#.anyway this is why in my fic I am giving him the fun combination of sex repulsed and hypersexual due to trauma.
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Julian Bashir walks a very fine, maddening line between âself-loathing imposter syndrome who knows almost everyone who speaks to him for more than a minute finds him insufferableâ and âincredibly self assured and annoyingly arrogant to the point of a minor god complexâ.
He knows heâs attractive, he thinks heâs charming as all hell, he knows heâs the smartest person in the room (while also being acutely aware heâs going to put his foot in his mouth any second now), and he just swings wildly between âI donât deserve anything I have, none of this is mine, my life is not my own, I am a monsterâ and âHELL YEAH LOOK HOW COOL AND SMART I AM GUYS ARE YOU LOOKING ARE YOU LOOKINGâ.
And then thereâs episodes that reveal that underneath that annoying arrogance, at the very core of who he is, he really, really just wants to help people, and if he fucks that up he WILL take it personally and hold himself responsible even if thereâs no way he could have known and like. Can you imagine what his first patient death was like for him. Can you imagine what a fucking nightmare his brain must be 24/7.
He is somehow as inherently self assured as he is in need of constant validation for his ego because you can SEE him break a little when that ego fails him, even a little, and itâs just.
Heâs very fun to write. I hate him. (I love him so much, but oh my god.)
#stella talks#star trek#star trek ds9#julian Bashir#.he knows how attractive he is. literally cannot conceive that Jadzia might NOT want to fuck him.#.he knows how smart he is and is an absolute idiot about it.#.and like itâs so hard to work out is he super self assured because he knows heâs engineered and even though he hates it he still KNOWS.#.like he KNOWS he is objectively going to be smarter and more athletic and etc bc he was MADE to be that way.#.which then plays into how he has that fun dichotomy of self loathing tied up in his arrogance.#.manages to see himself as both gods gift to the world and a pathetic monster at the same time.#.anyway this is why in my fic I am giving him the fun combination of sex repulsed and hypersexual due to trauma.#.because Bashir is a man of completely polar opposites conflicting personality traits and I want to be faithful.
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Daylight
Summary: Despite your best efforts, Sunday morning doesnât go as plannedâŠand you couldnât be happier about it.
Pairings: Loki x Female Reader
Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, shower sex, fingering, vaginal sex, soft sex, sex that causes you to be several hours late for work, Loki being a (respectful) horn dog.
Series: Overtime (I don't have a masterlist for this yet, but the first fic is here). A/N: This started out as a scene in Overtime that kind of took on a life of its own. You don't necessarily need to read Overtime in order to enjoy or understand this fic, but you'll have more context if you do. Anyway, it was fun revisiting these two idiots--I've got a few more ideas for them up my sleeve, so there will be more in this series at some point.
The sunlight wakes you the next morning.
Itâs the same sunlight as always, but it looks different coming through Lokiâs window and streaming across his bed. It looks better, you think, splashed across his sheets.
Or maybe itâs the addition of your hand clasped with his resting on those same sheets. Or perhaps itâs the sight of your clothes and his, discarded on the bedroom floor in a pool of sunlight, combined with the fact that youâre still wrapped in his arms. Maybe all of that is why it seems better.
That seems more likely.
You lie still for a moment, simply enjoying the feeling of his arms and the heat of his skin against your bare back. You are reasonably certain heâs asleep from the steady rhythm of his breath on your neck, but youâre not about to disturb the sleepy calm of the morning to confirm that.Â
The clock on his bedside table says itâs just after six. Before last night, you would have said that this was a reasonable time to get upâearly enough to ensure that youâre in the office by eight, which would hopefully give you enough time to meet this eveningâs deadline, but not so early that it makes you question your life and your choices.
But that was before. NowâŠwell. You suddenly find that your priorities look very different from the comfort of Lokiâs bed.
You decide that you didnât really see the clock. Neither one of you thought to set an alarm last night. Sleeping in was inevitable. Thatâs not your fault. No harm, no foul.
You close your eyes and allow yourself to fall into a light doze, warmed by the sunlight and Lokiâs embrace.
Sometime later, youâre woken by the soft brush of a kiss against your neck.
âDid you sleep well?â he murmurs against your neck.
âYes, though I did have a bit of a late night,â you say. âSomeone kept me up.â
âReally? That was rude of him.â
âVery.â
Heâs noticeablyâachinglyâhard. His lips brush against your neck again. âPerhaps he might make it up to you?â
Your intention is to open your eyes, roll over, and allow yourself to be ravished. But in a development you can only describe as tragic, you happen to catch sight of the clock on his nightstand.
7:38 am.
âShit,â you say. âItâs almost eight.â
Loki is predictably unconcerned about this. âWe donât have any official hours to keep,â he says, his hand skimming along your ribs and down the curve of your waist. âWe have all day.â
âYeah, but weâve got a ton more to do,â you say, trying to ignore how good he is at kissing your neck or how his hand is drifting down your hip toward the aching pulse between your legs. âWe really need every minute.â
âThat is true,â he says solemnly. âPerhaps we ought shower together to save time.â
You canât help but smile. âI kind of feel like you have another agenda.â
âIâd never,â he says.
âThe raging hard on pressing against my ass would suggest otherwise.â
You can almost hear him smirk as he gives his hips a teasing little thrust against you. âI contain multitudes.â
You wiggle out of his embrace and slip out of bed. You intend to look back and give him a coquettish look and say something sharp and teasing, but instead, the sight of him takes your breath away. He leans back on his elbows, looking everything like the sort of lounging god you would see depicted in marble at the Parthenon, all chiseled, sharp muscles and clean lines. His cock stands fully erect and deliciously thick, flushed with wanting.
âI canât help but notice that you didnât reject the offer,â he says, seemingly fully aware of the path of your gaze. His hand drops to his cock and he strokes himself casually, which very nearly sends your sprinting back to bed.
âYouâre right,â you say, trying to keep your cool as you throw him your most beguiling look. âSo you should probably hurry up.â
You turn and start walking toward the master bathroom. You donât need to look over your shoulder to know heâs following you, his gaze hungrily devouring every inch of skin, eyes dark with purpose.
You walk into the master bathroom and are immediately confronted by several flagrant violations of the residential handbook. The TVA is many things, but it is not the sort of place that deviates from set floor plans, nor is it the sort of place that deviates from those plans to install a rainfall shower and soaking tubâin marble, no less.
You think of the stark, vaguely institutional aesthetic in your own master bath and you canât decide if youâre annoyed at his rule breaking or jealous that he could get away with it.
âIâm not even going to ask if you got approval for this setup because I know you didnât,â you say as you reach in to the shower to turn on the tap.
âDo you think of anything other than that cursed personnel manual?â he asks as he comes up behind you, his arms snaking around your waist and his lips again finding your neck as he draws you to him.
âFirst of all, itâs not the personnel manual, itâs the residential handbook, which you specifically agreed to abide by when you signed off on your lease.â
He turns you around so you face him and draws you close, a wicked gleam in his eye, âOh, Iâm going to make you forget all about those ridiculous rules.â
âThatâs a pretty tall orderâoh.â
His hand is slipping between your legs, stroking your already slick folds.
âI think Iâm quite capable of inspiring other passions,â he says, rolling his fingers in a broad circle over the hood of your clit
You loop your arms around his shoulders. You can already feel your knees starting to tremble, but you know he wonât let you fall.
âBold claim,â you say, âIâm going to need more evidence.â
âOh, youâre going to get a lot of evidence,â he says softly. He curls a finger inside of you, pressing his thumb against the hood of your clit. âYou will have no doubts by the time Iâm done presenting my argument. You will be weak-kneed with evidence.â
You shudder as he rocks his hand slowly. Heâs touching you enough to stoke the flames of desire, making your hips rock helplessly toward his hand as you try to create that extra friction and pressure that you know will send you flying over the edge. But Loki is meticulousâperhaps even ruthlessâabout not giving in.Â
âNot yet,â he murmurs softly when your latest attempt is thwarted. âSlowly.â
Your pleas become louder and more frequent, but his answer remains the same: slowly. You whimper and beg, but he is resolute.
Steam has fogged up the mirrors and is curling around you when your orgasm finally begins to crest. You suddenly find yourself grateful for his pacing as the intensity builds to a level that makes your knees shake.
âThatâs it,â he breathes as you tremble in his arms. âYou can come for me now, lovely.â
Like magic, the coil inside you snaps at his command and you cry out as your cunt shudders around his slowly thrusting fingers. Your arms looped around his shoulders are the only thing keeping you standing.
âBeautiful,â he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss against your temple as you sag against him. âBeautiful.â
He gives you a moment to get your bearings before leading you into the shower. He sits down on the marble bench, spreading his thighs wide and pulling you into his lap so you straddle his hips. The spray of the water hits your back as he kisses you again, slow and hungry.
You love everything about this. The heat of the water on your back. The closeness. The way his thighs are spread wide. How his cock presses against your bare cunt. The noise he makes low in his throat when you start rubbing yourself against him.
âNeed you,â he mumbles against your neck. His hands squeeze your hips and you reach between the two of you to line his cock up at your entrance.
It occurs to you that you could take the opportunity to tease him, to make him beg for you, but pretending that you have any control over your aching need for him is several degrees beyond impossible. So instead, you slowly ease yourself down onto his cock while he groans against your neck, dragging his lips down to the curve of your shoulder.
The feeling of him inside you is still so new that it feels just a little unreal. After all that wanting and yearning and thinking that he was too handsome, too divine, too out of reach to have, heâs suddenly yours and itâs absolutely dizzying.Â
You pause for a moment, eyes closed, savoring the feeling of unyielding fullness, of connection. Of him.
âAll right?â he asks softly.
You open your eyes and his look of sweet concern makes your heart swell. âYeah,â you say, a lazy, satisfied smile tugging at your lips. âI justâI needed a moment. You feelââ You pause for a moment, searching for the right words, sifting through the effusive and flowery and the things that are true but too early to say. âYou just feel really good,â you say.
It sounds wildly inadequate, but he seems to understand, to hear all of the unsaid parts that youâre keeping close to your heart. He could turn away, say itâs too much too soon, that you havenât even said what you are yet, much less committed to anything serious, but he doesnât. Instead, he leans forward, drawing you into a slow kiss, his hands framing your face, tracing the curve of your cheek and jaw with the kind of reverence that makes you want to say everything you feel.
âYouâre perfect.â He says it in between breaths, with such a disarming sincerity that you canât bring yourself to try and deflect, to name a flaw or even make a joke.
Later, he will tell you that he was struggling with a similar battle, trying to reconcile how new this was with the depth of feeling that was already blossoming in his chest. He will tell you later that he couldnât believe you were his, just as you couldnât believe he was yours, that there was something about you that felt right in a way that made him feel like he knew even then.
But right now, he simply kisses you with a fervor that makes your toes curl and your hips start to move.
Itâs only the second time that youâve done this, but thereâs a strange blend of both the new and the familiar. The shape and feel of his body pressed against yours is new, but the way that he moves, the way that he touches you is as though heâs loved you for centuries.
The rhythm you fall into is slow, despite the excuse that this shower was to save time. His hand slides down your stomach, his fingers finding your clit to add another layer of bliss to the feeling of his cock inside you. Despite your slow pace, your ascent rushes in fast and brilliant as a comet blazing through the night sky. Your back arches, almost as though youâre presenting yourself as an offering to him as you come undone in his arms. Loki watches you with a kind of breathless wonder, brow furrowing in pleasure, his lower lip caught between his teeth at the tight clench of your cunt around his cock.
Your legs are rubbery with pleasure, but you keep going because you need his release as much as your own. You need to feel him empty himself inside of you, to hear the low groan he makes as he unravels, to see the way his eyes flutter shut. You want crescent moon marks on your hips from where his hands gripped you too tightly in that final ascent, physical proof that you can make not just a god forget himself, but Loki specifically. Loki with all his masks and tricks and artful poise; Loki laid bare below you, free from all artifice and glibness, raw and real and just as he is. All the parts of him that make you think that down this path lies something wonderful (not that youâre ready to call it love. Yet).
But Loki is nothing if not predictably unpredictable and he seems determined to make you work before granting you that little glimpse at the heaven that is the god of mischief coming undone beneath you.
âLet me feel you come again,â he murmurs as soon as you catch your breath.
âIs once not enough?â you say, trying and failing to sound cool and calm, like youâre not completely wrecked for him.
âHardly.â His eyes flash in a way that makes you shiver as he urges your hips into a faster rhythm. âI am not so easily satisfied when my need has been so great.â
You can feel the coil in your hips beginning to tighten again.
âIâve burned for you for years, my love,â he says, his voice going a little shaky. âWould you deny water to a man dying of thirst?â
You shake your head, your words lost to the oncoming wave of your undoing.
âThen do not deny me your pleasure, I am desperate for you.â Heâs panting, barely holding on to his composure. âNow come for me again, let me feel you.â
You are so far gone that it only takes a few more strokes to make you come undone and the first shudder of your climax takes Loki with you.
You savor his pleasure more than your own release, memorizing the sound he makes, the way his lips form a silent plea in the shape of your name until he slides a hand up your neck and pulls you down to kiss him.
His kiss is fierce and hungry at first, but it ebbs to something slower and sweeter as he empties himself into you. He sighs as you tangle your fingers in the wet tendrils of his hair.
Itâs a long moment later when you finally break the kiss, resting your forehead against his.
âI donât think we saved any time,â you say.
He doesnât even open his eyes. âI cannot overemphasize how much I do not care about being late in these circumstances.â
You grin. âNot even a little?â
He kisses you sweetly on the mouth before opening his eyes, his lips curling into a slow and satisfied smile. âI would be late every day for the rest of my life for just a few seconds of that.â
His words spark something warm in your chest and you try to hide it with a wry look. âIâm not sure that youâre getting the better end of the deal.â
He kisses you softly. âYou donât know how good you feel.â
âYouâre one to talk,â you murmur against his lips and he smiles as he deepens the kiss.
The warmth of his body pressed against yours and the feeling of him smiling as he kisses you is a kind of luxury youâve never imagined. It takes you a while to untangle yourselves, but you canât find it in yourself to move any faster.
The actual showering part of your shower is slow and unhurried and you find that Lokiâs hands are equally gifted at these mundane tasks. His fingers have a knack for finding every stubborn knot in your neck and shoulders, which he explores leisurely under the pretext of washing your back. The press of his fingers unwinds the tension in your shoulders, loosening up muscles that have been too tense for too long.
âYou are way too good at this,â you say.
âJust one of my many talents,â he says, dropping a kiss on your shoulder. âThough perhaps I ought to stopâI wouldnât want to make you late.â
âIâm so relaxed Iâm going to ignore that little bit of sass.â
He chuckles against your shoulder. âYouâll forgive me.â
âWeâll see.â
The sweet, almost chaste kisses heâs been pressing against your neck and shoulders are gradually growing slower, more insistent. When you feel the tip of his tongue draw a quick, teasing line on your neck, you know that you might be in trouble.
His hands slide to your waist, drawing you close enough that you can feel that heâs hard again.Â
âIâm sensing some ulterior motives,â you say.
âA bold accusation,â he mumbles against your neck, pressing himself more firmly against you.
âWe canât have sex again,â you laugh.
âMmm, we could,â he says in between kisses. âThereâs nothing stopping us from having sex again.â
âWe are already running lateââ
âI thought I was very clear about my feelings on timeliness in these circumstances.â He nips at your earlobe and you shiver. âAnd would you really deprive me of the utter bliss of coming undone inside you?â
âItâs more like rescheduling than depriving you of anything.â
âIâve waited so long, darling.â
âWe just had sex likeâŠless than an hour ago,â you say through a laugh.
âAh, but the days before that were so terribly long,â he says.
You turn to face him, thinking this will make things easier for you. This turns out to be a grave miscalculation because now you have to contend with the fire in his eyes and the twin flame that it summons low in your hips.
Fuck.Â
You are definitely going to have sex again.
His eyes glitter like he knows and he slowly walks you backwards until youâre pressed between him and the shower wall.
âYou are absolutely incorrigible,â you say as he peppers your neck with slow, decadent kisses. âI canât believe you talked me into this.â
âFunnily enough, I donât think youâll be complaining about my mouth in about thirty seconds.â
And with a wicked and hungry grin, he slowly sinks to his knees.
Itâs 10:48am when you finally walk into the office.
Even though you are now several hours later than you intended and the stack of files is no less imposing, you feel nothing but a pleasant glow of happiness as you take your seat. Loki sits down in the chair next to you and this time, he sneaks his foot underneath your desk and hooks his ankle under yours.
He catches your eye and smiles. âI can be a little more obvious now.â
You put on your most exaggerated expression of mock seriousness. âOnly a little. This is a workplace, after all.â
He adopts a similar expression and nods. âOf course. I imagine there will be paperwork as well.â
âThere actually is a form weâll need to file with HR,â you say.
Loki frowns. âWait, youâre not being serious about that, are you?â
âYep. Weâll need to file it by next Friday.â
He sighs and throws his hands up in the air. âIs there anything that this place hasnât managed to weigh down with the burden of unnecessary bureaucracy?â
âI see weâre in a good mood this morning.â Mobius has arrived, cup of coffee in hand. He nods at Loki and looks at you. âHow long has he been raging against the machine?â
âNot terribly long,â you say as Loki rolls his eyes.
âItâs not raging against anything,â he says. âI just fail to see the point of some of this organizationâs operational practices.â
Mobius raises an eyebrow at you. âYou told him he has to fill out a form, huh?â
âGot it in one,â you say as Loki scowls.
Mobius chuckles and takes a sip of coffee. âYou should hear him during performance evaluation season. I get entire monologues. Itâs like Hamlet meets HR.â
Lokiâs scowl deepens and you have to bite the inside of your cheek in order not to laugh.
âIt looks like you made good progress, though,â says Mobius, looking at your completed stacks of files. âI took a look at what you pulled earlier this morning and thereâs some good stuff.â
âOh, good,â you say, hoping he doesnât think much of the fact that neither one of you was in the office earlier this morning. âWhat time do you think youâll need the rest done?â
âRight, about that,â says Mobius. You steel yourself for bad news. âI took a look at what you pulled so far and I think Iâve got what I need.â
You blink at him. âWait, really?â
âYeah, youâre off the hook,â he says. âGo enjoy the rest of your weekend.â
You look at Loki, who looks just as pleasantly surprised as you feel.
âIn fact, you can take the rest of the week off,â says Mobius. âTriple overtime, right? You earned the time.âÂ
âThis feels like a trick,â says Loki. âWhatâs the catch?â
âNo catch,â says Mobius. âYou did good work.â He takes a sip of his coffee. âHoweverââ
âAnd thereâs the catch,â says Loki.
âThereâs no catch,â says Mobius. He gestures at you with his coffee cup. âIâm just going to need you both to turn in the relevant paperwork to HR by next Friday.â
Loki sighs, though you can tell heâs fighting a smile. âThereâs absolutely no privacy here.â
Mobius raises his eyebrows. âYouâre playing footsie under the desk. Itâs not exactly rocket science.â
You look at Loki and shrug. âHeâs got a point.â
âYouâre taking his side?â
You roll your eyes and stand up. âWell, you can sulk about it if youâd like, but Iâm going to go enjoy the rest of my weekend.â You share a sly, secret smile with Mobius. âIâll see you next week, Mobius.â
It takes Loki approximately twenty seconds to catch up with you.
âAnd you say Iâm incorrigible,â he says as he falls into step beside you.
You smile at him. âI think youâll get over it.â
âIâll consider it.â He catches your band, fingers twining with yours. âWhat are your plans for the rest of the week?â
âHadnât decided,â you say, biting back a smile. âDid you have any suggestions?â
âWell, Iâd like to start by going back to bed.â
âTo sleep?â you tease.Â
âEventually.â He licks his lips. âAnd since our respective schedules have been cleared for the week, weâll be able to take our time.â
The hunger in his eyes is still so new and intoxicating that you canât help the shiver that works its way up your spine.
You give him a slow smile. âLead the way.â
#loki smut#loki x reader smut#loki x reader#loki laufeyson smut#loki x female reader#loki x female reader smut#loki laufeyson#loki fanfiction#loki fanfic#tva loki x reader#overtime series
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so um, can we get some kenji Sato x Baseball reader? something like enemies to lovers, where Kenji is jealous of the reader for being one of the best baseball players in the women's league in Japan? to the point where some people say the reader is better than Kenji at the game? (or something like that idk loll) (I'm NOT good at english, I'm sorry if there are any mistakes or something like that)
PUZZLE PIECES. kenji sato x reader
you truly held no ill intentâyou just couldnât stand him sometimesâand maybe there was potential between the two of you. not chemistry. potential. potential to be friends. not anything else. you wouldnât mind if anything else came to be, though.
cw. i decided to combine these two requests because it would be easy to fit them into a story. rivals -> friends -> lovers, reader is shown to be kind of nonchalant, drunk confession, frequent and unpredictable perspective switches, gn!reader, readerâs ex is desperate, kenji and reader banter for half the story. if i wrote it in full, it would be too long to share to tumblr but too targetted to share anywhere else, so itâs only 4.5k words, weird pacing of the story, there are sprinkles and references to my previous drabbles with kenji, all around a rollercoaster, i wrote this in a day so i apologize if itâs wonky as hell, unproofreaded, lowercase intended, rivalry is kind of one sided because reader is written to have a sort of muted admiration of kenji
notes. iâm not as confident with this story as i am for my other ones :( i usually write mini fics, but this is a full fledged one shot and i am very critical of my one shots. i hope i donât disappoint ! thank you all for enjoying my work :)
you remember him more than anyone. kenji sato, baseball star, highschool heartthrob with a heart of stone. you remember how arrogant he was too. you hate to admit it, but you understood why. you wanted to be as skilled as he was, and he didnât believe you could be anything else but a water runnerâsomething he said. to your face, too. you didnât find it in yourself to hate him, infactâyou were his biggest admirer then.
even now, you are. just subtly. he is the first name that comes up on your feed, and the last thought that leaves your mind when you finally go to bed. you smile, lazily, as you scroll through your phone and see his latest win. you want to dislike him, but you canât; so you pretend. you filter it. itâs an act that comes down whenever you are in the comfort of your own home; where you can freely adore him.
heâs still so fucking cool.
kenji sunk into his beloved couch, exhausted after yet another game. he threw his head back, staring at the ceiling, relishing in the afterglow of victory. âhey mina!â he called, a cocky grin on his face as the a.i. assistant glided over to him. âyes ken?â she asks, knowing that heâs probably up to something but giving in anyway. âwho can outmatch the greatest living player?!â he boomed, his voice bouncing off the walls as he flat-out refused to get off his high.
mina, tonight, decided to have fun. so, with a quick skim of the internet, and a particularly informative articleâshe pulled up a face on a projected screen, and replied with an answer he didnât expect. a name. kenjiâs smile left as quick as the light in his eyes did. âwhat? no way!â he laughed it off, but the faraway look in his eye said it all. it got under his skin. what did you have that he didnât? that made you better than him? what was your batting average? how many stolen bases did you have? how can he schedule a âfriendlyâ game between your team and his?
how can he win?
âno way, mina.â he scoffed, trying to collect himselfâthe afterglow leaving him for a dullness he couldnât explain. âthereâs no way i just won one of the biggest games of my life and theyâre just there, and the publicâs eating them all up and calling them better of a player than i am. what makes them a better player than me?â his arrogant rambling leaves a bitter taste in his mouthâand kenji steps back a bit, actually recollecting himself because he knows better than this. he knows better than to let his emotions get in the way; atleast now. minaâs spinning around in circles, the bot observing kenjiâs improvement. if she could, sheâd smile. but she canât, so she speaks to him as if she were smiling. âthey cooperate well with their teammates.â she states, simply.
kenji pulls at his hair.
you stare in utter disbelief as the crowd cheers your name, wondering how exactly you got this far. you couldnât even hold a bat properly once, and now, a couple years later, you run the bases after yet another home run. youâve been carrying your team, but theyâve been the ones ordering you around because if youâre being honest, you genuinely have no idea what youâre doing. what are you even doing? how have you gotten this far? well, you know the answerâamazing teammates, good eye-to-hand coordination, and most importantly, luck.
kenji sits in the stands, mouth parted as he watches you run. you improved, he can tell, and he hates that heâs proud. the only luck heâs been given is that heâs disguised. his sunglasses donât show his disdain (is it truly disdain? he wants it to be. he ignores that heâs amazed.) and his facemask, in response to how gagged he was, just wrinkled a bit. âyouâre shitting meâŠâ he thinks aloud, watching as you celebrated with your team; another win to cross off.
he tries to leave discreetly, he really doesâbut you make eye contact with him. he goes rigid. you walk over, bidding farewell to the rest of your group as you approach him. you look up at kenji, and something in you just knows. but you want to pretend, you have to pretend; and it wasnât your fault if you wanted to have a little fun, too. you put up a sweet, sweet smileâ
âare you a fan?â you ask, âwould you like my autograph?â you ask again, and he sucks in a breath. no one is here, not anyone that matters atleastâ everyoneâs skittering out of the dome and suddenly kenji is, too. he wants to walk pass you, but in fairness, he was provoked first. âno, actually.â he replies, coolly, and thereâs this glint in your eye that has maggots forming in kenjiâs stomach, eating away at his insidesâor perhaps, theyâre butterflies. kenji doesnât want to think about it. he just wants to think about you. âyou win a couple games and suddenly you think youâre the star of the show?â he tilts his head, walking closer to you. his sunglasses are taken off, and now heâs really looking down on you. you, who only shrugs. âi mean, maybe.â you say. âi definitely outshine you though, donât i?â you retort and he hisses. the scene is reminiscent of two cats, circling eachother as they bare their fangs. âwow, and here i was,â kenji dramatically began, âabout to apologize to you for all that shit in highschool!â he continued, and he was about to open his mouth again before you intervened. âoh, you mean where you peaked?â
âexcuse me?â said through grit teeth. âhighschool?â you chirped, âwhere you peaked?â âoh, excuse me.â he gasped, taken aback. you snickered, and he sneered. âyouâre the worst.â he leaned in close, eager to get that through your headâeager to get under your skin as much as you got under his, but you only blinked up at him with a slight blush on your face.
âare we about to kiss right now?â you raise an eyebrow promiscuously, and kenji almost claws at you before he clasps his hand together. he stays like that. you take a second to realize heâs doing breathing exercises. âwhy the fuck is he doing breathing exercises?â
it slips out. it genuinely, truthfully just slips outâyou think out loud and kenji sato, the man of japan himself, literally goes red in the face. he turns to you, then turns around and walks away.
even when heâs all red and embarrassed, he is still so freakishly cool.
it seems all kenji wants to do is one up you, and all you really want to do is go to dinner with him. itâs embarrassing, the hardened glare he sends you when he sees you in the stands, ready to watch his games. you want him so bad and he thinks you take joy in his displeasure, and you know that this is such a stupid misunderstanding but itâs⊠well, itâs fun. and you havenât had any opportunities to even try and talk to him, because he always gives you sass. how could a man have that much sass? even you donât know, and you like to think you know everything. you know that kenjiâs cute as hell, and that you want him really bad, and thatâs all that you need to know. ever.
meanwhile, kenji is irritated at the mention of youâand he makes it known with a scrunch of his nose and a frown on his lips. when you walk into the room, he rolls his eyes. when you run your hands through your hair, you swear you see his gaze linger but you donât know if itâs truly a gaze, or a glare. you want to speak to him, but with the way he holds his bat like itâs a weapon around you makes it seem like he wants to spar. you do not want to spar. itâs the same as always, todayâanother game won by the giants, another game you attended, and another game kenji had a harder time locking in on.
you try and try and you keep on tryingâactually, you donât plan on stopping. kenji sees you as an enemy, but all you see in him is a potential husband. he canât be that bad, right? not as bad as your last one. no one can be as bad as your last one, and it irks you just thinking about him. you donât even want to call him an ex of yours, because he was never truly yours in the first place.
no, he wasnât. four months down the drain just like that, because he couldnât keep it in his pants when a pretty girl asked him to dance.
what a shame.
you had a visceral reaction to your own mind, and your face soured before you even felt it. kenji saw that, and his eyes darkened. âyou have a problem with how i play today?â he was up in your face before you knew, his face as sour as yours. you jump back. âwhy do you care if i do?â you bring up, âyou wanna impress me?â
âto hell with impressing you.â âto hell with you.â âoh, youâre the worst.â âis that all you can say?â âif i said all i could, youâd sue me.â âno, i wouldnât care enough. my parents raised me better.â âso did mine.â
you bite your tongue, then. youâre silent as he looks at you, and under his scrutiny, you shrink. the smirk on his face is smug and insufferable, as expected of someone so hellbent on one upping you.
âhey now, why so quiet?â there he is again, getting all up in your face and rubbing his seven seconds of victory to you. âcat got your tongue?â
âprecisely. thatâs the first thing weâve agreed on.â âno, it isnât.â âyes, it is.â âno, it isnât.â âno, it isnât.â âyes it isâhey!â kenji caught himself, or tried to, but it was already way too late. âhah! youâre a complete ditzââ you exclaimed, before kenji shushed you with a light punch.
âiâll have you know that we have an exhibition game tomorrow and i plan on destroying you.â he talks big, but the chances of him serving up a win is small. you have to thank kenji for making you more confident in your skills, because of just how butthurt he is over you. heâs waited long for this moment; to finally be able to face off against youâshow the people who the top dog truly isâand now he has it.
and he wonât disappoint.
the game ended abruptly due to a kaiju targetting the dome it was set in, and you couldnât help but notice kenjiâs panic in the corner of your eye. you couldnât blame him, you were scared out of your mind tooâbut then he didnât run towards the exit, he ran towards you. âwatch out!â he called, and you looked up and froze.
debris was coming down on you, and fast.
when you looked down in a panic, trying to see where to goâken was no where to be found, and from behind you, the famous ultraman made his appearance. he greeted you, albeit a bit⊠sassy. a familiar kind, one that you seemed to recognizeâyou just couldnât put your finger on it.
âbro, can you get movingâi meanâ cease this.. dawdling! faithful citizen, leave at once or you might get hurt!â he boomed, his voice echoing the same way a certain other personâs did. he held the debris that was going to crush you in a single hand, and you could only gawk.
who were you to deny ultraman?
after that encounter, you didnât see each other for a while. it admittedly made you a bit sad, you truly held no ill intentâyou just couldnât stand him sometimesâ and maybe there was potential between the two of you. not chemistry. potential. potential to be friends. not anything else.
you wouldnât mind if anything else came to be, though.
tonight, you had decided to treat yourself; a night at tonkatsu tonki would do for sure. you placed an order and sat tight, bundled up in one of the comfy booths in the corner as you scrolled through your phone. it did do, so far! you felt your muscles loosen and your jaw unclench with each smile sent your way. for once, you felt yourself relaxâthen you heard someone call out your name. someone you couldnât forget. not yet, atleastâthe wound was still healing. you refused to pick at it even further. you looked up andââoh fuck.â
âwhat are you doing here?â your most recent mistake asks. he tries to get close to you, to sit in your booth and disturb your peaceâbut you stand up before he does. âwhy do you care?â
âbecause this was our spot.â he replies, âwe came here for our three month anniversarââ he tries to continue but youâre so tired. you stop him with a raise of your hand, âthis was not where we went. youâd have known if you paid attention to me while we were together.â your response is curt, and you see hurt flash in his eyesâsimilar to the way it flashed in yours whenever he pulled the same bullshit he promised not to pull. âlisten, iâm sorryââ you ignore him the same way he did when you tried to speak. you turn, going back to your booth but he pulls you by the wrist and you realize that he doesnât want to say sorry.
rather, he wants to show heâs sorry. or maybe thatâs not the case eitherâmaybe he wants to make you sorry.
regardless, you yank your hand away and stomp on his footâhe curses. youâre lucky the restaurantâs nearing closing time, otherwise youâd have more of an audience and therefore more of a PR nightmare. he raises his hand, and you raise your own to block what you know will be a hitâbut nothing comes. well, no one except kenji. he has his hand on your exâs wrist, as he squeezes it tightâenough to bruise.
âwhat the fuck do you think youâre doing?â his face is scrunched up in anger, and you sigh in relief. ânone of your fucking business.â your ex repliesâhe tries to act tough, but his voice cracks and you know heâs scared. kenji takes the chance to get a good look at him, and he cracks up. âyou⊠you play for the tigers, donât you? we decimated you. had your teamâs heads on the ground from how embarrassed they were last time we played; you wanna take another defeat?â he snickers. your mouth drops in awe of the sudden juicy drama unfolding, and also partially because kenji is really, really handsome.
the restaurantâs emptied out by now, and you three are only accompanied by the employeesâwho are reluctantly waiting for the two men to settle their little scuffle. you watch as your ex tries to struggle against him, tries to run off, and the only thought in your mind is: what did i ever see in him?
âlet me go!â he yells, âlet them go, first.â
your ex looks between him and you, who only calls a waiter over to order a drink. two drinks, to be exact. he stomps out of the restaurant right after. kenji is about to leave, as well, but tonkatsu tonki closes in thirty minutesâand you have a drink and a free seat. he canât resist. he slides into your booth with an undeniable swagger, relishing in yet another victory as you smile kindly. âyou didnât have to do all that.â you start, sheepishlyâhe just takes a sip of the drink you ordered him. âyeah, well, i did. what about it?â you raise your hands in mock surrender, and he lets out a lighthearted laugh. âthank you, then. thank you for doing all that.â
âdonât get used to it.â he points, and this timeâyou laugh. you ask him about his day, and suddenly thirty minutes feels like forever. by the time you two get kicked out of the restaurant, he has your number unblocked and a promise to be annoyed every single day that a part of him hopes youâll keep.
there was a spark, then, and it lit up so evidently between the two of you. a piece of eachother, found in each other. it was an epiphany to kenji, and an honor for you. you fit together like puzzle pieces, and yet you didnât even realize it because you were both so intent on making the wrong parts of yourself fit, when they didnât.
eventually, unblocked numbers turned to frequent messages, and frequent messages turned to inside jokesâinside jokes became personal hangouts. kenji sato found himself a part of your life, and he ended up loving it. your bickering became friendly, and lighthearted bullying was always a welcome notionâ he made it a point to beat your ass at baseball as often as he could, but he always took you out to drink, on him. if he won. if he didnât, youâd be the one treating him. it was a win-win situation for the both of you, even though one of you lost.
eventually, feelings blossomed.
kenjiâs smiles made you smile, and he started buying things because those things reminded him of you; his heart beat a little faster as you walked over to greet him, and your cheeks burned whenever he winked at the screen during games. eventually, that friendly banter became more⊠flirty. you were toeing the line between friends and lovers.
you loved it.
kenji snaked an arm around your shoulder as you sat, thigh pressed against thigh, your head leaning on his bicep. you were at another bar, and ken was in another world. it was no surprise to you that he was a light weight, and with several swigs of his second bottleâhe had been reduced to a blabbing baby of a man. a blabbing baby of a man who was getting suspiciously close to youâtoo close to just be platonic affection. you wonder if heâll remember this the next day. you hope he doesnât, with all the nonsense heâs spouting about being ultraman and how saving the city from kaiju is his ultimate duty. itâs going to be embarrassing, especially since itâs in such a public setting.
you take an uber to your house; heâll have to deal with it if he wants to save his career after all. itâs a complete pain in the ass to haul his ass to the cab, but the way his hair frames his face just rightâreddened face still handsome as he glances down at you, you just accept that some men are born as apologies for the existence of the entire male gender.
the entire car ride is full of the uber driver trying not to laugh as you struggle against kenji, who wants to sleep on your lap but canât because the car is too small. the driver bursts into laughter as kenji starts crying, and you pull out your phone.
it can not be this hard to take care of a drunk man.
kenji is laying on the cold tile of your floor, tapping at the air because he thinks itâs an ipad and you have to resist the urge to just leave him to his own devices. you know damn well he wonât let you, anyway. heâs had his hand wrapped around your ankle for the past two minutes. âkenji.â you start, âlet go.â
âerm⊠no.â âkenji.â âi love it when you say my name.â he says, amidst an abundance of giggles. youâre being pulled down onto the floor with him, and thereâs remnants of that one strawberry cocktail he had before shit really hit the fan in his breath. âsay my name again.â he asks, and you say it againânot knowing itâll unleash a conversation you never knew you wantedâneededâto have.
âkenji.â you say his name again, for the third time, your face heating up as he buries his face into your stomach, inhaling your scent. âyouâre perfect.â he says, slurring over his words and you freeze. âdidnât know that was something youâd ever say to me. usually, youâd be focused on strategizing how to keep beating me at baseball.â you mutter, softlyâand a part of you finds humor in the situation. you want to, atleast. you find no humor, but you do find hopeâfor what, you donât know.
âi find myself focusing on you more, heheââ you bite your lip. you muffle out his laughs. heâs just drunk. âyou know, iâm better than him.â heâs just drunk. âi donât see why you havenât just thrown me over your shoulder yet,â he pauses, to let out yet another intoxicated laugh. âif you gave me a chance, iâd prove it too.â he hiccups.
youâre on your tiled floor, laying down with a six foot tall man and heâs confessing his love to you in drunk rambles. heâs promising heâs better than all your exes. he would be.
how did you get here again? why donât you want to leave?
âbro, i want you so badâŠ.â
ah, thatâs why. you turn to face him, and heâs already looking at you. his eyes are glazed over with love so strong you know heâs been hiding it for too long, and you decide maybe it wonât be too bad just laying here. ââŠhow long?â you inquire. his eyes sparkle, âsince you ordered me that drink at tonkatsu tonki.â
âthatâs a long time.â âi have a hard time communicating how much i truly value a person.â âi can see that.â âi can see you.â âand what do you think?â your lip quirks up, and he grins. âyouâre perfect.â his hands find themselves on your waist, and you want to pull backâbut he pulls you in faster, not into a kiss, but into a hug. âiâd treat you so good.â he starts again. âbetter than any one of your miserable exes. iâd take you out on dates weekly, and weâd have movie nights bi weekly where we interchange who picks the movies, and when we go to the bar together, iâll show you off. when i win my games, iâll point at you.â he babbles, and you look up at him as you listen to him promise a string of temptations you canât help but give in to. âiâd treat you so, so good. make you come over, and then come over and ovââ
âokay, i get it.â âcan i get you, then?â âmaybe, when youâre not drunk.â âiâm not drunk. my name is kenji.â âokay kenji.â âmy last name is sato. can you get that too?â âwhen youâre not drunk, kenji.â âno, itâs just kenji. not drunk kenji.â âdo you want to sleep here or in the guest bedroom?â you deadpan. he blinks. âhere. itâs comfier.â âokay, goodnightââ âstay with me. just this once.â
you want to reject him, but you also donât want to. so you cave, again, to his charms. he holds you so gently, cradling the back of your head with his palm as you listen to him babble. he seems to never stop professing his love for you, and you, lowkey, arenât complaining. you deal with his blabber until he blacks out, and you look around to see if kenji has all he needs when he wakes up. itâs a chaotic situation, and youâre seconds away from going out of your mindâbut you look around as if youâre looking around a baseball field. a glass of water and the bottle of tylenol is in arms reach, his things are on the couch, and you are in his arms.
you donât want to leave, and it makes you sick.
you wake up and youâre faced with the bare wall and raging back pain. you groan, your eyes scanning the roomâkenji isnât here anymore. you make a mental note to check your phone, later. maybe he texted. you stand up and stretch, and before you can recover, a pair of hands poke your sides. you jump away, shrieking as youâre met with a kenji whoâs as equal of a mess as you are. his eyes are framed by dark circles, and his hair isnât as immaculate as it usually isâitâs the most attractive state youâve ever seen him in.
âhi.â is all he says, and you take deep breaths. âyouâre fucking crazy.â you say, âcrazy over you.â
he remembers. your eyes bulge out of your own skull, threatening to fall out at any second, and you hold onto the wall for support as you try to keep it cool. âwhatâwhat.â well played. super smooth. the swagger is evident. what time is it? itâs only eleven am and youâre humiliating yourself. youâre dazed as kenji walks over to you, his eyes never once leaving yoursâyou want to look down, but you canât stop looking at him. âsoâŠâ you start, but he doesnât let you finish. not yet, atleast. heâs always been fond of edging. he liked the control, and being controlledâ âso?â
âyou remember.â you gulp. âi do, yeah.â âokay, well.. what do you think?â
âi think youâre perfect.â he bites the inside of his cheek, ââand i think i could treat you better than him.â
your whole world shakes. your heartâs beating and it bruises your ribs, and that would be enough of a confessionâbut he continues.
âand i truly donât see why you havenât thrown me over your shoulder yet, because i could prove it too.â heâs restating every point he made last night and itâs killing you. your silence only makes him want to continue. âiâll treat you so good. movies, money, gifts, datesâanything you want as long as itâs you. iâll treat you better than any one of your miserable exes.â when he smirks, you notice that one side of his lip quirks up higher than the other; a flaw, but one he let you see. no oneâs gotten this close, after all. only you.
âthat is, if youâll give me a chance.â his confidence wavers, but the sparkle in his eyes gives you all the convincing you need. âyou didnât need to do all that.â you start, the familiar words rolling off your tongue easily. his smirk becomes a smile. âyeah, well, i did. what about it?â
itâs an unspoken truth that the both of you know. he holds out his hand, and you place your smaller one on topâhe inches it closer to his lips, and kisses each knuckle.
heâs all yours.
âyou took a long ass time trying to confess. and you didnât even do it sober.â you call out, and kenji cringes at his own cowardice but he defends himself anyway. âhey! i re-confessed now!â
âre-confess? what?â âi just redid my confession.â âmore like re-useââ âcan i kiss you now?â
the question is so sudden, you place your free hand on your chest as you gasp. kenji cringes, again, at how direct he wasâhe opens his mouth to apologize, but he barely gets a word in.
when your lips find eachother, they fit together like puzzle pieces.
#kenji sato x reader#ken sato x reader#kenji sato#ken sato#ultraman#ultraman rising#ultraman 2024#ultraman rising x reader#ultraman kenji sato
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All your posts are making me like đ« I think I reblogged all three keke
I need to shout about this... In the Miracle tiktok where Taehyun is dancing while SoobKai film with ILLIT... I don't know if he's eating or chewing gum but it looks like he's chewing gum and why is it so attractive to me. Now I've combined this with basketball Taehyun, thinking how hot it would be to watch him doing a solo practice, shooting and doing dribbling drills while casually making conversation with you, chewing gum the whole time. Am I crazy? Maybe, because before now, I'd probably say gum is gross.
WAIT but now I'm imagining this scenario is the first time you hang out after he sees you fraternising with the enemy (Yeonjun) and he's trying to act like it doesn't bother him that you gave him your number, only that you were clapping for the wrong team OKAY stop me and my imagination đ
I love Taehyun
and I love you, so glad to see you're still around đ
CEE I love you too! and I'm happy to see you around also <3 you have no idea how much I've been giggling to myself from your tags hehe :> thank you for the rbs and reading your reactions were fun too đ€ and you saying that I make sport-centric fics fun for you to read is truly a huge compliment to me omg, I always get nervous because I'm not 100% sure about what I'm writing most of the time, so thank you ilysm đ«¶đŒ
ALSO reading this made my jaw drop because you're literally onto something with that omg. I noticed that too during soogyu's tiktok with ILLITâ it's the way taehyun does it so nonchalantly with the subtle chewing and it is kinda hot. I used to find people who do that quite obnoxious lmao, but like I can't stand if they're really smacking their gum, ygm? ANYWAYâ
jealous bsf!taehyun x gn!reader, dialogue heavy
okay so, the first time you and taehyun hang out after the game is a couple of days later. he'd agreed to hang out with you at the park since you both had checked the weather in advance; it was sunnier than usual. you both decided to meet each other at your regular spot and you're not surprised to find taehyun already there, sitting on the grass and on his phone. usually he'd notice you when you walk up behind him, but it was almost like he'd purposely ignored you and waiting until you had to announce that you were there.
"tyun?" you sit beside him slowly leaning in to give him a usual hug when you greet each other but he gave you a lazy side hug. damn. "been waiting long?"
"no."
that's all you get? he pockets his phone, palms against the grass as he leans back chewing his gum nonchalantly and looking at the busy field in front of you. there seems to be a group of high schoolers training for soccer.
"um, are we good?" you ask quietly, heart pounding in your chest and a little afraid for the first time in forever.
he hums, eyes focused on the ball being passed from player to player.
"yeah, why wouldn't we?" his voice monotone but knowing taehyun, that was normal. "how's yeonjun. are you guys like text buddies now or something?"
now that wasn't what you were expecting. well shit. taehyun's mad and you don't know if that's all he has to say about it.
"no, tyun. he didn't even call me so I don't even have his number. I'm assuming he's busy is all. I wasn't really expecting much." you nudge his shoulder playfully, craning your neck in attempt to be in his visual field, but to no avail, his vision doesn't budge. you sit back in your original position, also watching the ball from afar. "does it bother you?"
you best friend scoffs, apparently he finds something humorous that you possibly missed.
"it doesn't. why'd you even talk to that guy anyway, you know he just does that to boost his ego because he lost the game." taehyun finally turns his head to look at you and you look at him within a fraction of a second, eyes holding eye contact for the first time that day.
"I'm sure he had good intentions-"
"good intentions." taehyun scoffs again, almost chuckles after he repeats it again. "that guy never has good intentions, ___. and I thought you were there to support me, then I catch you clapping for his three pointer."
your stomach churns a little from the guilt. you didn't know he saw that. and what do you even say? you thought it was impressive? you had a feeling yeonjun shot that shot for you?
"don't even try and think of some lame ass excuse because you know damn well I can tell when you're not telling me the truth." his voice assertive but his gaze on you softens, wanting you to be comfortable with him like you usually are.
you let out a deep sigh.
"he looked at me before that moment and I assumed he did that to impress me..." your voice trails off, trying to look at taehyun through your peripheral, not wanting to look at him directly. "I don't know tyun, he seemed pretty genuine and he's kinda cute too."
after explaining as honestly as you could, the air was filled with a short silence between the both of you and distant shouting and birds flying by.
"I can be kinda cute too." taehyun grumbles under his breath and you swear it wasn't some sort of auditory hallucination. that is what you heard, right?
"hm?" you turn to him, tilting your head to the side waiting for him to hopefully repeat himself.
"why'd you want him when I've been here all this time." his rhetorical reply left you blinking a couple of times, processing what exactly he's inferring. "in short, you have me. and I have you."
your chest starts heaving slowly. taehyun, your best friend, really said that. his fingers gently caresses yours, also supporting your weight on the grass while you both lean back.
the train of thought in your discombobulated mind is disrupted by him calling your name, now in a softer tone.
"so, what do you say? I'm willing to risk this friendship and try something more with you, ___. if you let me."
his says his confession, almost as if he's been yearning for you to be his for a while, but is it wrong that you still can't stop thinking about yeonjun?
"taehyun," you sit upright, holding his hand in yours. "I'm going to be honest with you, but promise me don't get mad."
the hope in taehyuns eyes disappears, feeling his heart sink to his stomach ready for your rejection. he nods.
"I love you, and always have, but that's because you're my best friend. and at the moment, yeonjun left quite the impression on me so he's still on my mind, but there's nothing much that helps him in his favour."
"so what you're saying is?" your fingers interlock with his, your thumb rubbing the back of his.
"is that I'm willing to try this with you, because, unlike you," you tease, "I like to give people chances."
you prod at his side as he exhales and rolls his eyes playfully.
"I couldn't risk you being whisked away before I even made a move on you." taehyun defends himself the best he could.
"no but really, from time to time I have felt like I've loved you more than a friend. so that's why I want to try, but can we take it slow?"
"yeah, of course. I'll just have to push yeonjun out your thoughts first." his comment makes you laugh.
taehyun's singular dimpled smile returns and it's contagious, he has you smiling back at him too. you didn't realise when you two ended up sitting closer to each other to close the gap, but you took the opportunity to lean your head on his shoulder.
"and you are kinda cute."
© BOBA-BEOM ; all rights reserved. do not repost, copy, alter or translate in any way or platform.
#cee ᥣđ©#mapofthemazeinthemirror ᥣđ©#[ đȘŽ ] â asks.#[ 𧞠] â mutuals.#I got carried away lmao#again probably took a different turn#but :>#I love taehyun too hehe#taehyun soft thoughts#taehyun soft hours#taehyun fluff#taehyun angst
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Warrior Song 4
Find the series masterlist
Still working our way towards some plot, some fun, and some silliness.Â
Donât take any of this too seriously - I am playing very fast and loose with canon on this fic. Also, I named the Weapon Joy. Because I can.Â
Warnings: Swearing, frustration, one mildly suicidal joke, self-deprecation, one smooch.Â
Word count: 2.7k
Just a couple days later, Chief returned. Which you wouldnât have known, since youâd hidden in the back of the medbay to make more painkiller tea, except that someone started calling your name.Â
âWhatâs up?â you asked Carter, emerging enough to see him.Â
He looked both relieved and upset, which was⊠definitely a combination. One that stirred unease in your heart. âThe Master Chief is asking for you,â he said in a hiss, as if someone were listening in. âHurry up!â
âWhat?â You frowned but set your things down, following Carter. âThatâs ridiculous.â
âItâs true! He asked! I heard him!â Carter trotted off, expecting you to follow. Which you did.Â
Fernando spotted you and smiled, a brief look of relief crossing his features. âWe heard everyone moved here,â he said, giving you a quick once-over.
âYeah, weâre all here. All is well.â You paused. âWell enough, anyway. You? Any injuries?â
âNo, no, I stay out of the fighting, let the big guy handle it.â He jerked a thumb towards an exam room with a wry grin. âBetter that way.âÂ
You hummed acknowledgement of that. âIâm glad to see youâre alright.âÂ
The door to the exam room opened and your boss stepped out, expression tight. âI thought you werenât on shift,â she said when she saw you, just on the edge of actually pissed off.Â
âI was just doing some work in the back, on my own time.â You straightened your shoulders, standing taller, refusing to be cowed.Â
And she might have had more to say, except the Chief stepped out of the exam room, taking in everything in a glance from behind his helmet. He nodded to you and walked out, Fernando on his heels.Â
âYouââ Your boss turned on you, expression going cold.Â
âIâll get out of here,â you hurriedly agreed, before she could really get started. âCarter, take care of the teas in the back, please.â And you beat a hasty retreat after the Chief and Fernando.Â
You never claimed to be brave.Â
âHave you seen the other Spartans yet?â you asked, jogging a little to catch up to the two men. Who both turned to look at you.
âOthers?â Chief asked quietly.
âYeah. I know there are a few around on a rotating basis, but Iâve seen Kelly, Blue Three, a few times. And Blue Four, and one other, were here yesterday, I spotted all three of them together.â You shrugged. It made sense to you - all Spartans probably knew each other, especially since theyâd all been on the Infinity together. And you were like ninety percent certain all four were from the same generation of Spartans.Â
âWhere?â He sounded interested now, more animated.Â
âNo idea where they are now, but Iâll show you where Iâve seen them before.â You took the lead, heading off a bit to the side of the main camp. The area had been set aside for what armor maintenance was possible, as well as some sleeping quarters.Â
Chief overtook you then, heading straight for an armored Spartan. You hung back with Fernando, feeling almost like you were intruding on something.Â
âAre you okay?â Fernando asked quietly, looking at you.
âMe? Of course. Yeah, Iâm fine.â You forced a little laugh, looking away. âWhy wouldnât I be?â
âYou just seemâŠâ But Fernando trailed off, apparently giving up on words. You were rather grateful for that.Â
âIâm gonna go get some food,â you lied, suddenly desperate with the need to be anywhere else. âLet me know if you guys need help with anything, okay?â And you were gone, trotting off before Fernando could really object.Â
Apparently today was just not a day that you could be a proper person. You needed something else to do. Going back to make more tea was not an option, and you didnât want to hinder anyone stuck with you for searching through the Reverie.Â
Which left the old standard: searching for plants.Â
You didnât intend to wander far. You didnât take a soldier with you either. You just⊠slipped off. Quietly. Without even stopping to get a basket.Â
You just needed something to keep yourself busy until your brain stopped overloading. That was all.Â
You didnât come back with much of anything useful, but you did at least come back before dark.Â
Even though you regretted it the next day by noon.
Your head ached from clenching your teeth, your shoulders ached from holding your tension, and you were so close to snapping at someone you werenât sure whether to run or seek out a fight.Â
And your boss was officially on your shit list.Â
You left medbay the moment you could, stomping away. A few people moved out of your way, eyes wide, as if you were actually dangerous. You nearly laughed, but couldnât quite manage it. Instead you scanned for somewhere, anywhere, you could hide until you regained your composure.
A Pelican. Probably the only one youâd seen. You made straight for it, hoping it would be empty and you could hide inside for a few minutes.Â
Luck was not on your side.Â
Chief, Fernando, and a blue glowing AI all turned to look at you as you hopped up the ramp. You stopped, heart pounding, hands shaking.Â
âJust let me hide here for twenty minutes,â you blurted, and immediately winced. âPlease.âÂ
âWhatâs wrong?â Chief spoke first, shifting your way.Â
âNothing. Not the kind of thing you can shoot.â You shrugged, frustrated and a little embarrassed. âNevermind.â
âWait,â Fernando reached out a hand, pausing before he actually caught hold of your arm. âUse the cockpit, close the doors. Take as long as you want.âÂ
âThank you.â You swallowed hard and stepped past him, going into the cockpit and closing the doors. You sank to the floor, putting your head down and focusing on breathing.Â
You werenât sure how long you sat there, calming down, settling back in your own skin, before a knock on the door caught your attention.Â
âChief had an idea,â Fernando called, raising his voice a little to be heard through the metal. âIf you wanna hear it.â
One last deep breath bolstered you enough to stand, and you opened the door. You still felt a little off-kilter, but better. âYeah?âÂ
âWe found somewhere we marked to recon later,â Fernando explained. âFigured we could head up there now.âÂ
You eyed him and then Chief. âLong as I donât need a gun,â you quipped, relaxing a little.Â
âGreat!â Fernando grinned as he stepped past you. âIâm gonna assume youâre normal and need to strap in.â
You laughed a little. âWhat, does he not?â
âNever. Just stands there.â Fernando settled in the pilot seat, and you picked a seat near Chief. The engines rumbled to life, and you hung on a little harder to the grips.Â
âYouâll be fine.â The comforting rumble from Chief made you raise your gaze to him, finding him half-facing you, visor as impenetrable as ever. But his stance was relaxed, weapon on his back. He was unconcerned.Â
âI donât have the best associations with flying,â you admitted, shivering as you felt the Pelican lift off. âDid I see an AI earlier?âÂ
âHi!â The voice was female and chirpy, and Chief held out one hand to show the AI again. âIâm Joy.âÂ
âHi Joy.â You glanced up at Chief. âNice to meet you.âÂ
âYou too! Iâve heard a lot about you.â She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. âFernando is still impressed with the way you shout at people.â
You laughed, somehow surprised when it was a little wet. âYeah, well. Donât think Iâll be doing much of that.â You drew in a deep breath, grimacing at a bit of turbulence that rumbled the ship. âHow long is the flight?â
âNot long,â Joy chirped. âWe should be at our destination within ten minutes.âÂ
âGreat.â You held tighter at another little tremble through the ship.Â
âYouâre okay.â Chief moved, surprising you when he stood between you and the back of the Pelican. Boxing you in, more or less. Seated as you were, you were even smaller than him than normal. But you didnât feel intimidated. Just⊠safe.Â
âDo you always do this?â You couldnât quite stop yourself from asking, and regretted it almost immediately.Â
âDo what?âÂ
âPut yourself between people and danger, even if itâs just perceived.âÂ
âOften,â came the answer after a few long moments of silence. But he didnât move.Â
You tipped your head back to stare straight up into the visor, frowning just a little. âSo who supports you when you need it?âÂ
The Pelican dipped suddenly, unexpectedly, and you very nearly shrieked, clinging to the handholds. Chief didnât even say anything, just put one hand on your shoulder, keeping you firmly in your seat.
âSorry, sorry!â Fernando called back from the pilot seat. âHad to take a little detour to get there.âÂ
âDetour?â Chief did not sound amused.Â
âNot a direct route from here, parts of one of those towers had gotten in the way.âÂ
You closed your eyes and held your jaw tightly closed. You were not going to throw up on the Master Chief. It wasnât going to happen. Not a chance. Nope. No way.Â
âAlmost there,â Fernando said. Your stomach dropped as the Pelican did, and then it landed with a thump. You didnât move.Â
The ramp opened and you opened your eyes to make sure Chief was out of the way before you dashed outside. Still no throwing up. Good. Small favors.Â
And then the sight actually hit you and you forgot all about your stomach. The Pelican had landed much further up than you had been before, and you could see where the ground dropped away in a series of small cliffs. But more importantly, to the side of thatâ
âAre those hot springs?â
âThat was my guess.â Fernando stopped next to you, Chief on your other side. âFigured those would help morale.âÂ
"I'll check it out!" You started towards the hot springs.Â
And almost immediately stopped as Chief got in front of you.Â
"Wait."
"Oh come on! There's nothing up here except for us." You scowled a little up at the visor.Â
"Just wait."Â
"Best not to argue with him, he's stubborn," Fernando advised.Â
When you threw up your hands but subsided, Chief nodded and walked the perimeter of the hot springs, alert. Finally, he nodded to the two of you.Â
You beat Fernando to the water, having given up on any semblance of dignity, and crouched to put a hand in to test the temperature. "Oh, stars, it's warm."Â
"I'm getting in." Fernando's vest hit the ground a moment later.Â
You turned away to give him a semblance of privacy, and to take some for yourself, and jumped when you found Chief a few feet away.Â
"Turn around, please." You made a shooing motion at Chief. He tipped his head just a little to one side. "I need a little privacy."Â
Chief huffed. But turned around.Â
You did a quick bit of hopping and tossing your clothes before jumping in the water. Your underthings would be wet, but for a hot soak, youâd deal with it. The noise you made was nearly sinful as you immediately sank to your neck in warm water.Â
"This is the best thing ever," you said with feeling, eyes closing in absolute bliss. "I could kiss whoever spotted this."Â
"That would be Chief," Fernando told you, and when you opened your eyes again he was relaxing back against the wall opposite you. He looked quite relaxed as well. "You have him to thank."Â
"Remind me to kiss him." You beamed, warm and comfortable for the first time in what felt like ages.Â
Fernando wheezed out a little laugh. "I would pay to see that."Â
You chuckled and leaned your head back. "This is bliss. Absolute bliss. I don't think we should tell anyone so we can just come up here when we want."Â
"That idea has merit." Fernando sank lower in the water until his chin was submerged. He blew a few bubbles, making you snicker.Â
"Chief," you called. "Get in here."Â
"Negative." He barely even glanced your way.Â
"Doctor's orders." You hummed. "This is therapeutic and you need it too."Â
Chief shook his head. "I need to keep watch."Â
You stood up to look over at Chief. "We're the only ones here. We've got the high ground, no one's gonna sneak up on us."Â
"You two enjoy." Chief continued a slow patrol of the area, glancing over at the hot spring every so often.Â
"Leave him," Fernando grunted, stretching out under the water. "I'll drag him back up here sometime for his turn."Â
"I'll help." You sank back into the warm water, sighing in bliss. "I live here now. This is my new home. The base can do without me."Â
Fernando chuckled. "What did happen, earlier?"Â
You sighed again, but with much less pleasure this time. "I'm sick of people questioning me. Assuming I can't do my job, or I have ulterior motives, or whatever." You smiled up at the sky, sad and frustrated and defeated. "If it keeps happening, I may commit murder. Or walk to the edge of the Halo and throw myself off."Â
Fernando sucked in a breath, eyes open now as he watched you. âIf youâre joking, thatâs not funny.â
âIâm not joking.â You closed your eyes, unable to face him for this. âI have one job, Fernando. One. I am the third most harmless person on this ring. If I canât do my job and Iâm useless for everything else, why even bother.âÂ
âHey.â The water sloshed as Fernando moved, and a moment later a hand landed on your shoulder. You opened your eyes to find Fernando stopped at just under armâs length from you, respecting your privacy while still offering a point of physical contact. âYouâre doing great, you know that? Way better than I would be.âÂ
âIâm really not.âÂ
âI had a breakdown in front of Chief six or seven hours after we met.â Fernando spoke carefully but mostly without shame. âItâs been weeks since you met him. Youâre doing great.â
You laughed, a little wet but genuine. âWell if thatâs the metric,â you joked, leaning in a little closer. âOh man. He probably dragged you all over without even so much as a by-your-leave, huh?â
âGot it in one.â His smile was crooked but there and genuine.Â
âI can still hear you.â The comment was very dry, bordering on amused.Â
âSo no more gossiping about how pushy he is?â You smiled.Â
âI mean, whatâs he gonna do? Leave us here?â Fernando grinned, leaning back into his own spot. âFine by me.âÂ
You nearly cackled, sinking back down in the water. âYeah, youâre right. Weâre good here.âÂ
Eventually, though, Chief walked over and stood at the edge of the hot spring. âTime to go.âÂ
Fernando groaned but stood, turning to haul himself out of the water. You turned away and found a hand held out, ready to assist. The visor, of course, gave nothing away. But when you took his hand, Chief hauled you out of the water like you weighed nothing.Â
These Spartans were really going to get to you one of these days. Sooner rather than later if these displays continued.Â
âThank you,â you muttered, feeling distinctly warm as Chief let you go. You grabbed your clothes and tugged them on, grimacing at the pull of wet skin on dry clothes. Worth it, though.Â
The flight back down to base was short and thankfully smooth, although that didnât help your nerves. What helped your nerves was Chief wordlessly moving to block you in, one hand on your shoulder to hold you steady.Â
The ramp lowered and you stood, still riding the high of a hot soak. And, well, you had said youâd do thisâŠÂ
âChief?âÂ
He turned to look at you. You heard the door to the cockpit open. You took a deep breath.Â
And managed to get a good enough grip on his shoulders to haul yourself up to plant a kiss on the jaw of the helmet.Â
âThank you.â One last dazzling smile to the extremely still Spartan and you were gone, dashing off to your bunk to properly dry off and get into clean clothes.Â
That was enough bravery for the next year.
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Hey JJ! A shy Anon here lol; I hope youâre having a great day! đâš This isnât an ask, but itâs about Dark!Din and how you mentioned you want to write some Dark!Din. I can say that personally, Iâm not big on Dark!Din, but if itâs Dark!Din in YOUR writing? Oh, yes please!
I absolutely adore your writing, and while Domestic!Din is a lovely treat, I think that Dark!Din would be exhilarating to read with how you write. âš Plus if itâs something you really want to do, then I donât see why not! âš
- Your friendly neighborhood Shy Anon đ
Hold up hold up hold up you got me tearing up over heređ that was the sweetest most encouraging thing i've seen all week and i am in love with you shy, precious, perfect anonđ
Idk what it is but the fact that you would give Dark!Din a try just because of my writing????? IM SCREAMING. WHY ARE YOU SO CUTE AND PERFECT?
If it makes anyone feel better the Dark!Din I have in mind isn't as gnarly as some of the dark fics out there. I have this personal head canon that I think, if the stars aligned and everything went wrong, Din could slip onto a dark path with ease? Like obviously we all love him b/c of how good he is, but I just think he's the perfect combination of determined and protective that it could very easily turn into obsessive and possessive. Especially after losing everything he owns in the Crest, then losing Grogu, then losing his Creed and only having the darksaber to his name?? something he didn't even want?? I just think the descent into darkness would be a really fun thing to write.
Anyways, I got side tracked rambling as always, just know this. I super duper appreciated your message and I hope you have the most incredible of days and you deserve the world.
#the mandalorian#din djarin#din djarin x you#din djarin x reader#dark!din djarin#asks#feel free to ask me about anything!!
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Weird Questions for Writers! #5, 6, 7, 13, 24, 27, 28 annndd 37 ^_^
5. Do you have any writing superstitions? What are they and why are they 100% true?
The closest I can think of is I always have a glass of wine before I can post something, but thatâs more that I need to be a bit inebriated before I can bring myself to let go of a story đ
6. What is your darkest fear about writing?
My deepest darkest fear is that I am terrible at writing and anything nice thatâs ever been said about my writing is just that, being nice. I have, however, pretty successfully worked past this fear. Like 65% đ
Worst case scenario, my fear is totally true, Ive decided I would still write anyway because I want to đ€·đ»ââïž
7. What is your deepest joy about writing?
Thereâs just so many⊠exploring the headspaces of other, incredible people, creating beautiful sound combinations (I love the sound of writing), and crafting plots. I love mysteries, situations, scenarios.
13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you to write about? What is easy?
I do not like to write emotional death scenes or honestly death of any kind. I will do it if it is absolutely necessary to the story, but I take the killing of characters as seriously as killing a person in real life and Iâm never going to just do it because Iâm bored or donât know what else to do.
Easy subject matter? Sex. I love writing about sex in its million different little nuances, purposes, meanings, and emotions. I love sex as smut and sex being straightforward and NOT sexy. Itâs just great to write about all the way around đ
24. How much prep work do you put into your stories? What does this look like for you? Do you enjoy this part or do you just want to get on with it?
I love the prep of a story! Outlining is half the fun for me. Itâs like putting a puzzleâs edge pieces together. I usually do a full outline, make sure I have a beginning and end and the major points, then I flesh each point out in a first draft once, after which I go back and finalize each chapter one at a time and post them in that way so I donât lose myself to procrastination or over planning.
27. Who is the most stressful character you've ever written? Why?
Probably the most stressful character Iâve ever written is my one time foray into writing a Y/N reader insert fic. I was nervous because those are so hit or miss, trying to give the Y/N character enough features to be interesting but keep them vague enough for people to insert themselves easily. However, that story is hands down my most popular so I guess i did ok in the end đ
28. Who is the most delightful character you've ever written? Why?
Renathal for sure. I just love him so much. His headspace is so much fun, so interesting, and I felt like I just slipped seamlessly into it and never had to work hard to find it. Does this mean my spirit guide is a morally gray, immortal vampire-like Prince? Very possibly and im ok with this.
37. If you were to be remembered only by the words you've put on the page, what would future historians think of you?
Probably that I had way too much time on my hands, which wouldnât actually be true so you canât always trust history đ mostly I hope future readers of fandoms Iâve written for find my silly stories years from now and are just impressed that I sat down and finished things even though there was no audience for it at the time.
Thanks for the asks!
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HTTYD Art Wrap 2022!
tl;dr: I found my passion for drawing again and have been doing a lot of self healing by not only working on my old fan fictions but also posting them. I've fulfilled childhood dreams by doing art I wish I had done 15 years ago when I first started reading HTTYD. Life's too short, dudes, make that wolf fan fiction come true! Here's the art I did in 2022!
ALSO!
YOU GUYS HAVE BEEN SO AWESOME! Ive been in happy tears at least 3 times because y'all are so cool and nice to me. Not just nice but like, playful and funny and cool! I'm so grateful for the attention y'all have been giving my work!
LONG POST OF ART ahoy!
In June, I found my full passion for drawing again! It started off with many small doodles that I've yet to post, because I haven't scanned and colored them in! I have a giant stack of paper of just HTTYD stuff! Fan fiction, head canons, comic strips, tons of stuff!
From the bottom of my heart, thank you everyone who has been liking, reblogging and interacting with me! You've all really helped me gain confidence I didn't realize I needed when it came to posting my work! I'm having so much fun here on tumblr!
My biggest happiness has been bringing these two back together. Snotface Snotlout and Mewgull! Literally one of the first plot devices I made when I first read the books in '07 *joints crack in glee*
I got to draw them as youngin's and adults! This was a huge step for me! Just seeing them like this ALKJFLAJKWER I don't know how to describe the happiness and satisfaction I feel to actually work on their story and to actually VISUALLY SEE THEM!
(Mewgull and Snotlout becoming friends / Snotlout and Mewgull Post War [How/Why He's Alive] )
I got to draw them as youngin's and adults! This was a huge step for me! Just seeing them like this ALKJFLAJKWER I don't know how to describe the happiness and satisfaction I feel to actually work on their story and to actually VISUALLY SEE THEM! I'm certain I had art of them back in the day but I lost nearly everything in 2012! (I was also too shy to post a lot of my fan fic work...as I am today)
Honestly, Gumboil was a huge help in finding my sea legs. He's a simple design and easily adaptable to my style!
I even got an animation out of him!
youtube
It didn't start out with Gumboil though! I naturally wanted to start drawing my wolf characters first! It's what I knew how to draw and something was bothering me....MADGUTS WAS A WOLF WARRIOR AND I NEVER DREW HIM YET I HAD HIS DESIGN IN MY HEAD FOR A DECADE! There maybe a 2.0 but this def rocks my socks for now.
LOOK AT EM! LOOK AT THE BIG BOYYY
This is probably one of my favorite pictures I did. I love how it turned out! Sure the story behind the picture is kind of sad [Hint: takes place around Book 10] but it was my first real (in my heart) success at combining traditional and digital mediums! It's when I decided to give everything a "storybook" feel to it.
Anyway, I have tons of sketches and other things I could add to this post but I thought I'd keep it short n sweet, so I stuck to what I only posted on Tumblr! I've only been here since December so it ain't much.
Thanks for all y'alls support <3
#Youtube#httyd oc#httyd books#httyd#how to train your dragon#httyd fandom#httyd fanart#snotface snotlout#mewgull x snotlout#snotlout#httyd fan art#art wrap#art summary 2022#art of 2022#httyd art#httyd gumboil#gumboil#httyd nostalgia
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the entire comment is under a cut because i am on holiday and apparently in yapping mode lol
so fun fact about this piece: I was actually terrified of reading it because I knew that as soon as I read our dbf!Boba, I knew I would never want to look at a keyboard again unless I think it could even come close to the absolute perfection that you serve with Boba đ€ But we all know me and The Horny always wins especially when it comes to your Boba (that and also your fics are like watching a favourite movie on a sunday, so i gotta take my time, make my tea, get the snacks and the blankets and so on (and i wanted to save it for my holiday lol))
Boba Fett was everything you ever wanted, wrapped up in a tight black t-shirt and well-fitted jeans. You never stood a chance.
And neither did I. Sweet Jesus, the images this just conjured up in my brain are giving me very nsfw feelings and we aren't even in the nsfw passages yet.
ALSO THE FACT that he is saved as boba đ€đ§žđ§ ???? This has my entire heart. No three emojis could ever portray him as well as these three because hell yes. THE TEDDY BEAR?? MY HEART đ„șđđ«
âYou scream any louder and youâll have people come running. What would they think of a pretty young lady like you soaking an old manâs cock?â
I know this was just a tiny flashback to a taste of something more but I have to repeat myself. SWEET JESUS! This is so hot and works so well because Boba đ€ (semi-)public sex is a combination that is just exactly what the world (me) needs.
âItâs not the same and you know it! There was no falling asleep with you, no lap to curl up inâŠâ âNo thigh to get off on?â
EXCUSE ME MAAM MS ZWEI HOW DARE YOU CALL ME OUT LIKE THIS?
âA filthy little princess for a dirty old man?â
⊠somebody called?
âNow donât look at me like that, princess. Iâm just helping you make better choices,â he grins, his smile sharp with intent. âThatâs what daddies do, right?â
Indeed, that is what they do and I had a completly normal, average, subtle reaction to reading this line. No grinning, no squealing, no blushing at all. Completely normal. I am fine. Totally fine.
Also also also I want to highlight the entire following passage:
Boba presses his mouth to your temple, pulling you somehow even tighter into his warmth. âBabygirl, why on earth would you think thereâs something wrong with you?â Because Iâve only ever wanted an older man who babies me even though Iâm a grownass woman. Because I think you fucking me in my childhood bedroom while I call you Daddy is the hottest thing thatâs ever happened to me. Because Iâll never love anyone else the way I love you but Iâm still too scared to tell people about us.
This deserves not only to be written down in gold ink and framed (as does everything in this fic, lbr) but like. This just sums up how magnificent of a write you are?? We have the hotness, the spice, the teasing and the fun and it shifts so effortlessly into the deep, dark voids we all have inside us where sometimes, you are ashamed of your kink and you are scared that the person you love doesn't love you back and I am not crying, you are.
âWanted to be taken care of, wanted to be fucked without having to thinkâŠâ
Girl is a pillow princess and I have nothing but respect and admiration for her because samesies.
âYou really want that, darling girl? You really want everyone to know you belong to me?â
Boba teasing about coming inside?????????
^real time footage of me lol
Anyway 12/10 this was absolute perfection and Iâll never ever be able to not think about this đ„Č you truly blessed us đ„”
WORTH THE RISK
âPAIRING: Dad's Friend!Boba Fett x F!Reader
âSUMMARY: Pushing your luck has its rewards.
âWORD COUNT: 10.8k
âRATING: Explicit, 18+ only â MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
âTAGS & WARNINGS: second person narration, no use of y/n, explicit sexual content, alternate universe, dadâs 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 yâall Iâm not even joking, if the previous things are not your cup of tea this will not be the fic for you đ„Ž
Please let me know if I missed anything!
âAUTHOR'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 đ enjoy y'all!
Read on AO3 â Masterlist â Taglist
Setting out the last of the dessert trays on your parentsâ 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 parentsâ annual cookout, which your father fondly calls the âBar-bo-poloozaâ (and which your mother decidedly does not).Â
Scanning the crowd, you spot her bouncing their neighborâs 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 lipsânothing 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. Youâre no sooner settled when you feel your phone buzz.
<boba đ€đ§žđ§: Better give me those panties now, princess>
Your cheeks heat immediately reading Bobaâs message. You still canât 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.
<boba đ€đ§žđ§: Iâm not going to ask twice>
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.Â
Logically, you know you shouldnât be riling him up like this at a family function, but you canât seem to stop yourself after heâs been out of town. Youâve missed his bone deep comfort, his small touches, and the safety of his arms. Hell, youâve even missed the smell of him, breathing in that balmy spiciness thatâs all his own.Â
Of course, youâve 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 itâs 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, youâd 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, youâd 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 heâd do has your thighs pressing together. So, with a sly grin sneaking over your lips, you tap out a response.
<Or what? You canât do shit with all these people around, old man>
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 Bobaâs got a laser focus on you after that message.Â
Feeling supremely pleased with yourself, you chuck your phone into the seat youâre 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.
âMy, my, my, such a dirty little mouth on such a pretty little girl.â
A hot shock of electricity shoots down your spine. Bobaâs sinful voice races across your skin deceptively gentle, like a blade wrapped in dark velvet: sheathed, but no less dangerous.Â
Your pulse jumps under the thin skin of your throat. You donât need to look up to know youâre in treacherous waters. His tone alone tells you everything you need to knowâyour âgoodâ 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 youâre making pleasant conversation. âWanna find out how dirty it can get?â
The corner of his lips twitch up. âCareful, princess.â His umber eyes burn with the unspoken magnitude of his threat. âYou already owe me those pink panties of yours⊠donât make me add to that list.â
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. Youâre already playing a dangerous game with your relationshipâyou really shouldnât be adding to it by tempting fate, or Boba, in your parentsâ 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 employerâs downsizing, you had come home just after they had started spending weekends drinking and working on the old Chevy in your dadâs 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 âaccidentalâ touches and excuses to see each other more than strictly necessary for a daughter and her fatherâs 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 summerâs 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 parentsâ New Year's Eve party. Scrabbling down the stairs for the countdown, youâd crashed right into him, his arms wrapping around your waist to halt your fall. By the time the voices outside yelled âHappy New Year,â 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, youâve orgasmed harder, louder, and more often than you thought was possible for a human being. But more importantly, youâve also grown and learned a lot about yourself, with Boba coaxing you to embrace your needs without shame, both sexual and not. Mentally, youâre in a much better place than you were after you were let go from your dream job; and physically, well⊠youâve never been more satisfied.
Of course, youâre not nearly ready to reveal all this to your parents.Â
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 âKevin from Jimenez Landscapingâ 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 schemeâputting your hand down Bobaâs pants behind his truck and digging yourself into a very deep hole over textâhad 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.
âOkay, okay,â you relent, doing your best to tamp down the need leaking into your voice. âI swear Iâll take them off when Ari gets back.âÂ
You might be a brat but youâre not stupid: you know when youâve flown too close to the sun.Â
He smiles then, smug and shining, leaning down to plant what appeared to be an unoffending, fatherly kiss on the crown of your head. âThatâs more like it. Not so hard to be a good girl, now is it, darling?âÂ
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.
âHope Iâm not interrupting anything.â
Your head snaps up to see Ariâs freckled face plastered with a sardonic expression. Your confidant since childhood, your cousin is the only person who knows about your relationshipâand isnât afraid to give you shit about it. Â
âOf course not,â Boba answers breezily, patting your shoulder, âwe were just commenting on how perfect the weather turned out.â
Ari scoffs, dropping down next to you. âYeah, sure. If anyone else here actually had eyes, they would see right through the two of you.â
You grin and accept the offered lemonade. âWhat? Can a young lady and a handsome older gentleman not talk at a party?âÂ
Bobaâs hand squeezes your shoulder in a silent warning to behave. Still glowing with his praise of âgood girlâ echoing in your ears, you opt to stay so.
âLast I checked, they can,â Ari gestures back and forth between you. âItâs just the âfuck meâ eyes that make it totally obvious youâre screwing.â
âI myself prefer the term âmaking loveâ over âscrewing,ââ Boba chuckles.
Ari immediately makes retching noises, their face screwing up in disgust. âMaking love?! What are you, like a thousand years old?â They hold up a hand. âYou know what, never mind, I donât even want to think about that more than I already have to.â
Despite your cousinâs 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. âNow unless you got tea to add to this conversation, sir, Iâm 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.â
Bobaâs 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. âAri.â
âFett.â 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 heâs out of earshot, Ari whispers behind their drink. âFinally. Now, she said that she was the one who instigated the divorceâŠâ
Itâs not until you head inside to pee that you remember your promise to Boba.
<boba đ€đ§žđ§: Clockâs 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 đ> 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.Â
Bobaâs 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. âI can smell how wet you are, babygirl. Somethingâs got you all worked up, huh?â His tone is molasses, thick with self-satisfaction. âBrats do always love it when the consequences of their actions catch up to them.â
In an attempt to diffuse his pride, you pout and cross your arms over your chest. âI thought you said I was your good girl.âÂ
He flashes you that jaw-dropping smile of his. âThe two arenât mutually exclusive.âÂ
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; youâd forgotten about Kevin-from-Jimenez-Lanscaping.Â
Boba snorts. âSpeaking of consequencesâŠâ
Suddenly youâre very aware that youâre 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-pleasureâs pocket.Â
Youâre also aware that it turns you on an embarrassing amount. Fortunately (or not), you donât have much time to contemplate the extent of that particular depravity before Kevin and your mom stop in front of you.Â
âThere you are!â she exclaims happily. âKevin, this is my daughter Iâve been telling you all about.â The young man smiles and shakes your hand politely and your mom turns to the older man. âAnd this is Boba Fett, our neighbor and family friend.â She drops her voice conspiratorially. âNow heâs very protective of her, so be careful. Even worse than her father.â
Boba bares his teeth in a sharp-toothed smile, gripping the younger manâs offered hand harder than necessary for the brief shake. The act of possessiveness has your blood boiling even hotter as the poor boyâs eyes widen in surprise. After a couple minutes of tedious conversation thatâs mainly Boba glaring over your shoulder, Kevin excuses himself, thanking your mother for inviting him and apologizing for having to leave so soon.Â
Watching him dart for his car, she levels a scolding tone at your boyfriend. âHow is my daughter supposed to find someone when you stare murder at every single person I bring over?â
Unrepentant, he shrugs and smiles. Your shared secret dances on his lips. âI just want whatâs best for her. Surely you canât blame me for that.â Seeing your mother still unconvinced, he throws an arm around her shoulders and plants a kiss on her cheek.Â
He sneaks a wink at you and you make a show of rolling your eyes even as your insides warm at his attention. Morally, youâre sure itâs wrong to enjoy this deception so thoroughly, but in this moment you donât care; it lights some infernal fire inside you that burns hotter than any desire youâve ever had.
âI hate to say it, but Bobaâs right,â you play along. She still looks skeptical and he looks entirely too smug, so you elaborate. âI mean, what good is a guy thatâs too chicken to even have a conversation with this grandpa?â
She bursts into a round of laughter that wipes away the previous exasperation from her face. âOh, be nice to Boba,â she admonishes, lightly smacking your shoulder. âHeâs no older than your father.â
A grin splits your face. âGosh, youâre right, Mom! Bobaâs only what, twice my age? I should really have more respect for my elders.â 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.
âNo, maâam, donât come crying to me!â she manages through a peal of laughter. âYou earned that one fair and square!â
Boba is positively dripping with his own self-satisfaction. âSure did,â he brandishes a double-edged smile, paternally crossing his arms over his chest, âAnd I hope you learned your lesson, young lady.â
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 Bobaâs truck flash across the backs of your eyesâyou had complained you were cold after a skinny-dip in the lake and he wasted no time in warming you back up.
âCareful, princess,â he panted damply against your neck. âYou scream any louder and youâll have people come running. What would they think of a pretty young lady like you soaking an old manâs cock?â
Itâs a miracle that you donât 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.Â
âHere, take this.â Boba pulls off his overshirt and wraps it around your shoulders. âCanât have you catching a cold, now can we?â Your mom nods approvingly before sheâs pulled away by another guest. Once sheâs out of earshot, he drops his voice low. âGo inside and meet me in the garage. Iâm going around front.â
Even as you repress an excited shiver, your heart warms in your chest at Bobaâs 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 youâll 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.Â
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.Â
No sooner does the displeasure darken your expression than youâre scooped up into a pair of strong arms and whirled around.Â
Familiar lips and a suede voice swiftly gentle your startled yelp. âQuiet now, darling,â Boba purrs, practically preening with the pleasure of your surprise, âyou donât want to get us caught now do you?â
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. Itâs been so long, too long, without him, your body surviving on the mere scraps memory could provide youânothing 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.Â
A wave of relief washes away the tenseness of separation, leaving you pliable and radiant once more; the release has Bobaâs 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 freezerâs lid.Â
The chill dissipates quickly in the glow of Bobaâs urgent heat. âFuck I missed you, babygirl,â he pants against your pulse, âEven if youâve been a karking terror all afternoon.â
âSânot my fault,â you slur, dragging your teeth across the tan skin of his throat, âmissed you too much.â 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 Bobaâs 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.Â
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 bodiesâthe ephemeral calm before his stormâs consequences.Â
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.
âMmm, is that the problem?â 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. âYour needy little cunt making you act out?â
Your answer comes out more as a whoosh of air than a word, your insides twisting with the searing heat in his tone. âNooooâŠâÂ
âSo youâre just a naughty brat then?âÂ
You want to protest that youâre nothing but innocent but your throat is too tight with the thrill of his wrath. He balls the frilly underwear into his fist. âShame. I was thinking about taking mercy on you for your good behavior while I was gone.â He cuts his eyes back to you, smirking. âToo bad brats donât get that privilege.â
You jolt, panic locking your ankles at the small of his back in an attempt to keep him close. âNo! No! Thatâs not what I meant!â you cry, your voice taunt with distress.  Â
A dangerous chuckle sounds in his throat. Youâd shown your desperation, giving him the easy advantage. âBetter start explaining then, princess. Or else Iâm just gonna come all over these pink panties and youâll get nothing.â
You blink up at him with pitiful eyes and a swollen-lipped pout. âItâs because I missed you,â you simper, tracing a finger down his chest. âSeven days is a long time. Too long.âÂ
Even through the haze of your shared arousal, Boba resists temptation. âToo long? Babygirl, we talked on the phone every night.â
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. âItâs not the same and you know it! There was no falling asleep with you, no lap to curl up inâŠâ
âNo thigh to get off on?â
You squeak when he pinches your ass, the subconscious roll of your hips halting.
âAs cute and sincere as you may be, my darling girl, you still have a debt to settle for your behavior today.â
Thatâs 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. âWhat if I gave you a little apology?â you offer with a fluttering of lashes. âShow you how sorry I am?âÂ
Bobaâs breath hitches but he turns up his chin like heâs uninclined to accept your offer. âYou really think a handy is gonna cut it after everything this afternoon?âÂ
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. âNot even if that apology is you fucking me into the mattress in my childhood bedroom?âÂ
Boba curses, his hips bucking into yours.
âNot even if itâs you ruining me in the room where I learned to touch myself? Where Iâd 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?â
âPrincess-â
âIâve 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 Iâm sore. Had to take a cold shower while you were gone just to keep my hands off myself.â
In a burst of strength, he forces you flat back against the freezer. âEnough,â he hisses through locked teeth. âFor Makerâs sake, enough.â
Despite his protests, heâs rutting his twitching cock into the slick mess at your apex. You grin into his kissâyouâve got him right where you want him.Â
âAwww, pleeeease?â you whine, sticking your bottom lip out. âPretty please⊠Daddy?â
The sound that scrapes up from him is so utterly depraved that for a second, you think he mightâve come in his pants.
âFuck, youâre⊠youâreâŠâ
âA filthy little princess for a dirty old man?â
Boba pushes his hand over your mouth. âYou⊠you have ten seconds to get in your room before Iâm fucking you where you stand. And I donât give a karking shit who sees. Do you understand me?â
âSo, apology accepted?â
âOne.â
âIs that a yes?â
âTwo.â
âOkay, okay! Iâm going!â
âThree.â
Youâre 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 youâre completely on display.Â
At this point, you donât 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 itâll be when Boba gets his hands on you has you bucking under your fingers.
âJust canât help yourself, can you, little brat?â
Itâs no use snatching back your handâheâs 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.Â
âOh, babygirl,â he husks in a low, cruel voice. âYouâre so fucked.â
Heâs 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. âBut thatâs what you like isnât it? You like it when I put you in your place, when I treat you rough.â His large hand snakes up your chest to grab your throat. Â
âYes-yes, Daddy!â you gasp, writhing with prickling pleasure when he greedily palms your breast.Â
He grunts, his hips thrusting into you. âYou think calling me that will get you out of trouble?â
âI mean being in my old room⊠seems kinda fitting, doesnât it-oh!â
Boba shoves his hand over your mouth. âNow donât look at me like that, princess. Iâm just helping you make better choices,â he grins, his smile sharp with intent. âThatâs what daddies do, right?â
Fuck that should not make your clit throb like it does. Just when your knees start to tremble from the sweet friction heâs 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.
âDonât bother with the kitten eyes, darling. It wonât save you⊠and neither will anything else you say.â He rubs his thumb gently over your pulse point, a jarring contrast to the pressure on your throat. âAfter your little attitude this afternoon, youâre going to have to earn the right to speak.â
Boba just tuts when you pout, a wicked flush of darkness shadowing his expression. âBrats donât get what they want, especially not such disrespectful ones.â Licking his lips, his voice sinks even deeper. âStill think I canât do shit with all these people around?â
When you donât 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 youâre fighting for air. âLittle princess, I can do whatever I want to you no matter whoâs around, do you understand that? Do you?âÂ
Your answer is nothing more than a pitiful waver but he takes it all the same. âGood. Now take the dress off before I tear it off. Iâm gonna fuck that pretty throat until Iâm satisfied youâve learned some respect.â
Youâre 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. âLooks like you need some warming upâŠâÂ
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.Â
It feels almost like relief. This was the reason you tested Bobaâs 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. âLook at me, babygirl,â he prompts gently. When your eyes drift up to his, a smile warms his face. âI know you like it rough and Iâm 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.â
As youâd 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. âBoba?â
âYes, baby?â
âCan you grab a towel for me to lay on? Iâm going to soak a spot on the sheets if you keep talking like that.âÂ
A devilâs grin stretches across his bronze features. âStay right there and donât move,â he instructs, his voice already husked smoke, âor I will make you only watch while I jack off with those panties.âÂ
If heâd waited a second before darting to the adjoining bathroom, he wouldâve 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.Â
He steps back so youâre 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. âHope you donât think Iâm going easy on you just because you finally decided to behave.â
You shake your head.Â
âNo talking and no hands, understood?âÂ
Now you shake your up and down. You know far better of him than to disobey.
âGood. Now we donât have much time before someone comes looking for you, little princess, so open up that mouth and make Daddy proud.â
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 youâre sure there are next to none who could possibly deserve it.Â
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. Heâs 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 frustrationâhe always notices everythingâand chooses to ignore it. Itâs a lenient punishment in light of your behavior but it doesnât 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 itâs almost silent, but he hears it all the same. âMmm, is there a problem, darling? Something the matter?â The slow drag of him doesnât stop.Â
You flick your tongue over his frenulum in a wordless response. Although you canât see him, you know his pretty brown eyes flutter shut at the sensation.
âAaah hah hah,â he chuckles through a groan, âis this not enough for my princess? Is getting her tongue used while sheâs naked on her pretty pink bed not enough for her?â
Again, since he hasnât 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 doesnât stop you, you let your tongue snake up to lick the pearled drop from his slit.Â
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.Â
âSwallow.â
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.Â
âFffff- thatâs it, babygirl. Juuuust like that⊠let me feel how good you take me.âÂ
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.Â
The next seconds dissolve into a filmy timelessness where every single one of your senses are hisâyour 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 Bobaâs grunts of pleasure as he pumps his cock down your throat. Sweat slicks your skin and hungry breath claws at your lungs but theyâre 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, thereâs nowhere else youâd rather be.
After some wonderful, unknown period of time, air hisses through Bobaâs 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. âBaby⊠my darling girl,â he pants through seeded kisses, âyou did so good for me, took it all⊠can you believe it? Almost couldnât stop myself from coming down that perfect throat.â
Youâre 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. âI⊠I did?â
Before now, youâd never managed to get the last thick inch of his cock down your throatâthough not for the lack of trying. As oxygen flushes through your system, your head clears. âSee,â you croak, buoyed by your success, âdoing it in my old bedroom was a good idea.âÂ
Genuine mirth crinkle up his eyes. âYou havenât seen anything yet, princess.â Boba turns and scoops you into arms, pressing you close to take in your scent. âI still gotta make you scream into the sheets, remember?â he murmurs against your temple.
You happily slide against him, relishing the way he fits perfectly against you. âPretty sure I said âscreamed into my pillow.ââ
He snorts, caressing his hand along your jaw. âHow about I make you do both?â
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.
âTell meâŠâ he rasps through his mouthâs divine suction, âtell me how you would touch yourself.â
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; heâd wiped more tears than youâd let anyone else ever see and youâd 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.Â
âI, um⊠I meanâŠâ Why was this so embarrassing? Itâs not like he didnât know you were into the more seasoned male age range. Sucking in a steadying breath, you realize heâs 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. âSheesh, you know how to get a girl to blush, donât you?â Your words are too high and paper thinâyour façade not remotely convincing, not even to yourself.
Bobaâs 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. âWe can talk about this now, or we can talk about it later,â is all he says. Itâs 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 wonât have time for the down and dirty youâve 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.Â
Maker, youâre a buzzkill.Â
Boba slaps a smack against your hip and you yip at the sharp sensation. âNo apologizing,â he warns. âJust answer the question, princess. Donât worry about anything else.â 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 wouldnât make you cry, youâd 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 someoneâs sleepover. Everyone else did.Â
You only made the mistake of saying the schoolâs head coach was hot onceâthe grossed out looks and âold enough to be our dadâ 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 wasnât true, the pressure was off then.
When you went to college, things didnât change, no matter how much you hoped they would. You thought maybe it was just the boys at your school you werenât attracted to, that maybe you were normal after all.Â
Tears lodge in your throat at the memory of the guys youâd fucked trying to fix what was surely broken inside you, the nights you spent wishing it wasnât 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 didnât want to go back to their place immediately, followed by cutting comments about âdaddy issuesâ 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 werenât 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 canât 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 isnât afraid to tell the world they love him and proudly walks at his sideânot some scared girl who canât 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.Â
Before the first sob can sound from your chest, youâre pressed tightly into Bobaâs front, held fast by thick, warm arms that stall your rising grief. A watery stream of words tumble out of you all at once. âBack then, it was-I thought-and I couldnât, I mean I tried-â
âShhh, baby, just breathe. Itâs okay, everythingâs alright⊠yeah, just like that, princess, thatâs my good girl.â
His gentle touch and storm soothed voice has your sobs ebbing under his care. âI-is there something wrong with me?â you whisper in a fragile voice.Â
Boba presses his mouth to your temple, pulling you somehow even tighter into his warmth. âBabygirl, why on earth would you think thereâs something wrong with you?â
Because Iâve only ever wanted an older man who babies me even though Iâm a grownass woman.Â
Because I think you fucking me in my childhood bedroom while I call you Daddy is the hottest thing thatâs ever happened to me.Â
Because Iâll never love anyone else the way I love you but Iâm still too scared to tell people about us.
Youâre vaguely aware of being pulled under covers and tucked in tight to his side. Despite the furnace warmth of him and the blanket, you canât 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 Ariâs got your absence covered.
Tracing his roughened fingertips up and down your spine, he tilts up your chin to kiss your forehead. âDarling girl, why did you never say anything? Thatâs all too heavy to have to deal with by yourself. Especially when Iâm here to help.â
Why did you? Youâd shared so much of your other burdensâyour disillusion after losing your dream job, your struggle coping with your life not following your set mental timelineâwhy had you kept all this to yourself?
âI donât knowâŠâ you whisper, letting your pointer finger trace along the collarbone of his newly revealed chest. âI guess I felt like⊠like even though what I like isnât 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.â Hearing these half-baked assumptions out loud makes you hide your face in his shoulder. You feel like an idiot. No, worse. An idiot whoâs wasted all her sneak-away time crying instead of getting railed by her boyfriend.
Boba makes a sympathetic sound, squeezing you closer to him. âI 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 youâre hoarse, thatâs fine as long as you tell me. Understood?â
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.
âNumber two. Thereâs 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?â He kisses you on the tip of your nose and you canât help but smile up at him. âBesides, you wouldnât find anything wrong with me being attracted to special princesses who have dirty little mouths and dirtier minds, would you?âÂ
Heat rises to your cheeks. âAs long as Iâm the special princess,â 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.
âAlways.â 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, âStill needy, darling?â
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. âWe donât⊠if the mood isnât right, we donât have to⊠and weâve been gone for too long already-â
Boba drags his hot mouth over your jaw, positioning you beneath him. âThen a couple more minutes isnât going to change that, now is it, babygirl?â
You frown even as your hips seek his. âBut the whole âsexy fantasyâ thing is kinda ruined.â
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. âDoes it feel ruined to you?â
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.Â
âTell me,â he commands, knowing his firm tone always had you melting like silvery mercury in his palm. âDoes it feel like I donât want to be buried in your sweet cunt? Ruining your âinnocenceâ all over again like you want me to so badly?â
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. âN-no, it feels like-fuck-it feels like I want you inside me,â 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. âHow did you imagine it back then?â The crackling weight in his voice sinks through your skin to light in your core. âSoft and sweet? Gentle nothings whispered in your ear as you came apart?âÂ
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. âOr did you want something a little rougher? Want a man who knew how to treat this pussy like it was all his?â
You canât help it now. The fire he coached is burning you from the inside out, blossoming from you with slips of petaled flame. âA-all yours,â you manage thickly, twisting against him for more. âWanted to be taken care of, wanted to be fucked without having to thinkâŠâ
âYeah, I know, baby, they didnât know how to touch you, did they?â 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. âThey didnât know how to rub that cute little clit so you screamed, huh?â
âNot at all,â you sob, your voice quivering as you shake from the electric sensation of his fingers. âNever knew, never knew-â
Boba smothers the rest of your pathetic sounds in a kiss that pushes deep into your pillows. âAwww, my poor princess,â he croons. âSo 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.â
Never mind that he had been equally out of his mind, pounding into you that night like a man possessed with adoration.Â
He notches a finger at your fluttering opening, ringing it around your flushed entrance just to see you squirm to get him deeper. âRemember how you begged me to fuck you, princess? How you didnât even want to wait for me to stretch out your tight cunt?â Sinking in an effortless finger, he dips to lap up the beads of sweat from the hollow of your throat.
By the time heâs pressing in the blunt head of his cock, youâre face down and ass up, shimmying your hips back onto his length through a babble of pleas. âPlease, Boba, please I want it deep, so fuckinâ deep I cry.â
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 didnât even know existed before him.
The air whooshes from both your lungs in a blurred haze of ecstasy. âShit, baby,â Boba squeezes your nape, âIâll always give it to you⊠always, darling girl. Anything you want, Iâm always yours, forever.â
You know it with every breath in your body and hair on your headâBoba 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.Â
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. âYes-yes-yes!â 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 itâs 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 didnât need repair, that one New Yearâs night when you stopped denying what you truly wantedâall 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. âFfffffff-thatâs it, thatâs fuckinâ it,â he hisses through clenched teeth. âYouâre better than heaven, babygirl, you know that? Sweeter than anything Iâve ever had.â
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. âYes, Daddy, yes!â
âShit, you calling me⊠say it again. Say it again and donât fucking stop.â
Youâre 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. âIs it as good as you imagined?â he husks, his own voice leaden with delicious strain. âGetting fucked into the mattress you dreamed on?â Â
Each snap of his hips sends your clit skating over his calloused fingertips. âBetter, so much better!â Crushing your eyes closed, you surrender to the scorching wave waiting to take you. âPlease, Daddy! Please fill me up so everyone knows Iâm yours!â
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. âYou really want that, darling girl? You really want everyone to know you belong to me?â
Your answer doesnât waver, solidified by your new-found conviction. âAs long as they know youâre mine, too.âÂ
Muscles rippling to lock at your affirmation, Bobaâs 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. âC-come for me then,â he chuffs in your ear with his last dregs of restraint. âCome for me so they know what you fucking do to me.â
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; Bobaâs guard comes down and you rise to catch him, your usual roles reversing as he burrows into your warmth. âAlways, baby. Always yours,â 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 youâre 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.Â
Youâre 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 manâs mold?Â
A resplendent joy feathers out in your chest, floating down your arms, then your legs with soft announcement. âBoba?â
His finger traces up your spine. âYes, my princess?â His voice is dense as goose down and packed with comfort.Â
You swirl your own shape into his skin. âI meant it, you know. I want⊠I want everyone to know weâre together. I donât want it to be a secret anymore.â
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.Â
Eventually, a rumble reverberates in his chest. Your ears prick up.
âYou donât have to do that, babygirl, not before youâre ready. Just because it slipped out in the heat of the moment doesnât mean it has to be set in stone.â Boba shifts to wrap his arms around your waist, holding you impossibly closer. âI know there are more risks for you than me in our relationship.â
You hate the far off note of despair in his voice. You hate the way he sounds like heâs resigned himself to a truth that isnât at all what it has to be. âNo,â you sit up on your elbow to cup his cheek, âthereâs not. Not in any way that matters to me. Youâre-â
âPrincess, itâs okay, I-â
You silence him with a kiss, suddenly feeling like you have to get the next words out of your body before they explode. âYouâre worth the risk, Boba. You always will be. Every single day since I met you, you have done nothing but prove that to me.â Your pace picks up as your truth spreads its wings. âI was afraid before, not of being with you but of what others would think about my preferences. I didnât want them to judge me and think I was only with you because I have âdaddy issuesâ 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 whatâs best for me, and youâre whatâs best for me. I know this nowâand Iâm not ashamed of it.â
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 Bobaâs 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 doesnât 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. âBabygirl, I⊠Iâm so proud of you. You never cease to amaze me.â He sweeps his lips over yours again. âI love you. Always have, always will.â
Besides his love, Bobaâs greatest gift is his forthrightness. You never have to guess with him and now, no one else will have to either. Theyâll know where his loyalties lay.Â
âThatâs a good thing,â you tease into a quick kiss. âBecause all my aunties, and uncle Stephen, are going to be very jealous that youâre off the market.â
Boba chuckles in that bone-deep way that always makes you warm all over. âI didnât realize I was in such high demand.â
You push yourself up on his chest. âOh, donât lie to me, Boba Fett. Iâve seen the way you flirt and wink at them. They eat it up and you know it!âÂ
Sitting up with you, he grins. âJust being polite, princess. Youâre not jealous, are you?â
Maker, how could you ever be jealous of anyone after the sex youâd just had?
âOh, not at all. Because at the end of the night, youâre coming home with me.â You smirk up at him. âSpeaking of which, we better get back out there before those same aunties start tearing the house up looking for you.â
âOnly if you promise not to clean up and put these panties back on for me, darling girl,â he counters with a devilish smirk of his own.
Giggling, you bite your lip. âAnything for you, Daddy.â
Heâs worth the risk. Â
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Bet On It
HELLO iâm back again with not only another fic but another friends to lovers!!! hereâs 5.9k on hotel mishaps, long-term bets, and falling in love. featuring harry styles x reader with just a few warnings of explicit language and alcohol consumption.
enjoy!!!
masterlist | ask
***
Five Years Ago
If you hadnât met him an hour before in the bar of the hotel, you wouldâve said no. Share a hotel room with a stranger just because the hotel fucked up and double booked a room? No. Absolutely not.
Except -
His name was Harry. He was very cute. And sweet. He complimented your shoes in the bar, dimpling at you all cutely before holding out his hand and introducing himself. He let you prattle on for way too long, laughing at all your jokes and nodding gravely when you started getting serious.
And surprisingly, when you said you had to go, he didnât ask you out or try to kiss you. He just told you it was nice to meet you with a smile. Problem was that that wasnât the last you saw of him; when you went up to the desk to get your key card, the receptionist informed you of the mistake.
âWeâve double booked it. Youâll have to work it out amongst yourselves,â they said. âWe can suggest other places to stay, or you can sleep in the lobby. Or - of course, you can always share. Heâs over there. Guy in the pink shirt.â
You looked over, and lo and beholdâŠ
âHarry.â
âWe meet again.â
âWas this your doing?â you joked. âAll that to get me in a room with you?â
Harry grinned. âI wish I were that smart.â
âSo just coincidence?â
âOr perhaps fate,â Harry replied with a shrug.
âDid you know?â you asked. âWhen you, uh - introduced yourself?â
He shook his head and said, âNot that it was you.â
âWell, now that you do, what do you say? Share the room?â
Harry tilted his head from side to side, pondering. âLetâs prove it was fate,â he decided, meeting your gaze with a grin. Your brows furrowed, and he clarified. âRock, paper, scissors. I win, weâll share. You win, Iâll find somewhere else to stay.â He held out his fist.
âWonât make me find somewhere else?â you asked, smiling a bit. âWould rather share?â
He shrugged.
âAlright, then.â
Both of you counted silently, in your heads -
Rock, paper, scissorsâŠ
Harry grinned, and you made a fist from your scissors to bump his rock.
âFate it is,â you said.
Fate proved to be in your favor; that night, you had the most fun youâd ever had in your life. To your surprise, however, the fun didnât involve sex. Just talking. You sat on the bed drinking booze from the minifridge and talking until dawn with this Harry Styles.
It came up at one point, sex - or at least kissing did - but neither ever happened.
It was around three, when the exhaustion had set in, when you were lying down, gazing into each otherâs eyes, half asleep. âWhy havenât you kissed me yet?â heâd whispered, and you grinned at him. âI should be asking you that, donât you think?â
He looked confused. âWhyâs that?â
âYouâre the one in love with me,â you told him.
He giggled, rubbing his eyes. âAnd what makes you say that?â
âYou wanted to share!â you exclaimed, like it was obvious, because it was.
âSharing is caring.â
You bounced your brows. âCaring. Loving.â
Harry laughed and insisted, âNot the same!â
âIâd bet a million bucks youâre in love with me,â you murmured, tapping his nose.
âThen a million bucks youâd lose.â
âYou will be,â you said, nodding slightly.
âYeah?â Harry asked, a smile growing on his lips.
âYeah.â
âDo you have a million bucks to give me on my deathbed when I still only care?â he said.
âDo you have a million bucks to give me when you confess?â you said back.
He stared at you for a second. His eyes were very green, his smile very wistful. âA kiss.â
âA kiss?â you echoed.
Harry nodded. âI will bet you one kiss that I will never fall in love with you.â
âYouâre gonna want a lot more than one kiss when you inevitably do,â you whispered.
âAt least one kiss,â he amended.
âAt least one kiss,â you agreed.
âShake on it?â
You both shifted around in the bed so you could shake hands without sitting up.
âItâs a bet,â Harry said.
And so it was.
***
Present Day
âGive it to me straight, Styles,â you greet Harry, plopping down at your table with a sigh.
He hesitates for a moment, drawing out the suspense, and then breathes, âCare.â
You shake your head disappointedly. âUnbelievable, how bad you are at lying, you -â
Harry interrupts, âWhatâs really unbelievable is your tardiness -â
Then you do: âYour annoyingness -â
He pouts and fires back, âYour vocabulary -â
âYour lack thereof -â
âThatâs not proper English.â
You stick your tongue out at him. âYouâre not proper English.â
âI promise you I am,â he replies with a smirk.
âIâve always thought the accent was fake.â
âIf it were, Iâd be the greatest impersonator to walk the earth.â
âImpersonator?â you repeat. âAnd tell me, what is an impersonator but a talented liar?â
He gives you a grin. âIâll take the compliment of talented, thank you.â
Leveling his gaze, you smile back and take a sip of your drink. âYou know, I think that actually was proper English,â you muse. âLack thereof. Your vocabulary - or lack thereof.â Harry bites his lip, eyes narrowed, staring at you, and youâre tempted to joke that his focus is lust when he replies, âItâs still wrong. I was saying your vocabulary is naive, and by saying I have none, youâre fundamentally saying the same. Itâs redundant.â
Clearly satisfied with himself, he sits back, smiles smugly, and takes a sip of his coffee.
âHarry Styles,â you say, âIâm going to smack that smirk right off your pretty face.â
âSecond compliment in a day!â Harry exclaims. âSomeone alert the press.â
You roll your eyes, taking a sip of your own drink. âWhy, theyâd have a field day.â
The little cafe youâre in is absolutely adorable. Itâs midway between your place and Harryâs, and after that fateful night in the hotel (during which you learned you live so close to each other), you began a tradition of meeting here once a week.
Tradition doesnât end with just the location and time. Each meeting is almost exactly the same. Youâre always late, and you always greet him the same way: some variation of âHave you fallen in love with me yet?â
And his reply is always the same: negative.
From there, the conversation wanders as much as it ever does, with one asking about the otherâs week and the response being long and filled with complaints and woes and lamentations. The question is echoed back, and the response is - again - long, filled with complaints, woes, etc.
Despite the moaning and groaning, the mood never falls too low. Itâs impossible to feel down around Harry Styles; just one look at those dimples makes a smile of your own appear on your face.
Your friendship with him has certainly blossomed. Itâs a wonder he hasnât fallen in love yet (or maybe he has, youâll never know unless he says), and a greater wonder still that he hasnât turned the question around on you.
Because the answer would be yes. You have, in fact, fallen in love with him.
Deeply, madly, in love.
But heâll never know, because youâll never say.
***
âI love you,â you tell Harry breathlessly, looking up at him lovingly. âMost ardently.â
Harry shakes his head. âNo, no - Iâm just a girl! Iâm just a girl, standing in front of -â
âIâll always be there for you!â you cut in excitedly. âAll the love in my heart, Llo -â
âMichael, I love you!â Harry gushes. âChoose me, marry me, let me make you happy!â
You jump up and jut a finger at him dramatically. âWe live in a cynical world!â you exclaim. âA cynical world, and we work in a business of tough competitors. I love you! You - you complete me!â
Harry jumps up to match you and begins, âI hate that -â then shakes his head and restarts, âI hate the way youâre always right, I hate it when you lie - I hate it when you make me laugh and - and - and even worse when you make me cry - I hate the way - I hate it whenâ - heâs grinning big now, jumping with excitement and passion - âyouâre not around and the fact you didnât call - but - but mostly I hate the way I donât hate you, not even a little bit, not even at all!â
It all came out in a rush of jumbled words and youâre so impressed you canât help but sit back down and clap for him. Bright red, Harry takes a bow and collapses onto his couch next to you. âThat took way too much effort,â he says, out of breath.
âIt was worth it,â you tell him. âThat was dazzling, really. You should go on the road.â
Harry nods. âOne man show. Shakespeare. All of his long monologues, then bam - a poem better than all the others combined.â You giggle and fall into him, leaning against his chest with a sigh. âIâll come with you,â you say. âFollow you to the ends of the earth and hold my breath to Pluto.â
âWhatâs that from?â Harry asks.
âThatâs all me, baby.â
âMaybe the poem better than all the others combined could be yours.â
âImpossible,â you say immediately. âNothing will ever beat Kat Stratford.â
âIâll manage.â
You scoff. âYou?â
âWe.â
You shake your head. âThereâs no âweâ in genius, Styles, but there is an I.â
âAnd a U!â Harry replies.
You look up at him.
âWait.â
Snickering, you sit up and stretch your arms towards the ceiling. âStick to memorization, maybe. Leave the heavy lifting to me. You need some practice on that speech, anyway - I counted at least three errors, not to mention the stuttering.â
âPractice makes perfect,â Harry sings. âWhat do you say, can I confess my love to you every night for the sake of practice?â You shake your head, standing up again and grabbing an empty container of food to throw away. âNot without losing the bet.â
Harry follows you, cleaning up as he goes. âJust for the one man show!â
âNo exceptions.â You grin at him, grabbing your stuff and heading for the door. âThanks for the food, Styles. Iâll see you Sunday?â Harry nods and blows you a kiss, which you catch and put in your pocket. âIâll save that for when you lose the bet,â you tell him.
âGet outta here,â Harry laughs.
You stick your tongue out at him and stick a post it note on the door frame as you leave.
***
Harry usually wakes up to a few texts. Maybe a call every so often. Notifications from social media arenât uncommon. The only days he wakes up to nearly a hundred texts are the nights you decide to go to the outlook.
Whether or not you like staying up late normally, you stay up until the wee hours of the morning to go to this place you found about three hours outside of the city. Itâs a bit of a drive, but itâs completely worth it.
Thereâs a little woods out there, and a while ago you went a bit off path and found an outcropping of rocks that look out over the city. At night, stars are visible. Thereâs nothing you love more than lying for hours on the cool stone, gazing up at the heavens above.
The first time you took Harry to the outlook, you asked a question, and Harryâs answer to that question was one of the only lies heâs ever told you. Youâd asked, âYouâre not afraid of heights, are you?â
And Harry had said, âOf course not!â when in reality, heâd been looking for an opening to mention that very fear for the twenty minutes before, while youâd been climbing steadily uphill through the trees.
In his defense, there was no way he couldâve said anything different. You were just so happy, glowing with excitement and practically buzzing with energy. Plus, youâd grabbed his hand at the moment you asked to pull him up the last ridge and he was still a bit startled.
He never came to regret that lie. He grew out of the fear, anyway, so it wasnât a huge deal. In fact, heâs almost come to love heights. He loves the thrill, the burst of happiness, the insane phenomenon of a racing heart and the feeling of being totally at peace all at the same time.
Incidentally, he also feels that way around you, whether the two of you are a hundred feet up or not. Heâs always enjoyed spending time with you, and even just seeing you makes him happy. Itâs what makes you a good friend.
Harryâs gone with you a few times to the outlook, but itâs usually pretty late by the time you want to go. Sometimes youâll call him and heâll pick up, and youâll talk on the phone until one of you falls asleep.
You went last night, apparently, because Harry scrolls through seventy-two text messages this morning. It takes a while, since he reads all of them and then replies, but he woke up early anyway so itâs fine.
Itâs Sunday, so heâs headed to the cafe to meet you. He has a cup of coffee even though heâll get one at the cafe, too. Thereâs a sticky note on the coffee maker - Note to self: tell Harry thereâs a snickers bar in his sweatshirt pocket - which you probably left a few days ago.
Harry smiles at the note, then frowns, sticking his hand in his pocket. There is, in fact, a Snickers bar in there, and Harry throws it out. Itâs from almost a month ago, when you and him had an August Halloween. The sun is just a little too bright. Harry listens to music in the car, humming along and tapping his hands against the wheel in time.
Youâre late, of course, so he orders his second cup of coffee and reads a newspaper on the shelf while he waits. Today itâs five minutes until you arrive, which is actually more on time than usual, and Harry throws you a large brimmed hat he found in his closet when you approach the table.
âWhat say you, Harry Styles,â you greet him, catching the hat and placing it on your head. âMake a jester laughâ - you form a heart with your fingers - âor make a jester cry?â Your heart cracks in two as you pout at him.
Breaking a finger-heart of his own, Harry grins. âLaughing clowns were always creepier to me,â he tells you. You trace a finger down your cheek like a tear and sit down across from him, sliding a menu from its place on the wall and beginning to read it over.
You look up at him, half smiling, a joke on your lips, and then -
Harry blinks.
Just like that, somethingâs changed.
You snap in front of his face. âHello? Anything? You could at least pretend to laugh.â
âChrist, sorry,â Harry breathes. âWhatâd you say?â
Raising a brow, you lean forward and inspect him. âYou alright, there, Styles?â
âIf I were any better and itâd be obscene,â Harry answers easily, tapping your nose.
Grinning, you sit back. âFantastic. Tell me, then, how itâs been. Fill me in.â
âItâs a lot better seeing you in that hat.â
âOh, I forgot!â you exclaim, looking up at it.
Harry giggles and asks, âYou wanna know what one hat said to the other?â
âOh, boy.â
âIâll see you on a-head!â
Groaning dramatically, you throw the hat at him and bury your face in your hands.
***
"This is getting embarrassing, Styles,â you say as you walk up to Harry.
He turns around, a smile already on his face, and begins, âWhatâs -â
He stops when he sees you, because youâre all dressed up. You look absolutely stunning, which was on purpose, because of course you want to see his reaction, whether he loves you or not. And itâs very satisfactory, this reaction.
âYou look fantastic,â Harry says softly.
You clear your throat, a little put off by how serious heâs being. âThat was the goal.â
His eyes float back up to meet yours, a small smile on his face. âThank you for coming.â
âYouâre welcome,â you chirp. âBut donât let your head get too big - I only came for the free food and movie.â Finally, the glaze over his eyes fades, and he grins at you. He takes your arm, and as you walk, he asks, âYou started a thought, you know, about something embarrass-â
You scoff. âYou asked me on a date, Styles!â
âI did not!â Harry insists. He shakes his head. âMy date ducked out at the last second -â
Smirking, you cut in, âWonder why, Mr. Pink Suit.â
â- we were going to match, thank you - but really, she ducked out, and I wasnât about to waste two perfectly good tickets. Thus⊠here we are.â He nods, like heâs pleased with his answer, but you raise a brow at him. âThatâs a terrible excuse. You can just say you love me. Iâll accept.â
You arrive at his car. âNot yet,â he says, and then he gets in.
He starts the car, and for a moment, you gaze out the window.
Then, breaking the silence, you say, âI like the suit.â
âI like the look.â
âThanks, I came up with it all by myself.â
âImpressive.â
You wait a moment, and then ask, âWhat inspired the pink?â
âShe said she wanted a pink rose.â
Frowning, you begin, âI thought you said pink roses are -â
âYeah, theyâre not my favorite,â he mumbles.
You snicker a little. âOh, what a bad date in high school can get youâŠâ
âHey, donât tease,â Harry whines with a pout.
âSorry, sorry,â you murmur. âYouâre nice to dress up anyway. No rose, though?â
Sheepishly, he tells you, âI⊠forgot.â
âYou forgot?â you laugh.
âYeahâŠâ
âWell, um⊠well, itâs the thought that counts.â
Harry pulls into the parking lot and parks the car, then unlocks the doors. âCome on,â he says, but you frown at him, confused. âYou know you pulled in the wrong way?â you ask, but he just beckons with his hand and opens the trunk.
You hadnât even looked - thereâs pillows back there, and candy, and blankets, and he flicks on little fairy lights. âHarry Styles, you romantic!â you gasp, enthralled. âWow, I gotta meet this girl, if youâre doing all this for herâŠâ
He sits down and pats the space next to him, then grabs a pack of candy - your favorite. He hands it to you, which you take with a slow smile. âHer favorite too?â you ask. âNope,â Harry replies, shaking his head as he opens his own pack of candy. âForgot to ask her, but when I called her in the store she wouldnât pick up so I just⊠got yours.â He clears his throat and hands you a bag of popcorn. âThereâs this, too.â
âThanks, Styles.â
On the huge screen in front of you, the movie begins to roll. You take a risk, sliding a little on the seat so youâre leaning against Harry, head against his chest. You can feel him breathing, his heart beating, his arm around your waist, thumb gently moving back and forth over the fabric of your clothes.
You fall asleep for most of the movie.
When you wake up, youâre leaned against a pillow, not Harry. Frowning and out of sorts, you sit up and rub your eyes. Heâs leaned against the car outside, on the phone, and you can just barely make out what heâs saying.
â... I know, itâs⊠Yeah, I - Iâm sorry you couldnât make it, love. I missed youâŠâ
The familiar feeling of tears building behind your eyes horrifies you, and you have to turn your back to him as tears start slipping down your cheeks. Youâd somehow managed to convince yourself that it was all a ruse, that heâd meant it to be you from the start, that there was no other girl, that all along it was -
âHey,â Harry says.
You cough, palming away the tears on your face and yawning like youâd just woken up. âOh, hey⊠Howâs, um - howâs she doing? Or - whoever - I mean -â You squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head. âSorry,â you whisper.
âSheâs fine,â Harry tells you. âHow are you? Took a pretty long nap thereâŠâ
âYeah,â you murmur. âI was⊠Iâm tired.â
âCâmon, then, letâs get you home.â He smiles at you, dimpling adorably, and holds out his hand. You take it and slide off the back of his car. âThanks,â you say. He nods and shuts the trunk while you get into the passenger seat.
You donât say anything as he starts the car, as he backs out and heads for your place. He glances over at you, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, and eventually turns on the radio. You fold up a sticky note and covertly slide it into the center console.
âIâll see you Sunday,â you tell him when he stops the car.
He nods. âSee you then.â
You hold his gaze for a second, and then get out of the car. As youâre shutting the door, Harry says, âHey!â and you stop. âHey, er - thank you. For coming tonight. I know it was a little⊠It was a bit much.â
âNot too much at all,â you say softly. âBye, Harry.â
You shut the door.
***
The sticky note business began about a year after Harry met you. Heâd mentioned something about refrigerator magnets being the most charming form of communication ever invented, and the next day he found a sticky note on his mirror that said, Note to self: find a more charming form of communication than refrigerator magnets.
Harry doesnât find the sticky note in his console until the next night, when heâs driving home after working late and heâs trying to find his phone. Itâs ringing, and itâs your ringtone, which is really, really annoying because you set it to the worst song you could think of so heâd be motivated to pick it up fast.
Itâs not in the center console. Itâs actually in his pocket. He picks it up.
âHarry, you gotta tell me now,â you say immediately. âDo you love me?â
âI -â
âLove or care, Styles.â You sound breathless. âL or C. Lover or Cunt. Tell me now.â
âCunt,â Harry says reflexively, and then shakes his head. âI mean -â
âYou donât love me.â You donât sound upset at all. Youâre just clarifying.
Harry frowns. âI⊠Whatâs going on?â
âWell, I think I love this guy, Styles, and Iâm about to fuck him, so Iâll talk to you later.â
And then you hang up.
Harry stares at his phone for a moment. Then he puts it down, frowning at the street in front of him, and thinks for a while until he gets home. When he does, heâs shutting the center console, which heâd left open, and he sees the little post it note.
Note to self: buy a pink rose for h to make him like them bc theyâre pretty
Sitting in his car, staring at the note, Harry canât help but think heâs messed it all up.
***
Sunday. You donât show up.
***
Another Sunday. Harry orders a coffee and reads the newspaper.
You donât show up.
***
You answer a text.
He asks if youâre okay, and you say, Yup!
***
You send a text.
Hey, Styles? Can you bring me a flower?
***
He shouldâve gone to your place first, Harryâs thinking. He shouldâve checked there, and then gone here. But itâs too late now. Heâs stepping out of his car, trekking through the forest, and heâs finally here, and -
Youâre on your back, staring at the stars.
âYou know, I really thought he was the one.â
Harry bites on his lip and fiddles with the flower in his hands. âDid you?â
Thereâs a beat of silence. Then you sigh and sit up. âNo.â
âHe didnât - youâre not⊠Youâre okay, right?â
âNothingâs broken but my heart,â you murmur. âPhysically, Iâm fine, emotionally, IâmâŠâ
You fade off, and Harry sits next to you and hands you the flower.
âYellow,â you whisper. You look up at him, eyes wide in the moonlight. âWhy yellow?â
âColor of your shirt the first time I met you.â
Smiling, you murmur, âMemory of an elephant.â
âI couldnât remember her favorite candy,â Harry says impulsively. He shuts his eyes, exhaling softly. âSorry. Wrong thing to say.â You shake your head, looking forward again. âItâs fine. Howâs she doing?â
âWouldnât know.â
Surprised, you glance at him again. âYou mean you -?â
Harry shrugs. âShe said my priorities werenât right. Then she said goodbye.â
âWeâre just a coupla broken hearted fools, arenât we?â you say quietly.
âBroken hearted, yes,â Harry replies, âbut Iâm not a fool. Donât know about you.â
You scoff, hitting his chest with the back of your hand. âWeâre having a moment here!â
âSorry, sorry,â Harry says, but heâs laughing so the apology is moot.
Thereâs a beat of silence, and then you say, âI wouldâve known about her if I hadnât missed all our Sundays. Iâm sorry.â Harry shakes his head. âDonât worry about it. Did you have fun, at least? With Mr. Heartbreak?â
You giggle. âSo much fun.â
âWell⊠thatâs good, at least.â
He looks at you, really looks, and for a moment, he forgets himself.
Youâre looking up at the stars, your head tilted up, your lips curved upwards in a smile.
Harryâs expression matches yours. Itâs one of quiet awe, of happiness and joy and adoration. Heâs smiling, too, but itâs not as conscious. Itâs more reflexive, something he canât help but do whenever he catches sight of this view. Heâs not looking at the stars, though - his gaze is focused on you.
âCome on!â you exclaim suddenly, jumping up. âThis is the perfect excuse to watch The Notebook again.â Harry blinks, standing up and following you back to his car. âYou took the words right out of my mouth,â he says.
***
Ideally, on the anniversary of your meeting Harry, youâd both rent a hotel room and get drunk on the minibar, talking nonsense until morning, to properly reenact that first night together. Problem with that is that hotel rooms cost money.
So instead, you have a sleepover. Last year it was at your place, so this year itâs at his. The good thing about not being in a hotel is that you can buy normal size bottles of booze, rather than the teeny ones from the minibar.
Heâs grabbing everything from the kitchen while youâre queueing up the movie on the TV in his room. Itâs not cooperating, though, and youâre rooting through all the wires in the back to try and find something thatâs supposed to be connected.
âHarry, if you donât get in here this second!â you shout at him.
âDid you get the other remote?â he shouts back.
You groan and whine, âJust come in here!â
âI havenât gotten everything yet! Look for the second remote. Itâs in one of the drawers.â
âWhich drawers?â you yell.
He doesnât reply.
So you ruffle through the drawers closest to the TV. Books, papers, chargers. No remotes. You go further and find his record collection. A few photo albums. You stick a sticky note on the top one that says, Note to self: go through these. Thereâs more books. A few DVDs.
And then - a folder. It has a yellow flower on it.
Frowning, you glance at the door behind you and then flip it open. What must be a hundred post it notes fall out. Your jaw drops, just slightly, because theyâre all from you. Every sticky note youâve ever left him is in this folder. He kept them all.
âDid you find it?â Harry shouts.
You ask, âFind what?â but your voice is too soft and he doesnât hear you.
He shouts your name again, and you quickly shove the folder back where you got it. You clear your throat, then yell, âHarry, I canât find it!â Finally, he comes in, arms full of food and drink, and tugs open the top drawer on his bedside table with his foot.
And there it is.
âHave I got to do everything around here or what?â he jokes.
You give him a laugh and set up the TV, which works just fine now that you have the right tools. Harry sets everything down and puts his hands on his hips, raising a brow at you. âYou alright?â he asks.
âYeah, fine,â you tell him. âJust grew a few white hairs waiting for you to come back.â
He sticks his tongue out and tosses a bag of chips at you. âHa, ha, very funny.â
Finally, the movieâs set up, and you lean against his bed, sighing in contentment as the opening credits start to play. Harry hands you a glass and holds his own out, which you knock against your own. âCheers, Styles,â you say. âTo five years.â
âAnd counting.â
Grinning, you drink up and then settle back to watch the film.
***
His voice is thick.
Like honey.
It drips off his tongue, catches on his lips, slides down the column of his throat and glistens in the dim light. Itâs rich. Deep. It turns to crystal in the cool air around you as his words fade off. You want to reach out and feel it on your fingers, want to taste it on your tongue, want to feel it slide over your lips, down your throatâŠ
â... and then, suddenly, I was flying out the window with the worst pain Iâve ever -â
âHarry,â you interrupt with a giggle, âthis is the third time youâve told this story tonight.â
âItâs a good story!â
âLemme see,â you say, crawling forward, and youâre on his lap now but you canât really bring yourself to care because this is for scientific purposes. Harry grins and puts his hands on your waist and you giggle again and put your fingers on his jaw. âLemme see your tongue.â
âWanna see it or touch it?â
You smirk and reply, âHow âbout lick it?â
âThatâs gross!â Harry exclaims with a delighted laugh.
âI know!â you exclaim back, equally delighted.
âItâs broken,â Harry says, but heâs opening his mouth so it comes out all warbled. âIâm broken, you know -â You peer at his tongue, but it doesnât look very broken. âNo, youâre not,â you tell him.
âOn the inside,â Harry says, pouting at you.
You laugh and wrap your arms around his neck, nestling your head on his shoulder in a hug. âYouâre warm,â you say, âthatâs what you are.â Harry nods against you, running his hands up and down your back. âYou fix me,â he slurs into your neck.
âThatâs so romantic!â you giggle.
You sit there for a second, breathing him in, feeling happy, and then suddenly -
âIâm roasting,â Harry says, and itâs morning.
âIâm so hot,â you groan, âand my head hurts so badâŠâ
Harry grunts and pushes against you. âGet off me.â
You open your eyes, squinting in the sunlight, and fall off of him and onto the floor.
He stands up, moaning and groaning, and walks out. You may have fallen asleep again because when he comes back in and hands you a glass of water and some medicine youâre blinking back awake. âThanks,â you mumble, downing both.
âThat was something,â Harry says.
âSomething for sure,â you say.
âI canât move,â Harry says.
âMe neither.â
So you donât. The day drags on, and when youâre both coherent enough for food you go to the kitchen. Harry cooks something up, and you eat it, sitting next to him at the kitchen island. You feel his foot against yours, and you play a half-delirious game of footsie as you finish eating.
Once youâre all done, Harry stands up and starts to wash the dishes. You watch him, watch his back and his arms and the way he moves, and stand up and stand next to him, grabbing a dish towel and holding out your hand. He hands you the plate, and you dry it.
Itâs comfortable, the silence, and itâs more than peaceful, standing there drying dishes with Harry in the early afternoon. There arenât many dishes, but you both take your time, and eventually he breaks the silence and the productivity to put on some music.
And then, suddenly, youâre dancing, a smile on your face that you canât seem to get rid of curving your lips as you float around the kitchen with him. Heâs bopping along to the song, hand in yours, dish towel over his shoulder after he stole it from you.
The dancing carries you to the living room, where he twirls you out so you can collapse onto the couch. He does the same, and you put your feet on his lap, head on the armrest, looking at him.
âYouâre staring,â he says.
âYouâre in front of me.â
âExcuses, excuses.â
You raise a brow, smiling and still holding his gaze, and then sit up. âStaring contest, go.â
Instantly, he blinks, and you laugh, âFuckâs sake.â
âNo, no, again,â he demands, grinning, and he blinks quickly a few times before declaring, âGo.â The staring begins. Your eyes begin to sting, and you bite your lip, trying to keep your eyes open.
âWe should watch Bird Box,â Harry whispers.
âSaw it last week.â
âI saw it,â he corrects. âYou hid behind your hands the entire time.â
âYou were the one screaming like a baby.â
âI prefer rom-coms, you know that.â
âSometimes you need a little variety in life.â
âI lost the bet.â
You blink.
âVictory,â Harry says, a bit weakly, blinking too.
Your brows furrow. âWhat?â
âVictory,â Harry repeats, smiling sheepishly.
âNo, no, before that,â you insist, shaking your head.
âI lost the bet,â Harry repeats softly.
You swallow thickly. âWhat bet?â
Harry bites his lip, concentrating, and then stands up and walks away. You scoff, following him, and ask again. âWhat bet?â He shakes his head, quiet, and opens his refrigerator, looking for something.
âHarry, for the love of -â
He holds out a kiss. A chocolate kiss.
Your eyes widen.
He steps closer, holding the kiss out on his palm. âI lost the bet,â he says. âI fell in love with you.â Your breath catches in your throat. âI donât know if you feel the same,â he goes on, âso I⊠I donât want to kiss you. I mean - I do, but -â
He holds the kiss closer to you. âI lost,â he finishes quietly.
You canât find the right words.
So instead, you close the distance and kiss him.
The chocolate kiss falls to the floor, and fireworks erupt behind your eyelids.
After a moment, the words come.
And then, when you pull away for a moment, you both speak at the same time -
âI love you.â
Laughter bubbles from your lips, and Harry grins, kissing you again.
âSo I guess I didnât lose after all,â he murmurs.
You smile against his lips. âLetâs call it a tie.â
***
AHHHH there it is!!!! i actually did write this in like . two days . which was ! great haha but i hope u liked it!!!! if u did, feedback and a reblog would be much appreciated đ
thanks for reading!
masterlist | ask
#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles fluff#harry styles one shot#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles writing#harry styles oneshot#harry styles x y/n#harry styles
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Hiiiii hope youâre doing wellll
Anyways I have a lot of Saturation brainrot thoughts but I have a few points Iâd very much like to compliment you for, Iâd love to hear your thought process if you have any regarding these
- it is so insanely cool to see a fic where the other character actually KNOWS their feelings are reciprocated, because like yeah oblivious to romantic feelings and all is cool to see, but itâs actually so RARE for a ship to be aware that their feelings are indeed mutual, and I think thatâs one of the defining things that make your fic so unique in terms of being a Narumitsu story. Like itâs cool to see Edgeworth knowing this, and I love the funny scenes that come from him knowing this and sort of messing with Phoenix (playfully) with that knowledge
- Second, THANK YOU so much, for not doing that thing with like, getting other characters involved to âforce these two to get togetherâ Like yes there is a subtle push, mostly with Edgeworth being encouraged to acknowledge his feelings regarding Phoenix near the start of the fic, but after that itâs hands off for all other characters and Edgeworth and Phoenix figure out their feelings and admit to them on their own. This may be a personal thing of mine, but.. I donât.. really like fics, that kind of like⊠have the AA side characters try really hard to get them together, like I get the intention is good nature, and yes I guess IRL itâd be hard watching two people who you think youâre certain are very much in love with each other, do nothing for years⊠but like.. I feel people forget ultimately that that isnât THEIR decision to decide that, also like⊠thereâs that line of consent too? Did these two character ever consent or ask to get pushed along by their friends?
Itâs a tad difficult for me to put into words but like.. basically Iâm just saying I appreciate you letting this be a story that very much centers around Edgeworth and Phoenix when it comes to their feelings. Yes other characters are there, but they arenât there for the sole nature of pushing along a pairing. I like it a lot more when a pairing naturally comes to their own conclusion on their feelings, than supposedly others getting involved to give a âgentle push.â Encouragement is fine, in little amounts I donât mind at all! But big grand actions is just kind of.. Not really something I enjoy seeing in pairing fics, I suppose.
Hi, I am doing quite well today, and I hope this finds you well, too!
In regards to the feelings being reciprocated, and how rare that is in fics and fiction, that's actually kind of why I did it this way. I adore stories, both original and fan-created, and I consume a vast quantity of them. They are my Special Interest. Combine this with my ADHD and being thirty-four, and I'm at the point in my reading career where I tend to notice certain patterns in storytelling and, if I've seen them done enough times, get inspired/motivated to try doing something different. Not saying I'm the first or only person to do this, obviously, but it is one of the key factors that drives my creativity - it gives me a chance to try new things and explore the characters and the world (and, as anyone who hangs around my blog or has looked through my AO3 works knows, I love me some world-building and character-building in interesting situations)! I'm really happy to hear that you've been enjoying the results of my exploration for this fic! ^U^
In regards to not having the characters try and force anyone together, you're welcome, and same, honestly. The only time I like characters plotting to get others together is if they're so busy making plans that they don't notice the two characters getting together on their own in the background, and then these two proceeding to mess with the plotters when they realize what's going on. That can be fun! But if it's played straight? Then it's not my cup of tea, either. Sometimes a character needs a little nudge to get the ball rolling, like Edgeworth did, but beyond that, yeah, I'd rather create a situation to allow the relationship to grow naturally than have characters within the fic manufacture the same situation.
It may have been difficult to put into words, but thank-you so much for making the effort, I'm pretty sure I know what you're talking about and also this was just a lovely ask to receive in general - I've been mooshing my face in it for a few days just to soak up all the positive vibes! ^U^ <3 <3 <3
Thanks for the ask!
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hello!! iâm new to your blog but if your requests are open how about childe with a harbinger s/o? someone who help fuels his need for battle and keeps him warm at night?
Ah, hello, Anon! Welcome to my blog! My requests are very much open indeed!
Iâm unsure of if you wanted headcanons or a short fic, but Iâll write both for good measure. Also, if youâre on my blogâs actual page and thereâs no read more button on this post, click the date just above the post and it should show you the whole thing. I have no idea why it wonât show the read more and canât seem to fix it.
Anyway, please enjoy!
âââ
- Tartaglia would be smitten with someone who has that fighting spirit.
- Of course, if youâre not much of a fighter, there are certainly other aspects of you he likes.
- But having someone who will give him cuddles and sparring matches?
- This boy is in heaven.
- If youâre a fellow Harbinger, heâll find any chance he can get to work alongside you.
- The two of you together have more than a little sway in the Snezhnayan military as literally two of its aces, so youâre more often than not the dynamic duo of the Fatui.
- Harbingers Eleven and Twelve are a package deal and everyone knows it.
- Power couple? Power couple indeed. The definition of a power couple.
- Literally. With the combined power of your visions, combat ability, and your looove, you kick ass.
- Tartaglia is literally like âlook at my girl, off to destroy people.â
- Heâs proud of your power and will brag about how strong you are any chance he can get.
- Your sparring matches are fierce.
- The two of you are pretty evenly matched in terms of power, so you need a wide open space to spar or things will get⊠messy.
- Like Iâm talking vases smashed, tables broken in half kind of messy.
- Itâs best you spar outside so you donât wreck the house.
- Youâre his enabler, like heâll say something really fucking ominous about how the snow is a perfect backdrop for bloodshed and youâre like âshit, you right.â
- Iâm getting Rakan and Xaya from League of Legends vibes but with way less freedom fighter and way more murder and battle hunger.
- I donât know why I like the thought of him calling you his âlittle dove,â but I do and I will be using that.
- You treat each otherâs wounds after battles, all that fun stuff.
- Partners in Crime 100%.
- But at the end of the day, the two of you end up snuggled close at night no matter where you are, be it out camping in the wild or stationed in Liyue Harbor.
âââ
âOuch.â
A huffed chuckle, and you felt the bandages around your waist go slack.
âSorry,â Tartaglia said, âThat pyro arrow really came out of nowhere, hm?â
You snorted. âNothing Iâm not used to.â
Another chuckle, and you felt him press a kiss to the crown of your head, making you smile.
âThatâs my little dove,â he said, and you smiled wider at the affectionate nickname, âtough as nails.â
âYouâre the same way,â you said, âAlwaysâ shit!â
You felt the bandages tighten again, and Tartaglia muttered a soft apology as he finished tying them around your wound.
âThere,â he said, âall wrapped up.â
You pressed a palm to your bandaged waist, wincing at the tenderness beneath it, and Tartaglia pulled your hand away, making you raise an eyebrow at him.
âDonât mess with it too much,â he said, âitâll form a lovely scar, but itâs best to let it heal for now.â
He loved your scars, something youâd been insecure about before you met him. But he told you they showed you were strong, that you were a fighter befitting the title of Twelfth Harbinger. And in turn, you loved his scars. The uneven skin beneath your fingertips reminded you that the man you loved was real, and that what you had with him wasnât just a dream.
âThank you for patching me up, love,â you said, and Tartaglia smiled, lips pressing tenderly to your forehead.
âAlways.â
The door to the office swung open, revealing a young Fatui foot soldier. When he saw your state of undress, he covered his masked face, turning around.
âL-Lord Harbingers, headquarters have sent further orders. Please pick them up at your convenience.â
You reached for your shirt, buttoning it on over your chest, followed by your jacket. You hadnât been fully naked, you were wearing a bra, but you still felt a little bad for giving the young man such a surprising eyeful.
âThank you,â Tartaglia said, and you noticed a sliver of venom in his voice when he spoke again, âbut maybe consider knocking next time.â
The foot soldier turned around, his cheeks beet red. âY-yes, Lord Harbinger, sir! Will do, sir!â
Nearly tripping over himself, the soldier scurried from the room, closing the door after him.
âYou scared the wits out of the poor kid,â you said, and Tartaglia scowled.
âNobody but I am able to see you like that.â
His jealousy was a little adorable, you had to admit. You stood up from your perch on the edge of the desk and crossed to stand close to him, wrapping your arms around his waist.
âIt was an accident, love. Give it a rest.â
He sighed, resting his chin on your head. âOkay, if you say so, dove.â
The two of you stayed like that for a while, happy and warm before heading off to take care of official business. As you walked, you stood close, fingers brushing together every so often, just on the verge of interlacing.
The Eleventh and Twelfth were a package deal, everyone knew that. Even your new orders knew that. And as you looked up at your love, meeting his smile with yours, everything was perfect.
#request#genshin tartagalia#tartagalia x reader#harbinger reader#Fatui! Reader#this got popular for some reason#thanks anon!#hcs#drabble
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Stucky Fic Recs
So basically I went through all of my ao3 bookmarks and collated a list of some of my favourites (I couldn't fit all of them on this list, so if anyone shows interest there might be a part two).
Please read tags and descriptions of the works before reading, some of them are pretty dark or extremely horny so just make sure you check that the fic is for you!!
Please please please send me your favourite fics in return! I am always happy to hear fic recs, headcanons and any other ideas/comments you all have!
Without any further ado, here are a few of my favourite Stucky fics:
âNot Easily Conqueredâ series by dropdeaddream, WhatAreFear
Rating: M, Words: 117,692
https://archiveofourown.org/series/115516
âI told you, you heard me: I told you never to follow me into Hell. Now Iâm not vain enough to think thatâs why youâre out here now â if thereâs any person in whatâs left of this God forsaken planet whoâs part of a bigger picture, itâd be you. But Iâll keep saying it until it sticks. You got nothing to prove. Iâm not worth much, I damn well know that, but Iâll ask you anyway: Stay for me. If you leave me alone in this world Iâll turn into something terrible. Iâll turn into the nasty creature thatâs growing inside me. This war, itâll swallow me wholeâ
[To me, this fic is like the classic Stucky 101 fanfic â if you're a Stucky fan and you haven't read this, I highly recommend it. The authors explore the Steve/Bucky relationship in such an interesting, tragic, emotive way and I cry every time I read it. I couldn't praise this work enough.]
âAinât No Graveâ series by spitandvinegar
Rating: M-E, Words: 131,789
https://archiveofourown.org/series/426577
"Yeah, he never calls me by my name," Steve says. "It's always champ, ace, hotshot, that kinda thing."
"Man, that is flirting," Sam says. "That nicknames thing, he is flirting with you. He's just working his way up to calling you baby or something."
Steve goes redder than a damn coke can. Sam pumps his fist. "Yes, I am so right, I am wise as hell. He did, didn't he?"
"He called me sweetheart," Steve says grimly, "because he's a drug addict with brain damage."
"Or because he looooooves you," Sam says. Captain America throws a cookie at his head. Sam eats it, because he deserves a treat for being so damn wise.â
[I'm currently re-reading this fic and absolutely loving it. The way spitandvinegar writes Bucky's road towards recovery and Steve's entire characterisation â it's all just so good. It's another one that covers some pretty dark themes, so make sure you're checkin those tags!]
'Einherjar' by thecommodore_squid
Rating: M, Words: 71297
https://archiveofourown.org/works/7157024/chapters/16249814
But Steve was fine.
Sure, he hadnât seen Bucky in months, and sometimes he was at the punching bag so long that his skin started to peel off to expose the bones of his fingers, and sometimes he couldnât find the energy to drag himself out of bed, and sometimes he went weeks without sleeping, and sometimes he thought about throwing himself head-first off the nearest tall structure, but he was fine.
He was absolutely, perfectly, one-hundred percent, fucking fine.
AKA In which Steve learns how to deal with his shit, and Bucky learns how to stop leaving.
[basically the definition of a recovery fic, I absolutely adore it. This is tragic and amazing and makes me cry and smile. Itâs got a bunch of fantastic cameos and It really just ticks so many of my boxes.]
âLike real People doâ by 2bestfriends
Rating: E, Words: 67,775
https://archiveofourown.org/works/19887376/chapters/47103217
â"Ask me what?" demands Bucky. "I didn't hear a question."
Steve licks his lips. "Will you stay with me? Will you come back home, Buck?"
"Home," repeats Bucky in a small voice, and then he's crying for real.â
[Basically soft lumberjack!steve and lonely twink!bucky being horny and in love. This is a comfort fic for thatâs really just about my favourite boys falling in love.]
âThis City Bleeds itâs Aching Heartâ by anonymous
Rating: E, Words: 34,537
https://archiveofourown.org/works/835829/chapters/1591736
âThe one where Steve and Bucky pose as a happily married couple while on a mission for SHIELD, to catch an international arms dealer hiding in a suburban neighbourhood.â
[The plot in this one is just a good time and i think itâs just a really fun take on the fake relationship trope. Also some really great characterisation.]
âHome is Wherever Iâm With Youâ by cydonic
Rating: E, Words: 88,570
https://archiveofourown.org/works/18868081/chapters/44783077
âBucky kisses Steve and Emma goodbye before they leave for school, which is why â partway down the road â Amelia turns to him and asks, âwhy are you and Daddy kissing?â
Which is definitely a conversation Buckyâs been expecting since Steve just did it, but it still takes him by surprise. Again, he thinks he should wait for Steve, but Ameliaâs not the sort of kid to let anything rest. Plus, Buckyâs taking her to school where she will undoubtedly share the story with anyone whoâll listen.
He also stops to think that Steveâs asked him to stay, which means Bucky must be trusted with their happiness and well-being, at least in some small capacity.
Bucky clears his throat and searches for some explanation that will help Amelia make sense of this sudden turn of events. âBecause we love each other,â is all he comes up with.â
[Bear with me, this is a House Flipper!Bucky Au. And dad!Steve. I just love a found family trope Iâm not gonna lie to you. Another comfort fic that warms my lil heart.]
âLucky Sevenâ by BetteNoire (WeAreWolves)
Rating: E, Words: 94,364
https://archiveofourown.org/works/7033105/chapters/16002481
âBack from where--?â James says, the sentence ending in a distinctly undignified squawk as Steve sweeps him up in his arms, bridal-style, and starts carrying him upstairs.
James tenses momentarily then relaxes into Steve's arms and throws back his head and starts laughing. The laughter peals out of him, his body shaking, his amusement occasionally broken by little gasps of pain.
âWhat's so funny?â Steve frowns.
âYou are,â James says, still giggling. âYou're ridiculous, Steve Rogers.â
âBehave. Or I will drop you,â Steve growls.
[The shrunkyclunks modern AU of my dreams featuring Mechanic!Bucky and cap!Steve and some really beautiful writing.]
'Dishonor On Your Cow' by mandarou
Rating: E, Words: 111695
https://archiveofourown.org/works/10659162/chapters/23589582
âSergeant Barnes?â
âOh, hell no, donât call him that, man,â Sam warned.
âCaptain Fuck Off!â Barnes shouted over him. âFight me!â
Steve didnât know whether to laugh or just slink away. He managed to combine the two by pacing two steps and snorting instead. Like a bull.
âIâm gonna need you to calm your ass, Barnes,â Sam said as he went limp again, obstructing Barnesâs struggling under him. âThis is so undignified. That is Captain goddamn America.â
âCaptain goddamn America!â Barnes repeated, louder. And angrier.
Steve cleared his throat again. âIâve been looking for you,â he told Barnes.
âI hope you brought lube this time!â Barnes shouted.
[Iâm not gonna lie it took me a minute to get into this one but by the end I was crying with them, laughing with them, and just really in my feels. Some very insane things happen so hereâs a few of my favourite tags: âSeargent Barnes is done with your Shit Steveâ, âblatant disrespect of a manâs motorcycleâ, âSteve you ding dongâ and âPR nightmares in the form of Supersoldiersâ.]
Propietary Information by Notlucy
Rating: E, Words: 85141
https://archiveofourown.org/works/11964402/chapters/27054777
âOkay, so Bucky Barnes has a crush on Steve Rogers. The guy's gorgeous, talented and, oh yeah, the Chief Design Officer of the biggest tech company in the world. In other words: he's so far out of Bucky's league that he might as well be in a different stratosphere.â
[We were never gonna get through this list without a Sugar Daddy!AU (I have a weakness). This one is⊠saucy and sexy and sweet and uh pretty kinky so read the tags and all. Iâve read it a few times, and I love the way the author has written Steve in this one, he just makes my heart go '!!!']
âRoots Have Grownâ by AustinB
Rating: M, Words: 17280
https://archiveofourown.org/works/6912451/chapters/15767941
âBucky is a mildly agoraphobic veteran with funds to spare, who becomes enamored with the cute blonde guy in his building.
So when Steve mentions needing a roommate to cut down on rent costs, Bucky decides it would be a good idea to volunteer.â
[Another weakness of mine is Roommate AUs, and this one is phenomenal. I tend to go for post serum!Steve stories more often, but this is a pre-serum Steve that I just adore.]
âThe Cold Never Bothered me Anywayâ by icoulddothisallday
Rating: E, Words:75562
https://archiveofourown.org/works/11728869/chapters/26425530
âBucky Barnes has spent his whole life in a state of mild hypothermia. Steve Rogers has spent the last 70 years in the ice. The two things arenât related until, suddenly, they are. Shrunkyclunks soulmate AU (AKA the awkward bb au).â
[I think this is the only soulmate AU in my bookmarks? I would totally be down to read more though! This one is really fun and really enjoy Buckyâs characterisation here!]
'War, Children' by Nonymos
Rating: E, Words: 106615
https://archiveofourown.org/works/5373050/chapters/12409394
âAfter Bucky was released from the hospital, it only took him a couple of weeks to give up on himself. Difficult to believe in any kind of future when the simple act of staying alive was almost too big an effort.
Out the frosted window, across the street, there was a tiny homeless guy burrowing under an awning.â
[An interesting exploration of Buckyâs PTSD with a trans!Steve which was a cool take on his character too!]
'The Company You Keep' by orbingarrow
Rating: G, Words: 51191
https://archiveofourown.org/works/3468605/chapters/7613072
âHurt, hungry, and on the run, the Winter Soldier doesnât have a lot of safe options to go to for help. Figuring that any friend of Captain Steve Rogers is unlikely to be HYDRA, Bucky takes a chance and reaches out to the first Avenger he can find.
It works out better than anyone could have expected. Eventually.â
[hurt/comfort, recovering Bucky, protective Steve, found family and domestic avengers, need I say more? I absolutely loved this one]
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Bruvvvv, nobody come after me please but i am in fact a proud virgin Gojo truther and i will stand by it! Virgin Gojo who's not innocent at all that you wouldn't actually even see it coming even after you've done it with him? The fact that he can do anything he tries... bye
Anyways, i just wanna brainrot here a bit because you're lovely and your takes are always correct. I know for a fact that that man doesn't know how to properly handle touch, he's touch starved and is cynical about intimacy, unless it just so happens to be with someone he loves and trusts, yes yes, friends that are lovers i will forever treasure this ok? I've seen your fic where he and reader did it at age of 23 and it all came crashing down on me, it makes sense??? Like this can be interpreted in so many ways and i love how you openly leave it like that unlike some fics which almost always have to mention how Gojo was fucking around đ -- anyway, i love how he was playing it cool and laughing, making lighthearted atmosphere, this is Gojo afterall, he is smug, and confident and has every right to be but internally?? He's burning, and only focused on giving reader the pleasure, he just couldn't bear doing it with anyone that he didn't know properly and was finally glad to be able to do something he wanted to in like forever. Again he's confident, but he also wants to make sure she feels good no matter what, all those interal combustions are being hidden and played by his light comments, questions, jokes. So she practically could never even guess it, but even if she later found out, she wouldn't find it that surprising.
With all that said i just wanna add a mini-analysis here based on my understanding and interpretation of Gojo.
So i don't think that he would openly wanna show this side of him to just anyone, sure he appreciates beauty and all but i think he draws the line somewhere, plus, the fact that connection and love is actually important to this man, yeah no, i simply don't see him fooling around like that with anyone, he afterall doesn't do anything without a reason. If anything i think that in hs he probably explored the topic but got embarassed af and Shoko was making fun of him for trying to sound lewd on the account of his lacking experience lmaooo also there's no way Gojo could even get a girl remotely interested in anything firsthand before she turns tail and leave while Geto was scoring
So yeah, he needs a form of closeness and a bond before anything, also i briefly talked about this in the previous ask but i like to think that he and reader got back onto it a few times after aswell because why not? they do love each other after all, platonic or romantic or both? who th cares!
Conclusion: Virgin Gojo & Chad Geto <3 <3 <3
I appreciate you for leaving people to interpretate these how they want, though in truth i stand by this one the most because it makes sense to me the most heheh đ„°
FRIENDS TO LOVERS FRIENDS TO LOVERS FRIENDS TO LOVERS>>>>>> aka morgan's favorite favorite trope. it is also the reason why i neither like nor can write enemies to lovers (i can read it tho but it needs to be done excellently)
honestly as someone who slides between either he's a virgin or he probably does it once a while w/ a fwb (stress reliever + gojo's ability to detach himself from people and situations) i would rather just leave it up to whatever people want to think LOL a part of me also thinks gojo would have done it once for the novelty of it all in hs and then never again bc geto leaving crushed his heart đ. but also i am so soft for friends to lovers and ppl having their firsts with someone they trust and love bc of the intimacy involved it's just soooooooooo *chef's kiss
shoko WOULD make fun of loser virgin gojo. shoko is getting numbers and dates. shoko is more popular than gojo AND geto combined just like she deserves.
#also im pretty sure someone sent me an ask saying the same EXACT thing#to be honest now im leaning towards virgin gojo bc everyone saying he's a virgin and sending me cute hcs have too much power#gojo cries during sex#liishook
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Kiss Me
Title: Kiss Me
Pairing: Captain Syverson x reader
Rating: T
Word count: 2.5k
Warnings: Very intense kissing? Some grinding?
I am back on my Henry bullshit, this time with the lovely Captain Syverson. As with my last Henry fic, this came about from a discussion with Brooke, which led to a personalized fic, and she graciously okayed me posting it as a reader insert for the rest of you to enjoy. Partly inspired by the video of strangers kissing for the first time. And if this guy were the one Iâd get to kiss? Hold on while I go full koala on him.
The early afternoon sun had seemed blistering when she left her apartment, and the sundress had been the obvious option; light, breezy material, a pretty pattern that combined comfort and style. The sun had nothing on the man sitting down opposite her now, radiating a kind of warmth and confidence that had heat creeping up her chest and neck, her fingers fiddling in her lap.
It had been a spur of the moment decision, an audition call shared by a recent acquaintance on Instagram. Film majors at the nearby college needed volunteers for a course project, weekend appointments, no experience needed, come as you are. Sounded fun, her weekends were mostly open anyway. What could possibly go wrong. She had messaged the contact person, gotten an address and a time to show up.
The first shock, admittedly, had come as she was signed in, given a form to fill out, detailing the project. She. Was going to kiss. A stranger. In front of cameras. For a film project.Â
âMiss? Are you alright?â The bubbly brunette who had signed her in, Abigail, according to the name tag tacked to her t-shirt, had looked at her, and she realized she must have made a sound.
âNo! No, I'm fine, I- I just didnât realize Iâd- That this was-â
âOh! Oh, youâll be fine, there will be people in the room, you'll be safe as houses, darling, we won't say your names, that'll be up to you to share if you want.â The twang of her accent had was oddly comforting, but her heart was still racing, and suddenly, the handful of people lined up sitting in the corridor seemed all the more dangerous. She was going to kiss one of them. Fuck. Hastily, she'd filled out the rest of the form, handing it back and taking the number given, finding the nearest chair and trying to rifle through her purse as discreetly as she could for a chewing gum or a breath mint.Â
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
She had nearly launched out of her seat when her number was called, probably doing a credible impression of a deer caught in headlights. Abigail had smiled at her, motioning for her to follow.
âI promise, you will be fine. Our project manager wanted to explore the intimacy of the first kiss, what happens in those seconds before.â
âWhy strangers?â
âItâs more⊠honest,â Abigail had said. âCouples know each other, know what to expect. They are comfortable. And itâs beautiful, donât get me wrong, thereâs nothing sweeter. I still remember my grandpa kissing my grandma goodnight when my brother and I would stay over when we were kids, the absolute comfort and love between them. But strangers, they donât know what to expect. Thereâs a level of trust between them, courage to take the leap.â
Thatâs⊠She couldnât decide if that eased her mind or set it racing even more. Sheâd simply nodded, letting Abigail lead her to a door a little way ahead, unlocking it for her.
âYou can leave your purse on the table on the right when you enter. Then go sit in one of the chairs. Iâll bring the guy in shortly. The camera will start rolling as soon as he sits down, you can introduce yourself if you want, just your name, doesn't even have to be your real one if you don't want to, and you can share whatever else you feel comfortable sharing and thenâŠâ
âThen we kiss.â
It had seemed so simple, so straightforward in all its terrifying simplicity.
At first, there is only the outline of him, stark against the light outside the room and showing a muscular frame with tensed shoulders and a wary gait. Folding her hands in her lap, she picks at the fabric of her dress, folding the skirt into tight pleats between her fingers, following the man as he inches closer. Dark jeans that reveal long legs and thick thighs, a worn t-shirt tucked into them that stretches over a chest that is⊠impressive. His face, though⊠His face is what sets her heart fluttering all anew. A strong jaw, hidden under a neatly trimmed beard, a slightly pouty lower lip and a perfect cupidâs bow. His nose looks like it may have been broken once, but itâs been set pretty well, lends character to his face, enhanced by the clear blue of his eyes that focus in on her. His hair is short, curling a little at the ends, but kept as neat as his beard, almost like a military man, but she can spot no chain around his neck that would hold his dog tags.
And then, heâd walked in.Â
She barely hears the murmur to her left when the cameras start rolling.
He doesnât speak until heâs sitting down, gaze on her, softening a little as he holds out a hand.
âCa- Shit, sorry. No names, right?â He looks at her, almost a little scared that heâs messed up, and it is far too endearing for such a rugged man.
Without hesitation, she gives her first name, her real first name, a little surprised at herself for offering it along with her hand. His hand is calloused, warm and big, her own palm almost drowning in his clasp when he takes it. âNice to meet you.â
The man laughs, releasing her hand and relaxing in his seat. âSy. Nice to meet you, too. Pardon me if I'm being rude, but you don't sound like you're from around here.â
âHere for work for the next couple of months. Gotta say, you've got a pretty good ear.â
His eyes sparkle, a smile tugging at his lips, and god, the heat rises in her again, different from the apprehension that had her worked up just moments ago. He is the kind of man that draws you in, that can make you melt with a look, and she is fading fast. She is going to kiss him. He is going to kiss her.
âI won't hold it against you," Sy quips, hands resting on his thighs, and god, she wants to feel them on her.
"Me not being from around here? Or are we talking about something else?"
"Well, I was thinking the first..."
His words trail off, the suggestion hanging heavy in the silence. It feels like it stretches an eternity between them, but it's probably no more than five seconds. She's about to ask if they should start, if she should move, but Sy is looking at her, gaze wandering, assessing. The way he takes her in,i's not objectifying or greedy, not judgmental. It's⊠curiosity. Assessing her, planning his move, appreciating her, and she can feel it, feel his gaze move up and down her face, when it dips down for a fraction to her chest.
Everything fades with his first move. There are no cameras, no people, no one but them. Sy moves slowly, deliberately, scooting to sit on the edge of the chair, knee knocking against hers. It's electric, making her flinch and gasp, and that seems to please him. His hand comes up to rest on her knee, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb, locking eyes with her, willing her to relax.
"There we goâŠ" Sy croons when she lets out a small sigh, his voice low and velvety. "Just relax. 'S just you an' me here. Donât need to think about the rest of âem.. I'll be good, darlin', you can trust me. Isn't that right?"
She can only nod, inching towards the edge of her own chair, drawn into his warmth, the gentle timbre of his voice, the smolder behind the blue of his eyes.
"Yeah, thatâs right, sugar. Câmon, come closer.â
His voice is hypnotic, not quite a purr, not quite a rumble, but it begs to be obeyed. She leans in closer, the two of them mirroring each other, and the tension is no longer in his shoulder, but sparking between them. His measured breaths fan lightly against her skin, and though everything in her should, by all logic, tell her to run, she finds herself relaxing. Syâs thumb keeps working tight little circles, and he moves slowly, giving her plenty of time to see his intentions, and God, she welcomes it, tilts her head to welcome him.
Itâs no explosion of stars or fireworks. His lips are a little chapped, but he knows how to kiss, working against her in soft pressure and the tease of his tongue along the seam of her lips. Itâs not forcing the kiss, just giving her the option, showing that he is offering. When his other hand comes up to cup her cheek, she canât help the needy whine that escapes her, and Sy smiles into the kiss, deepens it a little, swipes his tongue along her lips again.
She opens, happily surrendering, feeling him push back, soothing his thumb along her cheekbone. He kisses like she is the one thing he has been longing for, his happily ever after at the end of a long adventure. She kisses like he is the single point of stability in a storm, the one safe harbour in the entire world. Their spaces intertwine, slowly phasing and his one hand on her cheek is nowhere near enough. She pushes, Sy gives, and in one fluid moment and a happy sigh, she has straddled his lap, slinging her arms around his neck. Sheâs not letting go, not leaving this moment, and itâs almost like triumph when he embraces her, palms splaying on her back and she can feel the warmth through the thin material of her dress.
Itâs a kiss for the ages, and theyâre both hungry, both taking what the other gives freely. Syâs hands wander, his fingertips teasing at the neckline to brush against heated skin, and she digs short, manicured nails into the skin of his neck, revelling in the groan he lets out. He pulls her closer, and oh. Her stomach does a somersault, a surprised giggle punctuating their kiss. Under her, Sy is hard, and the brief contact makes her all too aware of just how damp her panties have gotten.
Thereâs a less than discreet cough, and it pops their bubble, their gazes both snapping to the sound.Â
Right.
The film crew are standing behind their gear, some squirming, clearly a little uncomfortable. Sy gives a laugh, and itâs hard not to follow. She still feels winded from the kiss, head swimming, and she touches her forehead to his, biting her lower lip.
âI think we⊠might have overdone it,â she whispers, lips brushing against his cheek.
âIâm inclined to agree,â Sy agrees, his shoulders shuddering with poorly disguised mirth. He looks up at the film crew, âSo, are we good?â
âYup, great! Weâre really- weâre good, you guys can, uh⊠Yeah. Good. Thanks. Um. Yeah. Great.â
They both laugh again at the awkward crew member, and she slowly eases off Syâs lap. Itâs too much of a temptation not to glance down, to raise an eyebrow at the visible bulge pressing against his jeans. He gives her a mock-chiding look before getting up himself, taking care to not face the crew as he falls into step next to her.
âLook,â he says as soon as they are out of the building, wringing his hands as he walks, âI know we just met, and that⊠that back there was for a project. But, god, sugar, you got my head spinning all kinds of ways, and I⊠it would be rude to ask to continue right away where we left off, much as I⊠god, I would really, really like to kiss you again, and⊠other things⊠But maybe you would be okay with a date? Anywhere you want. You can get to know me better. Iâll answer any questions you have, Iâll bring character references, Iâll pay for dinner and dessert, whatever you want.â
Halting, she tilts her head and looks up at him. The steely look that had assessed her when heâd entered the room is gone, as is most of the smoldering passion when their kiss had broken. It still lingers in his eyes, simmering behind the hope that made them glitter.
âYouâll answer any question?â she asks, smiling at the way he eagerly nods. âIs your name really Sy?â
âYes. Well, technically. Syversonâs my last name, so Syâs just a nickname.â
âAnd your first name? You started saying something else when you came in.â
âNo, that was⊠I was in the army for a couple of years,â he explained, pulling up one of the sleeves of his shirt to show an army insignia tattooed on his bulging bicep. She bites her tongue, wondering if he had any other tattoos on his body, almost missing when Sy continues speaking, â-made it to captain before I got my honourable discharge. Just became a force of habit to introduce myself as Captain Syverson.â
âSo, youâd bring one of your army buddies as your character reference?â She slows down to a stop, clasping her hands in front of herself. âI suppose now that youâre out of the army they wouldnât feel as compelled to make you look good.â
Sy mirrors her, feet shoulder-width apart and hands clasped in front of him, and yeah, now she can see it, the posture. Definitely army guy. âNo, no, god no! The guys in my unit would sooner throw me under the bus if I asked them to vouch for me in front of a pretty lady.â
âOh, then whoâd get the honour?â she asks, blushing at his compliment.
âWhen you signed in, there was a girl, right? Brown hair?â
âAbigail.â
âAbby,â Sy says, glancing back towards the building. âSheâs my sister. Talked me into coming today, said they needed more people.â
âShe must have something major hanging over you if she got you to agree to this.â Her voice is light, joking a she inches closer to him.
âWellâŠâ Sy drawls, taking a step forward and gently grasping her hand, âI was promised a really good kiss.â
âA really good kiss, huh?â
Just like before, he makes the first move, hooking his finger under her chin and holding her still while he closes the space, capturing her lips in another kiss. Itâs searing, slowly setting her afire, and she wants it, wants him, wants everything heâs giving and everything heâs offering. He keeps it short, and she can feel herself get up on her tippy toes to get more, and damn him. Damn him, damn him, damn him. She bites her lower lip.
âSo how about that date, huh, darlinâ?â Sy husks out, and fuck, she can hear the smile in his voice.
âI can pick the place?â
âMm-hmm.â
âAnd I can pick the time?â
âAny time you want.â
She reaches out, puts a hand on his neck, drags her fingers along warm skin and pulls him down to whisper in his ear.
âYour place. Right now. And dinner⊠is on me.â
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well.... you know that I have read your OT3 fic with Ren- Hachi and Nana and fell in love with it. so if you have ANY um literally anything you want to share about their relationship? spare me some headcanons please? ANYONE WHO HASN'T READ IT MUST READ IT BTW also: what kind of gay am i? đ okay byee
:3c
Nothing in life more satisfying than dragging someone down into a rare pair. Ngl that series of one-shots in which I get to come up with a bunch of ridiculous ships has been really fun to write, but this one is chapter 6 for anyone wondering.
ANYWAY, headcanons. I can do headcanons. Especially since you returned the favor for the other great OT3 (Nana/Ren/Yasu) here... Cause ngl, our OT3 combined into the best OT4. (also rip sorry I am finally posting this like a month later flsjdfksdfjsldj)
- Hachi has the softest, smoothest skin ever and Ren and Nana both love touching it, always touching her cheeks, stomach, underarm, boobs, etc. When Hachi overhears them talking about it she thinks they are calling her fat (idk, maybe true) but really itâs thanks to her skin care routine and all her nice lotions.
- Ren and Hachi both have their own shampoos and bodywash, but Nana never bothers getting her own and just grabs one of theirs at random.
- Hachi buys Renâs clothes for him, because a closet of 10 identical leather jackets and pants just isnât necessary. Itâs still his aesthetic, but he doesnât look like a Sid Vicious cosplay everyday... but heâs still got to at least occasionally because thatâs what Nanaâs into him for.
- Both Ren and Nana are absolute hot for Hachi wearing either of their clothes. She doesnât do it often, cause Hachiâs got a bigger wardrobe than her rock star combined so why would she need to??? But sometimes... she does it anyway. Nana pretends to be mad.
- Ren and Nana get Hachi her dream house - with a garden, fencing, veranda, walk-in closet, and a kitchen fit for a professional cook. Theyâd have been content living in a shitty apartment or any generic nice suite their agents set them up in and decorated for them but living in a cozy home is like... the stuff of their childhood dreams. At first Ren and Nana are content to let Hachi decorate it all to her heartâs desires but she keeps asking them their opinion and they all kinda get into it and Nana even builds some of their furniture at Hachiâs request. They make it into a real home and Ren and Nana make sure to never smoke inside the house because they love it too much.
- After they get that house, they host so many parties with their friends. Hachi is a perfect hostess and Ren gets really into it too. Meanwhile Nana is making half the mess as she gets too drunk.
- Hachi and Ren make most of their meals, but Nana almost always makes their miso soup at Renâs request and Hachiâs dismay. Nanaâs taste remain very salty and Nana tends to add more salt to Hachiâs food to an insulting degree.
- At first they have Hachi sleep in the middle of the bed but sheâs like this is too fucking hot here (and also sheâs 100% the type to pee a couple times in the middle of the night) so Ren takes the middle and he loves it, especially when both Hachi and Nana cuddle him on either side.
- idk if weâre in my AU or just general canon, but either way when Ren retires he becomes a stay-at-home dad to all 3 of their kids and he loves it. He teaches them all instruments and everything and they can make their own little band.
- Biologically the children are Hachi & Renâs, and for Nanaâs comfort they call her the kidâs aunt (even if she is as equally their partner) and Nanaâs a better guardian to the kids than if sheâd call herself their mom. Sheâs the best auntie, but sheâs also the strictest.Â
- Shin still plays house with Hachi as his mommy and Ren as dad but Nana will end his life if he includes her in any of these games but that doesnât stop Hachi and Ren from doing so anyway but only Hachi gets away with it.
- Ren and Nana alone arenât very publicly affectionate with each other unless the situation demands it, but the moment itâs either of them with Hachi (or all 3 of them together) itâs PDA time. Nobu claims heâs in hell watching them all flirt constantly and be lovey dovey but heâs honestly just happy to see Ren and Nana so happy. Yasuâs kinda into watching the 3 of them... ot4 for the win
- Ren and Nana love being part of the Komatsu family. Sometimes the Komatsuâs threaten to disown Hachi and Nami and replace them for Ren and Nana cause they love them back itâs what Ren and Nana always dreamed of their like, dream family dynamic. Itâs so wholesome.
all head canons that are even a little sexy below the cut
- Even tho Hachi makes her own money and has a successful career doing whatever she wants to be doing, Ren and Nana both give her credit cards in each of their names and she they give her no limits which might be a bad idea but Hachi is a spoiled little princess. Â Ren and Nana also compete to see whoâs credit card Hachi uses more, sugar daddy kinks awoken.
- Hachi tapes dramas for Ren and Nana to watch. Nana mostly watches them casually and nap to but Renâs like INTO them and makes references to them constantly and remembers all the characterâs names and all the juicy drama. Sometimes Ren will remember a drama is on and stop in the middle of even sex to go watch. Hachi will go join him while Nana will be like wtf and finish herself off before also joining him to watch.
- We all know Ren and Nana's favorite way of spending time together is sex, and you'd think Hachi would dial that back a little cause she likes romance but of course she's also a sex kitten. Also she's hot in the sack, as established, and she's generally the one whoâs like â3rd round?â and Nana and Ren are like passed out.
- Sometimes Nana and Ren call Hachi mommy in bed and thatâs all that needs to be said.
#nana#osaki nana#komtasu nana#komtasu hachi#nana osaki#hachi komatsu#nana komatsu#honjo ren#ren honjo#ot3#ai yazawa#my nana feels#i scream#headcanons#mediocreauthor#ask#long post#i mighta left out a few that I forgot but fjsdkljflsdj kl here you go
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