guilt crept in pretty quickly and he shoved his hands in his pocket, turning his sights on the locker rooms and heading toward them. He'd hardly played as much as the others, but his skin still felt sticky and dirty from the sweat he'd accumulated. Cool air greeted him when he stepped inside and he maneuvered his way around the halls and lockers, greeting familiar faces that exited with nods and smiles until he noticed the familiar figure stripping by one of the open lockers. Art averted his eyes at first and then slowly shifted them back to the tennis player.

"Take a picture, Art," The blonde flinched, heat erupting in his neck and traveling rapidly throughout his body. (Y/N) peeled his shorts from his legs, head angled toward the younger guy, and lazy smirk only fueling Art's embarrassment. "It'll last longer." He tossed the shorts and boxers over his bag and stepped around the lockers, the familiar squeal of the shower handle turning echoing through the partially empty room.

"I-" Art clamped his mouth shut and cleared his throat, bidding goodbye to the last of the guys in the locker room before he found his locker and began undressing. He retrieved a towel and placed it on one of the nearby sweats before stepping onto the cool tiled floor in the showers, sparing a glance at the player. "I wasn't... staring."

"You always stare." (Y/N) sighed, running a soapy hand over his shoulder and leaving a trail of foam behind that the cold droplets washed away. He tilted his head back, the water splashing against his chin and trickling down his throat. Art turned the handle, the cold water making him tense automatically but it soon gave way to relief when his warm skin cooled. He ran a hand through his curls, letting the water soak into them.

"You don't mind, though." Art said quietly, finding a new surge of confidence. (Y/N)'s brow twitched, the corners of his lips curling and eyes fluttering open to look at him. He stared at him questioningly, prompting Art to clear his throat again. "You don't care about tennis but you still play because... because you like attention."

"Bold statement, Donaldson. Especially from you." (Y/N) laughed and stepped toward him, leaning in again and tilting his head, eyes finally bright with something other than indifference or irritation. Art's lips parted, soft breaths escaping him. Another step and they'd be close enough to kiss. "You'd do anything for Tashi's attention. Anything for my attention. And you'll never have either, not for as long as you want."

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #challengers #challengers x reader #challengers x male reader #challengers x you #challengers x y/n #tashi duncan #tashi duncan x reader #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x male reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson x tashi duncan #art donaldson x y/n

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sillysistersusi · 1 day

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Craving Warmth

Fandom: Baldur's Gate

Astarion x Tav

Summary: Astarion doesn't know how to ask Tav to cuddle with him. Their relationship is still fresh, and he hasn't gotten used to the idea that she could love him for more than his body.

Warnings: Just the usual Astarion trauma

A/N: I recently discovered Bg3 and lets just say I'm addicted... 😅 I did only watch other people play it, though, since I have no money to buy it myself right now. But I hope I will be able to in the future.

Tav's chest rose and fell as she inhaled gently. Astarion had realised early on how much he enjoyed watching her sleep. She seemed so peaceful, as if nothing painful had ever happened to her. And every time he looked at her like that, he could forget all the pain deep inside of him for a brief moment.

But recently it was no longer enough just to watch her sleep. He wanted to touch her, press his face into the crook of her neck and breathe in her scent. He wanted her to touch him, stroke his back or run a hand through his hair.

He wanted to feel her warmth on his skin, feel her warm sleepy breath on his face. But he didn't know why.

They had made love only a few hours ago, why did he want to be close to her again? And why didn't he feel the slightest desire to touch her breasts or lose himself in her heat?

Astarion did not feel the same desire as usual. He wanted her body to press against his, not to make love, but to feel her warmth. He just didn't understand why he would want something like that. They already told each other that they loved each other, they had sex, that was all that loving was about. Why did he want her to stroke his hair or lie on top of him and surround him completely with her warmth without him wanting to take her?

Tav already gave him so much, why did he want more? Why should he want more? It wasn't fair, now he had something to live for, someone to live for, he became selfish.

She certainly wouldn't be so happy if she knew about all his thoughts. About the desire to bury his face in her shoulder when he felt the need to cry. About how he sometimes dreamed of what it would be like if she gently washed his hair. Those were strange thoughts. Thoughts that he had never thought before.

He should just sleep, he knew that, but whenever he closed his eyes and no longer saw her, he was enveloped in a fear he hadn't realised he could feel. He wanted her to be near him. He wanted to feel that Tav was there. That he was not alone, because he was so afraid of that. Thoughts of the darkness in which he had been alone for so long came up when he closed his eyes. Memories of the blood on his hands and the pain in a heart that had long ago stopped beating.

He needed Tav, because he felt safe with her. Secure. As if he could forget the last two hundred years if only she held him tight enough.

Astarion reached out a hand and placed it on the back of one of her hands, which lay stretched out next to her sleeping body.

Her skin was so soft and felt more soothing than anything else. But it wasn't enough. He wanted to feel more of her, and he knew that was wrong. He should be satisfied with what he had and not be so greedy. That Tav wanted anything from him at all was a miracle in itself. After all, he was used and dirty and broken. He'd liked to cover it up at first, but now that they were together he couldn't push those thoughts back down anymore. So many hands had touched his body that he never wanted to feel on him. On so many evenings when all he wanted was to be held by another person. Even though there was no one who would have liked him enough to hug him back then. He had been alone.

Until now.

Now he had Tav, and feeling her warmth was enough to not feel alone anymore. Her hands on his skin wiped away the unwanted touches of the others that made him feel unclean. But when she wasn't touching him, it felt like his skin was covered in a layer of dirt. As if he could feel every handprint on his skin that didn't come from her, that wasn't wanted.

Tav had never touched him when he didn't ask her to, so why did he want her touch so much now.

And because Astarion couldn't control himself, he moved closer to her. If he had had a beating heart, it would have been pounding like crazy.

He stopped an inch before he actually touched her and only leant his forehead lightly against her shoulder.

But what now? He couldn't stay like this for the rest of the night. He was too afraid she would wake up before him and see him like this.

"Astarion?"

His heart sank. He had woken her. And only because he couldn't pull himself together. Why did he always have to think only of himself? He had managed without the warmth of another person for so long, so why hadn't he managed it this one night?

"I'm sorry- "

But at the same moment, she said with a worried undertone in her voice: "You're all shivering, are you all right, Astarion?"

And when he looked up, he saw only concern in her face, not anger. He was expecting anger. He had done something wrong. He had gone too far. Tav should be angry.

His vision blurred, but he swallowed most of his tears. But it was too late, Tav had seen the gleam in his eyes, for her gaze softened even more.

"What happened?" she breathed softly, and the sound of her voice alone was enough to increase Astarion's desire to be held in her arms.

He wanted to lie. Tell her it was nothing and that she should go back to sleep, but he knew Tav wouldn't believe him and wouldn't rest until she knew. It was his fault. He had let it get this far, and now he had to make up for his mistake.

"I wanted to feel your warmth," he whispered, watching her face for a change in expression, but nothing came. Her gaze remained gentle, like a spring breeze. "But- but not like usual. It was- it was different. I didn't want to sleep with you, I just wanted to lie close to you. And I wanted to feel your hands on me. Not like when we make love, but different. Softer. I- " he swallowed as he felt a squeeze behind his eyes. "I wanted you to stroke my hair."

"Astarion, my little star," Tav whispered. He could feel her warm breath on his face. And like every time she used that nickname, he just melted. There was a small part of him that would probably never get used to the way she gently said his name. Like he wasn't a monster. Like he wasn't something disgusting. He sounded beautiful in her voice. "You know there's more to love than just sex, right?"

Astarion pressed his lips together. He had seen other couples holding hands or dancing. But that was something he couldn't have, right? He didn't deserve it.

All he could offer Tav was his body. It was the only part of him that was beautiful, but it was used and dirty. If Tav wanted him the way he wanted her, then his body was all he could offer her.

Everything else about him was weak and broken, and even if he dared to show that side to her, it could never be the reason she loved him.

Obviously he had been silent for too long, because Tav's eyebrows had drawn together in a worried expression. She placed a hand on his cheek. Her soft skin felt wonderful. As if she could heal his deepest wounds by just touching him. "I love everything about you. If you were to tell me today that you wished we never slept with each other again, than we just wouldn't. All I want is for you to be happy. Having sex is a nice addition, but it's never the reason for love. I could do without it for you and I wouldn't miss it a day because you'd still be there and that is what really matters."

He didn't know what to say. It was as if he could feel blood flowing through his veins again, he felt so warm.

"Come here," she whispered, lying down on her back and spreading her arms.

After craving it all evening, he didn't need to be told twice. He carefully climbed under the blanket, which she had lifted a little for him, and settled down gently on her invitingly warm body. He placed one of his legs between hers and his chest rested gently on hers. He could feel her heartbeat. The beat of a heart that loved him. And even though he found it hard to really take in her words, he believed her. Because Tav had proven time and again that she wasn't lying to him or playing with his feelings. She meant what she said.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck and inhaled her wonderful scent deeply.

And then, all of a sudden, he felt one of her hands find its way to his curls and begin to gently stroke them. He couldn't stop a soft whimper from escaping his lips.

Tav's warmth enveloped him and he felt safe.

And by lying on top of her, he felt like he was protecting her from something too. As if he was not only taking from her but also giving something.

He felt Tav's soft lips on his forehead before she whispered, "It's all right. I've wanted to cuddle with you for a long time too, my star, I was just afraid you weren't ready yet. I wanted to give you time."

"Thank you," Astarion whispered against her hot skin. "I appreciate it. You're always so considerate of me, and I'm so grateful for that." His voice broke a little on the last word, because the truth was terrifying. Tav could ask anything of him and he would do it without giving it a second thought. Only she had that power over him. But she didn't use it. She didn't take advantage of him. She treated him with respect, like he was a sentient being and not a thing to be used and thrown away as soon as it was broken.

Tav got the best out of him. Something he hadn't even realised was there before he met her.

"That's not what you should thank for, love." she said softly. "I love you, and someone who loves you, really loves you, would never hurt you."

Astarion knew she was speaking the truth. He knew that Tav wouldn't hurt him. And this certainty gave him stability in many moments.

"I love you too, darling," he whispered softly before kissing the skin on her neck gently and finally being ready to close his eyes.

#astarion #tav #tav bg3 #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate tav #bg3 tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfiction

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pharawee · 2 days

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Back in May I bought Khemjira's Rescue on meb, happy that there finally was an official English translation because I love horror and actually liked the first pilot teaser for Spirit Reborn - even though it wasn't well received.

I now know why the teaser wasn't well received (the official version has since been deleted and there's only some re-uploads left) and I agree. Khemjira isn't really a classic QL where the story centres around two people falling in love. It's a horror novel first (and the novel's content warning is very open about this). Much of the romance only happens in the bonus chapters. It's also steeped in Isan folklore and Theravadin Buddhist teachings and virtues, with heavy and uncompromising themes of karma, rebirth, right action and non-attachment (which I really appreciate but might not be everyone's cup of tea because it completely ignores concepts of justice and revenge).

The novel itself is translated really well with only a few editorial slip-ups but tons of footnotes to explain potentially unfamiliar concepts and give translations for the recited khatha. The bonus chapters are plentiful and rewarding if you're into romance and the usual level of BL novel spiciness, but even without them the narrative flows really well and comes to a satisfying conclusion. I really liked the novel - it might be my favourite right after I Feel You Linger in the Air - so I was slightly apprehensive when Mandee announced that they had acquired the rights for a new adaptation.

I don't know the actors at all so I only have the novel to go by, but all in all I'm really happy with Mandee's pilot teaser. It's so close to the novel that even seemingly short filler scenes are recognisably taken from moments in the story. And while I still think Keng Harit is a bit too young as Por Kru Parun, he manages to capture his commanding and alluring presence very well.

My only worry now is that they'll downplay the religious themes in order to elevate the romance between, well, basically everyone. I couldn't even blame them though, because most of the audience will be expecting romance, and the series probably wouldn't be very well received if both couples remained chaste until the very end. I don't think Khemjira's Rescue even qualifies as slow-burn for reasons I'll explain a bit later (and behind a spoiler warning).

But first, a bit more about the main characters because I've seen some confusion about their names etc. I'll keep these as spoiler-free as Mandee's pilot teaser was so if you've watched that then you're all set.

Khemjira is cursed, as are all male descendants of his family, doomed to die before their 20th birthday (the series changes it to 21). His mother gave him a traditionally female name to confuse the curse but to no avail: as he grows older he's more and more troubled by the heavy and malevolent presence of spirits. These are kept at bay by an amulet given to to him by a venerable Por Kru (a practicioner of Buddhist white magic) but when that's no longer enough, his friend Jhet introduces him to his teacher Por Kru Parun who lives in a small Isan village. Despite the burden of bad karma, Khem is a good person who always tries his best even when he feels like giving up.

Por Kru Parun (the series calls him Karan) is a respected practicioner of Buddhist white magic. He lives in a traditional wooden house outside of a small Isan village and protects his community from spiritual harm. He learned from his grandfather (who was himself a respected Por Kru) and also spent many years ordained as a monk. Because he lives by the precepts (which go beyond the five precepts of laypeople) he seems detached and aloof, often wearing dark sunglasses so others won't get charmed by him. His real (nick)name is Peem but he only starts using it with Khem once the two get romantically involved.

Jhettana and Charnvit (aka Jhet and Charn) are Khem's best friends. Khem meets Jhet during freshman orientation when Jhet senses the malevolent spirits around him. It's also Jhet who suggests visiting his teacher Por Kru Parun in his home province. They do this during a university excursion. This is how they meet Charn who's part of the student trip and very suspicious about what they're doing. Charn is extremely polite, addressing everyone as Khun. He wears glasses to aid his bad vision. Both Jhet and Charn are extremely protective of Khem, choosing to become Parun's students in order to help save him. They're also the secondary couple with a surprising past connection.

These two boys are Thong and Ake, Parun's spirit servants. They're the ghosts of 12-year-old twins that already served Parun's grandfather. They also have a surprising role to play in things to come.

SOME SPOILERS FOR THE MIDDLE OF THE NOVEL

As for why the romance can only happen after Khemjira's curse has been lifted: as practitioners of white magic, Parun and his students Jhet and Charn have to adhere to the precepts. These include abstinence from unchastity, so they should remain non-attached to thoughts of sexual and romantic nature. If one of these precepts is broken, all of them are considered broken (which makes it impossible to practice white magic) - Khemjira's rescue would fail if any of them got involved romantically. Parun knows that he's mindful enough to remain non-attached until the curse has been dealt with. He also knows that he can't expect the same of Khem so he refuses to take him as his student (which is fortunate because that way we get to read about Khem's pining).

And beyond the horror and the romance, there's also a third element that heavily features in the story: rebirth. All of the characters' fates are interwoven through several past lives, and I'm really curious how Mandee will decide to tackle this added layer of complexity and identity. In The Sign, Idolfactory used the same actors througout every past life (while 1000 Years Old used different actors with the same identifying birth mark). In Khemjira's Rescue the past identities of some of the characters are incredibly important and I'd hate to see them getting erased by using the same actors to better fit with BL marketing. It was so rewarding to find out that Jhet and Charn were starcrossed lesbian lovers in a past life and I'd love it if they kept that reveal for the series as well.

Oh, and also? Yes, there's going to be at least one naga. 🙌

END OF SPOILERS

Ultimately, if Mandee truly commits to playing the long game and doesn't simplify the story in order to appeal to marketing opportunities, this could end up being one of the best Thai BL series to come. From what I saw, the actors can definitely pull it off, and the fact that the 11 minute long trailer focuses so much on novel-accuracy is very promising already. Just don't have Parun and Khem get it on too early. Sometimes you have to keep it in your pants for a bit in order to save the day. 🙏

#khemjira #khemjira the series #khemjira's rescue #keng harit #namping napatsakorn #thai bl novels #jane watches stuff #if you loved the ifylita novel and aren't fazed by horror you'll love this too #some of the themes are quite heavy though #(probably not as much if you're familiar with buddhist teachings)

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khunyuki · 1 day

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"I've lived my life with blade and you always in my mind"

a. You will always have a special place in my heart

Synopsis: Having the infamous Vice-Captain of the Third Division of the Defense Force as your fiance isn't easy especially when the rest of the force expects you to be strong enough to be worthy to be by his side along with your family demanding you to finally get married and give them an heir. The continuous onslaught of expectations and demands from all sides keeps you up at night when you think about how you don't really have a good relationship with him. Or at least that's what you thought... Her: I've loved you ever since I first saw you Him: I've loved you even before I met you

Pairing/s: Soshiro Hoshina x Fiancee!OC

Notes: I am posting this first because I thought it would be better to show their good relationship first than the planned main story. Soshiro is down bad for his fiancee.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Childhood Sweethearts, School Romance

Masterlist: TOC

One of the happiest days in Uzui Kagami's life was the day, she and Soshiro became engaged as children. During her earliest memories, she absolutely adored her parents' relationship and dreams to have the same once she got older. To her surprise, a visit to some place other than her house changed the trajectory of her life! Why? Because her dream has finally come true! At least half of it did.

From that moment onwards, she would often visit the Hoshina estate to train with them and be with her fiance. Poor Kagami was so shy that despite this being what she wanted, she couldn't even bring herself to come near him, satisfied with just watching him from afar.

Kagami would hide behind a pillar or a wall and watch the Hoshina brothers train, with her eyes on Soshiro and Soshiro only. She would admire his skills, his looks, his growth, and his persistence. Not that she could tell him that, she couldn't even be in the same room as him without clamming up.

For the first few weeks of introduction, she would gaze at him from afar until his older brother could no longer handle it. Soichiro-niisan dragged her out of her hiding spot like a wet kitten and placed her on the sidelines to observe closely. She tried to run away but ultimately failed from his tight grip.

"Kagami-chan, you don't have to peek from afar when you could just watch here"

Soichiro-niisan tried to smile softly in order to calm the girl he just dragged over. But all it did was to make her cower and fidget uncomfortable while looking down.

"Don't bully her, nii-san"

Soshiro, with his two bamboo swords, hit his brother with their swordstyle mercilessly.

"Ouch! Wait! Soshiro! I'm sorry so please stop already!"

Having been caught off guard with no weapons, Soichiro would've accept his hits if it didn't hurt so much. It was rare to see this side of his brother, after all.

Once he stopped, only then did Soshiro turn to look at Kagami. She had long since stopped cowering and was now admiring him. Was he her prince charming or her knight in shining armor? Maybe both, cause him saving her made her like him even more.

"You can just stay here and watch"

He said so coolly with much composure and returned to his training. Kagami could only blush, trying to hide how giddy she was feeling.

As a child, Hoshina Soshiro didn't bother to understand what his family were talking about if it wasn't related to training or kaijus. He would attempt, yes, but his young brain still isn't able to comprehend it well.

They said something about an engagement between him and someone he will meet that day. He doesn't mind if it's something his parents decide for him. Arranged marriages are common like his older brother who already has a fiancee too.

It truly dawned on him from the moment his eyes laid on a particular shy girl that just entered the room. She was hiding behind her father but would peek out several times. He could only catch glimpses of her but he could already feel the pounding of his heart.

It was weird. He never experienced such having his heart beating so fast when resting. Was it because she reminds him of a squirrel, so cute and fidgety? He didn't know but when their eyes met, it felt like arrow shot through his heart.

It was love at first sight.

Soshiro was blushing madly for the very first time and his older brother doesn't help at all with all his teasing. Maybe it was the commotion that his brother was making that set their engagement in stone.

Cause when Kagami looked up from her bow, he was already avoiding her eyes. Especially once he saw her hopeful face and sparkly eyes. It struck a critical hit to his heart.

From that moment onwards, he would see her around the estate. She would sometimes be training on the dojo or watch him and his brother train from afar. Whenever she's watching, he couldn't help but take glimpses of her causing him to be distracted and lose cue his older brother's teasing.

As much as he wanted to look cool, he couldn't really do it after losing to his brother, can he? The saving grace for him would be when his brother picked her up and put her down next to him. It annoyed him when he did so cause how could his brother touch his fiancee like that. Soshiro was able to look cool by 'defending' her from his brother.

Be that as it may, it was truly bad for his young heart to have her around him like this. How could he remain calm when she's been staring at him the whole time. If he did talk to her while looking at her face, he can't guarantee not stuttering in front of her.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~AGE 5~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

It didn't take long for the two of them to be close enough to feel comfortable with each other's presence. They could just sit on the porch without talking and they're already content with it. Occasionally, they would spar until it became a bonding moment just for the two of them.

Most of their progress was all thanks to Soichiro-niisan who decided that it was his duty to be as meddlesome as possible in his brother's lovelife. He, not only would egg on his little brother by calling him weak, but also tease him in front of his crush. It contributed to the explosive growth of Soshiro when his task is to keep his older brother's mouth shut tightly from embarrassment.

Soshiro would continue to lose over and over again but demands to have a rematch even if it meant having tantrums in front of Kagami. He knew he was losing face by doing so but he atleast wanted to look cool yet his brother kept denying him of that.

Much to Soichiro-niisan's surprise and pleasure, his taunts did not only work on his little brother but also his little sister-in-law. As clueless she may be, she could tell if the words being said were an insult to her fiancee. Kagami would bring out her meanest look and glare at her big brother-in-law.

During those times, Kagami would scold him for bullying his little brother and say that Soshiro is the best swordsman in the world despite being so young and he could beat him because he's always been working hard and putting in effort more than anyone else. It would only be at the end that she realizes that it was all a bait from the smirk on his face as he leave the two blushing figures alone.

It still took a while for them to be close enough to make eye contact with being a mess. But atleast they got to talk to each other as a result.

To Hoshina Soshiro, it was the beginning of something new.

To Uzui Kagami, it was the start of her dream come true.

It was the age of innocence where seeds have been planted, not knowing what kind of fruit it will bear.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~AGE 7~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Two years after their engagement, they were now a bit more mature yet still childish. They understand that they have duties to perform and live up to expectations of the adults. Such burdens, when introduced to children was a lot of pressure to say the least.

Soshiro acknowledging to himself that he is a reject compared to his perfect brother. Only his persistence to wield the sword was his salvation.

Kagami having to face countless trials not knowing that it might never end in the pursuit of perfection. In hopes of being acknowledged by her family despite her grief.

Just last year, Kagami's mother died along with her unborn baby brother. It was an unfortunate incident where a kaiju appeared near the hospital on the day of her checkup and they got caught in the aftermath. Ever since then, her father became a different person along with her other clan members.

The shift in the atmosphere was so obvious that even Kagami, as dense as she is, could feel it. She was restricted from visiting the Hoshina estate in order to prepare herself as the sole heir to the head of the clan. Many times she wished to run away but she couldn't do so because whenever she got caught, more punishment would just await her.

Her solace was when the Hoshinas would come to visit. They would dress her up and tell her to smile and act like nothing happened to not disgrace her family any further. In which, she does so without question cause just meeting her fiancee was enough for her.

Soshiro felt a pleasant surprise with how Kagami welcomed him to her home with much excitement but maybe that was just him missing her as it has been a long time since they last met each other.

As they were given the time to be alone, he knew that it was an act shown to the people around them. Only with him does she show her real face, as does he. Their comfort is with each other, comrades in their struggles at their young age.

In the place where Hoshina Soshiro believes that he is a reject, to Uzui Kagami he is perfect just the way he is.

In the place where Uzui Kagami has to be perfect in every way, to Hoshina Soshiro her imperfections are part of her charms.

The seeds have been nurtured and sprouted, taking root into the deepest pits of their hearts.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~AGE 13~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Middle school is the place where young teens start to experience such things called hormones. Spring is the moment of encounters but it is also the season of love.

Kagami doesn't think that being in middle school would change anything as it is just a small part of her life. She didn't think it was as important as her life back at home. That's what she try to tell herself because it's been over a year and she never had any friends yet.

It doesn't matter does it, she thought. But in reality, she blames her shy personality and being an introvert for making her lose out on things. Her pessimistic attitude doesn't help as it only makes things worse.

Hormones were the worst thing ever as it developed her body in the most uncomfortable ways like the sudden growth of her chest and the hellish pain of losing blood on a monthly basis. It also messes up her mind by giving her complicated thoughts and the sudden influx of emotions was enough to make her crazy as she has to act like nothing is happening.

There was one thing she believes in though. Love. It was something she already experienced herself and will continue to do so in the future. This age only gives her fantasies of what she wants their relationship to be like if she gets the courage to make a move.

"What are you thinking to make you smile like that?"

Soshiro asked as he long put down his book in order to observe her. Since when? She didn't know but being caught in the act itself was enough to make her feel embarrassed.

"I-It's nothing!"

While she tried to cover her face with the book on her hands, Soshiro pretended to think by placing his thumb and index finger on his chin before he revealed a mischievous grin.

"Were you... Thinking about me? Even though I'm right in front of you?"

Hoshina Soshiro struck a homerun! If only the ground could swallow her whole so that she could hide, but there is no hole to hide inside the library. She had to settle with pressing the book closer to her face as that's the only way she could hide.

"You're so cute~"

Soshiro chuckled with his eyes open as she fidgets around and didn't know what to do. Can a human being possibly melt? Cause she's combusting so much she could melt.

"Please stop teasing me"

She let go of her book and buried her face in her arms on the table to hide her burning face. It was a futile attempt as she was already caught but she still did it anyways. At least let her keep her dignity!

She could hear him getting up from his seat and sitting beside her. His fingers brushing her hair and tucking it behind her burning ears.

"It's true though"

He paused and she couldn't help but take a peek at the rustling beside her. He was in the same position as hers yet peeking at her with his eyes open, showing that soft and sweet smile that is exclusively for her eyes only. Maintaining eye contact to show the seriousness of his words.

"For me, you're the prettiest girl in the entire world"

Uzui Kagami.exe has stopped working.

Hoshina Soshiro.exe has also stopped working.

Thank goodness it was only the two of them in the library at this hour, otherwise, it would be the listeners who dies at second-hand embarrassment from their flirting.

The buds of youth quivers at its desire to bloom.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~AGE 15~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Hoshina Soshiro has made it a habit to tease his fiancee whenever possible. He couldn't help it when her reactions are so cute and amusing. He feels proud to being the only one with the right to see her like that.

He often smirks and act smug in front of his classmates and the other boys in their school, those he clearly knew has a blatant crush on his fiancee. Sometimes he wishes that she knows just how popular she is so she could feel confident in herself but at the same time he's glad she doesn't know.

It was always clear as day that she favors him more than any other, to him and to the people around them. To others, she would grace a polite smile and only answer their questions professionally. With him, she would laugh at his jokes and engage in conversations. Showing off that sweet smile that captivates anyone who sees it, including Soshiro.

Soshiro didn't know how many times he had to control himself from glomping at her and keeping her by his side, somewhere only he can see. The same smile that critically hit his heart on the first day they met continues to do so every single day, each time getting more powerful.

When he reminisces on their first meeting to now, he could see the improvement on their relationship for they had grown closer than before. If in the future, they continue to be together while working and get married then have kids---.

Stop! He's getting ahead of himself when they hadn't even hold hands yet... Wait... They haven't hold hands yet?

"Soshiro? Soshiro! Are you okay? You suddenly slapped yourself"

Asked Kagami with eyes filled with concern at his unexpected actions, not knowing she was the cause of it.

"It was nothing"

"Eh? Are you sure? That looks painful though"

She lifted her arm so her hand could touch the growing bruise on his cheeks. The feeling of her fingers gingerly touching his cheeks like it was something fragile and precious felt like static so he winced.

"It is painful! Come on, let's go to the infirmary to dress it okay?"

She immediately held his hand like it was a natural thing to do and dragged him to the infirmary. Soshiro felt stupid at his earlier thought. Who said they haven't hold hands yet? They were doing it now, weren't they?

Still, he hopes she doesn't turn around to look at him so she wouldn't see just how red his face is.

Since then, Soshiro keeps making excuses to touch her hand. He doesn't need to since she'll gladly let him do so anytime.

You must give it sufficient nutrients in order to bloom.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~AGE 18~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Ever since they were children, they've been training hard to join the defense force as their ultimate goal. To slay kaijus, serve their country, and make their family proud.

After passing the written exams, Uzui Kagami and Hoshina Soshiro are confident in their abilities to pass the second part of the exams as well.

"Are you nervous?"

Soshiro asked the girl beside him as they stand in front of the venue, squeezing her hand in comfort.

"Just a little bit"

Kagami placed her free hand on her chest, not only was she nervous of the exams but also the thought of encountering new people.

"Me too. But we've been working hard for this for a very long time, haven't we?"

Soshiro despite being nervous himself cheered her up. In doing so, cleared both his and her worries.

"You're right"

Giving one last squeeze on each other's hands, they walked inside and took the test.

The two of them settled inside a cafe as they revealed the envelopes that will change their lives.

"Somehow, i'm getting nervous that my hands are shaking"

Kagami said as she attempted to stop her shaking, the tension was making her hands clammy and sweaty.

"Do you want to open it now?"

Soshiro was calm, seeing her this fussy once more felt like his nervousness was transferred to her instead of him. He felt guilty but still thinks she was cute like this.

"No matter the outcome, i'll still be proud of you"

He tried to comfort her with his words though it somehow only deepened her frown.

"I can't have that. We have to pass together"

With deep concentration, she took her envelope in her hands and opened it. Though struck by her resolve, he could only smile and shake his head, copying her actions.

Uzui Kagami/Hoshina Soshiro, as a result of you satisfactory performance, you have PASSED the exam.

A moment of silence before...

"We did it! We passed!"

With a rare outburst of joy, Kagami hurriedly moved out her seat to his and tackled him with a hug. Soshiro was expecting them to both pass but it truly does bring him joy when she expresses her happiness so well.

It was one of the rare instances that he sees of her initiating things. And he was indulging in it.

"Let's celebrate this occasion with some Mont Blanc and coffee"

Kagami called for the waiter and gave their orders. At the same time, she went back to her seat after recovering from her high. It felt like they could hear each other's thoughts as they both bowed to each other.

"Let's continue to work together from now on. Please take care of me"

Rewarding their hard work and efforts, the flower finally bloomed.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~Early 20's~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Kagami and Soshiro joined the same division and stayed there together, having only each other's backs. It wasn't without struggle for them as they both specialize in sword slaying. Kagami was more flexible of the two as her precision and accuracy was better in long distance range so she could easily pick up a gun, but still she prefers to use swords if she could.

On one particular day, she heard her fellow officers making fun of her and her fiancee. It would've been fine if they were insulting her only but they also had to insult him. She was usually calm and quiet, preferring to keep to herself but she would never let anyone who insults Soshiro continue to yap their mouths.

"Please take that back! Soshiro-san has been working hard this entire time and putting in double the effort more than anyone else! If you give him a chance, you will understand that he can shine even brighter when he uses his swordsmanship!"

Hoshina Soshiro wonders why there was a crowd forming just outside the training room, until he heard a familiar voice inside of it. That voice, usually so calm and quiet to the point of whisper, was loud enough to pique the attentions of passersby. It wasn't only her uncharacteristic outburst that was eye-catching but also the words she's saying were. For it was filled with praises for him.

Once Soshiro realized that he was the topic of the conversation, he felt shy but he wanted to stop her even more. He doesn't want her to fight their fellow officers nor does he want her to get scolded by their superiors.

After wrestling his way through the crowd, he finally dragged her away, offering apologies on her behalf. Even if they did deserve the scolding they received from her, and doesn't really want to apologize to them, he had to do so out of courtesy.

Once he got her away to somewhere private, she was still quite upset, eyes glistening with unshed tears. She refused to look at his face and look down.

"I appreciate you defending me, Kagami. However, it's not like you to be that angry"

Soshiro urges her to look at him, to stare at his eyes by placing his hands on her cheeks. Once she look up, he could see the sad expression on her face. She was sad for him.

"They went too far. They don't know how great of a person you are. You're the best when it comes to close combat and slaying small kaijus, you could eliminate more than any of them could yet they still..."

"Thank you"

He wanted her to say more but her current state wouldn't let her. She was a bawling mess in his hands as he wipes away her tears. It was her first time crying in front of him yet he felt happy. All because she was thinking of him, all of it was for his sake and never yours.

The truth is, he was so incredibly touched by his fiancee's actions. It almost moved him to tears himself. Everyone wanted him to stop, his superiors and his family, yet she hopes that he could keep going. She pushes him to do what he loves despite people saying otherwise.

If they weren't at work right now, or if they were somewhere more private than the place he chose, he would've kissed her on the lips. He just settled for the forehead instead then he hugs her while patting her head. He whispered once again.

"Thank you"

The little flower happily showers in the rain filled with love.

#soshiro fell in love at first sight #child soshiro is down bad for his fiancee #middle schooler soshiro is down bad for his fiancee #high schooler soshiro is a loser for his fiancee #pre-main story soshiro loves his fiancee #kaiju no.8 #hoshina soshiro x reader #hoshina soshiro x oc #hoshina soshiro #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #soshiro hoshina x oc #yukikhun

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daimyosprincess · 3 days

Text

WORTH THE RISK

—PAIRING: Dad's Friend!Boba Fett x F!Reader

—SUMMARY: Pushing your luck has its rewards.

—WORD COUNT: 10.8k

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

—TAGS & WARNINGS: second person narration, no use of y/n, explicit sexual content, alternate universe, dad’s friend!Boba, reader has parents mentioned in the story, age gap relationship between an older man and younger woman (reader is an adult), secret relationship, dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink, oral sex (m receiving), throat fucking, unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up irl), light choking, this is straight up filth y’all I’m not even joking, if the previous things are not your cup of tea this will not be the fic for you 🥴

Please let me know if I missed anything!

—AUTHOR'S NOTES: I'll post this fic in a couple weeks! literally a month later here we are besties, the dad's friend Boba fic inspired by @maybege's post!! this fic ended up taking waaaay longer than I expected since the story took a turn I didn't plan for, but I'm really happy with how it turned out in the end! big shout out to Moss for betaing and all the besties who sent me incoherent emoji scrambles for my snippets along the way 💖 enjoy y'all!

Read on AO3 — Masterlist — Taglist

Setting out the last of the dessert trays on your parents’ patio table, you swipe a hand over your forehead. A delightfully cool breeze ruffles the hem of your dress, signaling the coming summer evening and carrying the pleasant mixture of laughter and music from the backyard. Satisfied with the arrangement of treats, you look out over the party of family and friends gathered on the lawn: neighbors, coworkers, and family of all sorts gathered together for your parents’ annual cookout, which your father fondly calls the “Bar-bo-polooza” (and which your mother decidedly does not).

Scanning the crowd, you spot her bouncing their neighbor’s baby girl on her hip while your father diligently lectures her partner on proper grilling techniques over his beer. A swarm of kids darts around the party in what appears to be a high stakes game of tag, while a gaggle of your aunties and Uncle Steven are clumped together in tight conversation over the latest gossip. A smile curls up your lips—nothing bridges the generational or cultural divide quite like a juicy piece of insider knowledge.

Giving the yard a final skim, you give up on locating your boyfriend and head for your chair by the fire pit. You’re no sooner settled when you feel your phone buzz.

Your cheeks heat immediately reading Boba’s message. You still can’t see him from your seat, but you know wherever he is, he can certainly see you. Crossing your knees, you make sure your hem rides just high enough to still be considered appropriate for a family setting. Your phone vibrates again and your eyes dart to the new message on your screen.

A heated shiver snakes down your spine, pooling in the dampness already nestled between your thighs. Your plan to tease Boba to the edge of insanity is already taking its toll.

Logically, you know you shouldn’t be riling him up like this at a family function, but you can’t seem to stop yourself after he’s been out of town. You’ve missed his bone deep comfort, his small touches, and the safety of his arms. Hell, you’ve even missed the smell of him, breathing in that balmy spiciness that’s all his own.

Of course, you’ve also missed his keen knack for making you black out with pleasure. But who could possibly blame you for that? The man is nothing short of a god when it comes to making you feel good, so it’s not your fault you rubbed him half hard in the driveway or brushed up against him in your flirty new sundress during the party set up. Besides, you’d been an absolute angel in his absence: texting him that you remembered to take your meds, drank enough water every day, and not touched where you wanted him most just like he asked.

Really, you’d been a complete saint. You only texted him those two dirty pictures because he asked for them. If anything, Boba should be rewarding you for your restraint instead of making you survive this cookout aching and desperate before he took you home and made good on all his filthy promises. Just the thought of what he said he’d do has your thighs pressing together. So, with a sly grin sneaking over your lips, you tap out a response.

Adrenaline pumping hot in veins, you hit send and click of your screen. You make a show of stretching so your tits press together, sure Boba’s got a laser focus on you after that message.

Feeling supremely pleased with yourself, you chuck your phone into the seat you’re saving for your cousin, Ari. You search for their telltale blue hair and catch it over by the drinks table. No surprise there, of course.

“My, my, my, such a dirty little mouth on such a pretty little girl.”

A hot shock of electricity shoots down your spine. Boba’s sinful voice races across your skin deceptively gentle, like a blade wrapped in dark velvet: sheathed, but no less dangerous.

Your pulse jumps under the thin skin of your throat. You don’t need to look up to know you’re in treacherous waters. His tone alone tells you everything you need to know—your “good” deeds never went unpunished with him, especially when you acted like you could get away with them. Putting your most dazzlingly innocent smile, you turn your face up to him, acting like you’re making pleasant conversation. “Wanna find out how dirty it can get?”

The corner of his lips twitch up. “Careful, princess.” His umber eyes burn with the unspoken magnitude of his threat. “You already owe me those pink panties of yours… don’t make me add to that list.”

Something hot and dangerous spikes in your core. You can practically feel his lips on your overheated skin, the scrape of his teeth down your neck. Luckily for your rapidly evaporating self-control, however, you catch Ari waving at you and you signal at their saved seat. The reprieve gives you a moment to swallow back the well of desire pressing against your throat. You’re already playing a dangerous game with your relationship—you really shouldn’t be adding to it by tempting fate, or Boba, in your parents’ backyard.

After moving to town two years ago, Boba and your dad had become fast friends, bonding over their love of classic cars and good whiskey. Freshly cut in your former employer’s downsizing, you had come home just after they had started spending weekends drinking and working on the old Chevy in your dad’s garage. It was over for you the second you saw him: broad shoulders, tanned, and impossibly gorgeous, Boba Fett was everything you ever wanted, wrapped up in a tight black t-shirt and well-fitted jeans. You never stood a chance.

For a torturous year you danced around your simmering mutual attraction, months filled with “accidental” touches and excuses to see each other more than strictly necessary for a daughter and her father’s friend. He gave you rides when your poor 2003 Toyota finally met its end, helped you move in with Ari, and even let you drunkenly cry on his shoulder at last summer’s cookout when you were sure your life was a failure. You really fell for him then. Hard.

Always teasing you with winks and flirty smiles, things finally came to a head at your parents’ New Year's Eve party. Scrabbling down the stairs for the countdown, you’d crashed right into him, his arms wrapping around your waist to halt your fall. By the time the voices outside yelled “Happy New Year,” you already had your hands (and mouths) all over each other.

The instant chemistry between you has only become more explosive since. In the almost six months of your relationship, you’ve orgasmed harder, louder, and more often than you thought was possible for a human being. But more importantly, you’ve also grown and learned a lot about yourself, with Boba coaxing you to embrace your needs without shame, both sexual and not. Mentally, you’re in a much better place than you were after you were let go from your dream job; and physically, well… you’ve never been more satisfied.

Of course, you’re not nearly ready to reveal all this to your parents.

Boba has respected your choice to keep your relationship a secret, despite his desire to claim you as his own every time your mother introduced you to some nice boy from her temp agency. Her mentioning that she invited “Kevin from Jimenez Landscaping” today is partially what made you decide on wearing the particular little sundress you had on. Not for him of course, but to drive Boba wild while you humored your mom and talked to the guy. The rest of your scheme—putting your hand down Boba’s pants behind his truck and digging yourself into a very deep hole over text—had been more or less spur of the moment.

Staring up at him now, dead serious with little patience left for mercy, has your insides twisting in tight, needy knots. Boba is a man of his word and not above leaving you unfulfilled when he thought you deserved it. Maker did he know how to make you squirm.

“Okay, okay,” you relent, doing your best to tamp down the need leaking into your voice. “I swear I’ll take them off when Ari gets back.”

You might be a brat but you’re not stupid: you know when you’ve flown too close to the sun.

He smiles then, smug and shining, leaning down to plant what appeared to be an unoffending, fatherly kiss on the crown of your head. “That’s more like it. Not so hard to be a good girl, now is it, darling?”

The sensual rasp of his whisper calls forth memories of love made sweet and long, making your stomach flip and tighten. Praying for the heat to leave your face, you clench your thighs together to ward them off.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

Your head snaps up to see Ari’s freckled face plastered with a sardonic expression. Your confidant since childhood, your cousin is the only person who knows about your relationship—and isn’t afraid to give you shit about it.

“Of course not,” Boba answers breezily, patting your shoulder, “we were just commenting on how perfect the weather turned out.”

Ari scoffs, dropping down next to you. “Yeah, sure. If anyone else here actually had eyes, they would see right through the two of you.”

You grin and accept the offered lemonade. “What? Can a young lady and a handsome older gentleman not talk at a party?”

Boba’s hand squeezes your shoulder in a silent warning to behave. Still glowing with his praise of “good girl” echoing in your ears, you opt to stay so.

“Last I checked, they can,” Ari gestures back and forth between you. “It’s just the ‘fuck me’ eyes that make it totally obvious you’re screwing.”

“I myself prefer the term ‘making love’ over ‘screwing,’” Boba chuckles.

Ari immediately makes retching noises, their face screwing up in disgust. “Making love?! What are you, like a thousand years old?” They hold up a hand. “You know what, never mind, I don’t even want to think about that more than I already have to.”

Despite your cousin’s reaction, his words bloom heat in your stomach. As good as Boba is at straight up fucking, he also loves you so tenderly and slowly some nights it nearly brings you to tears. With sweet kisses wrapped in praise and gentle touches laced with assurances that you were his and he was yours, he crafted a devotion more sincere and pure than you thought your heart could hold.

Ari elbows you, pulling you back to reality. “Now unless you got tea to add to this conversation, sir, I’m gonna need you to beat it. Me and your girlfriend have some important information to discuss. Auntie is three margaritas deep and just told me some very interesting things about her divorce.”

Boba’s fingers drift across the nape of your neck in a subtle reminder of delicious possession. He makes a show of sighing in exaggerated defeat and comes around your chair. Sticking out his hand, he nods. “Ari.”

“Fett.” They shake and Boba heads over to where your dad is flipping burgers on the grill. Somehow even his walk made you thrum with electricity.

When he’s out of earshot, Ari whispers behind their drink. “Finally. Now, she said that she was the one who instigated the divorce…”

It’s not until you head inside to pee that you remember your promise to Boba.

<boba 🖤🧸🧋: Clock’s ticking, princess. Panties. Now.> Received 6 minutes ago

Shit. You groan and throw your head back on your shoulders. Why is there always a line when you want to use the bathroom? Especially when you need to get your panties off before your boyfriend reaches up your dress and rips them off for you?

When the door finally opens, you rush in. Clicking the lock, you immediately yank off your underwear, taking the briefest moment to admire them. Pink, cute, and soaked in the middle, you feel deliciously dirty holding up the scrap of fabric in the mirror to snap a pic.

<All yours 😘> 1 image attached

The urge to run and take another picture in his truck is extremely tempting, but a knock on the door has you rushing to finish up.

Boba’s waiting for you when you step outside, looking handsome as sin as he leans against the deck railing. As casually as you can with a naked cunt and a pair of panties balled in your fist, you slip next to him and press them into his large hand. Maker, the sight of him stuffing the illicit garment into his pocket should absolutely not be as fucking hot as it is.

Seeing the scrunched look on your face, he chuffs a quiet laugh. “I can smell how wet you are, babygirl. Something’s got you all worked up, huh?” His tone is molasses, thick with self-satisfaction. “Brats do always love it when the consequences of their actions catch up to them.”

In an attempt to diffuse his pride, you pout and cross your arms over your chest. “I thought you said I was your good girl.”

He flashes you that jaw-dropping smile of his. “The two aren’t mutually exclusive.”

Before you can get any more hot and bothered, you see your mother approaching with a gangly young man in tow. You curse under your breath; you’d forgotten about Kevin-from-Jimenez-Lanscaping.

Boba snorts. “Speaking of consequences…”

Suddenly you’re very aware that you’re going to have to make polite small talk with your mother and a stranger with your panties stuffed in your secret-boyfriend-who-makes-you-scream-with-pleasure’s pocket.

You’re also aware that it turns you on an embarrassing amount. Fortunately (or not), you don’t have much time to contemplate the extent of that particular depravity before Kevin and your mom stop in front of you.

“There you are!” she exclaims happily. “Kevin, this is my daughter I’ve been telling you all about.” The young man smiles and shakes your hand politely and your mom turns to the older man. “And this is Boba Fett, our neighbor and family friend.” She drops her voice conspiratorially. “Now he’s very protective of her, so be careful. Even worse than her father.”

Boba bares his teeth in a sharp-toothed smile, gripping the younger man’s offered hand harder than necessary for the brief shake. The act of possessiveness has your blood boiling even hotter as the poor boy’s eyes widen in surprise. After a couple minutes of tedious conversation that’s mainly Boba glaring over your shoulder, Kevin excuses himself, thanking your mother for inviting him and apologizing for having to leave so soon.

Watching him dart for his car, she levels a scolding tone at your boyfriend. “How is my daughter supposed to find someone when you stare murder at every single person I bring over?”

Unrepentant, he shrugs and smiles. Your shared secret dances on his lips. “I just want what’s best for her. Surely you can’t blame me for that.” Seeing your mother still unconvinced, he throws an arm around her shoulders and plants a kiss on her cheek.

He sneaks a wink at you and you make a show of rolling your eyes even as your insides warm at his attention. Morally, you’re sure it’s wrong to enjoy this deception so thoroughly, but in this moment you don’t care; it lights some infernal fire inside you that burns hotter than any desire you’ve ever had.

“I hate to say it, but Boba’s right,” you play along. She still looks skeptical and he looks entirely too smug, so you elaborate. “I mean, what good is a guy that’s too chicken to even have a conversation with this grandpa?”

She bursts into a round of laughter that wipes away the previous exasperation from her face. “Oh, be nice to Boba,” she admonishes, lightly smacking your shoulder. “He’s no older than your father.”

A grin splits your face. “Gosh, you’re right, Mom! Boba’s only what, twice my age? I should really have more respect for my elders.” The words barely leave your mouth before Boba turns out his solo cup of ice water out over your head. Shocked with the sudden cold pouring down your face and neck, you instantly resort to tattling and finger pointing.

“No, ma’am, don’t come crying to me!” she manages through a peal of laughter. “You earned that one fair and square!”

Boba is positively dripping with his own self-satisfaction. “Sure did,” he brandishes a double-edged smile, paternally crossing his arms over his chest, “And I hope you learned your lesson, young lady.”

Your skin burns so hot you can feel the rivulets of water trickling down your neck heat up. Memories of your tits pushed up against the chilled hood of Boba’s truck flash across the backs of your eyes—you had complained you were cold after a skinny-dip in the lake and he wasted no time in warming you back up.

“Careful, princess,” he panted damply against your neck. “You scream any louder and you’ll have people come running. What would they think of a pretty young lady like you soaking an old man’s cock?”

It’s a miracle that you don’t immediately buckle when you catch his hand digging into his pocket to fist your panties. Keeping your eyes decidedly off him, you rush through an excuse to go up to your room to change. Before you can scurry off, however, he catches your elbow.

“Here, take this.” Boba pulls off his overshirt and wraps it around your shoulders. “Can’t have you catching a cold, now can we?” Your mom nods approvingly before she’s pulled away by another guest. Once she’s out of earshot, he drops his voice low. “Go inside and meet me in the garage. I’m going around front.”

Even as you repress an excited shiver, your heart warms in your chest at Boba’s caution. He never made you feel bad for wanting to keep things private and always structured your affairs so you were never seen going or leaving together. And although you look forward to the day you’ll be ready to hold his hand and steal kisses in front of the world, sneaking around in the meantime did add an extra layer of excitement to your sex.

Sandals slapping wet against the tiled floor, you race across the kitchen to yank open the door to the garage. Thick, sun-warmed air hits your face with a pleasant staleness, smelling of cardboard and motor oil. The quietness of the space clashes with the clamor of excitement pumping through your veins. Sweeping your eyes from one side to the other, a frown weighs on your lips when Boba is nowhere to be seen.

No sooner does the displeasure darken your expression than you’re scooped up into a pair of strong arms and whirled around.

Familiar lips and a suede voice swiftly gentle your startled yelp. “Quiet now, darling,” Boba purrs, practically preening with the pleasure of your surprise, “you don’t want to get us caught now do you?”

Your gleeful giggles of realization are smothered by his barrage of kisses, each one an intoxicating mix of passion and urgency. Boba hooks your legs around his waist, not caring about the water soaking into him as he walks you deeper into the garage.

The intense press of need pushing against your chest melts under his touch, releasing your lungs and draining to pool in your thrumming core. It’s been so long, too long, without him, your body surviving on the mere scraps memory could provide you—nothing in comparison to the sustenance of the man himself. Having him back in your arms, his marred skin beneath your fingertips, his thick torso filling the empty space between your legs… it unhooks the final thorns of discontent left from his absence.

A wave of relief washes away the tenseness of separation, leaving you pliable and radiant once more; the release has Boba’s lips parting in a gratified groan at the satisfaction of being your sanctuary. You take the greedy opportunity to lick your way into his mouth to savor the way his taste fills yours. Lost to the sensation of your tongue sliding along his, a hiss escapes your lips when the back of your thighs hit the freezer’s lid.

The chill dissipates quickly in the glow of Boba’s urgent heat. “Fuck I missed you, babygirl,” he pants against your pulse, “Even if you’ve been a karking terror all afternoon.”

“S’not my fault,” you slur, dragging your teeth across the tan skin of his throat, “missed you too much.” His salt seeps into the warmth of your mouth, spurring memories of late nights pressed together under a quivering lake water moon. Seeking that passionate warmth, your heels dig into Boba’s thighs to press him deeper into your eager desire.

Unyielding and unrushed as ever, he pulls back, refusing to let you usurp his control. Bereft, a whine flies from your throat and you keel towards him in a desperate arch.

Boba catches your cheek in his palm and sharply angles your face to his. Pure dominance radiates off him in the unwavering set of his shoulders and the gleam in his eye, their darkness glinting like two sable jewels in the dim light. His raw power, sanctified by his restraint and your willing submission, shimmers in the air between your bodies—the ephemeral calm before his storm’s consequences.

He knows that disquieting stillness of his never failed to draw your desire. Without a word, his free hand disappears into his pocket to free your panties.

“Mmm, is that the problem?” His strong fingers dig into your cheeks and he turns your head towards the dangling bit of bows and lace. You can feel how the visual evidence of your arousal affects him. He presses the damp fabric against his nose, sucking in a ragged breath. “Your needy little cunt making you act out?”

Your answer comes out more as a whoosh of air than a word, your insides twisting with the searing heat in his tone. “Noooo…”

“So you’re just a naughty brat then?”

You want to protest that you’re nothing but innocent but your throat is too tight with the thrill of his wrath. He balls the frilly underwear into his fist. “Shame. I was thinking about taking mercy on you for your good behavior while I was gone.” He cuts his eyes back to you, smirking. “Too bad brats don’t get that privilege.”

You jolt, panic locking your ankles at the small of his back in an attempt to keep him close. “No! No! That’s not what I meant!” you cry, your voice taunt with distress.

A dangerous chuckle sounds in his throat. You’d shown your desperation, giving him the easy advantage. “Better start explaining then, princess. Or else I’m just gonna come all over these pink panties and you’ll get nothing.”

You blink up at him with pitiful eyes and a swollen-lipped pout. “It’s because I missed you,” you simper, tracing a finger down his chest. “Seven days is a long time. Too long.”

Even through the haze of your shared arousal, Boba resists temptation. “Too long? Babygirl, we talked on the phone every night.”

He lets you press your face into the crook of his shoulder and your fingers begin to loop into the soft cotton of his shirt. “It’s not the same and you know it! There was no falling asleep with you, no lap to curl up in…”

“No thigh to get off on?”

You squeak when he pinches your ass, the subconscious roll of your hips halting.

“As cute and sincere as you may be, my darling girl, you still have a debt to settle for your behavior today.”

That’s fair, reasonable even. You had pushed him further than you yourself would have been able to stand. You slip your fingers under his shirt hem to graze your nails over the dark hair trailing into his jeans. “What if I gave you a little apology?” you offer with a fluttering of lashes. “Show you how sorry I am?”

Boba’s breath hitches but he turns up his chin like he’s uninclined to accept your offer. “You really think a handy is gonna cut it after everything this afternoon?”

The fevered dream from his absence flares white-hot in your mind. Grabbing his belt buckle, you haul your hips forward to press your slick folds against his bulge. “Not even if that apology is you fucking me into the mattress in my childhood bedroom?”

Boba curses, his hips bucking into yours.

“Not even if it’s you ruining me in the room where I learned to touch myself? Where I’d cry out into the pillow thinking about what it would feel like to have a real man fuck me instead of stupid, silly boys? Not even then?”

“Princess-”

“I’ve been fantasizing about it for a while, you know… what it would be like to bury my face in those cute flower sheets while you fuck my tight little cunt till I’m sore. Had to take a cold shower while you were gone just to keep my hands off myself.”

In a burst of strength, he forces you flat back against the freezer. “Enough,” he hisses through locked teeth. “For Maker’s sake, enough.”

Despite his protests, he’s rutting his twitching cock into the slick mess at your apex. You grin into his kiss—you’ve got him right where you want him.

“Awww, pleeeease?” you whine, sticking your bottom lip out. “Pretty please… Daddy?”

The sound that scrapes up from him is so utterly depraved that for a second, you think he might’ve come in his pants.

“Fuck, you’re… you’re…”

“A filthy little princess for a dirty old man?”

Boba pushes his hand over your mouth. “You… you have ten seconds to get in your room before I’m fucking you where you stand. And I don’t give a karking shit who sees. Do you understand me?”

“So, apology accepted?”

“One.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Two.”

“Okay, okay! I’m going!”

“Three.”

You’re flat out running for the kitchen door, wrenching it open without checking if someone is behind it. Luckily, your path is clear as you fly up the stairs up to your room. The lavender paint and neat rows of school awards are nothing but a pastel blur when you fling yourself onto the twin bed. Quickly positioning yourself, you hike your dress up around your hips so you’re completely on display.

At this point, you don’t even care about the danger; you drop your hand between your legs and delve two fingers between your wet folds. The friction burns delightfully after days without so much as a finger to your clit. The relief is so sweet you have to bite down on your neckline to halt the sounds of delight from spilling out. Imagining just how much better it’ll be when Boba gets his hands on you has you bucking under your fingers.

“Just can’t help yourself, can you, little brat?”

It’s no use snatching back your hand—he’s seen your transgression and is all too ready to add it to your growing list. Grabbing your wrist, he wrenches you up off the bed and whirls you around so your back digs into the door.

“Oh, babygirl,” he husks in a low, cruel voice. “You’re so fucked.”

He’s pressed so far into you the damp fabric of your dress burns, absorbing his overwhelming heat. Pure, wanton desire floods your brain, drowning any hope of sanity until all that remains is him.

Boba yanks down the ruffled sleeve covering your shoulder and sinks in his teeth, groaning when you buck against him. “But that’s what you like isn’t it? You like it when I put you in your place, when I treat you rough.” His large hand snakes up your chest to grab your throat.

“Yes-yes, Daddy!” you gasp, writhing with prickling pleasure when he greedily palms your breast.

He grunts, his hips thrusting into you. “You think calling me that will get you out of trouble?”

“I mean being in my old room… seems kinda fitting, doesn’t it-oh!”

Boba shoves his hand over your mouth. “Now don’t look at me like that, princess. I’m just helping you make better choices,” he grins, his smile sharp with intent. “That’s what daddies do, right?”

Fuck that should not make your clit throb like it does. Just when your knees start to tremble from the sweet friction he’s smoothing over your nipples, he tears himself away. Your cry of displeasure is choked off by a squeeze of his hand. With big, shining eyes, you blink pitifully up at him in a bid for more.

“Don’t bother with the kitten eyes, darling. It won’t save you… and neither will anything else you say.” He rubs his thumb gently over your pulse point, a jarring contrast to the pressure on your throat. “After your little attitude this afternoon, you’re going to have to earn the right to speak.”

Boba just tuts when you pout, a wicked flush of darkness shadowing his expression. “Brats don’t get what they want, especially not such disrespectful ones.” Licking his lips, his voice sinks even deeper. “Still think I can’t do shit with all these people around?”

When you don’t answer, he releases his grip on your neck to run his fingers up your skull and jerk your head back. Taking his time, he kisses you, devouring you until you’re fighting for air. “Little princess, I can do whatever I want to you no matter who’s around, do you understand that? Do you?”

Your answer is nothing more than a pitiful waver but he takes it all the same. “Good. Now take the dress off before I tear it off. I’m gonna fuck that pretty throat until I’m satisfied you’ve learned some respect.”

You’re out of the offending garment before he even has time to unfasten his belt. Despite the heat in your veins, goosebumps blossom across your skin, heightened by the moisture from your dress. When Boba sees you rubbing away the chill, he smirks and snaps you to his chest. “Looks like you need some warming up…”

Sliding his hands over your ass, he hikes you up into his arms with a puff, chuckling at your small sound of surprise. When he lowers you gently onto your bed, you wriggle into the position you know he wants: laid out on your back with your head hanging off the edge, ready for atonement.

It feels almost like relief. This was the reason you tested Boba’s patience with your antics and attitude; you crave the way he gives you no choice but to comply, the thrill of a fantastical danger shaping you into something vulnerable and eager to please.

The fire in his eyes dampens some as he caresses a hand over your cheek. You lean into his palm, nuzzling into the soft gesture. “Look at me, babygirl,” he prompts gently. When your eyes drift up to his, a smile warms his face. “I know you like it rough and I’m going to give it to you, but I need you to promise to mind your body, okay? Let me feel your three taps to stop.”

As you’d practiced many times, you reach up and slap your palm against his thick thigh. His white smile gets even bigger and he bends to plant a quick kiss on your forehead. You glow with his affection. “Boba?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Can you grab a towel for me to lay on? I’m going to soak a spot on the sheets if you keep talking like that.”

A devil’s grin stretches across his bronze features. “Stay right there and don’t move,” he instructs, his voice already husked smoke, “or I will make you only watch while I jack off with those panties.”

If he’d waited a second before darting to the adjoining bathroom, he would’ve seen the way your slicked entrance clenched at his threat.

For a fleeting moment you consider sneaking a hand to your peaked nipples, but the threat of him making you watch and not touch is far too distressing to test. Before you can get too tempted otherwise, Boba strides back into the bedroom with a towel in hand. Without a word spoken between you, he bends and you hook your arms around his neck so he can lift you and lay the towel down.

Boba hums in appreciation when you stretch back out before him, biting back your longing under his gaze. He lets his belt loose and his pants slide down his thighs, finally revealing the gorgeous image of his thick cock. Flushed rosy with want and beautifully slicked with desire, it bobs against his belly full and ready for your touch.

He steps back so you’re forced to crane your neck to see him. The baneful fire has returned to his dark eyes. He pumps his length once and your mouth waters in anticipation. “Hope you don’t think I’m going easy on you just because you finally decided to behave.”

You shake your head.

“No talking and no hands, understood?”

Now you shake your up and down. You know far better of him than to disobey.

“Good. Now we don’t have much time before someone comes looking for you, little princess, so open up that mouth and make Daddy proud.”

Thank the Maker for that towel.

Tilting your head back to make your throat one smooth channel, you stick out your tongue wide and ready. Just seeing the way his expression darkens with desire at your obedience has fresh slick wetting your thighs. Hell, your obedience turns you on. Not just any man could make you want to give yourself over to him and you’re sure there are next to none who could possibly deserve it.

Boba steps forward, cupping your cheek in his rough palm and dragging the slippery head of his length over your lips, coating them in his arousal. You stay still, enjoying his taste and gentle attention; he would tell you when he wanted more.

When he rocks forward to let your tongue slide down the vein that runs the underside of his cock, you claw your fingers into the floral sheets beneath you. Your heart pounds against your ribs and your lungs bellow more air into your chest. He’s so close yet so far from where you want him. Spit begins to dribble from the corners of your mouth and your jaw twinges from its wide angle, heightening your need for him even more.

Boba continues his leisurely pace across your tongue, rumbling a few low, pleasured sounds. He notices your frustration—he always notices everything—and chooses to ignore it. It’s a lenient punishment in light of your behavior but it doesn’t make the waiting any easier or your cunt any less desperate.

The whine that escapes from you when he lets his head graze your front teeth is so small it’s almost silent, but he hears it all the same. “Mmm, is there a problem, darling? Something the matter?” The slow drag of him doesn’t stop.

You flick your tongue over his frenulum in a wordless response. Although you can’t see him, you know his pretty brown eyes flutter shut at the sensation.

“Aaah hah hah,” he chuckles through a groan, “is this not enough for my princess? Is getting her tongue used while she’s naked on her pretty pink bed not enough for her?”

Again, since he hasn’t given you permission to speak yet, you stretch your head up to capture the head of his cock between your coated lips, lightly suckling his sensitive tip. When he doesn’t stop you, you let your tongue snake up to lick the pearled drop from his slit.

A faint tremor runs through him, making his length thrum in your mouth. Boba curses and stoops to lay a hand on your throat. No pressure or grip to it, just his hand resting over the exposed column of your neck.

“Swallow.”

His simple command races through you like a spark up a gunpowder trail, igniting the tinder of aching pleasure between your thighs. Reflexively your body snaps to follow his order, your jaw closing and your muscles pushing him deeper into the wet heat of your mouth.

“Fffff- that’s it, babygirl. Juuuust like that… let me feel how good you take me.”

The jagged sound of his enjoyment shoots bright seams of glittering ecstasy into your veins. Conscious of the lack of permission to touch him, you dig your heels into the mattress to push further up his shaft, sucking in a final deep breath before letting his girth slide down your waiting throat.

The next seconds dissolve into a filmy timelessness where every single one of your senses are his—your every sensation and fiber belonging to Boba. Your breath, your sense of smell and taste, sense of direction, everything is all in his control, all his to direct and decide. Even as the need for air burns through your ribs, you feel impossibly free, weightless and perfect within his care.

Retreating into that protected soft space of submission, your mind goes blissfully blank, your sole happiness being Boba’s grunts of pleasure as he pumps his cock down your throat. Sweat slicks your skin and hungry breath claws at your lungs but they’re none of your concern, all you have to worry about is keeping your jaw open. Though it had taken some time to learn to get there, now you rejoice in finding this quiet place within his storm, relishing the way you fall out of time and into his world. Even with the strain and weight of him pressing down onto you, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

After some wonderful, unknown period of time, air hisses through Boba’s teeth as he retracts from your warmth. Still blinded by submission, you gasp in big bubbles of air, blinking against the tears of exertion pricking your eyes.

You feel the muted thump of him dropping to his knees near your head. His thumbs are brushing away the salty trails as he cradles your head like a fragile flower against the wind, a smile blooming radiant on your damp face. “Baby… my darling girl,” he pants through seeded kisses, “you did so good for me, took it all… can you believe it? Almost couldn’t stop myself from coming down that perfect throat.”

You’re still hazy, drifting through the fog of your accomplishment, but you manage to pull apart your wet lashes to see his beaming smile. Its luminance turns up your own lips. “I… I did?”

Before now, you’d never managed to get the last thick inch of his cock down your throat—though not for the lack of trying. As oxygen flushes through your system, your head clears. “See,” you croak, buoyed by your success, “doing it in my old bedroom was a good idea.”

Genuine mirth crinkle up his eyes. “You haven’t seen anything yet, princess.” Boba turns and scoops you into arms, pressing you close to take in your scent. “I still gotta make you scream into the sheets, remember?” he murmurs against your temple.

You happily slide against him, relishing the way he fits perfectly against you. “Pretty sure I said ‘screamed into my pillow.’”

He snorts, caressing his hand along your jaw. “How about I make you do both?”

Taking your wild giggle as confirmation, he flips you onto your back to hover over you. You bite your bottom lip against your laughter as he trails tickling kisses down your neck and over your sternum, your breath hitching when he latches onto a pert nipple.

“Tell me…” he rasps through his mouth’s divine suction, “tell me how you would touch yourself.”

The great, crested wave of fire that crashes through ignites your limbs, making you jerk like a puppet on tangled strings. You never felt ashamed with Boba, he has always been your safety, your refuge; he’d wiped more tears than you’d let anyone else ever see and you’d twisted fantasies into his ear that would make the devil blush. But telling him how you rutted into your hand, sweating and barely keeping in your breathy sounds as you tried desperately to understand why boys your age never turned you on suddenly felt absurdly embarrassing.

He must have felt you stiffen under him because he prompts you again.

“I, um… I mean…” Why was this so embarrassing? It’s not like he didn’t know you were into the more seasoned male age range. Sucking in a steadying breath, you realize he’s stopped his ministrations to observe you with a keen eye.

It only makes your unforeseen shame bruise darker. You force a chuckle from your gut. “Sheesh, you know how to get a girl to blush, don’t you?” Your words are too high and paper thin—your façade not remotely convincing, not even to yourself.

Boba’s eyes flick over your strained expression, his lips pressing into a thin line before he bows his head to place a small kiss on your stomach. “We can talk about this now, or we can talk about it later,” is all he says. It’s all he has to.

You blow out a weighted breath. His way of making you confront life while still giving you a degree of choice could be as infuriating as it was liberating. If you talk about it now you likely won’t have time for the down and dirty you’ve been craving all week (and, at this point, might shrivel up and die without), but the thought of soldiering on in this cold shadow of shame is utterly unappealing.

Maker, you’re a buzzkill.

Boba slaps a smack against your hip and you yip at the sharp sensation. “No apologizing,” he warns. “Just answer the question, princess. Don’t worry about anything else.” His palm opens to rub away the lingering sting.

Feeling your anxiety swarm like wasps, you try to sink back into your warm mental refuge where things were easier. Try as you might, however, your brain refuses to release itself from its nervous confines to slip into that softer shape.

It had been so terribly confusing back then. Watching your friends swoon over boys in your grade or just above, you tried to see what they saw in them: the supposedly hot guys on the basketball team with their burgeoning height or the apparently dreamy, mysterious poet laureate of your high school. You never understood what they saw in these lanky, acne covered boys or why they would cry so profusely over them. A real partner wouldn’t make you cry, you’d thought, he would take care of you, show you the love you were told you deserve.

But oh how you had wanted to understand, to have a believable answer when the subject of crushes came up at the lunch table or someone’s sleepover. Everyone else did.

You only made the mistake of saying the school’s head coach was hot once—the grossed out looks and “old enough to be our dad” comments made sure of that. Eventually you settled on the safe choice of the football team captain for your obligatory answer whenever the subject came up. Even though it wasn’t true, the pressure was off then.

When you went to college, things didn’t change, no matter how much you hoped they would. You thought maybe it was just the boys at your school you weren’t attracted to, that maybe you were normal after all.

Tears lodge in your throat at the memory of the guys you’d fucked trying to fix what was surely broken inside you, the nights you spent wishing it wasn’t the kind eyes and visible signs of life experience that drew you to the men you desired. Trying to pursue the older guys at bars and social events never ended well for you either; their kindness always dried up when you didn’t want to go back to their place immediately, followed by cutting comments about “daddy issues” and all the mean things that came with them.

Finding Boba, finding acceptance had been a taste of heaven. A golden slice of peace, the vindication that you weren’t some freak or wrong to want a partner who cherished and cared for you. Your stomach drops at the thought of that pure, devoted love. He gave you all of that, asking for nothing in return but your happiness, and you can’t even bring yourself to claim your relationship in public.

Shame curls in on you like leaden weights. He deserves so much better than you. Someone who isn’t afraid to tell the world they love him and proudly walks at his side—not some scared girl who can’t even bring herself to face her own parents. The wound you thought had long healed rips open inside you, spilling its tainted blood into your heart and a scalding brine down your cheeks.

Before the first sob can sound from your chest, you’re pressed tightly into Boba’s front, held fast by thick, warm arms that stall your rising grief. A watery stream of words tumble out of you all at once. “Back then, it was-I thought-and I couldn’t, I mean I tried-”

“Shhh, baby, just breathe. It’s okay, everything’s alright… yeah, just like that, princess, that’s my good girl.”

His gentle touch and storm soothed voice has your sobs ebbing under his care. “I-is there something wrong with me?” you whisper in a fragile voice.

Boba presses his mouth to your temple, pulling you somehow even tighter into his warmth. “Babygirl, why on earth would you think there’s something wrong with you?”

Because I’ve only ever wanted an older man who babies me even though I’m a grownass woman.

Because I think you fucking me in my childhood bedroom while I call you Daddy is the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.

Because I’ll never love anyone else the way I love you but I’m still too scared to tell people about us.

You’re vaguely aware of being pulled under covers and tucked in tight to his side. Despite the furnace warmth of him and the blanket, you can’t seem to stop shivering against some inner cold. Piece by patient piece, Boba pulls out your discontent, wiping away new tears and kissing the old ones from your lashes. Somewhere in the back of your mind you register the darkening sky outside your window but he assures you Ari’s got your absence covered.

Tracing his roughened fingertips up and down your spine, he tilts up your chin to kiss your forehead. “Darling girl, why did you never say anything? That’s all too heavy to have to deal with by yourself. Especially when I’m here to help.”

Why did you? You’d shared so much of your other burdens—your disillusion after losing your dream job, your struggle coping with your life not following your set mental timeline—why had you kept all this to yourself?

“I don’t know…” you whisper, letting your pointer finger trace along the collarbone of his newly revealed chest. “I guess I felt like… like even though what I like isn’t normal, that being with you would make those bad feelings go away… and you make me so happy I thought maybe they would disappear if I never looked for them.” Hearing these half-baked assumptions out loud makes you hide your face in his shoulder. You feel like an idiot. No, worse. An idiot who’s wasted all her sneak-away time crying instead of getting railed by her boyfriend.

Boba makes a sympathetic sound, squeezing you closer to him. “I want you to listen to me, princess. Really listen. Number one, no keeping things from me that hurt you or make you upset. If you need to cry the whole thing out or scream about it until you’re hoarse, that’s fine as long as you tell me. Understood?”

You make a noise of agreement and borrow deeper into his hold. He allows you his comfort for a few more moments before gently unfurling you to run his thumb across your cheek.

“Number two. There’s no such thing as normal. Not a fucking thing. You like what you like just like everyone else likes what they like. Being attracted to handsome men like myself is not anything different than having a preference for blondes or brunettes, yeah?” He kisses you on the tip of your nose and you can’t help but smile up at him. “Besides, you wouldn’t find anything wrong with me being attracted to special princesses who have dirty little mouths and dirtier minds, would you?”

Heat rises to your cheeks. “As long as I’m the special princess,” you mumble into his palm, suddenly self-conscious under his attention even as you revel in it. Maker, how do you still want him to pound you into the mattress after an emotional breakdown? All his patient love seems to only make you hornier now that your tears have been shed and your fears have been voiced.

“Always.” Boba chuckles and chucks up your chin for a kiss. When you slip your tongue into his mouth and wrap your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss, he pulls back just far enough to murmur, “Still needy, darling?”

How could you not be? Your need for him feels different now, though. Not so much more or less intense but an entirely different kind altogether, like a fire that burns just as hot but with a different fuel than its predecessor. Treading carefully around this new flame, you hold a tentative hand out to test its heat. “We don’t… if the mood isn’t right, we don’t have to… and we’ve been gone for too long already-”

Boba drags his hot mouth over your jaw, positioning you beneath him. “Then a couple more minutes isn’t going to change that, now is it, babygirl?”

You frown even as your hips seek his. “But the whole ‘sexy fantasy’ thing is kinda ruined.”

Taking your hand in his large one, he draws it down his chest and over his stomach until you feel the hardness of his arousal filling your palm. “Does it feel ruined to you?”

Rock hard and fire hot, he leaks into your fingers. Your stomach clenches. Not too distant memories burn bright and vivid behind your eyes: recollections of impossible fullness, banished thoughts, and the generous stretch to accommodate him.

“Tell me,” he commands, knowing his firm tone always had you melting like silvery mercury in his palm. “Does it feel like I don’t want to be buried in your sweet cunt? Ruining your ‘innocence’ all over again like you want me to so badly?”

His roughness, the obvious tint of desire in licking up his neck and cheeks all have their intended effect: you succumbing to your desires within the paradise of his control. “N-no, it feels like-fuck-it feels like I want you inside me,” you pant, desperate and breathy. You arch up in offering and he bows his head to enjoy the fruits of your desire.

Sliding a hand down your waist, his fingers trail torturously close to your wet heat only to skim over it with the barest of touch. “How did you imagine it back then?” The crackling weight in his voice sinks through your skin to light in your core. “Soft and sweet? Gentle nothings whispered in your ear as you came apart?”

Without warning, he slaps at the wet flesh between your thighs and covers it with his broad hand, claiming it for himself. Perfect nettles of pain flash across your mind and you jerk against his hold. “Or did you want something a little rougher? Want a man who knew how to treat this pussy like it was all his?”

You can’t help it now. The fire he coached is burning you from the inside out, blossoming from you with slips of petaled flame. “A-all yours,” you manage thickly, twisting against him for more. “Wanted to be taken care of, wanted to be fucked without having to think…”

“Yeah, I know, baby, they didn’t know how to touch you, did they?” Two of his thick fingers push past your lower lips to slide through the slick seam there. Trailing over your slit for a languorous second, the pad of his middle finger circles your swollen hood. “They didn’t know how to rub that cute little clit so you screamed, huh?”

“Not at all,” you sob, your voice quivering as you shake from the electric sensation of his fingers. “Never knew, never knew-”

Boba smothers the rest of your pathetic sounds in a kiss that pushes deep into your pillows. “Awww, my poor princess,” he croons. “So achy and needy with no one to help. No wonder you were all over me that first time, whining and riding my dick like you would die without it.”

Never mind that he had been equally out of his mind, pounding into you that night like a man possessed with adoration.

He notches a finger at your fluttering opening, ringing it around your flushed entrance just to see you squirm to get him deeper. “Remember how you begged me to fuck you, princess? How you didn’t even want to wait for me to stretch out your tight cunt?” Sinking in an effortless finger, he dips to lap up the beads of sweat from the hollow of your throat.

By the time he’s pressing in the blunt head of his cock, you’re face down and ass up, shimmying your hips back onto his length through a babble of pleas. “Please, Boba, please I want it deep, so fuckin’ deep I cry.”

Huffing out a breath that curls over the dampness of your spine, Boba grips the back of your neck to snap that first delicious thrust into you. Your broken sob is muffled by the rucked bedding, matching the slap of skin in a salacious accompaniment. Never one to do things in half measures, he digs a hand into your hip, anchoring your body to drive into you harder. He hits that divine spot that you didn’t even know existed before him.

The air whooshes from both your lungs in a blurred haze of ecstasy. “Shit, baby,” Boba squeezes your nape, “I’ll always give it to you… always, darling girl. Anything you want, I’m always yours, forever.”

You know it with every breath in your body and hair on your head—Boba loves you with every fiber of his being and he never hid that fact from you. From the way he looks after your safety to the care he takes just to see you flash a simple smile, you never had to wonder if he loved you the way you love him, not even for a second.

The realization happens suddenly then, tipping your axes so you could center on the one truth that had orbited just out of your consciousness: Boba is worth the risk. He always has been. No matter what you might lose or gain by sharing your relationship, he would always be worth the risk.

You swirl with dazzling vibrancy, this epiphany developing in full splendor within you. “Yes-yes-yes!” you repeat mindlessly, flinging an arm back to search for his tethering touch. His hand disappears from your hip to intertwine with yours. Face crushed into the rose covered sheets of your old bed, breath tearing into your lungs as soon as it’s knocked out again, you smile. It had all led to this: all those years wondering if you were somehow broken, all those loves lost trying to fix what didn’t need repair, that one New Year’s night when you stopped denying what you truly wanted—all of it, everything, had been worth the risk.

Boba pulls on your hand, forcing you to arc farther back so that last sweet, solid inch of him is finally able to press into you. “Ffffffff-that’s it, that’s fuckin’ it,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “You’re better than heaven, babygirl, you know that? Sweeter than anything I’ve ever had.”

You want to tell him the same but your head is filled with hot, sparkling clouds of stardust and your throat is tight with cresting pleasure. “Yes, Daddy, yes!”

“Shit, you calling me… say it again. Say it again and don’t fucking stop.”

You’re chanting now, watching how the room around you shrinks to a pinpoint as you draw higher and higher with him. The prick of light and the chorus of your glass-thin cries shake with impending explosion when he drags his blunt nails down your back, swelling over your hip to find your throbbing center. “Is it as good as you imagined?” he husks, his own voice leaden with delicious strain. “Getting fucked into the mattress you dreamed on?”

Each snap of his hips sends your clit skating over his calloused fingertips. “Better, so much better!” Crushing your eyes closed, you surrender to the scorching wave waiting to take you. “Please, Daddy! Please fill me up so everyone knows I’m yours!”

Boba jerks forward, breaking the pattern of his thrusts to fold over your back. His sweat dampened skin melds to yours and fuses you into one splendid being. His hand travels from your shoulder to clasp around your throat. “You really want that, darling girl? You really want everyone to know you belong to me?”

Your answer doesn’t waver, solidified by your new-found conviction. “As long as they know you’re mine, too.”

Muscles rippling to lock at your affirmation, Boba’s head drops to your shoulder. The groan that heaves from his chest rattles through your bones like a welcome spirit charged with animating the last gasps of your union. “C-come for me then,” he chuffs in your ear with his last dregs of restraint. “Come for me so they know what you fucking do to me.”

Would he ever truly know how easy, how intrinsic to your being coming apart for him is? How your world had only ever been ordered by his particular equation, even before your eyes first met? Unraveling to be respun with his thread is your very nature, and you would always yearn to be in his weave, stitched and re-stitched by his expert hand. His fingers press tight against the glowing center of pleasure at your core and you burst into a glorious, unbound tapestry of light. Undulant patterns of pleasure flow through your every inch, anointing your entire body in golden thread from the crown of your head down to each individual toe.

Feeling the hot claim he spills inside you is the final beautiful detail in your joint creation. These final fleeting moments where it feels like your very souls mesh together are always your favorite; Boba’s guard comes down and you rise to catch him, your usual roles reversing as he burrows into your warmth. “Always, baby. Always yours,” he promises, his voice thick and sweet as honey.

Echoing his sentiment in utter bliss, you tighten your grip on his hand, joy taking flight when he does the same. Content and at peace, the pair of you roll so you’re pressed flush together, still joined in the middle when your limbs re-tangle. Boba pushes your hair back from where it had stuck your forehead and plants a kiss in your hair.

You’re happy to smooth your palms over the scarred bronze of his chest to rest them lazily around his neck, his heartbeat jumping under your touch. How could you not realize this, that he, is worth more to you than any fallout from revealing your relationship? Was this not what you shed all those tears for, what you wished for every single time you tried to fit into another man’s mold?

A resplendent joy feathers out in your chest, floating down your arms, then your legs with soft announcement. “Boba?”

His finger traces up your spine. “Yes, my princess?” His voice is dense as goose down and packed with comfort.

You swirl your own shape into his skin. “I meant it, you know. I want… I want everyone to know we’re together. I don’t want it to be a secret anymore.”

He goes silent, his only sound the movement of air in and out of his lungs. Even as you know he always takes time to consider his next move, your pulse still ticks up with a spate of nerves. The lines on your spine continue and you do your best to temper your unease as the long moments inch by.

Eventually, a rumble reverberates in his chest. Your ears prick up.

“You don’t have to do that, babygirl, not before you’re ready. Just because it slipped out in the heat of the moment doesn’t mean it has to be set in stone.” Boba shifts to wrap his arms around your waist, holding you impossibly closer. “I know there are more risks for you than me in our relationship.”

You hate the far off note of despair in his voice. You hate the way he sounds like he’s resigned himself to a truth that isn’t at all what it has to be. “No,” you sit up on your elbow to cup his cheek, “there’s not. Not in any way that matters to me. You’re-”

“Princess, it’s okay, I-”

You silence him with a kiss, suddenly feeling like you have to get the next words out of your body before they explode. “You’re worth the risk, Boba. You always will be. Every single day since I met you, you have done nothing but prove that to me.” Your pace picks up as your truth spreads its wings. “I was afraid before, not of being with you but of what others would think about my preferences. I didn’t want them to judge me and think I was only with you because I have “daddy issues” or whatever, not because I love you more than I thought people could. And I know my parents will be shocked but all they want is what’s best for me, and you’re what’s best for me. I know this now—and I’m not ashamed of it.”

As quickly as you started, you run out of steam. No longer inflated with the sense of frantic urgency you had before, you sag back down onto his chest. A quiet second flicks by, then Boba’s grabbing you, hauling you up into his arms to kiss you like a man desperate to live. He says nothing, his lips working against yours in fervent passion but you can feel the sentiment he doesn’t speak. Each pass of his tongue and nip of his teeth communicate more than any words could: his joy in your self-realization, the excitement of proclaiming your love to the world at long last. Your only wish is that you could have given him this sooner.

When he finally lets you break for air, his handsome face is lit up with a smile more radiant than any sun. Whispering your name with a reverence of only the truly devoted, he brushes his nose over yours. “Babygirl, I… I’m so proud of you. You never cease to amaze me.” He sweeps his lips over yours again. “I love you. Always have, always will.”

Besides his love, Boba’s greatest gift is his forthrightness. You never have to guess with him and now, no one else will have to either. They’ll know where his loyalties lay.

“That’s a good thing,” you tease into a quick kiss. “Because all my aunties, and uncle Stephen, are going to be very jealous that you’re off the market.”

Boba chuckles in that bone-deep way that always makes you warm all over. “I didn’t realize I was in such high demand.”

You push yourself up on his chest. “Oh, don’t lie to me, Boba Fett. I’ve seen the way you flirt and wink at them. They eat it up and you know it!”

Sitting up with you, he grins. “Just being polite, princess. You’re not jealous, are you?”

Maker, how could you ever be jealous of anyone after the sex you’d just had?

“Oh, not at all. Because at the end of the night, you’re coming home with me.” You smirk up at him. “Speaking of which, we better get back out there before those same aunties start tearing the house up looking for you.”

“Only if you promise not to clean up and put these panties back on for me, darling girl,” he counters with a devilish smirk of his own.

Giggling, you bite your lip. “Anything for you, Daddy.”

He’s worth the risk.

#i made my own slutty self blush with this one 🙈#zwei writes #boba fett #boba fett x reader #boba fett x f!reader #boba fett x fem!reader #boba fett x you #boba fett fanfic #boba fett smut #boba fett fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #dad's friend!boba #fanfic #worth the risk fic

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silviakundera · 18 hours

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The Double ep 15-16 reaction

I'm glad they added another flashback of her brother and included his escort friend from the novel. Minor character and a small tragedy but it humanizes him for me. He was just a sincerely nice guy who wasn't kind to her as an aim to possess her, but because he was a good person. And so she never forgot him. She thinks he forgot her - only to learn he never cut ties with her; he was killed. Little tragedies, small people that royalty step on like ants.

To me it feels important that as much as the drama gives her husband depth and makes us sympathize with his situation, it shouldn't allow us to forget that her family was destroyed. We didn't see it happen, like the shovel to her head, but her father was his teacher. Xue Zhao was his brother in law. Their names may no longer matter to anyone else, but our protagonist will not allow them to go unavenged. [lil note from the novel I liked - novel!Duke Su being perplexed and unable to figure out how FL is getting this successful escort to assist her, when even he seems to respect how impossible it is to get a handle on the woman - because she has a secure position as a popular escort & enough money & is satisfied being exactly where she is (doesn't want to fight for favor as someone's treasured concubine), independant and unable to be threatened or bribed. so what could possibly move her?]

(Now this is sorta thematically tying in with the backstory drama created for ML with this bandit. ML's general dad was a good person and so he wasn't forgotten by this person whose life he touched, so presumably he'll do ML a favor. FL and ML have turned into schemers and are willing to get their hands dirty; but are aided in their quest by the fact that their dead family had a positive impact on some people who still remember it?? Be interesting to see if this does become a minor theme 🤔)

ANYWAY let's get to the good stuff: Last episode ML started realizing he's catching feelings. This episode FL feels jealousy and isn't shy about it ('can't I?'). We're making real shippy progress here!

He very much still enjoys watching her strut and perform. But the distance between them is slowly closing. That whole drinking game scene was pure gold.

"Are you not upset now? "Huh?" THE LOOKS THEY EXCHANGE AT THIS.

He's entered the play, joining her on stage instead of coldly manipulating from a high vantage point. Her walls are down for a moment and he's not even hiding his bias. Blatant flirting and she has him smiling. Yes, he has 2 agendas here but unlike the last failed 'date' they were playing together, not her in the role of pawn. I love a smart ML. Boy is not gonna fumble this chance to have his schemes AND a woman who's perfect for him.

I found this subplot of FL foiling the Li clan's plans for Ye clan her most clever manuveuring in the translated novel (up to ch 113). Though it's being compressed for time & tweaked, still satisfying to see her outflank the corrupt local government. As well, very glad to see the ML point out that she has a double-motive... to intentionally make the Jiang and Li irreconcilable. (They're not her real family, they're her enemies!) Nooooooo don't have multiple layers to your plans, it's too sexyyyyyy

#cdrama #the double #the double spoilers #silvia watches

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yan-shann · 24 hours

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EARTHSPARK SEASON 2 SPOILER'S

So, this is just my opinion, based on the 9 (10) episodes that have been released.

English is not my native language, please, be nice <3

Nightshade was not developed. Ok, I'll just deal with it and move on, they're one of my fav char's list, but they still cute and genius so im fine with it.

Hashtag has gained more development. I really enjoyed watching her, there wasn't much of her in the first season. More than satisfied. I really liked her new altmod, it’s beautiful, stylish, the Hashtag are great

Cosmos was shown only for a couple of minutes and forgotten, very disappointing. Where did he even go? Maybe I missed something, I don’t deny it. Let's just move on.

We got more Skywarp and Novastorm. And by more I just mean more, there was no revelation or experience at all, there was just more. Okay, that's fine with me, okay. Im just happy with fact they are here at all lmao

The Twitch and Spitfire arc is GREAT. I mean, she's GORGEOUS. I really liked it, especially the fact that Twitch beat Skywarp, lol. Okay, jokes aside, Twitch really grew up in this arc, I really liked her more, she's grown-up a little, my lil girl

The twist with the fact that titan was expected under the city, I liked it too. The titan herself is very beautiful and wise, I will wait for her in future episodes, it’s too early to say anything more clear, but at the moment I’m in admiration

Now let's get to the part I don't really like. Another thing's was quite acceptable, but that was somewhat disappointing

DESEPTICON RELATIONSHIPS.

I don't want to say that there were no interactions among the Decepticons, but I didn't get enough of them. I don't have enough Starscream, Soundwave, Novastorm, Breakdown, I DID NOT ENOUGH ANYONE AT ALL. I fkng needed an episode before the betrayal where they showed us the relationship between the Decepticons, Autobots and Terrans. But they showed us four or something dmn pictures and retold it, not even a two-minute flashback, I’m completely disappointed!!1!

I mean, we weren't even given a FLASHBACK. This is kind of crazy. Just like what Starscream's arc fell into.

I know he never said he would be good. I still like him, I understand his actions, but IT SEEMED TO ME THAT AFTER SEVERAL YEARS (?) IN PRISON, he finally rethought something. I didn’t expect the level of Armada, no, that’s foolish i think, but I expected that they would show more of his motives, more of why he does this, because now I have the impression that he has not changed at all and has rolled back to the state before the first season, like WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS BRO. No, of course, this could be connected to Emberstone, but Starscream didn’t seem to touch it, at least they didn’t show it or i missed something.

(I know Starscream loves Cybertron and everything of it, but it’s been showed on IDW, they don't tell something about it in earthspark. Starscream here just wanna home for him and Decepticons, but for some reasons he doesn't even try to hear Shockwave's opinion about going back to Cybertron and I wanna MORE information about it)

At first it seemed to me that the Decepticons have quite a good relationship, and Starscream is a good leader, but now I think that the others will simply kill him or just kick out as soon as they find him, after what Starscream did. (although I think there is a chance that they will understand and accept him, given Shockwave's words that "Starscream couldn't handle the weapon and lost his mind" or something like that)

BTW Earthspark is still a cool series and I'm looking forward to the continuation. I really love it. Everything written here is written on emotions after the first viewing, do not take it close to heart.

#transformers #Starscream #starscream #earthspark #tf earthspark #earthspark season 2 #earthspark spoilers #transformers earthspark #season 2 #shockwave #Nightshade #OMG #WHY IS STARSCREAM EVIL AGAIN #Transformers armada #armada #Tfa #I CAN'T OMG #im so excited

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owlwithanapple · 2 days

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The Bat with love❤️‍🔥👄

Content : Kissing/Romance/Before in love…

Characters : Bruce Wayne x Y/N

The Chapter of Bruce Wayne reveal his face in front of Y/N.

You were so satisfied with the book signing and sales of your new work. Even Bruce Wayne himself came to scene and take photos with you. Today, you in a particularly good mood. You took out a bottle of good wine celebrate for yourself. You took a glass and poured some wine into it. Turned on the music to make the room full of life. Took the glass and poured the wine into your mouth, drinking it over and over again until you drunk. The feeling of being tipsy after drinking is really fascinating. You fell on the bed and stared at the ceiling in a daze.

You are already drunk and unable to extricate yourself and mind is blurred. With blurry eyes, you see the figure of someone standing by the bed. You vaguely see the person is Batman, the hero of Gotham City. What's going on today? So many surprises. You drunkenly pointed at him and said a bunch of messy words like a silly girl, "Batman~ Good things happened today~ I'm so fucking proud~ That Bruce Wayne is actually my fan~"

"Then?" His voice was so low and quiet.

"And then that was all~ Haha~ I just wanted talk to you~" You couldn't drink much because easy get drunk just a few drinks. The feeling of being tipsy and the heat rising in your body so fucking wonderful. When you wanted to continue talking nonsense, your sweet lips were touched by a surprise kiss. The surprise kiss was a gift from Batman. You held his face looked at him affectionately from a close distance. He didn't avoid your sight and touch, and a ripple of smile appeared on your face.

"Bad boy~ What do you mean by kissing me~" You are so drunk can't take back the silly smile on face. Your fingers stroke his face to his sexy lips. A warm passion hits you and gently rub his lips. The quiet room allows you to hear heartbeat and breathing. You don't understand why he wants to kiss you, but you just want to put your lips on his charming lips again.

He kissed the fingers on his lips again as if to seduce you. How drunk are you? How can the feeling on your body be so real? Until now, you still can't believe the scene in front of you. Are you expecting something from him? He moves closer to you and you move your fingers away from his lips. What a real, beautiful, false and pure feeling. The drunken feeling ignites the hot passion and lust in your heart, which has overflowed in your heart.

You looked at him in a daze. His face was covered so couldn't see, but he had sexy lips. You flirted and asked, "What would you do if I kissed you?"

"You can try it." He said indifferently.

You pull his face closer and pecked his lips. You pulled back and laughed like it was a joke. When you thought it was over, he kissed you agai without hesitation. You closed your eyes make yourself enjoy the kiss he brought more. You hugged his neck to make your kiss sweeter and more intimate. The charm of his male hormones attracted you, his tall and strong figure really fascinated you.

After he left your lips, you stared at him and smiled, "Your lips are so sweet."

"Hmph." He just hummed and nothing more.

You couldn't resist the temptation he brought. Every cell in body was dominated by him. A few simple kisses enough to make your heart beat. How long have you not felt this way? The drunken feeling plus his mysterious temptation made you extremely excited and fascinated. You never experienced such a mysterious and romantic experience, and never longed for a man so much. Even not love, at least can bring you a collision of intense pleasure.

"Batman~ Do you like me~ Hahaha~" You hugged his neck and talked nonsense like a spoiled child.

Without saying a word, he picked you up with his strong hands. He took out the grapple gun aimed at the distant direction shot it taking you away with him. You closed your eyes and buried your head in his chest. The two of you landed in a high place. He saw you leaning on his chest and breathing quietly. He stroked your soft and cute face, you opened your confused eyes and looked at him with a little touch.

You held his face asked hazily, "Bat bat batman～Where are you taking me?"

"A quiet place." His eyes were still looking at you.

You lean on him with peace of mind, and he holds you in arms. At this moment, the two of you have nothing to say just leaning on each other. You feel completely safe because of his uniqueness. He wears a mask but smiles at the corners of his mouth. The night wind in Gotham City is cool and pleasant, his cloak covers you to prevent from catching a cold. He is serious but graceful. Fortunately, you have the courage to stay by his side now because of drunkenness.

You run your fingers from his mask down to his lips and then touch it, hinting to him that you want a kiss from him "Hey~ Batman~ Are you sweet?~"

He grabbed your wrist didn't let your hand leave his lips. He kissed your fingers then your wrist until your arm went up bit by bit. He was exploring your body step by step, finally stopped when got close to your face. You felt his breath on your face. When you thought he was going to kiss you again, he stopped and a smile appeared on his lips. "You are so beautiful and charming when you are drunk."

His sweet love words made you irresistible. You smiled foolishly for a while and took the initiative to get closer to him. You were almost kissing him. "I am always charming~ You just don't see it~"

"Hmph." He just sighed and looked away.

You put your hand on his face again turn him to look at you. You don't want to wait quietly like this. You want his embrace and warmth. You two have kissed each other's lips countless times. The atmosphere has been lingering in ambiguity. You two don't say much love words just enjoy the pleasure brought by the intimate contact at the moment. The unclear relationship is puzzling and fascinating. You two accept this ambiguous relationship and give up a love that truly belongs to you.

"Batman~Are you my admirer~" With the courage brought by the wine, you pursue the love in his heart more boldly.

After saying this, his attitude changed, his eyes stayed on your lips more firmly. Although you were in a state of sensory confusion, you could feel the hand holding you tightened. The hand on his face slowly moved to the back of his neck and hugged him. You swallowed the saliva in your mouth looked at him. You selfishly wanted to get more from him, whether it was love or friendship, people were so greedy that they wanted to have everything with a little hope.

"Yes. I am. It's you who fascinated me so much until I can't fall asleep." Don't know if it's true or not, just know this sentence touched your heart. You didn't care about so much, you took the initiative to leave a deep mark on his lips. He responded to your emotional appeal with a deep kiss, his sweet and sexy kiss was simply beautiful. But the good times didn't last long, the drunken feeling made you feel sleepy and couldn't stand it. You indulged in his passionate embrace and kiss until you fell asleep.

After he left your lips, he left a sweet kiss on your forehead before caressing your face "Wait for me, I will definitely hold you in my arms. Have a good dream, my love."

Around ten o'clock in the morning -

You woke up from a beautiful dream full of love, and the sunlight outside seemed so warm in the room. You stroked your head found you were not feeling the discomfort after drinking. Got out of bed and saw a silver-black Batarang stuck on the table. It was one of Batman's weapons. You covered your face in shock. You doubted whether the beautiful dream yesterday was true. You picked up the weapon stuck on the table and it was real.

Suddenly phone rang, you answered the call in panic and nervously. The voice of your assistant came from inside, "Ms. Y/N, you are already an hour and a half late, when you come to work?"

You looked at the clock on the wall. The dream was so damn good that you slept late. "Fuck, I'll be there in a minute."

"Hurry up, someone waiting in studio for you more than an hour."

"Who the hell?!" She hung up before you could even ask.

Various strange and unexpected phenomena happened one after another. You thought about the Batarang in your hand for a long time couldn't figure it out. You no choice but to wait for Batman to appear for a clear explanation. You hurriedly took off clothes ran into the bathroom to wash body before going out. Damn, you are late. Now have to go to the studio quickly. Don’t know which unknown person waiting for you for more than an hour. You passed by a coffee shop on the way and bought something as apology.

After a while, you finally arrived at the door of the studio. You noticed a dark black car outside the studio but didn’t pay much attention to it. You were holding a bag with three cups of hot coffee in your hand. You stood outside the door take a breath and calm down before opening the door. As soon as you stepped in, your assistant rushed towards you, and you were so scared that almost couldn’t hold the things in hand.

"You're finally here! I thought you were dead!" Your assistant nags at you.

You hand her the coffee, "Okay, okay, this is for you, shut up. I'll take care of the rest, in my office?"

She takes a sip of coffee to calm down and nods like crazy, you a little nervous who that person is. After your assistant leaves, you stand front door of the office, hands are shaking but still turn the doorknob and walk in. You see a man sitting on a chair with his back to you, he has a tall and strong body, a closer look reveals the watch on his hand is a super expensive model. You walk to the desk put the coffee down, then walk to him and apologize to him, when you see his face, it was Bruce Wayne.

"Mr. Wayne? Why are you here?" You a little nervous.

He has a confident smile on face. "I came to see you. Can I take up your time to talk for a few minutes?"

You nodded immediately and handed him the coffee then sat down. "Of course. You can call me directly... Don't have to wait for me to waste precious time."

He took a sip of coffee and smiled at you. "I am happy to."

You are a little confused but smiled. "So what do you want to talk about?"

"I want to talk about you." He put down the coffee and clenched his hands.

You pointed at your face. "Me? What can I talk about?"

"I want know you. For example, what do you like to do, what flowers do you like, or... something else... I want to know more about you." He smiled proudly.

You exhaled, something didn't understand again. You straightened your back with a calm attitude. "Is this a work-related issue?"

He shook his head and smiled, "I didn't say about business."

You were even more confused. You crossed your hands under chest and leaned back in the chair, "I'm boring and not to your taste."

He took the coffee from your hand and put it to his mouth to drink. You stood up looked at him with a shocked and shy expression. He took a sip and licked his lips, which made you feel tempted. He pulled you to sit on his lap. You wanted to stand up but he held you tightly, with no intention of letting go. He returned your coffee to you, you held it carefully. Your face was very close to his, he felt very satisfied with your nervous and shy look, a smirk hung on his face to express his satisfaction.

He licked his lips and grinned, "Coffee is sweet."

You clearly ordered espresso, how can it be sweet? You take a sip and it tastes bitter. Wait, he drank your coffee before, now you drink it too, and you two are kissing indirectly. You understand his intention, he is trying to tease your heart in a sentimental way, "Mr. Wayne, you have a bad taste~ How can you taste sweet coffee?"

"Because it's yours." He said in a flirtatious tone.

"You haven't tasted my sweetness." You put the coffee aside, put one hand on his shoulder, and gently pulled his tie with the other hand.

He moved his hand on your waist a little bit, and moved other free hand to your chin pull you closer, "I've tried it, many times, addictive sweetness."

You grabbed his hand on your chin, every word he said was ambiguous and passionate. You asked curiously, "Have you tried it? When?"

"Several nights." He said.

You got close to his face and looked at the handsome and charming face. "I spent the night with you? Why don't I remember which night?"

"Is my Batarang on the table at your house?"

You covered your mouth with hands in shock, and forgot to blink your eyes. "You... fuck..."

His and Batman's figures kept appearing in mind, with no similarities but full of same charm. Everything in this world is always unpredictable and can't imagine it, including who this man in front of you is. You stood up and took a few steps back. It was really hard to believe they were the same person. Bruce Wayne, the person you admired very much in career. Batman, who stood up to protect you when you were in danger, were the same person.

As many nights when alone with Batman as there were times of love. The number of times you two kissed, how deep and how long the kissed, were deeply imprinted in your mind and unforgettable memories. You once told yourself it didn't matter just a vague comfort in the relationship, your heart had already been completely taken away by Batman.

You took a few steps back leaned against the table and fell into a blank, your heartbeat accelerated and lost the motivation to think. You recalled every memory had Bruce Wayne's figure, it was his lips kissing you, his hands holding you tightly, his calm personality made you like him, you couldn't look directly at him and chose to turn your back to him.

You heard the sound of chair moving, and stood behind you. He wrote his phone number on a piece of paper and put on the table, "I'll wait for you."

He left your office after leaving this sentence, his back was a little sad and lost. You held the paper tightly and thought about what to do in your mind. You no longer hesitated took the paper and chased after him. You saw his car was about to drive away, you rushed over block his car. He immediately stopped and got out quickly, you walked in front of him and returned the note to him. You said chokingly, "I want to see him, my room."

Late at night -

You curled up in the corner of the room, looking out the window never saw him appear. A trace of sleepiness came over you, and slowly closed your eyes. Perhaps you were too tired to think about too many things today. After a while, you felt someone touching your hair, you opened eyes see it was Batman in your room. But this time he took off his mask in front of you, and finally saw his true face, it was really Bruce Wayne. He gently stroked your face with his hand, as if waiting for your response.

"Hey, it's really you." You stare at him, enjoying being touched by him.

You see him approaching, you close your eyes and let him kiss your forehead. "It's me. I am Bruce Wayne, and I am also Batman."

"Why me?" You are calm and expectant.

"Love at first sight." His answer so clear and concise.

How many kisses have made you two more obsessed with each other, how many words can fill each other's hearts, you look at him with a smile "So? What do you want?"

"Do you want have a passionate love with me? Not as Bruce Wayne and Batman, but as my everything."

You pulled him over gave him a kiss on the lips, he held your face and responded with a deep kiss. You put your arms around his neck sat on his thighs, welcoming every kiss of his passionately and romantically. Even can't breathe, you want to keep kissing him, his sweet lips are so irresistible. He stroked his hand from your back down to your hips. You took the initiative put his hand on your thigh till reaching for your private parts.

Suddenly his communicator rang, and heard Nightwing's call for help. In desperation, he had to choose to rescue, you got out of bed, opened the window and stood aside. After he put on the mask, looked at you again, you laughing at his speechless expression, "It seems to taste the sweetness, you have to wait~"

He hugged you and said, "You haven't given me an answer yet."

You smiled with a naughty and cute look, "You already knew the answer."

"I want to hear it from you."

You put hands on his chest stood on your feet, leaving a sweet kiss and licking his lips, "Let's talk about it next time, Batman~"

He kissed your cheek and moved slowly until he licked your neck, making you moan shyly. This feeling was fucking addictive. He left kiss marks on you and kissed it deeply. The love between two of you gradually deepened, no longer expressed with a little kiss. It has entered a deeper realm, only the two of you deserve such a passionate feeling. "Remember to close the window." He left after leaving this sentence.

You stroked the kiss marks and saliva he left, many beautiful scenes emerged in your mind. You leaned on the window looked at his back as he left. How strong he was. You were intoxicated by the love and pleasure given by Batman, but combined with Bruce Wayne. He said the passionate love indeed worth looking forward to. But it seemed boring to accept his love directly. Or you had to play with him for a few rounds of romantic time. Recalling the beautiful moments, you felt extremely shy, both sides of cheeks felt hot.

—The End—

🖤Like and Reblog to motivate me🖤

AO3 Heroes In Love by owlwithanapple

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midnight-bay-if · 2 days

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How do the ros react to hearing someone brag about having sex with the mc and how they were in bed? Crushing and relationship 🫣

S (crushing stage): Their lip would curl into disgust before they smoothed out their features, preparing to look every bit the demure, unbothered person they pretend to be. "Well, it's certainly become obvious why you are NO longer sleeping with MC. Such a shame."

S (dating stage): They smile, confident in knowing that they are the one to share MC's bed now. Yet, they can't stop themselves from getting in a quick potshot. "Well, I'm grateful that MC's tastes have matured since you."

Rain (crushing stage): Rain would desperately try to ignore the individual. They're not going to listen to someone speak so crassly about someone they care about. It isn't worth getting angry about. They're not listening. They're NOT. NOT LISTENING. LALALALA.

Eventually, they would snap. "Hey! You shouldn't talk about someone like that when they aren't around to defend themselves!"

Rain (dating stage): At this stage, Rain isn't going to wait around to knock that kind of behaviour on the head. "Hey, dumbass!" Everyone turns in shock, including Taj and S. "All you're achieving here is everyone knowing that you didn't do enough to satisfy MC. Be quiet"

Taj (crushing stage): Seething in their chair, tapping their foot on the spot as they glare across the room at the individual. They don't even really understand why they're so mad. So what if MC had a past lover? Everyone has a past? Why should that bother them? ...It's probably because the person is a complete trash pile of a human. Most are. They just wish they would shut up.

Taj (dating stage): Expect World War 3. As soon as their mouth opens and MC's name slips from their tongue, Taj is plotting. S can see on their face Taj is about to do something drastic.

"Don't, Taj..."

Too late. Taj approaches the individual with their hood pulled tightly over their hood, looking every bit the thug they will pretend to be. Then, when they get close, they snake their hand against the back of their neck threateningly. "I suggest you stop talk talking. In fact, it's in your best interest to never mention MC's name again."

N (crushing stage): N clicks their tongue, watching the idiot go on and on about MC, and they find the display distasteful. How pathetic. They can only imagine what MC ever saw in this person. That's assuming the cretin is even telling the truth. Not that it's any of their business. MC can do whomever they please.

They will need to shut this human up, however. They are much too loud. "As riveting as this tall tale is, feel free to keep it in your fantasies. I have a headache."

N (dating stage): N will just listen, their smile slowly growing and growing as they tap their fingers against the surface they are leaning on. The more graphic the conversation gets, the wider N's smile gets. As soon as some of the details begin to line up with their own experience with MC, N's mind is made up. The human will be lucky to ever talk again.

Umbra (crushing stage): Umbra watches the individual like a quiet shadow, their face neutral, but to anyone who knows them, that's when they are at their most dangerous. Unless you were watching them carefully, you wouldn't have seen them leave. They lie in wait. As soon as the disgusting individual is alone, Umbra has them isolated and pressed against the wall, a knife to their throat. "Mention MC again, and it will be the last thing you do. I don't do second chances."

Umbra (dating stage): They're in agony. They're trying to do better for MC; be better for them. They've been meditating more, exploring breathing exercises... They can't let worthless lumps of meat like that human bring out that side of them anymore. The anger is there, though. It's bubbling with every word they speak.

It's just words. They mean nothing. MC can handle things like this. They said they could. Still... what remains in their imaginations can't hurt anybody.

#ask answer #taj #simon selby #nazu raumon #rain #naera raumon #umbra knight #simone selby #interactive fiction #choicescript

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owari-no-homo · 2 years

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Probably everyone who ships KimiYoi has seen this pic (it's on their wiki page):

But I was desperate for some context and ended up finding this promo vid: PS Vita「終わりのセラフ　運命の始まり」第2弾PV

Yoichi: Okay, smile!

Kimizuki: Stop, Yoichi, you don't have to take one of me!

They're so cute 🥺

#it's still not enough but i'm satisfied for now #i need to get this game one day #ughhhh their casual clothes and yoichi's smile and kimizuki's blush is just kjdsfhkdsfhjdksh #now i just need to find the context for that pic of yoichi blushing in a pink shirt...#kimiyoi #shiho kimizuki #yoichi saotome #owari no gay #owari no seraph #seraph of the end #ons #beginning of destiny game #ship

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seventeendeer · 2 years

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I'll admit that Chris Pratt as Mario was the one part of the trailer that didn't work for me, but everything else really did have quality to it. Jack Black had the perfect balance of threatening Bowser and campy Bowser, the animation was exactly what I'd hope a Mario movie would look like, and it's clear there's a lot of passion in the project, to the point where they even incorporated Mario creatures that aren't as well-known and mainstream. I don't think it deserves being entirely ragged on just thanks to one lackluster part.

I’m afraid I have to disagree! Chris Pratt Mario is easy to rag on because it’s exactly as awful as predicted and ties into an existing awful trend in current animated movies (also Chris Pratt sucks as a person), but I also think it's just ... the most obvious symptom of an issue strewn all throughout the trailer.

It lacks soul. Sure, the character models are up to the industry standard and the color work is very good and there’s nothing immediately artistically offensive about it, but it’s just so lackluster. The characters’ lines and body language are completely to-the-point, have no individuality or spunk, no flavor. There’s no word play, no slang (made up or real), no distinct speech patterns. All the characters’ lines sound like they came directly out of 11 other movies from the last decade. The body language accomplishes getting across some very basic emotions, but again, everyone moves the same, there’s no sauce on there, it’s just “character is scared,” “character is excited,” “character is surprised.” Bowser’s character acting while talking is also very awkward and janky (reminder that Hotel Transylvania, a similarly badly written but EXTREMELY well-animated CGI movie came out TEN YEARS AGO).

On the subject of Bowser, I also think Jack Black was a very poor choice for him. Yeah, he can do the voice rumble, but it has no depth, no reverberation. It’s generic.

It’s not just Chris Pratt Mario that sounds flat and lifeless, even though he is definitely the worst offender - everyone, from Toad to Luigi to the penguin guys at the beginning, all literally just sound like Some Guy.

Which becomes a problem when “tiny cute cartoon animal sounds like a grown human being” was supposed to be a joke at the beginning! The joke doesn’t land when every other character sounds like that and it’s not meant to be funny!

This being another problem. It’s not funny or has an interesting plot teased? They tried to crack some jokes, but they were regurgitating common cartoon gags that were done to death a decade ago. It was some Ice Age 4 style comedy. And with the generic plot threads introduced, the trailer really had nothing going for it except “please come look at our movie, it has some nice special effects!”

As for using lesser-known Mario characters ... I’m sorry to say, but that’s a really common marketing tactic for this era of big franchise movies. A really basic, generic plot front and center so newcomers to the franchise can keep up with the plot, with these little nuggets of “remember this obscure guy or thing?!” for longtime fans to point at and go “oh yes I remember that guy or thing!!” It isn’t evidence of passion, it’s evidence of the creators knowing how nerd fandom operates and taking advantage of people’s sincere affection for their favorite stories.

I love bad movies and I don’t fault anyone for being excited about the Mario movie, but it’s disheartening to see people hyping up these soulless cash grabs just because franchise movie creators have caught onto which levers to pull to make fans swallow their garbage without complaining too much.

It was the same thing with the Sonic movies. They have basically nothing to do with the Sonic franchise, even the main character is completely divorced from the thematic context he was born out of, but tons of people love it just because it’s superficially “heartwarming” and more or less manages to dodge some of the obvious problems of other family films in the same genre.

Again, I’m not saying no one’s allowed to like these movies. But how anyone can look at the Mario trailer or the Sonic movies and call them good adaptions ... is beyond me.

The Mario and Sonic games’ stories aren’t good because there’s a guy named Mario in overalls and a blue hedgehog named Sonic who save the day in each their silly little way, they’re good because of their unique themes and ideas. Mario’s story is appealing because it’s quirky, energized, full of weird places and weird people that are nothing like any big blockbuster movie. Sonic’s story is all about environmentalism and anti-capitalism! Sonic stands for a green future! These traits are the heart and soul of the franchises these movies are trying to adapt, it’s what makes them good, but mainstream movie producers don’t care about any of that. They just put the funny-looking guy on the screen, try not to piss off any parents or long-time fans too much, then wait for money to start rolling in.

Besides, Mario’s only two defining character traits are “Italian” and “plumber,” and I do think it says a lot that even getting those two things right was too much effort for Illumination. The sheer balls it takes to look at a massive franchise like Mario and decide to change 50% of the most recognizable traits of its main character are astounding. Maybe it would be stupid to trash the movie over a single miscast voice ... but when it’s the main character? When said miscasting takes away one of his two character traits? That’s not nitpicking, that’s identifying an underlying problem with the production process, that is, a lack of interest in the very franchise they’re trying to adapt.

Nintendo has more money than god. They should be able to get a hold of an animation studio that can do more than just make pretty special effects and look up obscure characters on a fan wiki.

I don’t want a Mario movie that’s more or less non-offensive, I want a Mario movie that’s good. I want a Mario movie that understands the property it’s adapting. We have got to stop patting big blockbuster movies on the back for doing the bare minimum.

#asktheherd #i feel so bad having to reply so negatively to one of my favorite long-time followers but I MUST SPEAK MY TRUTH ... MOVIE BAD #it's NOTHING PERSONAL coolcat001100 i hope i'm not ruining your fun #i just hate ... corporate movie .....#hate the way they sand down subjects just enough to appeal to both long-time fans and newcomers #put just enough money into bowser looking badass to satisfy the furries and then call it a day shaking my fckn head #im so mad lol this is so silly but i think the sonic movie broke me a long time ago and now i must live like this #i love sonic so much why did they do that to him and WHY are people still clapping because of it im so mad #mario movie #long post cw

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queenlucythevaliant · 1 year

Text

When Lucy returned to school for the spring term, Peter sent a war poem. It dropped from the crease of his letter into her lap, as unexpected as a firebomb.

“On Receiving News of War,” the title read, and Lucy’s heart lurched. She was sixteen and Peter was twenty-one. The war had ended three years ago and he had only been a British soldier for a matter of months before he was discharged. Now, this poem came: words from the Last Lot, the 1914 war. Lucy picked up the loose page and read.

ON RECEIVING NEWS OF THE WAR

Snow is a strange white word;

No ice or frost

Have asked of bud or bird

For Winter's cost.

Yet ice and frost and snow

From earth to sky

This Summer land doth know,

No man knows why.

She looked up in shock. What did Peter mean in sending this? Was it only that it made him think of their first days in Narnia, white and frozen under the White Witch’s curse? He could not have missed the title. Lucy worried her lip between her teeth, considering. Her brother did not often use words idly.

Red fangs have torn His face.

God's blood is shed.

He mourns from His lone place

His children dead.

O! ancient crimson curse!

Corrode, consume.

Give back this universe

Its pristine bloom.

Oh. Yes, alright. That made a certain kind of sense. And there, at the bottom of the page, was a single line writ in Peter’s hand. “Variations on a theme,” he had written, “only I’m not yet certain what theme it is. Do you have an idea?”

Several, in fact. Lucy’s mind lit up in an instant, all a-whirl with memory and typology. She wasn’t a child any longer, and in small bits her many battles came back to her. Peter, she was sure, remembered even more of Narnia’s wars.

Yet Lucy remembered the ice of Lantern Waste on the first day as though no time had passed at all. She remembered the crimson of Aslan’s blood. She remembered the thaw. In her mind, those things had nothing and everything to do with Britain’s last war. Nothing: the two worlds were as different as King Arthur and Winston Churchill. Everything: because maybe Arthur and Churchill were not so different after all.

That night, after a trip to the library and with a book of poetry on her desk, Lucy composed her reply. “Another variation,” she wrote, and carefully copied out the lines.

All the dead kings came to me

At Rosnaree, where I was dreaming,

A few stars glimmered through the morn,

And down the thorn the dews were streaming.

And every dead king had a story

Of ancient glory, sweetly told.

It was too early for the lark,

But the starry dark had tints of gold.

The poem was called “The Dead Kings.” Peter was not dead, but Lune was and Cor was. Caspian was. It was easy to imagine them appearing in the trenches and whispering their stories into the ears of British soldiers.

“Caspian would have liked the notion, I think,” Lucy said thoughtfully.

Peter leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Yes. Come to think of it, I rather like it myself. If I were the dead king, I mean.”

“It’s strange—I think these were meant to be sad poems, the way they were written. The world unwillingly cursed and the ancient kings dead. Yet when you apply it to Narnia, I don’t think it’s terribly sad at all. Maybe a little melancholy, but hopeful too. Like I know something that the poet doesn’t.”

“You do know something that the poet doesn’t,” answered Peter.

“I mean about war and dying and all. It’s all so distant for me, you know? And yet I often suspect that I know secrets that some men who actually fought couldn’t guess at. The hopeless men, maybe. In Narnia it was all more beautiful. Having lived there elevates even war and death, in this world.”

“We were, both of us, soldiers once.”

Lucy nodded.

“How about this one, then?” Peter shoved his book across the table, nearly upending the cream along the way.

The drab street stares to see them row on row

On the high tram-tops, singing like the lark.

Too careless-gay for courage, singing they go

Into the dark.

“Simple,” said Lucy. “Singing on the way to war is courage. Singing in the dark is just about the bravest thing a person can do. Just because these boys go into the battle without knowing what it’s really like doesn’t make them any less brave for going, or for singing.”

“You would know,” her brother smiled fondly.

With tin whistles, mouth-organs, any noise,

They pipe the way to glory and the grave;

Foolish and young, the gay and golden boys

Love cannot save...

“It makes me think of Susan,” Peter murmured.

“I can see that. Our love cannot save her, only Aslan’s.” Lucy frowned thoughtfully.

“No, no—I mean I wonder if that’s how Susan thinks of us: foolish children still playing games where singing in the dark means anything at all. Gay and golden, but naïve and careless by the same token. Too caught up in notions of courage and glory to realize that we live in a world where good people die.”

“Oh Peter, you don’t really think?”

“She told me once she’s afraid that we’ll never grow up, did you know? I wondered if she meant that we would always be like children, or if she worried we might die young. Sometimes I still wonder.”

“It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world,” said Lucy. “To always be child-like, or even to die young. Not by half.”

Peter snorted. “You might not mind dying young, but I’d certainly mind it. You’re my little sister, Lu. If you die young, it means I’ve done something wrong.”

“Well of course I’d mind! There are so many things I mean to do once I’m grown up. But I’ve always thought—ever since Father Christmas handed me that dagger—that I might. As long as I died for something, it wouldn’t bother me. I think I could be a rather good martyr.” She winked across the table.

“Don’t you dare. If Aslan has short lives in mind for either of us, we’ll drink what we’re given. In the meantime, let’s both of us focus on growing up well.”

The next week, Lucy went with Marjorie Preston to the mail room. It was Marjorie’s birthday and she was expecting a parcel from home, but Lucy was also privately hoping for another letter from Peter.

An abundance of riches awaited Marjorie: an enormous box that the two of them had to lift together. Thus, Lucy tucked Peter’s letter under one of the box’s flaps as they carried it, and it was Marjorie who tore open the envelope when they reached the dormitories.

“What in the world is this?” Marjorie exclaimed, waving a poem under Lucy’s nose. Lucy snatched it away and hungrily read the words, considering how this variation fit Peter’s theme. Then, she noticed that Marjorie was still beside her, tapping her foot impatiently.

“My brother sends me war poems,” Lucy explained hurriedly.

“That’s strange.”

“Do you think so?” Lucy considered. “Well, no matter.”

WAR GIRLS (here Peter had added “& VALIANT QUEENS”)

Strong, sensible, and fit,

They're out to show their grit,

And tackle jobs with energy and knack.

No longer caged and penned up,

They're going to keep their end up

Till the khaki soldier boys come marching back.

"Does he mean you?" asked Marjorie, wrinkling her nose.

Lucy laughed, but didn't dispute it. She went to fetch some paper and a pen.

On they went for the next several months, passing poems back and forth in their letters. Some of them were hopeful and some despairing, some sad, some darkly funny. It was a dialogue in a war that Peter scarcely remembered, and Lucy even less. In time, Tennyson and others from before the Last Lot worked their way in. Even Shakespeare made an appearance with several selections from the Henriad. Spring lurched into summer which tumbled into fall. Peter turned twenty-two in August and Lucy was seventeen in November.

Then, at dinner at Professor Digory’s house one night, the specter of a Narnian king appeared before them. Before they left, Peter found the poem he was thinking of in the Professor’s study and gave it to Lucy.

Horror of wounds and anger at the foe,

And loss of things desired; all these must pass.

We are the happy legion, for we know

Time's but a golden wind that shakes the grass.

“Does it feel different this time?” he asked once she had read it.

“Yes,” replied his sister, “and no. It feels obscurely like it did the night Aslan died. Like something is hanging over us.”

“I think this is the end,” Peter said bluntly. “He said we wouldn’t ever go back to Narnia, yet here we are. It feels like the end. Do you remember what it was like the night before a battle?”

“Yes. I didn’t before, but I do now. Like we had to gather up everything inside ourselves and name it. Fear and courage, love and memory.”

Peter sighed. “We ought to get going. There might be ice on the roads tonight.”

Lucy went into the closet and fetched her coat. Peter followed, moving a fraction slower than usual.

“Peter?” Peter turned and looked at Lucy, who was standing in the doorway with her fur-trimmed collar turned up around her throat. “It was a good poem, Peter. The right poem. Time’s but a golden wind that shakes the grass…”

Golden. Golden like Aslan’s mane, which they both so dearly longed to touch once more. Lucy tossed the poem round and round in her mind all that evening.

Before he and Edmund left for London, Lucy slipped an envelope into Peter’s pocket. “Read it on the train,” she told him.

Peter nodded. “I have one for you too.”

It was the last conversation they shared in the Shadowlands, though neither knew it at the time.

When Lucy unfolded her poem, she recognized the words. It was her favorite war-poem, which she’d first sent to Peter months ago when their correspondence had begun.

Sombre the night is:

And, though we have our lives, we know

What sinister threat lurks there.

But hark! Joy—joy—strange joy.

Lo! Heights of night ringing with unseen larks:

Music showering on our upturned listening faces.

It almost made her want to giggle, how well Peter knew her. Lucy thought of him and Edmund together in London; she ached for Susan, who had chosen not to join her siblings in their last battle for Narnia. She breathed in deep and thought of music on the way to war.

Death could drop from the dark

As easily as song—

But song only dropped,

Like a blind man's dreams on the sand

By dangerous tides;

Like a girl's gold hair, for she dreams no ruin lies there,

Or her songs where a lion hides.

That last couplet was wrong. Peter had changed it. The poem ended with, A girl’s dark hair and kisses where a serpent hides, but Peter had written gold and lion instead.

When Peter unfolded his own poem on the train, he found only a single stanza, annotated on nearly every line.

It didn’t pass— (His will be done) it didn’t pass- (His will be done)

It didn’t pass from me.

I drank it when we met the gas (His will be done)

Beyond Gethsemane! (His will be done)

The train halted and the whistle blew. Peter shook Edmund awake beside him, and together they went to unbury the rings.

Poems referenced: “On Receiving News of the War,” Isaac Rosenberg; “The Dead Kings,” Francis Ledwidge; “Joining the Colours,” Katharine Tynan; “War Girls,” Jessie Pope; “Absolution,” Siegfried Sassoon; “Returning, We Hear Larks,” Isaac Rosenberg; “Gethsemane,” Rudyard Kipling

#i really am very interested in the ways that Narnia relates to both ww2 and ww1 #but i almost never like the way other people address the subject #(sorry)#so here's my attempt #i'm not 100% satisfied with it but i think it's good enough for now #the beauty of using a cut is that i can still revise if i decide i want to #also this is part of my informal 'Narnia lit analysis series'#because that's just the kind of gal i am #narnia #dear darling heart-daughter of aslan #high king over all the rest #chapter one #martyr club relevant #leah stories #pontifications and creations #intertextuality

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