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alreadyblondenow · 3 years

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The morning and evening star | Johnny Suh

Johnny Suh x female!Reader

▸ too much fluff, too much smut, angst, prince of Egypt AU, slave reader ▸ Part of NCT Historical AU Collaboration hosted by @puppywritings ▸ In ancient Egypt, the Pharaoh is referred as “Morning and Evening Star”

Summary: Fighting the battles for his kingdom and for his ill father, Johnny, a prince of Egypt was given a beautiful gift the night before a great war starts. The given gift, which is you, gave the prince a very hard time but soon your heart softened the moment you allow yourself to get to know him. As you both fall in love sooner than expected, you thought that Johnny will give you your freedom but he can’t because that means letting you go. Johnny treated you as a gold and you became his most precious jewel. He kept you inside the palace, gave you a place to paint on and kept you in his life for as long as he can. But not long enough.

Word count: 8,441k Warnings: Smut, Smut, Smut, its a Johnny fic what do you expect?, mentions of slavery (if that bothers you, please click away), mentions of blood, mentions of death, mentions of sadness, self doubt, possessiveness, unprotected sex, oral sex (female), rough sex, slight exhibitionism, fingering, mentions of bruises, spitting. Mentions of other idols, and Johnny’s parents. Pregnancy, (if that bothers you please click away), mature themes, murder, family betrayal, mentions of gods bc hello its Egypt A/N: Pure fiction. Inspired by my favorite movies that I grew up watching with my family during family movie nights.. haha. (Troy, prince of Egypt, Exodus: Gods and kings, Tangled, and Gods of Egypt)

Taglist: @doyounglover @puppywritings @commentgirl @mischiefmakerliesmith5 @wonderfulkoreanpop @ethaeriyeol @suhpersonic @sunshinedhyuck @sighreal @jb-hope94

To William, thank you so much for this wonderful collab! I’m lucky enough to join last minute and I hope this fic gives justice to your wonderful collab. Thank you so much!

On a beautiful quiet night in Egypt, under the dark sky that's full of stars, a young prince is out on the terrace to look at his kingdom and admire it even with the slightest light. The moon shines beautifully and so he expects that that is a good sign that the night will be even more beautiful.

A royal banquet is waiting for his presence. Another gathering where the richest families in Egypt wish the young prince to bring peace, victory, and finally put an end to this war against the enemies.

“I can already feel the weight of my father’s crown mother, what should I do?” Johnny asks his mother as they accompany each other to the royal banquet.

“You do the right and wises thing, my son. Be a better pharaoh than your father,” his mother advises. Caressing his son’s face before they enter the room and telling him to have long patience with the ignorant people who are going to have a word with him tonight.

When everyone welcomed both the prince and the royal wife, they all cheered happily, shouting and howling for the prince while the blaring sounds of percussion and tambourine started playing. Men and women were always mesmerized by Johnny’s perfect built, architects and sculptors are dying to make him their inspiration and make him a big statue. Even the beauty of every gold he’s wearing in his body right now has no match for his natural handsomeness and godlike features.

“My son, who has fought many battles for me over my reign since I was declared ill, will be the one who will lead you to peace and victory,” he pats Johnny’s shoulder before he continues and looked to his assistants. “So before a great war starts tomorrow, I present to you this gift,” he nods and signals his assistant to bring it in.

And when people started to make way for the gift, loud grunts, and nonstop whining were heard across the room… while the people just watched the guards drag her in to be presented to the prince. “Amusement my prince,” one of the assistants says and pushed her further in front of the prince.

Johnny then lowered himself to check the gift that's been presented to him. Left and right he turned the girl’s face to admire it, and when he finally smirked because he liked the gift, the girl spits on his face. Loud whispers of shocked people surrounded the room, telling the girl that she has no respect for the prince of Egypt. Of course, Johnny can’t let his people see that it’s alright for a slave to disrespect him, and so he did something… something he’s not going to be proud of but will surely wow the people watching.

He grabbed a glass of wine, drank a mouthful and spit it on the girl’s face in front of everyone, and poured the remaining wine from his cup on her clothes. “Be careful slave” the prince says, pointing a finger that has a big golden ring around it to remind her who she’s talking to. “Dry her off and lock her in my room. Go,” he commands and the guards responded immediately.

The royal banquet carries on without even bothering further about the slave. Everyone drank delicious sweet wine, chattered nonstop about their richest and the things they desire in life and bid the prince of Egypt good night before they all went home.

But even though the night carried on as it should be, his mind can’t stop reminding him about the awful thing he did earlier. And so after the royal banquet, he asked for a tray of fruits and brought it to his room… for you.

Behind the thin curtains of his bed, he sees your silhouette and shook his head as a sign of disappointment to himself before he apologizes to you. He joined you in bed, sat so far away but still, he saw that no one tended to you, that no one helped you or even gave you dry clothes. “Why must you disrespect me like that?” Johnny left the question as he disappears for a minute and returned with a damped cloth and his sleeping robe. He hands it to you because he wouldn’t dare touch you without your permission, but instead of accepting the kindness that the prince is giving to you, you rolled your eyes at him, sat up and kept your distance.

“I’m sorry” he whispers but you heard it. “I may be a fool or I act tough in everyone’s eyes, especially my father’s but my mother did not raise me like that,” he added and reached for the damped clothed and came near you. Johnny wiped your face carefully like he is not the future pharaoh of Egypt and humbling himself for you.

After cleaning your skin, you shamelessly removed your clothes in front of him and looked straight into his eyes to search for lust and to finally finish this long night. And just like those men and women, architects and sculptors who lusted over his body, Johnny… lusted for you.

If you strip away every gold in Johnny’s body tonight, you will see goosebumps around his skin. He very much wants to have you tonight and pleasure himself but he still feels very guilty about what he did earlier. Almost as if he felt that he’s not worthy of you.

“If I give you pleasure tonight and have me as much as you want and as many as you like, will you free me?” you ask crawling near him wearing nothing but a cheap necklace. The prince then caressed your face, traced the curves of your body while looking directly into your eyes, showing you that he wanted to accept your offer so bad but not tonight.

“Tempting. But tonight, you rest” he says softly, trying so hard not to kiss you down the mattress and hurt you so good for the whole night. But even though he would rather do filthy things to you, he reached for his robe and made you wear it to bed. “May I be forgiven before I sleep tonight?” he says, smiling weakly and pushing you slowly to the mattress. He sat next to you while waiting for your answer.

“Only if you forgive me from what I did”

He chuckled and got up from the bed to leave you finally so you could get your rest. “Then it's settled. Let’s start again tomorrow when I come home… if… I’ll still be alive” he says, and left a sweet smile.

They say that men who will go to war the next day never get a peaceful sleep not unless they exhaust themselves from pleasure and eventually sleep like a baby. And that’s when you realized that the prince of Egypt sacrificed his sleep for you. Now you feel even more guilty because you took away his very chance to sleep peacefully for the last time… if he dies in battle tomorrow.

But for Johnny, knowing that he put a decent woman in bed and earned her forgiveness is better than pleasure or getting to enjoy lust before a battle. You were sleeping like a baby, he thought. The whole night he sat on the chair beside his bed, guarding you, and admiring you. Until the sun finally showed up and it's time for him to go.

The battle was bloody as expect but Johnny did not expect that their army will fall on the first day of the war. His soldiers needed to take him back to the palace and protect him from there, even though he wanted to fight until his dying breath. Not run like a coward and let his men die.

The soldiers brought him back safely, but Johnny was not pleased. He arrived at the palace furious and more than angry to his general that he yelled at the nurse who is supposed to treat his wounds and his maids to clean all the blood and dirt on his face and body. Johnny is hurt, physically but his pride is crushed, and that hurts even more than his wounds.

He was repeating the battle plan and their strategy in his mind over and over again to look for holes, to look for people to blame but he just can’t. Until eventually he fell asleep even though he’s in so much pain.

“You” the head of the nurses points at you, “you treat his wounds. Or else his majesty will die because of infection and it will be on your account “ she gave you the things you needed to treat a wound properly, complete expensive materials and ointments to heal the bruises faster but the problem is you don’t how to use them. You’re not stupid and you know a thing or two, but the person whom you’re about to treat is not just anybody, and that makes you nervous alone.

Quietly, you entered his room. It was cold and only a few candles are lit and you see his majesty curled up in a ball. Vulnerable, in pain, and suffering emotionally.

Before you even touch him, this scenario reminded you about his kindness the other night. How he touched you so delicately and how he wiped the traces of expensive wine on your skin so gently. Now it's your turn. You started by stripping off his armor, the golds, and silvers that protect him until he’s exposed with nothing but the minimal cloth that covers his manhood.

Carefully, you wipe away the dirt on his face until his handsomeness is visible again, closely you make sure you did not miss a spot and clean him well. Touching his big arms almost felt like you’re committing a great sin, his chest looked so strong even though it’s covered with bruises now which you’re going to take care of in a few minutes.

Then he wakes up and he sees you treating his wounds.

Glad to see that it’s you who’s taking care of him because for some reason you make him soft. He let out a sharp sigh and in an instant, you were shaking for you thought he will shout at you. But no. “I think I may have a broken bone, can you help me get up?” he weakly asks you.

“O-of course,” you slightly panicked but you did your best to support him with all your strength.

“Give me some water,” he says and you followed, helping him drink so he wouldn’t move too much. "You know you’re not a maid here. You’re a gift. A gift to me” he says sternly like he wanted you to take his pride. “Thank you. For taking care of me in my vulnerable state, sleep beside me I’m in pain”

And without hesitation, you did. This time, it's you who’s guarding him to his sleep. Although it hurts you to watch him suffer like this, you didn’t have a choice but to further take care of him.

On the next day, the nurses treated him the right way and adjusted his broken bones which made him feel better in an instant. You thought you will be released by then because you’re completely useless to his majesty, but you realized that he’s only keeping you for his pleasure and nothing has happened between you two yet.

So in the meantime, you decided to make yourself useful and learn the basics of treating a wound and make sure you know exactly what you’re doing whenever his majesty feels any discomfort.

He healed for days. Did not speak for days. And still, he hasn’t touched you. Oh you wish he would already so you can guarantee your freedom. Your family should be worried by now and probably thinks that you’re already dead. You can’t help but think about your family, your ill father and your younger brothers who need you, in which you can only sigh as you think about it while you take a breather at the palace terrace.

“I bring good news,” a voice disturbed you and your thoughts, “we are winning the war,” he said weakly.

“Ah. But you don’t sound so pleased? May I ask why?” you turned around to face the prince and slowly came closer to him.

“Because I am here resting and healing while my men fight in the war when I should be leading them” the disappointment in his voice is obvious. He pulled you closer to seek comfort, holding you by the waist and keeping himself calm by smelling your unique scent.

“Lead them once more when you’re healed. For now, rest so you can go in battle with them again. You’re next to your father, and if you die on that battlefield then who will lead us?” bravely you soothed his strong back, feeling him shiver once your fingertips made contact with his skin and your warm palm gives him great calm.

“You remind me of one specific person,” he says, and you wonder if it's one of his lovers, “you remind me of my mother. Who is a great queen of Egypt” and right then and there you feel guilty for judging a loving son who respects his mother so much. Hearing those words from him made you happy and proud of yourself because now you feel useful.

He pulls away from his soft embrace and looked deeply into your eyes, asking for permission to do something to you but he’s not saying anything. It’s his eyes who are doing the talking. “You may,” you said and let out a nervous giggle before the prince finally planted a kiss on your lips.

A kiss that’s wet and quick but made your whole body warm and you wish he would kiss you a little longer but who are you to request?

“I’ll take you somewhere private,” he said when he stopped the kiss and smirked.

And so in the middle of the night, you followed the prince to that private place he told you. Hand in hand you walk in the dark, exchanging whispers when you ask him something and he answers you.

“Close your eyes” he whispers and you followed immediately. Feeling him walk away for a few seconds and then he’s right behind you, feeling him motion you towards somewhere. And when you opened your eyes, what you just saw took your breath away.

A sky full of stars shining brightly and beautifully. You can’t take your eyes off of the sky because you’ve never seen anything like this and even though your neck already feels tired from looking up, you look a little bit longer and savor this very moment. “So this is where the prince of Egypt go whenever he’s tired? I assume?” you asked, smiling like a fool because you’re still mesmerized.

“Yes. This is where I think, hum a few songs, and be myself. No judging eyes, no wars- it’s quiet right? The only part of the palace where it’s really quiet. When I become pharaoh my room will be placed here and I will curse who dares to ruin my peace” he giggles to himself and points at the nearly done construction. The future bedroom of the new pharaoh, big, lavish, and peaceful. It suits him.

“I’m so tired of worrying and thinking about the future” he admitted weakly, closing his eyes and resting his head on yours. Embracing you from behind and caging you with his strong arms. Of course, this bold move made you nervous, the prince of Egypt is keeping you in his arms right now, who wouldn’t?

“Then you must rest,” you said and he only hummed and let out soft sighs.

“Can I have not only your lips but your whole being too?” he asked with the utmost care, careful not to offend you or make you feel like a whore. Then suddenly you feel his lips on your skin, cold lips that felt heavenly, soft lips that you imagine to be on yours. but he’s placing sweet kisses on your neck that made you gasp sharply, close your eyes and accept what he’s doing.

With heavy breaths and soft moans, you try so hard to let out a few words “Do you even need to ask? You’re the morning and evening star you should do as you please,” you croak.

And because you have given him your consent, his kisses became intense that you’re sure you felt his teeth brush on your skin. And because of the pretty sounds that he’s making it is very much obvious that he is enjoying himself especially now that his big hands are roaming free around your body. Kneading your breast and telling you that they’re soft while his mouth is near your ear and he nibbles your earlobe as he pleases.

He twirls you and made you face him before he devours your lips once again, kissing you with want and with a mixture of lust while motioning you towards the huge bed. He sat on the edge of the bed, making you stand still in front of him, “Virgin?” he asked shamelessly, you shook your head 'no' shyly. “Shame” he added before he stands up and removes his robe, exposing himself to you. Now you understand why everyone in Egypt lusts for him.

Gently he runs his hands on your shoulder, untying the knot that secures your dress and letting it fall down at your feet. “Beautiful,” he says.

The night wasn’t exactly hot but the prince made you sweat in bed the whole night. He was careful but all the things that he did to you were rough, he was very stressed and tired indeed. The way he kisses you, the way he bites your neck and mark you his, the way he holds you in place while he thrusts so roughly. All you can do is whine deliciously, groan and let out sharp gasps and heavy breaths.

Again, he was rough but you loved everything that he’s doing.

“Last one and I promise to give you rest,” he said with ragged breaths. Lips on the side of your face while his big hands knead your breast from behind and preventing you to fall on the mattress. You arch your back as much you can so you can manage to take the overstimulation and sensitivity but the prince is fucking you good that your knees are about to give up.

When he is so close to his sweet release, he pushed your body on the mattress and slapped your left ass cheek one too many times before he pulls out and pumps his cock away from your hole.

Weak. Tired and aching. You curl your body and hug yourself as you wait for the prince to cover you with his warmth again. But not long after he came down from his sweet release, he is holding you by the ankle and the next thing you know he is hooking his arms around your legs, spreading your folds and running his fingers on your wet slit while watching you lose your mind and beg for him. His tongue was heavenly and he was licking you slow like he’s waiting for you to calm down and accept the pleasure that he’s doing. Up and down, he licked you slow and listened to you wherever you want him on a certain spot. And when you had your sweet release and let out a high pitched moan, you did not beg for him to stop and you chose to overstimulate yourself.

“You sleep in my arms tonight,” he says, kissing you sweetly before he lies beside you and spread one arm to keep you close.

Although you're both exhausted and tired from pleasuring each other, that is not the reason why you and the prince stayed up until the sun is rising. The whole time, he was playing with your fingers, caressing your body and feeling his fingertips glide on your skin while he listens to you. Listening and not just hearing you talk. He was keeping the conversation with you, throwing you a lot of questions, hard and easy ones. It was his first time knowing someone he fucked.

“Tell me more” he says, leaving a kiss on your shoulder as you enjoy your comfort while you lie on your side and admire his godlike features. He was asking for more stories about your childhood because he didn’t have one. He was giving you kisses in exchange for your stories that make him feel alive and present in this world.

“Are you not tired?” you asked him with a smile.

“Talk until I fall asleep” he drags you near him so he can cage you with his strong arms and keep you close until he wakes up. He closes his eyes and waited for you to talk again, drawing small circles on your back so you know that he’s still awake.

“Paint, I love to paint,” you said, and told him stories about how the colors make you feel alive and whenever you paint, you feel free. You were talking and talking and talking until you got too carried away and did not notice that he had finally fallen asleep and you decided you should too.

In his arms, you slept well and dreamt about home. You see how your family welcomed you home and their faces were clear as day, almost as if you’re not dreaming. Ever since the prince showed you kindness, you’ve been sleeping better and for that you are thankful. But for now, your beautiful sleep needed to be disturbed for a very sweet kiss woke you up.

“You smile in your sleep,” the prince says, greeting you good morning and seeing his naked body first thing in the morning. You sat up from the mattress and covered yourself with the Egyptian cotton blanket, squinting your eyes to protect it from the bright sun. “Good morning my gift,” he greets you again, caressing your thigh under the blanket. Oh its too early to commit sin but the way he makes you feel good with his finger is inviting. “Spread your legs,” he says, and so you did.

Up and down he moves his two fingers in your very wet slit, you almost feel sorry for ruining these expensive sheets with your juices, but what can you do? The prince wants you soaked. “You were so amazing last night that I dreamt about you,” he came closer to you and removed his fingers to join you under the blanket and position himself in between your legs.

“You had me under the stars last night, are you going to have me under the sun too?” You asked with a playful tone, giggling under the covers with him and enjoying the closeness of your body. He is a big man, but his warm body feels good on top of you. Skin to skin, chest to chest, while his manhood is inside you. “You’re rather gentle now,” you added, letting out a soft moan and smiling weakly at him.

“It’s too early to be rough” he smiles and grabs your waist, thrusting deeper while he kisses your neck and marks you wherever he wants especially on your chest area, or swipe his tongue on you and devour your sweet lips.

“Thank you, I still ache from last night” you inform him, returning his sweet kisses with a smile and soft giggle that is soon replaced with a delicious moan.

“Apologies then, what do you feel now?” deeper and slower he goes. Making you feel every bit of him by stretching you so good while he holds your hand and kisses them while he thrusts. “Not going to l-last longer” he says and gave you a few sharp thrusts, making your breast bounce then did not hesitate to pull out and pumped his manhood away from you, ruining the expensive sheets with his thick cum.

He feels so warm and weak, groaning while you watch him pump his cock in front of you. What a sight. The prince looked so hot. All naked and glistening as the morning light shines upon him. “Do you know it's a crime to stare at me like that?” He asks with a smile. It was a joke but you can’t help but think that you’re lucky enough to see him like this, to look at him with lustful eyes to hold him whenever it pleases you.

“W-were not yet done?” you ask when you saw him spreading your legs again, oh his stamina is unbelievable. He didn’t answer your question but instead, he kisses your lower abdomen and kissed your body and breasts until he reaches your lips. And there’s that feeling again that the world is stopping whenever his lips touch yours, you like what’s happening and you don’t care if you’re not home anymore. Or maybe that’s the lust talking.

“Where did you learn how to kiss like that” it was not a question, he just simply wanted to let you know that your kisses do something to him. And while kissing you, the prince felt something he has never felt before. He was quite sure that it’s called admiration and want. He is slowly becoming possessive with every swipe of his tongue on your lips, he is slowly falling into your charms with every touch of your hands on his chest and the way your hands roam around like he is yours.

“I know I promised your freedom but can you stay a little longer?” he kisses your hands and kept them close to his heart. A gesture that is saying he is requesting, asking politely, and leaving you the decision because he respects you.

“I’ll stay” you answered without hesitation because it is what your heart wants. He has been nice to you, although he needed to put an act first but his true colors were inviting. “With two conditions,” you added, stopping him from attacking you with kisses.

“No lies and don’t die whenever you go to war,” you said sternly to which he’s very happy to hear.

After that beautiful morning, you and the prince spend your entire day naked in his comfortable bed, enjoying the lovely weather of Egypt and its calm breeze. Talking and exchanging stories, knowing each other deeper and accepting each other through honesty.

Then night after night the prince have you on every corner of his room or wherever he pleases. Making beautiful and lustful memories all around the palace. And whenever you’re both clothed and decent, he walks with you and shows everyone that you now have a special place in his life, something you’re never going to get used to but slowly it sinks in. You started dressing up in expensive clothes because he says so, giving you expensive jewelry all around your wrists and your neck. But most importantly, he is giving you more reasons to stay with him.

One fine day while you were waiting for Johnny with a book in your hand, he arrived very excited and was in a rush to bring you somewhere. Perhaps another secret place where he can fuck you? Or a surprise picnic? You really have no clue. But when you finally arrived at the place where he is very much excited to show you, every wild guess disappeared for you know exactly what the place is for.

Different colors of vibrant pigments, all came in different sizes. Paintbrushes from small to big ones made with soft hairs. And the canvas… is the place itself. “Johnny, this place is huge. I feel so small,” you said, feeling dizzy with how high the walls are but you are very much excited to paint on those.

“Paint all you want from now on, I know how you miss your home. I hope this will suffice” he gently pats your head, cup your face, and kissed you. “I have to go somewhere… dangerous again” he informs you, hoping to get a positive reaction from you.

Well, you can’t stop him and you know that all too well. You were quiet and if you’re being honest you don’t know what to say, but you do know that you want him to go home in one piece. “Remember your promise,” is all you can say to him.

“I won’t die” he giggles and intertwines your fingers with his.

When the prince left the next morning, you can’t help but worry for him and be scared that something bad might happen. But whenever you remember his bright smile when he promised you he won’t die, your heart warms instantly and you can finally get on with your day.

Using the gifts that the prince left you, you painted for hours and hours, from sun up until sundown. Sleeping on the floor next to the paints rather than the huge and comfortable bed because you can’t handle the cold there. And whenever you’re taking a rest from painting, you still spend your time alone rather than make friends and talk to the maids.

It was lonely when Johnny is not around. You don’t know when will he arrive, and worrying will do no good so you waited patiently instead. Day after day you did the same things. Paint, eat alone, be alone, paint some more and sleep on the cold floor.

Until finally, a pair of arms surprised you, encircled perfectly on your waist and you can finally feel that familiar warmth again. You put down the paintbrush and tried turning around to welcome him home with kisses but he stopped you. “I look filthy” he said, but you did not care and still turned around.

To your surprise, you almost did not recognize him. His face is full of dirt and blood, small and big bruises on his face but thankfully no broken bones this time. He was quiet. No sweet kisses for you and obviously he’s tired. “We both look dirty” he giggles and reached for your hand to wipe off the paint from it, “what you did here is beautiful” he said and pulls you to a hug which you returned without having second thoughts.

He recognizes your paintings. He is sure that it's from your home, memories from home to keep you happy perhaps. Johnny searched for anything or something that says you missed him too while he’s away, perhaps a sunflower? But he found none. Little did he know, that you missed him terribly too that you chose to sleep on the floor.

After your quick reunion, you washed his face, treated his wounds and decided to take a warm bath together. The silence was deafening and so you talked and talked until he finally says something.

“Do I make you happy?” he asks sincerely while scrubbing your back and pouring warm water on your skin. Bathing with him brings you a different kind of calm. You nod your head ‘yes’ to answer his question, caressing his thighs underwater. Then you feel him kiss your neck softly and encircle his arms on your waist underwater.

“I’m setting you free” he says.

And those words made your heart ache in an instant that you turned and faced him with worried eyes. You should be happy by now because finally you can be free and see your family, but why are you sad? He just came back and now you’re going to be separated again?

“But” he added which made you nervous even more.

“It pains me to let you go. That’s why I promise to take care of you and love you day and night… if you choose to stay” you always see him as an honest and sincere man but now his sincerity is different. It has a mixture of hurt and hopelessness like he already knew you’re going to leave him that’s why he made such an offer and confessed in the middle of a huge bathroom and while taking a bath.

“A few months ago, I told you I’ll stay and that’s not because I’m doing you a favor but because I really wanted to stay with you. I’m still choosing to stay-“

He cut you off with sweet kisses until water splashed on you and him, there are tears in his eyes but it wasn’t visible because of the water. Happy tears that only you can give him.

And that is how your story with Johnny started. It started with doing what your heart wants with all honesty, choosing to love each other and stay together. After that very momentous bath, he became Johnny to you and not the prince of Egypt, but the man you chose to love from now on.

YEARS LATER

Life with Johnny was never easy but it was full of love and he had kept his promise. Everyday, day and night he loved you more and more each day. And eventually, fucking was replaced by passionate love making which something you both love doing.

“So good” he groans and lets out soft moans while you bounce your body on top of him, driving him crazy and make him beg for more. You intertwined your fingers with his, sucking his fingers while your roll your hips deliciously. He can be rough with you in order to drive him mad, but you, you need only lustful eyes, your womanhood, and your tongue.

“Ooooh-“ he groaned a little louder than before and shoots his thick cum inside you while you drill your hips make sure you won’t miss a drop. “I hope you get pregnant this time” he said with ragged breaths, encircling his arms around you and placed sweet kisses on your face and on your lips.

You’ve been trying to have a child now but the gods are not in favor of it, so you and Johnny decided to try until you succeed. Usually, one round is not enough for the both of you but when you both realized that it’s going to be like this forever, there is no need to exhaust yourselves anymore because you can simply make love again tomorrow.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how many babies are we going to have in the future?” your question made him laugh. The sound of his giggles vibrates on your body because you’re too close with each other and you can’t help but laugh with him too.

“A lot,” he simply answers your question and kisses you before he covers your body with a thicker blanket.

Life with Johnny is sweet, not because you’re now comfortable and he showers you with gold. But because he showers you with the love you deserve and he now takes care of your family too and even provided your father’s medicine. Even though you haven’t seen them in years, now they know that you’re in good hands for you write to them and let them know that you’re well. But for Johnny’s safety, you didn’t dare tell them that you are in a relationship with him.

It may be sweet and comfortable for you, but it is not always like this. Of course, there are hard times that you have to face with Johnny. Like when his advisors see you as his whore and not someone whom he truly loves, when his father did not accept you and almost took away Johnny’s right to the throne, and when you planned on running away so the people around him can stop doubting him as the future ruler. All these problems but Johnny chose you. Always.

“I love you”

He whispers and caressed your face while watching you sleep. Having one last look before he starts his day without you and faces yet another stressful day.

Now that his coronation is getting near, many people have been seeking his attention and had been trying to rebel against him. He may be a great fighter, and he honors the throne, but the people around him do not see him as someone who can rule and solve the nation’s problems.

Heartbroken. That’s what he feels when he thinks about being king in the next few weeks.

“My uncle and cousins are active lately, seeking the people of Egypt’s hearts, courting them, and feeding them lies. My own family... is planning to overthrow me” he informs you. Frustrated and stressed beyond you could have ever imagined. It pains you to see him like this.

“I am no advisor. But be strong my love and still do your best to rule, prove them wrong” you encourage him, trying your best to give him strength. But all he gave you is a sly smile and a kiss on the forehead, leaving you to go and study more about the things he should know for his kingdom until eventually, you find him asleep on his desk. Shivering from a cold night and all you can do is put a blanket around him.

After a few weeks, Johnny is crowned king of Egypt. A celebration that’s very beautiful but you’re not allowed to stand near him because you’re a slave and people will recognize you. But you know all too well that Johnny imagines you being on his side.

They say that the crown is naturally heavy but if it weighs too much that even your heart can’t carry it, then you are not fit to rule. And that is exactly what Johnny feels right now, but trying is the most important thing for him. Running away from his duty is not him. He will continue to try and be a better pharaoh than his father.

“Where have you been?” you giggle and soothe his strong arms that are encircled around your waist. Accepting the kisses he’s giving to you for it has been far too long since the last time you’ve been together alone. He had been working hard for his nation, he looked tired than ever.

“It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful” he says while looking at the sunflowers you painted on the walls. A thousand sunflowers for the gods, in exchange for Johnny’s safety… or a child, if they permit. “I visited our room last night, but you weren’t there. I knew you were here but I needed to go already. I’ve missed you so much” he turned your body so he could see you finally, cleaning your hands full of paint with his own clothes. A gesture that simply tells you that whenever he’s with you he’s just a simple man who loves you so much and not the king of Egypt.

“I’ve been sleeping on the floor. I’m in a rush to finish this so I can finally offer something to the gods and they can grant me my wish” you rake his long hair away from his face.

“Now, now, that’s not how a future queen of Egypt should behave, my love” he smirked and you rolled your eyes, picking up the used paintbrushes and cleaning them.

Then you realized he said something.

“Say that again, my love” you request as you watch him come closer to you with a smile. “Was that a question? You never addressed me as someone-“

“Will you marry me? Be the queen of Egypt and become my wife? Be my best advisor, help me to be a better man?” he finally said it. Straight forward and will all honesty, as always.

“Y-yes. Of course, I would like to be your wife. But your people won’t allow it,” you answered excitedly. Eyes with tears that continuously flow. He cupped your face and thanked you for saying yes, not caring about your concern for he doesn’t care what others will say.

The celebration of being engaged is continued in your shared room with wine, fruits, hope, and dreams. It was a night a fun night with your future husband where you enjoy the company of each other after such a long time. Johnny made sure that you made the right decision and promised you a better life.

“What more could be better? We have everything already Johnny” you put a grape in his mouth before you lie beside him.

“What was your prayers to the gods again?” he asks, out of nowhere. To be honest you did not expect he would be interested. “Maybe I can give it to you instead?” he added and it instantly made your heart full.

“My first prayer is, for your safety wherever you go. Nothing scares me the most than knowing that wherever you go, your life is always in danger my love” he tightens his embrace, silently thanking the gods for bringing you into his life.

“And the second?”

You breathe deeply first before you answer him, “A baby… but your safety comes first” you said sternly, pointing at his chest and drilling your pointer finger on his skin so he knows how scared you are. He caught your hand and kiss it one too many times.

“I love you, I promise to be careful so we can make babies during our marriage,” he promised sincerely.

On the next day, Johnny’s first agenda was to tell everyone about the good news. At least its a good news for him, but not for everyone. His father, advisors and other members of the elite society were disappointed upon hearing that he wants to marry a slave.

When Johnny became king, all of Egypt starved. That’s why everyone thinks that being married to a slave and throwing a big wedding is not appropriate.

“Do you think I’m a pushover? I am the morning and evening star, your king, and I kept this nation together and kept it safe with all my power. You owe me your lives. And I am not seeking your approval, I am simply telling you that I am to be married to the woman I love. Besides, I don’t want to see your faces on my wedding day and ruined it for me”

Silence ate the room and only the sound of afternoon winds surrounds the room. “Dismissed” he commands and they immediately left, leaving Johnny alone with his thoughts.

The wedding was simple and private because it is what you wanted and thankfully Johnny is not a fan of grand celebrations too. You both thought that the gods will spare your wedding day and give you a peaceful day just this once. But no, because a murder took place in the palace and it happened while you and Johnny are enjoying your wedding night.

He is deep inside you, thrusting roughly but with care at the same time. Hands on your waist to keep you in position as he fucks you from behind and leave kisses on your shoulders.

You were moaning so good, while you grip the sheets and part your lips, telling your husband how you feel and beg for more.

Until his advisors entered the room uninvited and have no care for privacy. Johnny quickly covered your body and hid you behind him. “YOU HAVE NO RESPECT!” He shouted so loud that you were sure everyone in the palace heard him.

But still, his advisors did not move an inch and waited for him to stop shouting.

“Our king... y-your parents have been murdered”

And that is when everything turned black in Johnny’s eyes. He put on his robe, ran towards his parent's room and saw the gruesome murder.

He didn’t understand why but he was heartbroken and very much angry that he punished all the guards on duty that night and everyone staying at the palace except you.

Well, you wouldn’t think that you’re not being punished. You’ve been feeling sick for days already and you have been having morning sickness more often. Then you realized you haven’t bled yet and immediately called a nurse, a good friend whom you can trust to confirm if you are with child.

You are.

And that is your punishment. Knowing that your prayer has been answered but Johnny is grieving and is away from you. Not seeing your husband and knowing that he’s out there punishing people, punishing innocent people makes your heart break. Apparently, asking for a peaceful life is too much.

Finally, Johnny found out who plotted his parent’s murder. And it is no other than his cousins who wanted him to give up the throne. And because of that, his anger grew much worse. Now he does not only punish people but also put them to death for Johnny believes that he is being betrayed by the people around him.

It has become the darkest time in Egypt.

“The is the only place that I can show my weak and grieving side. I’m so tired, my love. This is not me but all of Egypt is mad and wants to kill me. What can I do?” You hush him and gave him a tight embrace which he accepted and returned. “Do you want to kill me too?” He asks you and you can’t believe you’re hearing this from him.

“Never. I did not paint a thousand sunflowers for the gods so that I can wish you to be gone” you sat on his lap and reached for his hand, putting it above your belly. Hoping that he understands what you’re saying.

He did. But he wasn’t happy.

And all you can do is understand him because he is going through so much right now.

“The gods must hate me so much to give us a child during these dark times” he said bitterly.

You didn’t have a choice but to get up from his lap and place a kiss on his temple. You may miss him. So much. But it is useless to have a conversation with someone who’s full of hatred towards the world.

“I’m sorry, my love. I’m blinded with anger” he tried reaching for your hand but you refuse and lie on your side of the bed. Closing your eyes and remembering the happy memories you had with him over the years.

“Do you know what’s on my mind?” you did not answer him, “I would like to give up the throne and live a simple and fruitful life with you but I can’t. Kings don’t run away from battles” he says. Keeping you close and leaving kisses on your clothed stomach. Chanting apologies and saying how much he loves you before you both sleep.

Day after day, Johnny became even more scared for you and especially for your child. Now that you have a chance to be a family, Johnny is even more obsessed with fixing everything using his own ways but everything is not going according to plan. The assassins weren’t satisfied yet and they have been killing innocent people that Johnny trusts. And his cousins won’t admit the crime that they have been doing for Johnny lacks proof. It frustrates him greatly.

Now that you’re with child he stays with you from sun up, to sundown. He doesn’t care if people are uncomfortable with seeing the king with a slave, all that matters now is your safety. He is scared to the bone that he carries his sword around him and does not go to sleep so he could guard you in your sleep.

“I used to do this during your first nights here. I guard you in your sleep and watch you smile as you dream. But that’s maybe because back then we have peace. I’m sorry I can’t give you a peaceful life”

As Johnny continues to think of many ways on how to protect you, he kept you hidden in your museum and watched you paint. It calms him. And as he looks around the place, he looked long and hard at your artwork and remember the days when you used to miss home. Then he realized that it is the only way to keep you safe. The only problem is you will not agree on it.

“You do know that when I leave and they found out that you’re all alone now, they will not stop until they kill you then take your throne” you said sternly. Hearing his plan about sending you home makes you angry and misses him already.

“As long as I fight until the end. The only way to stop them and keep you safe is to give them the satisfaction of killing me. No one knew about our child, please listen to me my love. This is the only way that I can give our child a peaceful life” he begs.

You don’t want to admit that he is right and you don’t have any other choice now. But leaving him pains you greatly, that even just thinking about it scares you.

Eventually, you and Johnny plotted your escape and made you go home safe. With the help of your family and a few soldiers, they managed to get you out of the palace without anyone noticing it. But you can’t let go of Johnny’s hand. You kissed and kissed until there's no more time left to be together. You said your goodbyes and final promises to each other and accept your fate.

“I’ll find you in our second life, whatever happens. Live my love, live happily” he says and removed your tight grip before he disappears with his soldiers. And that is your last memory of the man you loved.

It was the darkest moment for the both of you.

Johnny knew that being away from you will not be easy and it will make him weak in an instant. In fact, it made him crazy. Everyday, he goes to your museum and seeks comfort with your paintings. Constantly thinks about you and pray that you are well and healthy.

“Finally, you’re safe” he murmured.

After a few days, the news that the king is dead has spread all across Egypt and everyone celebrated. Everyone except you and the few people who knew the truth about the assassination in the palace. Hearing them celebrate sickens you for they don’t know how Johnny struggled to keep his nation alive and safe and that he is not the enemy, the true enemy is the one sitting on the throne now.

Hearing that he was assassinated in your museum broke your heart for you knew that he longed for you until his dying breath.

After all, the thousand sunflowers you painted for the gods did not go to waste. But it was your second wish that they granted and not the first.

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doctorslippery · 3 years

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The Pillar of First Blood – A 15ft dark stone pillar that has engraved writing on each side ‘The spot where the first blood was split between a batch of common devils”.

The Drawing Moss – A smooth stone with a bunch of growing moss on it. Touching the stone with a bare hand results in the moss slowing moving to wherever was touched. On the stone are several handprints and doodles perfectly covered over with the moss.

Curci’s Crypt – A small white stone structure deep in the woods with carvings of trees on each side. Entering brings you into the hidden crypt of Curci.

The Crumbling Shack – Far away from any civilization lays what once was a small shack. The windows are broken, some walls have crumbled away, and parts of the roof are open and fallen in.

Trio of Faces – On the side of a rocky cliff are a well carved trio of protruding faces all looking the same direction

Cone Shaped Prison – In the middle of a grassy field stands an 8ft slim cone made of iron bars, in the middle of the structure lies a sun-bleached skeleton bound in iron shackles.

The Tree of Sacrifice – A abnormally large and oddly pale brown tree where the branches are twisted, and the leaves are a sickly saturated green color. At the base of the tree lies a blood stained alter that the roots of the tree have grown around it and now hold it in place. The base of the tree as well as the ground around the alter are permanently stained a deep red. If the tree is cut, a thick blood sap seeps out of wound. If a creature is sacrificed on the alter, the blood pools near where the roots touch the alter and are absorbed while what appear to be veins appear on the tree that go up into the branches.

The Bone Pit – In an open field there is a 10ft wide and 50ft deep pit with no life growing around it. The walls of this chasm are lined with dark cobblestone and going down there are three uneven sized holes that are covered by iron bars. At the bottom there are a large pile of bones.

The Odd Stone Slab – A big square stone slab rests hidden near the side of the road. Carved into the slab is a symbol and a riddle that upon answering correctly leads to a small dungeon.

The Copper Fox – A 4ft oxidized copper statute of a fox with a small locked box in its mouth and two ruby eyes.

The Pointing Eagle – On top of a large rock formation is a big iron statue of an eagle pointing its body to the east.

The Feasting Table – Out away from any kind of civilization sits a large gray solid stone table with ancient carvings on the sides. Upon its surface are newly lit candles and a banquet of food that seems to be warm, fresh, and untouched by its surroundings. If one where to eat or take anything from the table, the next day it would be completely restocked and replenished.

The Jeweled Bush – A seemingly average looking berry bush that happens to grow small jewels instead of berries. If one where to try and consume one of the jewels picked off of the bush within 24hrs, that person gains a temporary magical effect or bonus, otherwise it’s a normal jewel.

The Ice Blood Spot – Located on the cliff face of a large mound of ice there is one spot that is dark red instead of the pure blue that surrounds it.

Dragon’s Graveyard – in a valley, there are 8-10 adult dragon skeletons, half-buried.

Petunia, the Land Whale – A large whale skeleton surrounded by petunias. The whale is miles away from the sea and the petunias aren’t native to this location.

Wondrous Obelisk – an obelisk, comprised of rose quartz and decorated with sylvan runes, appears to be of fey origin. it is surrounded in a 120-foot field of wild magic.

The Old Folk Hero – A half erected statue of an old folk hero. Either under construction or half crumbled.

The Hope Tree – It’s an oak tree with the word hope carved into it in large letters. No one knows who did it or why, but it’s turned into a useful landmark for the local village.

The Moon’s Egg – It’s a massive dome-like stone formation that shines pearlescent in the moonlight. It lays in a bare outcropping of rock and is warm to the touch.

Hollering Pit – A 50ft deep sinkhole. Well-hidden at the bottom is the lair of an accomplished burglar who calls himself the Jeweler. He’s too old to do much in the way of harm, but the countless traps he installed are not.

The Painted Cliff Face – A cliff that has been entirely covered in paint from hundreds of people.

Threeshades Tower- A weathered, ivy-mantled square tower atop a small hill. Has three levels, and each is built from a different kind of stone. The longsword stuck in one of the bricks on the top level is +1 and can project the bearer’s voice up to 50’ away.

Pigeons’ Chest – an ornate, but empty, chest of silver and pearl sitting by the road. It will not move by any means yet discovered, material nor magical.

The Ol’ Inn – The ancient ruins of a strangely ‘modern-looking’ tavern located in the deepest patches of forest. No path leads to it, no other buildings or ruins are found besides it, but dozens of deformed footsteps can be found heading out of the site. At night, the faint, muffled sound of a single viol can be heard coming out of the muddy floor.

The Forgotten Emperor’s Statue – An incredibly detailed, broken bust of a young wood elf, bearing a red crown. Its nose and left ear are missing and where its left eye should be, the socket is destroyed, and a monstrously decomposed snake eye can be found. The base has a bronze plaque which reads (in broken Celestial): ‘The only one truly meant to rule’, followed by a name which seems scratched out.

The Candle Trees – deep in the woods, a small group of trees whose leaves are bright red. They contrast starkly with the normal trees around them. The Candle trees appear otherwise normal, but the dried leaves can be brewed into a tea that warms the bones even on the coldest nights.

Tale of a Desert’s Origin – A granite obelisk in the desert with glyphs on it. It seems to tell the tale of a very powerful magic user stealing all the life from this area, killing all the plants and turning it into a desert.

The Waning Waterfall – a small waterfall that appears to reverse direction on every night with a bright full moon, running up instead of down.

The Sandmount – There’s a strange dune of sand in the middle of this grassy field, covered in scorpions.

The Awoken Stones – three stone pillars at the top of a hill, each engraved with a different rune of no known language. The pillars appear to change positions, but how this is done is unknown.

Ghost village – There’s a half-buried village in the sand, with sandstone walls being the only remnants… except for one house, which has a simple roof and door carved into the stone.

Impossible Shipwreck – Dashed upon the rocks are the remains of a large merchant ship. Weathered and ancient, the skeletons of the crew still scattered around though most everything of value has long since been looted. The most peculiar thing about this is that the rocks, and ship, are in a cavern 100ft underground, miles from the nearest navigable waters.

Sapphire Beach – a small stretch of coastline hidden between two nigh-inaccessible cliff faces. The sand is particularly fine and a brilliant blue. Rumor has it that the sand was formed when giants destroyed the jewel horde of a local dragon. There are also rumors of a dragon being sighted in the oceans nearby. Digging deep into the sands turn up giant bones.

The Lovers’ Spring – a secluded hot spring, with the initials of many young lovers carved into nearby rocks. Discarded and forgotten undergarments can be found on tree branches in the area.

The Arms of the Last Bard – A broken but thick 15ft wide half-circle embedded to the ground made of quartz and intricately laced with gold strips. An assortment of precious gems are embedded in its surface. Any attempt to collect and/or destroy this construct will cause severe psychic damage and a loud high-pitched tone to play loudly. The half-circle aligns perfectly with sunset/sunrise and every time it does, the most beautiful flute melody plays that is sourceless.

The Iron Tree – A big, old tree which seems to be made of iron, but as far as anyone can tell, is alive and growing, if slowly.

Hades’ Hand – A 15ft tall stone hand stretches from the ground, reaching for the sky.

The Stone Toad – A gigantic stone carving of a toad’s head, crumbling, half-buried, and covered in moss.

The Wrecked Ship – The sun-bleached wreckage of a ship that ran aground long ago. Inside the hull is a massive cage with thick steel bars that appear to have been smashed outward from the inside.

The Three-Sided Tower – A half-collapsed stone tower with curious triangular architecture. The bones of a lonely watchman sitting in a chair lie atop it. The watchman wears a helmet shaped like a triangular pyramid. Several towers of this type can be found around the same area.

Giant’s Playground – this field is entirely stone, and many massive footprints can be seen stomped into it. There are boulders laying around, some cracked.

The Fallen Hero – The legs of a giant metal statue standing beside the top of a waterfall overlooking the valley below. At the bottom of the lake below the falls, the head and torso can be found. It appears to be the likeness of a famous ancient hero that a PC might recognize.

The Charity Cave – A cave with a chest that says, ‘if you take something, leave something.’ It’s unlocked and has several trinkets inside.

The Eye of the Moon – on top of this hill is a pool surrounded with stone. The water is always cool, and at night the full moon can always be seen in its reflection, regardless of clouds or moon cycle.

Bigfoot – A large tree in the forest that bends and splits in such a way that the bottom looks like a foot, with toes.

Goddess of Death Statue – A worn smooth but still recognizable ancient statue of a goddess of death. At her feet sets a black stone bowl filled with fresh rose petals. If you were to kneel down at the bowl and look up at her, you would see her eyes stare unwaveringly into yours.

The Red Altar – in the middle of a copse in a strange swamp lies a smooth altar made of red stone, with strange carvings of trees and water all around its base. Upon touching the altar, you will hear a voice in your mind ‘sacrifice”, and you will feel a strange primal urge to sacrifice a creature on top of it.

Timnar’s Beard – A copse of trees growing in a single spot on an otherwise barren mountain. Unbeknownst to the world, it is the burial place of a great wizard of earthen magics. It is watched over by a trio of stone golems and a handful of slumbering treants to guard the immense knowledge held within the tomb.

The Sundered Mount – a mountain that appears to have been cleaved in two and creating two crumbling peaks with a narrow cut of a valley between them. It does not appear naturally created.

The Mage Wastes – A region where fertile grassland suddenly stops and abruptly becomes a barren wasteland of decaying grass and reddish soil. It seems as if it was the sight of some magical battle. The ground is pocked with craters and scorch marks, yet it seems as if this battle was an ancient long finished, but the battlefield has remained a wasteland frozen in time.

The Dragons Maw – A series of jutting tooth like spires of black igneous rock which rise out from the sea. These “teeth” have proven to be an extreme hazard to sailors and shipping which pass too near to them. Tearing hulls and ripping sails.

The Gods Sacrament Statue -A old weathered statue of a god with beautiful gems inlaid and surrounded with wicker basket offerings of gold, flowers, food, and trinkets. Stealing from the statue result in a curse (permanent level of exhaustion) from the deity until either greater restoration is cast on the thief or they repent and make an offering of twice the amount stolen. Award inspiration for respectful offerings or prayers given to the statue.

The Dragonblood – A massive artwork carved into a boulder placed some ways away from the banks of a nearby river. The artwork seems to depict a struggle between giants and dragons, with the giants as the victors. The faintly red runes which line it are giantish, and anyone who can decipher them will read that it marks a momentous battle between giants and dragons, over which should decide the course of the river.

The Daughter of the Sun – An enormous stone of a singular soft yellow color. It is hot to the touch but by day it is warm and comfortable simply standing near it. By night however the stone begins to glow brightly, illuminating its surroundings in radiant golden light. Large chips of the same stone can be found in the foliage growing around it. With similar glowing properties.

Would you kindly -A sentient door in the side of a mountain that has short term memory loss. He has no idea of his name or how to open himself but enjoys talking with travelers none the less. Speaking the magic word “please” will cause the door to open revealing a shortcut through the mountain. No form of magic or otherwise can lead through or get around this door without speaking the magic word due to an ancient magical barrier.

The Bread Boy – a small statue in a park depicting a street urchin. In one hand he has what is left of a small loaf of bread. With the other hand he is spreading crumbs for the birds, so they do not go hungry too. A place where the street kids gather.

Sculpture Garden – a small clearing in a forest, near a cave mouth, contains dozens of statues of humanoid creatures, many armed & armored, all with looks of surprise & horror on their stone faces.

Saben’s Cauldron – a large, circular pool off of a main river which is geothermally heated.

The Teeth – a series of vaguely conic stone spires lined up along a gentle arc. Each is over 15ft tall and 5ft across at the base, and tapers to a narrow tip. Nobody knows the origin of this formation. Some say the teeth are all that remains from some colossal dragon skeleton, others think the stones were placed there by a dragon cult, or as a sign from Bahamut.

Mage-Crater – a 120ft diameter crater. Now filled with water and inhabited by pond creatures.

The Old Man – a natural rock formation that just happens to look like the face of an old man with a long beard. Ruins of temples from several ancient civilizations can be found in the valley below, apparently attracted there to worship the face, or perhaps just to be under his watchful gaze. Most humanoid races in the region are sure the old man looks like their race and have their own legend about him.

The Deino Flats -roughly 40 acres of salt flats. A long dried up saltwater marsh from ancient times.

Grand Defender – a large, symmetrical hill where the site of a great battle once was. Stone rubble and ruins barely peaks out from the top. Flowers are left there every so often.

The Adventurers Billiard Hall – A stone statue of a Local adventurer rests on a green glass dome in the center of a public lake. The dome is lit gently from beneath. Somewhere nearby lies a dilapidated entrance which runs through a small puzzle focused dungeon.

Turned-Inn – An inn that has been carefully constructed to appear as if it was turned upside-down.

The Signposts – A collection of several dozen poles each with a dozen or more signs mounted to them pointing towards various distant lands, nearby businesses, and bizarre joke locations. It started with travelers who erected a signpost pointing to their distant homelands which other travelers added to. Eventually it got out of hand.

Worm’s Desert – A small sandy desert only a couple hundred acres in size of so. A great desert-making worm arrived from another world and sought to covert the world into an ecosystem like its home but caught a local disease it was unresistant to and died before it made much progress. The residual poison from the worm’s body deters plants from overtaking the sand.

Lightning Lab – A bizarre building with a strange mushroom-shaped metal lattice on top. It was the lab of a researcher studying non-magical electricity who died from electrocution.

The Sandlot – A square of property with no building where children come to play. A greedy landlord raised the rent on a long-term elderly tenant when they purchased the property, driving the tenant into poverty and eventually death. The tenant cursed the land with dying breath that no-one would never profit from the property. Every future tenant was driven out by terrifying haunts, and eventually the building was burned down.

Dwarven Monument – An enormous high relief of six dwarven warriors cut from a cliff pointing the way along, commemorating their epic journey.

Atlas Boulders A series of differently sized large stone spheres far too large for a man to lift. The strongest giants would lift them to prove their strength. They sometimes move, so perhaps the giants still use them.

Ancient Battlefield – ramparts, high hills, and trenches filled with water that stretch for mile marking the location an ancient battlefield. It has grown over.

The Epicenter – A large swath of woods where all the trees in a massive circle have been bent at a 90-degree angle towards the center but continue to grow that way. There is nothing (currently) anomalous at the center, but a powerful coven of druids hold it as one of their holiest places and guards it closely.

Ol Demons Place – a once portal to the abyss, sealed by hero’s long ago, now just a crumbling arch with an unsettling aura.

The Broken Hill – a hill that you need to walk uphill to get to and walk uphill to get away from.

The Rooster of Mourning – An enormous statue of a rooster, made from a strange metal, finely detailed and colored. It is hollow, and when the first ray of sunrise strikes it, a great, sad-sounding crow arises from it. Legend says that it commemorates a great battle in the distant past.

The Angry Spot – a small stone platform on the top of a hill, standing on the platform makes a person irrationally angry. Barbarians may involuntarily rage as a result.

The Alter of a Thousand Arms. – At a crossroads sits an unusual statue, made of stone it stands over 10 feet tall and has arms sticking out in every direction with their palm turned upwards. In nearly every hand there is a candle, some still lit but most are fully melted. Placing a candle in one of the hands and lighting it will give the player the blessing of ‘A helping hand.’ When a player next fails a roll, they may roll an additional d6 and add it to their total.

The Weeping Sister – A fifteen-foot statue of a girl unmarred by time. Next to her are the shattered remains of another statue, close enough that the body may have once held her outstretched hand. The feet of this larger statue are all that remain affixed to the earth – the rest is scattered throughout the clearing. Water, clean and pure, travels down her face in steady rivulets but leaves no erosion there.

The Sensible Stone Head -a large stone head protruding from the surface of a glacier. It is the head of an earth elemental and if you get his attention, he is friendly. If asked what he is doing their he replies ”swimming in the river”, given he exists at a geological place the slow flow of the glacier is like a river to him.

Glass Tree – A fairly tall an elaborate tree made entirely out of glass raises from the earth, at its base there is a plaque written in dwarven, it’s to commemorate a dwarf leader who fell in battle.

The Titan’s Blade – A 50 ft rust covered sword driven into the earth. The whole area has a magical aura and no wildlife lingers within a quarter mile of the sword.

The Well of Good Tidings – A well by the side of the road that is a base in a local hafling tradition that if one where to lose a tooth, that it is to be tossed in the well with a tip of the hat. When doing so, good fortune is sure to come. Characters that throw in teeth later find small amounts of wet coins in various locations on their person. Characters that throw rubbish, or are otherwise disrespectful of the well, find their respective objects on their person once more soaking wet and covered in bite marks.

Skilltown – A small but clearly once-bustling town lays abandoned inside of a titan’s skull. The skull is half buried in the sand; its eye sockets and mouth aim up at an angle. Walking through its mouth is the only way to enter the town. The skull looks to be that of an enormous version of whatever scariest creature lives in that area. It provides ample shade during most of the day.

Best Rest Graveyard – A cleric once prayed over a graveyard that all within would ‘rest well.’ Now anyone who falls asleep in that graveyard has the best night of sleep they’ve ever had.

Bird Hill – a grassy hill of noticeable height rises from the otherwise flat plains. On the hill are several lines of cobblestone that do not grow grass and have no discernible pattern from the surface. If flying, however, you see the cobblestone lines form the shape of a bird, along with some arcane symbols. If you happen to look up during the spring or fall, you’ll see migratory birds alter their course to fly over this hill.

Stairway to Nowhere – All that remains of an ancient fortress, the remarkably well constructed staircase rises for 3 stories out of the ground at the end of an ancient road, and then just abruptly stops.

The Crossroads – This is the place where four kingdoms meet. The main road for each lead to a massive stone pillar. Many years ago, all four kingdoms were at war, and a pillar was placed there as a symbol that none from neighboring kingdoms would be allowed to cross. It is now an annual meeting place for the four to discuss their continued amnesty.

Cloudland Canyon – It’s a canyon nestled in a northern mountain range that’s so high even the base of the canyon is a higher elevation than most of the other mountains in this world. Wondrously magical things occur here.

Stone Tree Garden – It was a garden from a former ancient culture, which vanished out of unknown reasons. One of the only things found was this tree garden. Are the trees made of stone or turned to, no one knows.

‘The Circle’ -There once was a meteorite which crashed into the land. The first to arrive found weird writing in a (Insert required size) diameter circle. No one could read what was written. In the center of the circle, where the meteor should have been, there was nothing, not even a small crater.

The Well – A seemingly normal well on the top of a hill. Anything that is placed into it is immediately tossed out of it.

The Pariah’s Mountain -One mountain among an otherwise unimpressive range, its only defining feature is its completely upside down. The base measures about 60ft across, but the peak 3,000ft up is easily a mile across. Stairs may have been carved into the side, but the climb down to the summit (or is it up to the base? The locals aren’t quite sure) is precarious at times. The locals are also similarly vague when asked about what’s on top…

Worried stones – A group of 3 standing stones with anxiety. When encountered in their clearing, they will disappear once all eyes are off them. Careful inspection will reveal them to hiding nearby – peeking from behind a nearby tree, bottom of a lake, hidden by bushes, behind where the party is now looking, etc. If discovered, they disappear again if not observed. The stones are not malicious, and do not harm the party. They would just rather you all left them to it, thank you.

The Quiet Creek – An otherwise ordinary creek that runs through a forest. It is abnormally quiet near the stream, in such that there is almost no echo around it, and it is surprisingly hard to hear from a distance. All along its course stand small boulders, almost fully grown over with moss.

The Shifting Hills – A large field of hills, dotted with rocks, grasses, and flowers. Careful study has found the hills are constantly moving, as though old creatures crawl along under a carpet of earth. Magics which call upon the earth always seem to produce unexpected results when among them.

The Devil’s Wager – A large disc shaped stone at the base of a long dormant volcano. Visitors toss a copper at it for good luck. There are a couple hundred copper around it. It is considered extraordinarily bad luck to take the coppers.

The Swordleaf Trees – there is a patch of trees here with a non-stop turbulent wind rustling the leaves and branches violently. The leaves’ edges appear to be razor sharp.

Beacon Mountain – A mountain that, on some nights, has a bright ball of light form over it which slowly dissipates over several hours. Local religion strictly forbids climbing the mountain.

Mist Valley – a short pathway of stone carved into a mountain, roughly five feet wide with names of couples and graffiti on the stone walls. The pathway always has a thick fog settled over it, making it seem eerie.

Ancient Battleground – Deep in a forest, trees are marred with years old axe and sword marks. Hundreds of skeletons dressed in rusted armor and weapons lie in this area. Taking a trinket, or even loitering may be unwise.

True Clarity Bridge – A bridge between two high places that, for many people, while staring off the side, provides answers for their most troubling issue or deep question, whether they were looking for the answer or not.

Lover’s Glade – Two sequoia trees whose bases are over a hundred feet apart have grown together and connect about 160 to 180 feet off the ground. The branches and leaves of these giant trees create a pleasantly shaded area below which is often used by the local populace as sites of wedding ceremonies.

Round Rock – A mysterious perfectly round rock that stands nearly 20ft tall. It is too heavy to roll and never seems to chip. It is the center of many local legends, varying wildly on their truthfulness.

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divine-mistake · 3 years

Text

helios, his modern muse

Summary: You prefer the version of him that you can keep inside your tiny apartment, the Steve who looks beautiful in a blue button-up and slightly wrinkled khakis, what he’s wearing now. The Steve who has dried clay beneath his nails sometimes, the one who sculpts and molds objects of beauty from nothing, who makes art out of ugly things. Sometimes, you think it’s why he chose you out of everyone—his need to make art from something ugly.

Characters: Steve/Plus-sized (f)Reader

Warnings: 18+ (no smut), language, female body imagery

Word Count: 2801

A/N: This is a tumblr request for someone who wanted a sculptor Steve and a plus-sized reader. Please enjoy!

main masterlist | AO3

If Steve is the sun, then you would give up everything to be his moon.

“Hey, sweetheart.” His eyes are fire when he looks at you and you wonder if you could touch the sky, the same blue of his eyes, would it feel as warm as the way his gaze does? “How was work?”

He’s sitting at your kitchen table, looking like a god among the stained wood and rickety chairs. A newspaper—so old-fashioned he is, you’ve tried to teach him he can read the news on his phone but he always insists it’s better from the paper—is spread across his lap, thumbing through the pages, a glass of water sitting within reach. Your tiny New York apartment, kitchen tiled green and ugly, looks so small when he resides there. Like his body takes up space and his aura, his being, the light he projects even when he’s just sitting there doing nothing at all, swallows up the atmosphere inside.

If Steve Rogers is the sun, then god, you only shine in the light he radiates.

“Exhausting,” you reply, throwing your keys into the catch-all bowl in the entryway and kicking off your heels. A bath, a blanket, and a bottle of wine are calling your name, but Steve does this incredible thing where the moment he sees you, he opens his arms up like the gates of Heaven and you have no choice but to slump into his embrace.

He does that now, too. With a shuffle of his paper, where he folds it and places it on the dining table, he stands up from the wobbling chair and takes a step toward you, opening his arms wide and smiling with that boyish grin that gets you every time. And like always, you’re stuck in his orbit and unable to resist him, throwing yourself into his hold and relaxing against him.

Your bodies press and mold like magnets forced together. Steve’s arms slip around the smallest part of your waist, squeezing you, his hands roaming over the generous curves and dips that make up your body. Your own arms twine around the back of his neck and you hang from him, letting him support your weight, and on another day if you were less tired and more aware, you’d feel embarrassed at this whole thing.

It’s just simple math, most of the time. If Steve is the sun and you’re still heavier than him, then what are you?

But Steve never makes you feel like that and you love that about him. He holds you like you’re weightless, like you’re this stretch of empty space he needs to cling to before it disappears. Steve drinks you in like you’re oxygen, nothing but gas, a method of sustaining him. And more than anything, he looks at you as if he isn’t the fucking sun, all twenty-seven-million-degrees of him, like he isn’t the star that everyone else revolves around, his warmth, his smile, his blinding light.

No, Steve looks at you like you’re his sun, and sometimes, like now, it steals every ounce of heat from your soul and leaves you frozen.

He must feel you stiffen in his embrace because he ducks down to kiss you then, pulling you impossibly closer, nudging under your jaw with his nose to make you tip upward to reach his lips. You respond like it’s second nature, your mouth moving with his in a dance you’ve choreographed over the last year, and when his tongue smooths over yours like velvet, it ignites a flame in the dredges of your stomach that turns you messy and frantic. Steve laughs against your lips as if he doesn’t know whether to give into your demands so easily, but you know, eventually, he will.

This time, he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours, and your eyes flutter shut as you breathe him in. He smells like earth, bergamot and clay, something fresh that you can’t name as you still the excitement in your heart. It’s a preferable smell to when he comes home from missions, tang and copper and smoke and death. You prefer the version of him that you can keep inside your tiny apartment, the Steve who looks beautiful in a blue button-up and slightly wrinkled khakis, what he’s wearing now. The Steve who has dried clay beneath his nails sometimes, the one who sculpts and molds objects of beauty from nothing, who makes art out of ugly things.

Sometimes, you think it’s why he chose you out of everyone—his need to make art from something ugly.

When your eyes open again, his are closed as he drinks in your effervescence, like he needs your presence to survive. Like you’ve been gone for so long he can’t stand it and needs to bask in your body once again. Behind him, and you’re not sure how you didn’t notice it before, his newest project is left drying, old newspapers he swears he only keeps around for art sitting beneath it to protect your rented floors.

It’s something new, you realize. Something Steve hasn’t attempted to sculpt before. When he first decided he wanted to move on from painting to clay sculptures, he started off small. Oven-baked clay he turned into plates and bowls and lop-sided cups. Things he could paint afterward, combining his talents, something that always brought this look of pride and satisfaction to his face, especially when you cooed over how beautiful his pieces were. He made little statues he gave to his friends, too, an angel’s wing for Sam and a white wolf for Bucky—which took him so long because he had to get it perfect and sweetheart, animals are so hard to make, but I gotta do it for Buck.

This though, this thing that’s sitting, drying, in your kitchen, is a body. And it’s silly, really, but it’s a woman’s body, with her breasts shaped perfectly and her stomach taut, her hips flared into a base. Her neck is slim and her shoulders are smooth, held confidently.

It’s a woman’s body and it isn’t you. It could never be you. You’re too wide, too inelegant, too round in the areas that are so so flat. Steve makes beautiful art out of ugly things. You remind yourself of this so you are painfully aware that Steve could never sculpt you. He would never sculpt you. His need isn’t to make art of you, but to make art out of you.

Steve never makes you feel like that. He never makes you feel ugly.

You’re plenty good at doing that yourself.

“Do you like it?” His voice interrupts your descent into self-pity. He must have realized you’d been staring at it.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmur, and it’s the truth, it really is beautiful, but it feels like a lie to say it outloud.

Steve scratches the back of his head and you miss the warmth of his hand on your waist. It feels like a rejection.

“Yeah,” he says, drawing his hands through his golden hair. “Natasha, uh, well, she wanted something like it. It’s not her,” he quickly assures you, eyes finding yours again. “She didn’t model or anything. It’s just a symbol of feminism, inner goddess, or something like that. Her words, anyway.”

He’s nervous. You don’t know why.

“She’ll love it,” you tell him, your hand smoothing down the wrinkles of his shirt over his chest. It seems to calm him, a happy sigh leaving his mouth. “It’s a powerful statement for her. I think she forgets that her body can hold beauty, not just power and strength.”

You lean up to press a kiss to his lips, a reassurance. Are you trying to reassure him or reassure yourself?

His hold around you tightens. “Sometimes I think you’re the opposite,” he says, his voice low, rumbling in his chest.

“What do you mean?”

“I wonder if you know how much power and strength you hold over me.” His nose follows the curve of your soft jawline. “It isn’t just your beauty that makes my heart beat like this.”

Steve unwraps your hand from where it caresses the fine, sun-sprite hairs that meet his neck, and he presses your palm against the warmth of his chest. Underneath it, you can feel his pulse, jumping like it's attuned to you.

“This is what you do to me,” he murmurs against your ear, making you shiver despite his heated breath. “You’re the greatest work of art I never made. The kind that belongs in a museum.”

You laugh, but it’s mean, and you never meant to be mean. The guilt sets in when Steve’s eyes, his gorgeous baby blue eyes, are awash in a steely hurt as he searches your face, looking for something that might not be there.

“I’m sorry,” you force yourself to say. “I didn’t mean to laugh.”

“You don’t believe me?”

If Steve is the sun, you’re just existing in his shadow, basking in all the good that he projects and never knowing what to give in return.

Instead of answering, you cup his face in your hands and run your thumbs over his cheekbones, sliding your fingers down his neck like trickling water, then smoothing out the stress, the stiffness, in his shoulders. He loves it when you do this—relaxes into your touch like a big cat, warm and pliant from the light of day.

But he doesn’t relax this time. Steve stares down at you, his gaze faraway, like he’s looking through you. Like he’s trying to figure out what you’re thinking.

You hope he never can.

The arm slung around your waist begins to guide you toward the bedroom, and you let him, because if there’s one thing in this life you trust with everything, it’s Steve. Not because he’s Captain America, not because he’s a superhero whose job description is to save the world, and not because he might love you the way you love him. You trust Steve because he’s Steve, he’s safe and secure and soft, and there’s never been a moment where he’s given you a reason to doubt him.

But those words—you’re the greatest work of art I never made—can’t be real.

Steve moves with you until you’re standing in front of the floor-length mirror hanging on your wall, the one he installed for you when he got tired of seeing it balancing precariously on the floor where you left it, and it steals your breath for a moment. To see him standing behind you, nearly a foot taller than you, his body wide and broad and warm and so goddamn beautiful, you think that if a year is all you’ll ever have with him, to touch him, to see him like this, then you’re the luckiest girl alive.

If Steve isn’t the sun, then he’s its God. Helios, you might call him in your dreams where he brightens the night until you feel alive, I love you and your sun.

“What do you see?” he asks you, his hands clutching your waist, holding you in place.

“The most beautiful thing in the galaxy,” you tell him. “The man I love more than anything.”

He laughs, pressing a kiss to your neck.

“Me too,” he says. “You’re like the goddamn sun, sweetheart.”

But it makes you frown, and he notices it in the mirror’s reflection. “You’re the sun,” you say, spinning around to face him, but Steve’s hands lock around your body and he stills you, and once again you’re staring at his eyes through the mirror.

“Do you ever see how beautiful you are?” he asks.

No. He hides his face in your neck and you’re forced to stare at yourself now instead of him.

“Do you know how much light you bring into my life? How cold I feel until you’re in my arms?”

No. You think about the statue, the body of a woman you wish you were the size of.

“Do you know how much I need you to exist?”

No. Steve’s arms wrap around your soft middle and you wonder what he would look like holding a woman who takes up less space, who lets his brilliance shine without weighing him down.

When he looks back up at you, in the mirror, your face is twisted into something ugly. Steve, you suppose, will want to make art out of it, to smooth away the pucker in your lips and the draw of your brows, the way your forehead wrinkles with contempt.

He releases you, stepping away, feet taking him toward his dresser. You are frozen in front of the mirror, eyes roaming over your body, highlighting every insecurity you’ve had since you were young, the ones you always said you’d grow out of.

If Steve isn’t the sun, then you can’t be the moon—you’re just an asteroid floating around in space, lost, dying, crumbling. People don’t look at you and assign a value like beauty to you.

You almost don’t notice when Steve is behind you again, his arms wrapping around you, something colorful in his hands. He places it against your body, cupping it in his arms like a treasure. A gasp leaves your mouth.

It’s a sculpture, like the one he made for Natasha, but it’s different. The breasts are heavy, hanging lower and a little uneven, still beautiful. The stomach isn’t flat but round and the way he’s carved it makes it look soft to touch, bouncy, despite the knowledge that it’s clay. The hips and shoulders are wider, more familiar, and he’s painted it in shades of blue that match his eyes, match the sky right as the sun is setting and night is moving in, when the moon is coming alive.

But what catches your eye more than anything are the golden stripes of shimmering paint that make up the stretch marks—dangerously similar to the ones that decorate your own body—and how they catch in the light.

It’s rapturously gorgeous.

“You made this?” Your voice is breathy when you ask, your hands trembling, reaching out to touch this beautiful statue, but you just can’t bring yourself to.

Steve hums in agreement. “It’s why Natasha wanted her own.”

“Who—” You swallow thickly. “Who did you make this for?”

If Steve is the sun, you would burn up in his atmosphere, just for a taste of his solar flare when he looks at you the way he is right now, loving and kind and still hungry, like he’ll never get enough of you.

He kisses the skin behind your ear, taking one of your hands in your own to press the sculpture into your grasp. Gently, he folds your fingers over it so you can feel the delicate curves of his art against your skin.

“Can’t you tell?” he asks, his lips drawing a line of fire from your neck to the top of your shoulder. “It’s you, sweetheart.”

No—how could you? This sculpture can’t be you. It’s too beautiful to be you. Even with all its flaws, all the things that should point out that make it less than perfect, it’s art. Steve is an artist. He makes art out of ugly things. He made art out of you, and it’s so fucking stunning, you wonder if maybe his hands could do that to you. Could his hands sculpt your body, your living body, into something better than it is now if you let him touch you enough? Are his hands warm enough with the light of the sun to melt all your imperfections away in the same method he uses to shape clay?

“You made me look so beautiful,” you say, a sob choking your words.

“No,” he says. “I could never make anything as beautiful as you.”

He sweeps you into his arms and kisses you sweetly, then, the sculpture he’s made of you the only thing keeping your bodies apart from one another. You cling to it like you’re afraid to lose it, like if your hands aren’t on it, maybe it will disappear and it’ll have been a dream, the fact that Steve’s made you into art. You’re glad you aren’t art, though. Because if you were art, put up in a museum where he says you belong, then Steve wouldn’t be allowed to touch you so generously, so warmly, so perfectly.

And you let him touch you, hoping to memorize the way he molds your wide hips, the dip of your waist, the curve of your shoulder, as if he is sculpting you all over again.

If Steve isn’t the sun, then he is your Helios, your god, your everything. And if he is your Helios, then perhaps you are the sun after all.

Taglist: @melancholic-metanoia

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers #plus size reader #steve rogers fanfiction #one shot #drabble #inbox me to request a fic!#thanks for supporting me!#divine masterlist

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laurafett · 3 years

Text

Unfamiliar Fruit

PART ONE

Friends to lovers, sex pollen Boba Fett x f reader

Words: 10k

- You and Boba are guests in a palace on a different planet. The King serves you some strange food, with the intetion of doing both of you a favour -

No mentions of pronouns, hair or skin color, sexuality. Also, let’s pretend that there is underwear in space. Minors, do NOT interact!!

Warnings: smut, fluff, age gap (reader is 18+), mentions of food and eating, masturbation (m and f), comlink sex, pain due to sex pollen, slight voice kink

______________________________________________________________

Why did you always let yourself get dragged into some bantha shit like this? You were dirty, sweaty and smelled like the inside of a Tauntaun. Boba told you this was going to be a short hunt for which he needed your help. Just one bounty he would have to hunt and collect. He said it would take about two or three days. Yeah, no shit. You were sitting on this Marker forsaken planet for almost two weeks now because Boba found some new connections for his business on Tatooine.

He didn't want you to get into trouble so you had to stay in Slave I almost every day. You had no clean clothes, the water tank for the shower was already empty and soon you would be out of food too.

You sat in this tiny, dirty ship while the bounty hunter probably was living in a big, glamorous palace at the other side of the town. You crossed your arms in front of your chest, letting out a sight as you tried to find a comfortable position in the pilots seat. This was where you spent most of your days, sitting in the cockpit while looking out of the big window in front of you.

It was a green planet, with lots of trees and fields of grasses. It was a welcome sight after spending so much time on Tatooine. The air here was cool and fresh, but it was not exactly cold. The small forests shielded the ship from the sun, so that it always had a comfortable temperature in the ship. At least that was something nice about your current location.

Another nice thing was there was a river which’s stream led behind the big city walls. On some particular hot days, you used the water there to cool down your body. You watched how the water disappeared as soon as it reached the high built bricks that were put there to shield the town and the people there from any kind of intruders.

You couldn't see much of the city because the ship was stationed some miles away from it. You guessed it was old, from the way the walls looked. In all your days here you never saw a person leaving or entering through the massive wooden doors. It made you wonder if the town was really so big to have everything they needed, so no one ever had to leave this place.

Tearing your eyes away from the mysterious town in front of you, you looked into the sky. Only a few more hours before the sun would start to set and you would have another silent night all by yourself.

If you were on Tatooine you would have spent time with Fennec during your sleepless nights, her never seeming to sleep much as well. But no, you were here. And you were bored to death. There wasn't even anything to read on Boba’s ship, so you had no other option other than to sit around and keep staring holes into the air.

Right when you were about to get lost in some thoughts again, your datapad received a message from your absent partner. Your back straightened and you leaned forward to read it.

“We will leave soon, only one or two more days.

They invited you for dinner tonight as well,

you also get a proper quarter to sleep in.

Be here before the sun sets.

Take the ship with you, there is a place near the palace

where you can land it. Be careful.”

You almost started crying at the thought of a real bed and real food waiting for you. “Thank the Maker.”, you mumbled to yourself before you checked that everything on the ship was secured so nothing would break during your flight. It didn't take long for you to start the ship and fly directly in the direction of the big castle-like building.

Only five minutes later you landed the ship near the palace and some people were already coming out of the ancient building. You grabbed your blaster before leaving the ship and walked towards the other people. They greeted you by bowing in front of you. Eyebrows lifted in surprise, you looked back down at them.

There was an older man with brown skin and dark hair, some strands already whitening. His mouth was almost hidden by a big, long beard that went down to his throat, but you were able to make out a small smile on his lips. He wore a purple robe, so long that the end of it was covering the ground behind him. Some golden chains covered his chest and he wore rings on almost every finger.

He was in the company of four young women, covered in light yellow cloaks. You were able to see their faces, all of them smiling at you. Each one seemingly more beautiful than the others. Now you could understand why Boba spent so much time here.

“You must be the partner of the great Boba Fett.” The man in front of you began speaking, “We are glad to have you here. All our guests get only the best. We’ve prepared your quarters for the night and one of my maids will show you the way so you can refresh yourself before dinner.”

The old man pointed at a young woman with curly hair, who was smiling at you.

“Thank you, that's really nice.” was all you could say in your current state of surprise.

“Nothing to thank us for. We made a really good deal with your partner so it is a pleasure for us to have you here.” The man nodded slowly and you gave him a weak smile. These people were way too friendly to make a deal with Boba. You hoped he would explain this to you when you see him.

“Follow me, I will show you your room.” The young woman said and waved her hand for you to follow her.

The palace was gigantic. Many statues and old art were all over the place. The statues were made out of white stone, portraying people you didn't know, probably warriors. Strong bodies, perfectly chiseled into different kinds of material, telling a story you've never heard before. Paintings covered the high walls, showing many faces. Some of them looked like normal citizens like farmers, children, or the whole families portraits. Others picturing royals, queens and kings, princes and princesses.

The two of you walked through an uncountable amount of rooms and corridors. And after almost ten minutes of walking the woman turned around, looking at you. She opened the doors on your left and your eyes widened in shock. The room they prepared for you was bigger than any house you had ever lived in. It was filled with old furniture, a gigantic bed, a big balcony and a probably enormous bathroom behind a closed door. The maid walked into the room with you being directly behind her. She went over to a large closet and opened it to reveal that it was full of beautiful clothes made out of the best material in the galaxy. One of your hands rose to touch the silky fabric of one of the dresses.

“These are for you to wear. We asked your partner for your size and I hope there is something that fits in here. If not, feel free to tell me and we will get you something else.” You slowly nodded while looking through the amount of different clothes. “The King wants you to wear anything you feel comfortable in but would be happy if you would wear something more festive for dinner.” You looked over to her and she smiled at you again.

“Dinner will be ready in about two hours. Feel free to use the bathroom and clean yourself up.” She slowly made her way to the door, “And if you need anything, please let me know and we will be happy to help you.”

“Thank you.” was all you could say before she left the room.

Now being on your own, you slowly walked through the chambers, trying to take in every detail. The walls were a light rosé and sky blue curtains hung beside the windows. All the furniture was made out of dark wood. A small glass table stood in the corner of the room with some books on top. The bed was covered in white sheets and pillows and was large enough to allow 4 people, maybe even more, to sleep comfortably.

You walked out onto the balcony and gasped. You had a great view over the whole city. It wasn't the biggest you have ever seen, but definitely one of the most beautiful ones. Everything looked more like a big garden than a place where people lived. Old, small houses were blooming like mushrooms between a field of grass. Many fields covered the space underneath the palace.

People stood in front of their houses, talking to each other. Children were playing hide and seek, laughing so loud even you could hear it. The lights were turned on in almost every house and you could see some farmers bringing the harvest they collected over the day into the warmth of their homes. This place was really beautiful.

And now, as the sun slowly started to set, it looked even more aesthetically pleasing. You looked down into the court of the palace and saw Boba. He was taking a walk with the man you talked to when you arrived. Hopefully he would tell you what this was all about as soon as you had some alone time with him.

After standing and watching the city for some more moments, you went back inside and into the bathroom. Just as you thought it was just as big as everything else. Covered in white tiles, a marble bathtub, a shower beside and a big sink with a mirror and any kind of makeup you could think of. You never really used something like this, but maybe tonight was a good night to try it.

You stripped out of your dirty clothes and quickly got into the shower. The warm water ran down your body and you couldn't help yourself but moan at the relaxing feeling. After cleaning yourself completely, you just had to stay under the warm water for just a bit longer.When you finally had enough, you turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. With one hand you grabbed one of the soft towels, wrapping it around your body.

Entering the bedroom once more you walked over to the big closet and searched through it. You opened one of the drawers, instantly moving back in surprise. It was full of some of the most expensive and beautiful lingerie you have ever seen. Did Boba tell them to get those for you? Curiously you looked through them, soon realizing that all of them were exactly your size. How could he know what size you wore? But before you were able to think much further, your eyes caught a glimpse of a beautiful, dark green lace set.

You pulled it out of the drawer, taking the time to really look over it. It was gorgeous. Without thinking too much, you dried your body and tried on the underwear. You weren't insecure about your body or anything, but you were still afraid that it might not look as good as you imagined. With small steps you walked in front of the big mirror beside the closet and looked at your figure. Holy shit. You looked fucking hot. The bra fitted perfectly around your breasts and you were able to see through it a little bit. The panties wrapped themselves around your ass without covering too much. You were speechless. How could've Boba guessed your size so perfectly?

Before putting on more clothes you went back into the bathroom to do your hair and make up. And while doing that your thoughts started to wander.

You always had a thing for Boba. From the day you agreed to work with him to this current moment. The both of you met while searching for a bounty. He got attacked by several men at the same time and you hopped in to help him. He was impressed, to say at least. You joked about saving his life and how he would owe you something.

The bounty hunter was almost speechless at that moment. You weren't afraid of him. You knew who he was, but you weren't afraid, not in the slightest. He was almost sure he could like you until it turned out that both of you were going after the same bounty. Boba tried to tell you that you had no right to go after this man and that he would kill you if you still tried to, but the only thing you said was:”Are you afraid of losing, old man?”

And that is how it started. You were able to catch the first bounty. Boba was angry about it, but he would never tell that he was almost as much impressed by your fighting and hunting skills. Those games continued for weeks. Every time you met each other on a planet, searching for a bounty, you made a contest out of it.

He would never admit it, but he loved it. He loved to see you getting lost in your hunting instincts and trying to get whoever you were looking for. He loved seeing you fight, you were much stronger than you looked. But mostly he loved to see your euphoric smile when you showed him the bounty you just caught. Of course he would never admit that to you, but he loved spending this time with you.

But things got more stressful on Tatooine and he had to stay there for a certain amount of time, dealing with his business. You two didn't see each other anymore and it drove both of you crazy. You listened to every conversation about Boba to find out where he was right now, secretly hoping to see him again as soon as possible.

Until one day, you received a message from the King of the Underworld himself. He said that he would need more good bounty hunters in his palace and offered you a job at his side. Obviously, you couldn't say no, so the next day you made your way to the palace to start working with him and his right hand Fennec.

The three of you got along pretty well and work seemed to be as easy as never before. The only thing disturbing the good climate you had in the palace was the never ending tension between you and Boba. You didn't know what exactly the reason was for this undeniable tension, but it drove you mad. You were attracted to him, there was no point in denying that. But you also knew that he saw you as a coworker, maybe a friend. There were other things going through his head than what was going on between the two of you. You were also sure that you just imagined all the small hints which could possibly be a sign for him returning your feelings.

Until Fennec decided to confront you. She asked you why you didn't already tell him, that it was already really obvious. You didn't know what to say and tried to deny your feelings. The only reaction she showed to your very bad lie was a dramatic roll of her eyes. “I can't wait until you both realize that each of you returns the feelings for the other one.” was the last thing she said before she walked away and it still haunted you to this day.

Your eyes were glued to the mirror in front of you while you were trying to do your eyeliner. Finally finished, you looked at yourself. Even though you didn't use makeup on a regular basis, it looked really good. Happy with your hair and makeup, you went back to the closet.

Your eyes scanned every single piece of clothing in there. What would be something acceptable to wear while having dinner with a King? One of the dresses caught your eye, but before you were able to pull it out of the closet the door to your room got opened.

Eyes widened in shock, you looked at Boba who stood in the doorway. You couldn't see it but his eyes scanned your almost naked body. He didn't even realize it but his breathing stopped as soon as he saw you. You looked absolutely stunning. Only when his eyes met yours through his visor, he realized that he was staring at you. He snapped out of his thoughts and turned around, trying to get his breathing under control.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you. I just wanted to see if everything is alright and tell you that dinner is ready in about half an hour.” he spoke with a raspy voice.

“Okay, alright. I will be there.” You looked at his back while speaking.

Without another word Boba went out of the room and closed the door behind him. He walked down the corridor with large steps. The picture of you, just standing there in the probably hottest set of lingerie he ever saw, was burned into his mind. They asked him for your size, yes, but he never thought they would pick out something like this for you. Maker, he needed to cool down.

Entering his room, he sat down on the white sheets of his bed. Seeing you like this was completely new for him and he couldn't deny the fact that his trousers got tighter when he had scanned the length of your body. He knew you for a good amount of time now, but most of the time he had enough self-control to not imagine you in this certain kind of way. But this time, he couldn't help himself.

Pictures of your body laying underneath him flooded his mind. He wondered if the sounds you made were just as beautiful as you? Would your lips feel as soft as they look? Would you taste like- Kriff. His eyes snapped open and he let out a deep sigh. At this point, he was rock hard just by thinking of you. He needed to stop.

He knew that someone as beautiful as you and also younger than him would never share the same feelings as him. You were able to have any person you wanted, why would you choose him? He thought back when you first arrived at his palace.

The way the people eyed you. Hundreds of hungry eyes stared at you. He still remembered how glad he was that he wore his helmet, so no one could see his jealous expression. Only when you walked up to him and started talking to him, the people stopped staring at you. The only thing he wanted to do in that moment was to pull you onto his lap and show everyone that you belonged to him and if anyone dared to lay a hand on you, they would have to deal with Boba himself.

But you weren't his. You belonged to no one, you told him more than once. And he understood what you meant by saying this and he respected you, more than anyone else. But he still found himself alone at night, wishing you were by his side.

A knock on the door ripped him out of his daydreams.

“I just wanted to tell you that food is ready in five minutes.” A voice said through the door. After that it got silent again. Trying to get you out of his head he stood up and made his way into the dining hall. This is going to be a long night.

You stood in silence for a minute after Boba left your room. You noticed his staring, but you weren't sure if it was just because you were in your underwear or if he really thought you were attractive.

Thinking about it for a second, you decided to try your luck today. If it turned out that he wasn't interested, you could finally live in peace again. But if he was, then you were going to have a very good night.

The bounty hunter was already sitting at the table when you entered the large dinner room. You saw how his helmet turned in your direction but you couldn't see any reaction from his side. And again, Boba was very happy to wear that stupid helmet. You looked stunning. Your body was covered by a silky black dress with thin straps. It went down to your legs and hugged all your curves perfectly. He swallowed hard, almost sure everyone could hear it.

With a nervous look, you settled down in the seat beside him. You looked at his black visor and he nodded slightly. Before you could say anything the King, as you learned for the maid, stood up and began to speak.

“Tonight we want to honor our guests, the great Boba Fett and his beautiful partner. Our kingdom was able to make a deal from which we all are going to profit from and which will keep us all safe.” He raised his glass in your direction. “We hope you enjoy your meal and now, let the festivities begin.”

He brought his glass to his lips and drank one sip, before everyone else joined in.

Two big doors swung open and the staff brought in the food. You almost couldn't believe your eyes. So many different kinds of food, mostly things you didn't even know. Your stomach started rumbling at the sight of all the different courses. With wide eyes, you looked at Boba once more. He didn't notice because he was in the middle of taking off his helmet. You were about to stop him, but it was already too late. He never let his enemies or business partners see his face, but by the reaction of the other people in this room it wasn't the first time they saw him. He turned his face to you and mustered you with a confused look.

“What's the matter?” His eyes fixed on yours while he was trying to figure out what was going on in your head.

“Nothing. Don’t worry.” You shook your head slightly.

Bringing your eyes back to the food in front of you, you couldn't stop yourself from starting to eat. So many different vegetables and fruits. All the different variations and sauces. You moaned when the first piece of food found its way into your mouth. This was the best feeling you've ever experienced.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Boba watched you and a small smile tugged at his lips as he saw your satisfied expression when you finally started eating.

Without even trying to hold back you ate as much food as you could. Each dish was better than the other and you were almost overwhelmed at all the different choices.

You were still eating even after all the others finished their meal, but you didn't care. You had no good food in weeks and to be completely honest, the food on Tatooine wasn't the best either.

Shoving the last piece of food into your mouth you fell back into your seat, holding your tummy. You were stuffed, to say the least.

“Finished already? Don't you want to lick the plates of all the others clean too?” Boba smirked at your exhausted figure, bringing his glass to his lips.

You gave him a playful annoyed look, but couldn't hold back your laugh. The corners of his mouth raised around the glass.

Before you were able to reply something the other man beside you started talking to you. You were so caught up in getting food inside your stomach that you didn't even talk to anyone in here. So you gladly interacted in the conversation the other man tried to build up.

Turns out this planet was one of the only ones which stayed completely out of the war that happened some years ago; which was impressive because almost no planet was able to stay out of those kinds of politics. But this was the reason why everything here was so old. They never had to rebuild anything because nothing ever got destroyed. Maybe by accident on occasion but never due to war. The people who lived here had one of the oldest environmental systems in the galaxy, which is the reason why you didn't recognize most of the food. It's local and you are not able to get it on any different planets. You wondered if Boba made a deal about some kind of spices, but he was more than a spice smuggler. That would make no sense.

Suddenly, in the middle of the conversation, someone came up behind you and sat a new plate in front of you. On it was a fruit, you also didn't recognize. It had thick skin and was bright yellow. You looked around and saw that Boba and you were the only one with this kind of food on their plates. With a confused look you turned your head to him but he just shrugged his shoulders, signaling you that he also had no idea what kind of fruit that was.

“We decided to give you some of our rarest food on the planet. It is hard to grow and actually is the only fruit we sometimes sell to other planets. But after everything you will be doing for us, I think you deserve to get a taste.”, the King spoke and looked at the two of you. You weren't sure if it was just your imagination but all the other people in the room looked at you with a smirk on their face. As if they knew something you didn't.

There was no room left in your stomach, you were full. But after everything the man said, you didn't want to be rude, so you took your fork and tried a small piece of the yellow food in front of you.

Before you even started chewing it, you tasted how sweet it was. Too sweet. You grimaced at the overwhelming taste. It was like nothing you ever tasted before. It gave your tongue a tingling sensation but also made it numb at the same time. The juice that squished out of it when you bit it, immediately ran down your throat. You desperately tried to hold back a cough. With one big gulp, you swallowed the piece of fruit and laid your fork back down.

Side-eyeing Boba, you saw that he wasn't impressed by the taste either. Just now you realized that all eyes in the room were laid on the two of you, waiting for your reaction.

“It-” You began, clearing your raspy voice before continuing, “It tastes delicious, really. Amazing, different taste.” It was a lie and anyone smart enough would have realized but it seemed like the people didn't notice. They started smiling, bringing their attention to their own desserts.

Boba looked at you in a way that said 'You are a terrible liar.', but you didn't care as long as everyone was happy.

“I'm very glad to hear that and now eat up. We wouldn't want to waste anything of this delicate fruit.” You sent a death look into the direction of the king, but your partner nudged your side with his elbow.

“Eat up. You don't want to be rude, do you?” Your death glare wandered directly to Boba and he smirked at you. Cocky bastard.

With a disgusted look on your face you took the fork again and started eating the fruit.

Soon it was much later in the evening but you didn't notice the passage of time because you were actually having some nice conversations with the people from the city. You talked about the wars, the way this planet stayed out of them, the story of how you became a bounty hunter and joined Boba.

Your eyes wandered into the direction of said bounty hunter more than once that night. Sure, he wasn't someone to talk much, especially about his feelings, but you couldn't deny the feeling of disappointment that he didn't even acknowledge the way you looked tonight. The small amount of hope in you wasn't strong, but it was surely gone by now. Forcing your eyes away from him, you started listening to the story one of the women in front of you was currently telling.

Boba didn't feel well. It wasn't the amount of strangers around him or the fact that he probably ate too much, no. It was the fact that you turned heads in this room. From more than just one or two people.

But well, he couldn't blame them. Your body looked like art in the dress you were wearing. He asked himself what the reason was, for your choice of looks tonight. Did you want to impress someone? Boba knew you had your fair amount of affairs. It had been revealed after you two along with Fennec drank too much spotchka one night and talked about your sex lives. He still didn't know how that happened.

Anyway, even though he knew you weren't his, he tried to keep everyone away from you that showed just the slightest bit of interest in you. He knew it wasn't fair, but he couldn't stand the thought of someone else touching you. Was this the reason you were dressed like this? Did you want to hook up with someone from the palace?

He shook his head. He had no reason to think about your intimate relationships with others; he had no right to judge or decide over your choices. But the more he let his mind wander, more thoughts of you popped up in his head. And one of the thoughts was the picture of you in your underwear. Again.

Suddenly, he felt hot. Not in the way he felt when he was angry or embarrassed, but actually hot. So hot that he started sweating. He looked around to find a reason why the temperature suddenly had changed in here but it seemed like no one else noticed. He tried to adjust himself in the chair. It felt like his armor got two sizes smaller and he wasn't able to breathe. Different parts of his body began to tingle and he was sure he would pass out. His body quickly raised from his seat, to get out of the room but the second he stood, he couldn’t move due to the feeling of dizziness that held him. Boba stood there for a second before he made his way out of the dinner hall.

Your eyes fell on his quickly moving body and the way the look on his face seemed alarmed. Something told you to follow him. Without excusing yourself, you left your seat and made your way up to him. Before he was able to leave the room, you reached for his arm and stopped him. He turned to you, his eyes wide in shock.

“Boba, are you alright? You look terrible.” The look on your face was concerned and you glanced at him through your lashes. He stared at you, not without noticing how his eyes started to wander over your body.

“I- umm...” He stopped his rambling when he felt a painful sting in his lower belly, his erection forming in his pants. What was wrong with him?

“Kriff.” was all he said, looking around to see if anyone was staring at the two of you. Luckily no one seemed to care about the fact that the two of you were standing away from the table.

Without thinking, Boba grabbed your waist and pulled you a little closer to him. You were so surprised. You couldn't think of anything to say. He lowered his head so his mouth was directly at your ear.

“We are leaving tomorrow morning, be ready. I'm going to bed now and you should too, Princess.” Not a second later, he released his grip on you and was gone.

Princess. The word rang through your ears. It was almost as if you could still feel his hands on you. A shiver ran down your shine when you thought about his breath hitting your sweaty neck. Lost in your thoughts you still looked at the door he left through.

A sharp pain in your stomach shook you out of your trance. You flinched at the feeling, wondering what that was. But a moment later, you felt a burning heat in your core and the feeling spread through your whole body. You grew even hotter than before. Maybe Boba was right. You should go to bed.

It was harder than you thought to find your way back to your quarters. The fact that your legs got weaker with every step and the slightly dizzy feeling in your head wasn't helping either. You stumbled through the corridors, hoping to soon find your stupid room. Who needs a palace that big anyway?

After some more minutes, you were sure you finally arrived. About to open the door to your room, you heard a strange sound coming from a chamber down the hall. You stayed still, to see if it wasn't just your head trying to trick you.

“Dank Farrik!”

Even though your whole body was aching at this point, you followed the sound. A loud groan came out of one room and you realized it was Boba. A little bit faster than before, or at least as fast as you were able to go, you went to the door the sound was coming from. Your mind clouded from the heat and pain taking over your body as you knocked.

“Boba?” Your voice was weak and raspy as if you had been screaming for hours straight. Nothing happened, so you tried again. “Are you alright? I heard some noise-”, a sore, deep voice cut you of.

“I'm... I'm alright.” A sore, deep voice cut you off. On the other side of the door, the man struggled to speak. His throat felt so dry as if he had wandered through the dunes of Tatooine for days without a single drop of water. Every part of his body arched and he panted, not being able to breath properly.

When he entered his room some moments ago, he got rid of his armor, tossing it carelessly onto the floor and falling down onto the bed. He didn't feel dizzy anymore but there was pain, almost as bad as in the sarlacc, flowing through his body and especially into his abandonment. He was hard, harder than ever before and it hurt. Scared of touching himself, of making the pain even worse, he just kept laying there, hoping that the pain would go away. No luck yet.

There was a white noise in your ears and you almost didn't hear what he said. His voice sounded so breathy; you were afraid he was hurt. You tried to steady yourself by holding on to the doorknob. You felt like you were about to pass out, but you still wanted to make sure that everything was alright.

“Are you s... sure? It doesn't sound like it.” It almost hurt to speak.

You heard a terrifying growl from the other side of the door.

“Fucking hell. I'm doing fine and now go to bed.” Boba shouted.

Too dizzy to be shocked or to show any reaction towards his tone you slowly made your way back to your quarters. Barely able to find the strength to push the door open, you almost fell into the room. The pain got even worse and couldn't hold your body up any longer. You felt your legs carry you across the room so you could collapse on the bed, groaning loudly as your body landed on the mattress. Your mind wasn’t able to form any kind of rational thought. The only thing you were aware of was the pain in your body and the growing wetness between your legs.

You had no idea what was going on, only realizing that you started to become incredibly needy. With all the force you could muster in the moment, you rubbed your thighs together to create even the smallest amount of friction. You almost started cringing when you felt how just wet you were. Maker, what was wrong with you?

The pressure from your thighs wasn't enough. Your panties were already soaked, even without anyone touching you. Slowly, you let one of your hands go between your legs. Your body jumped at the first light touch and an obscene moan left your mouth. Holding your other hand over your mouth, you carefully started to touch yourself.

You closed your eyes, trying to focus on giving yourself some kind of pressure pleasure, but it didn't work. The pain was still there and it seemed like it wasn't about to leave any time soon. Starting to move your hand faster, to find your way to the desperately needed climax, you heard the sound of your wet cunt.

You’ve never been this wet. Especially without anyone touching you. Your thoughts drifted to Boba. Him calling you princess surely couldn't be the reason for the mess between your legs. You wanted to fuck him, but you weren't that affection starved. Or were you?

Thinking about your partner brought you closer to your own orgasm. Two of your fingers circled around your clit and started to become sloppy as you grew closer to your release. Your eyes stayed shut, trying to imagine something that would help you. You thought of Boba, sitting on his throne, legs wide and taking every inch of space in the big seat. The way he looked so dangerous, just by doing nothing then looking around the room. How often you thought about riding him in that position. You on top of him, his large hands on your hips. You would be completely naked for him while he still wore his armor, feeling the cold beskar against your heated skin. His body would tense underneath yours while he pounded into you, calling you his good girl.

You were so close, you could feel the familiar heat rising. Just one or two more seconds.

“Hey. Are you here? Can you hear me?” Your hand moved from your core as fast as possible. Shooting your eyes into the direction of the door, but it was still closed. A groan left your mouth. You were so close and the pain was still so present in your body, you were probably imagining things.

Just as you were about to continue, the voice rang through the room again. You tried to sit up, looking around, searching for the reason you were able to hear him.

“Are you mad at me? Dank- I... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you.” Boba sounded like he was out of breath. Your eyes landed on the pile of clothes on the floor. Sure, your comlink. On shaky legs, you walked to your old clothes and took the small speaker from your belt.

You were afraid to say something. Did he hear you? You were embarrassed. He was your coworker and you just almost had an orgasm while thinking about him.

“Boba.” The only thing leaving your mouth, in a breathless voice, was his name. You weren't able to say more, afraid that he might sense what you just did.

The man in the other room was still laying on his bed. He didn't trust himself to stand up. His heavy breathing was the only sound around him. His fist clenched around the comlink, after he heard you speaking. Your voice sounded just as weak as his, you must feel the same reaction as he did.

Boba has been to a lot of planets and different cities, but this feeling was new to him. He knew what the cause for this was, probably. The fruit contained a certain type of pollen. He heard about them, about the stuff they do to the ones eating it. It was almost like an aphrodisiac, people would get desperate for any kind of sexual interaction, just to make the pain go away. And he also knew that the pain would fade much faster, if you would do something about it and even better, not by yourself.

The sound of you whispering his name through the speaker made his hips twitch. He would never act on the feelings he had right now, especially not with you. You were too important to him and he would never forgive himself if he lost you due to his needy brain and body. But he couldn't stop thinking about you. The fact that you felt the same exact pain he did in this moment, made it even worse.

“Are you... are you alright?” Your quiet voice cut through his thoughts. Maker, why did your voice have to sound so fucking desperate? He shuts his eyes close, trying to stay focused.

“Yes, I think so. What about you?”

“No. No, I think something is wrong with me.” Boba's eyes snapped open again when he heard you were crying. “I- I don't know why, but everything hurts. Kriff, it hurts so bad Boba. I don't know what to do.” By now your voice was almost unrecognizable, it was shaky and blurred from your crying.

The heart of the bounty hunter sank deep in his chest. He didn't want you to go through this. “Okay, try to calm down. You got this, try to ignore it.” He almost laughed at himself. There was no way to ignore it and he knew that.

“Are you kidding me? Try to ignore it? Boba, it feels like my whole body is on fire, I can't just pretend I don't feel that shit.” There was a hint of annoyance in your voice and he couldn't blame you. He was better at controlling his body in general and it was still hell for him. He couldn't even imagine how you felt. “You know what, I'm coming over, right now.”

“No!” He screamed the word into the communicator in his hand. With all his strength, he sat up and rubbed a hand over his face. There was no way he would spend this time with you. He knew he wouldn't be able to control himself if you were with him.

“Boba, what the he-”

“I know what might help you.” His tone was low and calm, trying not to cross a line with what he was about to say. “You need to touch yourself.”

Your mouth fell open. Did... did he really just say that? You stayed silent, not knowing what to say. That was what you were already doing, touching yourself, but hearing him saying those words sent goosebumps all over your body.

“Before you start to protest, yes I know it sounds strange, but believe me, it will help you.” A moment of silence fell above you before he started to speak again. “Please. I don't want you to be in this terrible pain. Do... do it for me, please.”

You weren't able to stop the whine that left you after hearing his words. It was too much; this whole situation was too much for you. Your body was aching and you knew that your hands would never be able to sooth the pain and growing heat between your legs.

“Boba, I-” He cuts you off once again.

“S- stop saying my name like that, please. I will not be able to control myself if you keep doing that.” You felt even more heat rising in your body at his words. “Just... just try to do what I just told you.”

Without letting go of the comlink, you sneaked your hand under your dress once again and into your wet folds. You moaned at the feeling. There was a hiss, coming out of the speaker and you heard the man on the other end swearing.

“That's it. Just keep doing that.” Boba wasn't able to hold it back anymore, freeing his painful hard cock from his pants. It snapped up against his tummy and he threw his head back when the cold air hit his aching member.

“Boba.” This time you moaned his name on purpose and he really had to hold himself back from cumming right there and then, “I- I can't do this on my own, please.”

At this point you didn't care how desperate you sounded or if he could hear the sounds you were making. You needed something. You needed him.

The man heard you, very well, and it drove him crazy. He put his hand around his cock, slowly starting to pump it. It didn't feel good. He didn't like to masturbate in general, but with this burning need inside him and hearing you, touching yourself, it felt even worse. The urge to touch you has never been this strong, but he needed to keep it together. You only did that because you felt the pain this fruit caused, not because you were genuinely attracted to him.

Your fingers circled your clit, but it didn't feel like it was enough. Silent tears were still streaming down your face because you couldn't build up the friction you really needed. You whined in frustration.

Boba was sure he wouldn't last long if you kept making those sounds. Maker, what would he give to see you right now. Disheveled hair, your makeup probably all over your face, your hand between your legs and eyes closed. He was sure you looked like a goddess.

“Please, Boba. I need-” He had to stop you. He couldn't listen to you with that sweet, sweet voice of yours any longer.

“Alright, okay. Just do what I tell you.” The bounty hunter didn't believe what he was about to do. He has wanted you for so long and even though you weren't with him right now, he would savor every second of this.

“Just... umm...” He stopped himself and rasped his voice. He never had a problem with being talkative during sex. He actually really liked it but with you and especially in this situation, it felt different. “Bring your middle finger and your pointing finger to your clit and start rubbing it in circles. Not too fast, to build up some good pressure.” His grip around his cock tightened at the picture of you in his head.

You did as he told you and moaned, more at the words he spoke than to the actual feeling of pleasure. Never in your life have you been this turned on, not only because of the strange feeling in your body but also by the way Boba guided you through this. You could already feel the familiar heat growing in your lower stomach again. It wouldn't take long for you to finish.

He needed a moment to breath before he continued. Your moaning and whining made his dick twitch in his hand. His thumb collected the precum that already leaked and used it to start stroking himself again.

“Now use those two fingers, slide them inside of you and start fucking yourself.” His mind was clouded with pictures of you. The sounds you made rang in his ears and he wasn't able to hold his grunting back anymore.

The two of you listened to each other, touching yourselves. Both of you would lie if they said that this wasn't the hottest thing you’ve ever done. Feelings aside, the urge to feel one another and touch each other was so present and burning as never before, it was almost worse than the actual pain in your bodies.

Your back arched as you felt yourself getting close again, but you needed to hear his voice one more time. “Boba, I'm- I'm so close... I-” He was too and your words almost sent him over the edge, but he wanted to help you reach your climax first.

“It's alright, Princess. Just l- let go.” The hand around his cock sped up. His rapid pace was almost hurtful. “Imagine it’s someone else doing that to you. Imagine your fingers are someone else's, someone you wish was touching you right now.”

An incredibly loud sound left your mouth and you began to see stars. Your legs started to twitch and shake, while a loud white noise flooded your ears. Without thinking you started to scream. “You. Fuck, I wish it was you who was touching me right now, Boba.” You cummed hard. Your toes curled, your head pressing into the mattress underneath you. The hand inside of you stopped moving and started shaking, like every other part of your body.

As you laid there panting, you slowly came back to your senses. It was silent, but the pain in your body was still as present as before your orgasm. You groaned in frustration.

“It didn't help. Fuck, Boba. The pain is still there.” You whined but there was no reaction. The other side of the comlink was completely silent. Tears build themselves up and were about to escape your already burning eyes. You fucked up. You just told him you wished he would touch you.

“Shit!” You screamed and pressed your hands flat over your face. The tears started to stream down your face faster now as you started crying again. The pain and the embarrassment took over your brain, you never wanted to see him again. He would fire you, bring you back to the planet you came from and leave you there. You started sobbing and removed the hands from your face to place one of them over your mouth to muffle your pitiful cries.

You hated yourself right now. So much so that you would rather stay in this room forever than ever have to see his face again. The moment repeated itself in your head over and over again. You didn't notice when he broke the connection, but you knew that he probably did it after the last sentence you said.

New tears formed in the corner of your eyes, but before they were able to make their way down your face the door to your room got pushed open. Your head turned to the person standing in the doorway. It was Boba, wearing nothing but his black flight suit he always wore underneath his armor. You brought up your head and steadied yourself on your elbows.

“What are you-” The man was in front of you in a matter of seconds, looking down at your weak form. You slowly sat up and stared into his dark eyes.

“Was that what you said the truth?” His voice was even deeper in person. He looked exhausted, breathing unsteadily and sweating all over his face.

“Boba, I... I don't know-” One of his hands grabbed your chin roughly and tilted your head in his direction. Your heartbeat was going faster than before. It was hammering hard against your chest. You could feel it in every part of your body.

“Just tell me if you meant what you just said, or not. Because if you did, I will help you. I- I will touch you, just the way you need it, little one.” His eyes pierced into yours. His voice sounded calm but you could see that he was just as worked up as you. “And if not, I will leave you alone. I don't want you to feel pressured to do anything you don't want to do.”

It was almost as if you forgot how to breath. His words rang through your ears and for a second you believed you passed out and all of this was a dream. But the grip around your chin proved you wrong.

“I asked you a question.” He said in a more aggressive tone. The hand on your face tugged you slightly forward and only now you became aware of his hard erection, pressing against his pants. You swallowed loudly, looking back up into his eyes. A small smirk played around his lips.

“Like what you see?” The smirk on his face grew even wider when he saw your head nodding.

“Now tell me,” He brought his body down to yours to look directly into your face, “Do you want me to touch you? Do you want me to help you get rid of the pain?”

He paused for a second and brought his face closer to yours so both of your noses were touching.

“Do you want me to make you feel good?”

Your breathing hitched in your lungs and you felt a hot sting going through your body, going straight to your cunt. Boba drew his face away from you, just a little bit, but you already wanted to protest. Your hands rose up and grabbed his broad shoulders.

“Yes.” It was nothing more than a silent breath but the words rang in his ears as if you screamed them. “Yes, I want you to touch me and make me feel good, I- Fuck, Boba. I want you so bad.”

Without wasting another second he crushed his lips onto yours and started kissing you. The kiss was heated, fast and passionate. Teeth clenched against teeth and tongues tried their best to taste the other person. His lips were softer than you expected, they were warm and inviting. A tingling feeling made its way to your chest and you realized you never wanted this to stop.

You felt like you were in heaven and even forgot about the pain for a second, but not for long. Boba's hands were holding your face, brought it even closer to his while you did the same with your hands around his neck.

His mouth pulled away from yours as he began to wander and kiss his way down your throat. He let both of his hands slide down your body, over your breasts until he rested them at your waist. Your body arched into his touch and a whimper escaped you. The man's lips twitched into a smile, feeling proud about the reaction of your body against his touches.

With one hand on your back, he slowly started to lay you down on the bed. His body was now hovering over you and you could feel the strong heat radiating from him. Every kiss he left on your bare skin was like a small flame burning its way into your mind.

When his lips reached your cleavage he stopped and looked up to you. You looked so beautiful, a sweating, panting mess underneath him. That's everything he ever dreamed of, maybe even more.

Both of his hands ran patiently down your sides until he got to your thighs. He reached for the hem of your dress and pulled it up a little bit. His hot mouth went down your clothed body, not once breaking the eye contact.

You shivered at the sight in front of you. Every part of you felt like it was electrified and you were sure you would explode if he wouldn't start properly touching you soon.

Boba went onto his knees in front of the bed, now pulling up your dress so that the hem of it lay just above your panties. His eyes fell to the soaked green material that still covered your heat.

“Look at you. If it wasn't for the fucking fruit, I would say that you are pretty desperate for me, little one.” A wide smirk covered his face and even more heat rose into yours.

“What has the fruit to do with-” But you were cut off by the feeling of one of his thick fingers sliding in between your wet folds. Your mouth fell open in a breathless moan and your head pushed back into the white covers. Only when you heard the man in front of you humming your head came back up only to see that the finger, which was between your legs just seconds ago, was now in his mouth. His eyes found yours while he licked his finger clean, pulling it back out with a small popping sound.

“You taste fucking delicious. Better than any food anyone’s ever served me.” He smiled at you. “Even better than I've imagined.”

Your eyes widened at his words. He imagined the way you tasted? The man in front of you was about to pull down your panties, but you stopped him. He looked at you with a confused expression.

“What do you mean with 'you imagined'? Have you thought about this before? About us?” The pain was buzzing through your body, but you needed to know.

His expression softened and a small smile appeared on his face. He planted a soft kiss on your knee before talking.

“Princess, are you serious? I've dreamed about this for so long, to finally have you. To feel, taste and hear you, everything. But right now,” His lips made their way up on your inner thigh, “is not the time to talk about this. Let me soothe your pain and afterwards, we can talk about everything. I promise. Right now, I just want to taste you.”

He reached your clothed cunt and pressed a kiss on to it. His fingers reached up to the waistband of your panties. Your legs were already shaking from watching him move. You were about to tell him not to tease you when a knock on the door cut through the thick tension hanging between the both of you.

A sigh left your lungs and you fell back into the sheets underneath you. This couldn't be real. You whined, tears swelling up in your eyes again.

Boba noticed and started rubbing his hands up and down your legs. “Hey, hey. Calm down. We don't have to answer.”

It stayed silent for a while, a relieved feeling washed over your body. Boba started kissing your inner thighs again and just before he reached the spot where you needed him the most, the knock disturbed you once again.

“Kriffing hell.” The bounty hunter muttered to himself and got up. With large steps he went to the door and opened it just enough so the other person could see his face.

It was one of the maids. She looked at Boba with an apologizing look.

“I'm sorry to disturb you but our communication system received a call from your palace on Tatooine. There is a woman, called Fennec Shand and she wants to talk to you. She didn't say what it was about but she said it is urgent.”

He wanted to scream, wanted to tear down the whole palace. No, not now. His head turned into your direction. You looked at him with dove eyes, still shimmering from your previous tears. He couldn't do that now, both of you still in the middle of the reaction from this fruit. He was in pain too, but he knew it was worse for you. Turning his head he looked back at the maid.

“The woman is waiting for you.” Boba sighed. He knew it was wrong but he needed to know what Fennec thought was so urgent.

“Give me a second, I will be right there.”, he said before closing the door.

The man turned around and looked at you once more. He didn't want to go. His deepest desire, finally so close to him and his duty as the King of the Underworld keeping him away from reaching it.

“I have to go.”

“What?” Your body shot up from it's laying spot in the bed. A hand reached out to him and clutched at his sleeve. “No. No, please. You can't leave me now.”

“I have to, but it won't take long, I promise.” Boba gabbed the back of your head and pressed a kiss to your forehead. He was about to turn around, but you still didn't let go of him.

“Boba, stop. Please I- it still hurts. I can't take this anymore.” He looked at you, bringing his hand to your cheek.

“You can do it and while I'm gone you’re going to touch yourself again, you hear me? Prepare your pretty, little cunt for me and when I come back, I will give you everything you need.” Not waiting for another response from you, he freed his arm from your grip and walked out of the room.

#boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #boba fett #smut #sex pollen #the mandolorian #the book of boba fett

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xjoonchildx · 4 years

Text

guilty | knj x reader | chapter one: how odd

summary: as the man at the top, kim namjoon has almost everything he wants. almost. could a familiar face from the past change his future?

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: mafia AU, pining, eventual smut

rating: 18+

word count: 2.8K

notes: you guys have been so amazing with your feedback on “guarded” and it warms my heart that you loved hoseok and ms. kim -- so it’s time to show mr. kim some love, too. this series will not be long (probably three parts) but i had to break it into chapters because of the POV shifts. please let me know what you think about this chapter and as usual thank you so much to all the tiger wives and my amazing betas @ladyartemesia and @hobi-gif.

this series is dedicated to the amazing @sahmfanficbts who is an incredible writer, an awesome woman, and kim namjoon’s number one fan.

this fic is a continuation of the Guarded Series but can be read as a standalone piece.

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | Epilogue

**********************

“You fired me?”

Namjoon turns at the sound of the quiet accusation that comes from over his shoulder.

There is color in your cheeks as you cross the length of his office. Your jaw is tight, one lock of hair falling free from the loose knot at the base of your neck. One perfectly-arched brow is raised high.

You look hurt.

Beautiful -- but hurt.

Guilt hits Namjoon like a freight train.

“Of course not,” he deflects, taking a seat. He picks up one of the papers scattered across his desktop and pretends to read it carefully. “I reassigned you to a position I believe will be a better fit.”

There’s no way he could miss the irritated breath you suck between your teeth but Namjoon keeps his eyes glued to that paper in his hand. He realizes, absently, that it’s a takeout menu.

He hopes you haven’t noticed the same thing.

“Well, was there some kind of problem with my performance?”

Namjoon winces at the dejection in your tone. He finally forces himself to meet your gaze and finds your eyes brimming with frustration.

He certainly can’t blame you on that account -- you have every right to be frustrated. You shouldn’t be made to feel somehow lacking when it’s him who is lacking in every way that counts.

“Quite the opposite,” he says carefully. “I think it’s a waste of your skills to have you keeping my schedule and taking calls. Seokjin can make better use of your talents on the business side.”

A strained silence settles over the room and Namjoon clears his throat before looking back down to his papers.

“Well, the new girl is terrible at this,” you say flatly. “I certainly wouldn’t have let me walk in here unannounced. She’s too busy looking at her phone to look after you.”

Namjoon knows you’re right about that.

In the few short months you’ve worked for him, you’ve proven yourself to be unnaturally attuned to his needs. You knew without asking which calls he was trying to avoid and when, when to clear his schedule the day after a rough night on the streets. You’ve kept his office stocked with every comfort he’d ever wanted and some he hadn’t even realized he wanted.

You are the single best assistant he’s ever had and he couldn’t stand to keep you around for one minute longer.

You don’t wait for Namjoon to formulate some kind of response to your damning and accurate observation. By the time he looks back up from his papers, you’ve already turned on your heels to leave.

He watches you walk away with regret weighing heavy in his gut.

**************************

Namjoon’s keys clang loudly when he drops them on the table in his foyer.

This penthouse is the best apartment in one of the best buildings in Seoul. It’s filled with lavish furnishings and expensive paintings and boasts a stunning view of the Han River. It’s one of the finest residences in the city.

And Namjoon hates it.

The vacant rooms and the echoing walls seem to mock him, making him all the more aware of how empty it is. How completely devoid it is of any life. Most nights he stays at the office until he’s delirious with exhaustion just so he can collapse straight into bed once he gets here.

Tonight though, for once, this place seemed like a better option.

Namjoon pulls off his tie and releases the first few buttons of his shirt before pouring a scotch.

He’s drinking too much these days -- he knows it -- but the drinks help slow the constant movement of his mind. They help dull the anxiety that seems to take over when he’s too still for too long.

He walks to the window to look out over the night sky.

This is his favorite way to see the city -- high up enough that everything looks pristine. Get closer and you’ll be assaulted by the noise and the crowds and the pollution. Get closer and the flaws are too hard to ignore.

“Was there some kind of problem with my performance?”

Your words echo as clearly in Namjoon’s mind as if you’d spoken them out loud in this cavernous apartment. He takes a seat in his plush chair and sips his drink, savoring the familiar burn of the scotch.

He thinks back to when you both were kids.

Your father -- one of the few decent men in his own father’s inner circle -- didn’t bring you around much. He can only recall a few social functions you’d attended before taking off to university. News of your father’s death came shortly after that and it had been years since Namjoon had even spared a thought for you.

Then you came walking through his office door.

You definitely weren’t a kid anymore, that much was clear.

What was much less clear was why you -- a college graduate -- turned up one day, desperate for a job. He hadn’t questioned your need for fast work and fast money and you hadn’t questioned the long hours and strange requests.

You repaid him with a flawless work ethic.

And he repaid you by fantasizing about fucking you blind over his desk basically every chance he got.

So yeah, there was a problem, all right.

The problem was Kim Namjoon.

*********************

“There you are.”

The voice on the other end of the line practically slithers into Namjoon’s ear when he answers the late call.

“Mina,” he sighs, infusing the name with a displeasure that comes through loud and clear across the connection. “This line is for business only, you know that.”

Mina makes an exasperated sound.

“I wouldn’t have to call your cell if you’d return my messages from the office. I’ve been trying to reach you for more than two weeks now. I’m starting to feel like you’re avoiding me.”

Namjoon pulls the phone away to allow himself a long exhale before putting it back to his ear.

“How did you get this number?”

“You’re hung up on that?” Mina groans. “Honestly, Namjoon. I reached out to your new assistant who was more than happy to pass it along.”

Fuck. He’s going to have to fire the new girl, isn’t he?

“She’s a nice girl,” Mina muses. “Far more competent than that last assistant of yours. Excellent decision on replacing that woman if she fails to complete a task as simple as delivering a message. Three messages, actually.”

Namjoon mulls that information over in silence.

“Where is your mind these days, Mr. Kim?” Mina tries to cover her displeasure with a laugh but he hears it anyway. “You’ve been so distant lately. It’s been too long since we had the chance to enjoy one another’s company.”

Namjoon can envision the pout she is wearing on the other end of the line and it aggravates him beyond belief. Pouting ranks near the very top of his least favorite female manipulation tactics.

Pouting makes him want to put his fist through a wall.

“Are you still there?”

“Yes,” he mutters. “I’m here.”

“Are you drunk?”

Namjoon grits his teeth, fingers tightening around his glass.

“No, Mina,” he grinds out. “Not drunk. Just not in the mood. Not anymore.”

She sputters on the other end of the line as Namjoon ends the call.

Maybe he should feel bad about being so blunt, but he doesn’t. It’ll be a week before she’s onto the next wealthy, connected man. Women like Mina make sport of locating and latching on to power.

She’ll survive.

Namjoon stares out into the night sky and sips his scotch, letting his mind wander back to the one piece of the conversation that did capture his interest.

What are the chances that you -- a woman with seemingly unerring attention to detail -- forgot to deliver three separate messages from the same caller?

He contemplates that in the dark.

How odd.

***********************

YOU

Kim Namjoon was the most serious boy you’d ever seen.

Even as a young man, he seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. You can still close your eyes and remember exactly how he looked back then -- standing solemn at his father’s side, lanky body swimming in a suit he’d not yet grown into. His hair just a touch too long and falling into his eyes.

You thought he was the most handsome boy in all of Korea.

Namjoon kept mostly to himself -- no easy task given that his status alone made him the most celebrated catch amongst the children of the Gajog.

Everyone fought for the attention of the boy who would be king.

It would have been so easy for him to abuse the power he had over his peers, to treat them with disrespect, but Namjoon never did. You noticed how kind he was to the children who idolized him. You noticed how well he managed the volatile moods of his alcoholic father. You noticed how he hovered protectively over his sister.

He never noticed you, of course.

Your own father was careful to limit your exposure to the Gajog and as such, you lived on the outskirts of the social circle. By the time you were a teenager, you’d only spoken to Namjoon directly a handful of times. The few times you did see him face-to-face, you’d had to suffer through that awkward moment before his eyes lit with recognition.

It always took a minute for him to remember who you were, but when he finally did -- every time he finally did -- your heart would stop just a bit at his shy smile.

That was the image you held on to when you held your breath and walked into his office a few months ago. You’d taken a deep breath and prayed that the quiet, kind kid you’d known so long ago hadn’t changed too much over the years. And then you stepped into his posh office.

Kim Namjoon definitely wasn’t a kid anymore.

The Namjoon who stood up from behind his desk to bow a greeting was nothing short of devastating.

Standing in place of the slender boy from your childhood was a man with deep, dark eyes and a striking, angular face. His suit -- cut to fit every line of his body to an exacting standard -- did nothing to conceal his powerful frame. He had grown into the full lips that once seemed a bit too large for his face.

Without a doubt, he’d become the most handsome man in all of Korea.

The shy smile remained, though -- dimples prominent when Namjoon extended a hand to shake yours and you woodenly accepted, blinking back. You’d realized, absently, that you were gawking.

You hoped he hadn’t noticed the same thing.

If Namjoon had picked up on your mortifying reaction to seeing him after all these years, he was far too much of a gentleman to let on. He’d offered you a seat and then listened patiently as you explained that you were in need of a job -- any job -- so long as you could start right away.

You left out the painful details, of course.

Namjoon nodded quietly as you outlined your education and qualifications and emphasized your willingness to serve the Gajog in any role he saw fit. His eyes were warm and reassuring as you spoke, but you still braced yourself for the possibility that he’d send you away empty handed.

He didn’t.

At the end of your impassioned speech, Kim Namjoon made you an offer you could not refuse.

Reporting directly to him and starting right away.

***************************

The serious boy you’d known so many years ago had grown into an even more serious man.

It didn’t take long on the job to notice the bone-deep melancholy that seemed to emanate from Kim Namjoon. He was good at concealing it in front of others but you saw it clearly. The way he would stand at his window at night, drink in hand, brooding. The way the shadows behind his eyes would surface when he thought no one was looking.

But you were always looking.

You wanted so badly to help.

You wanted to do something to help ease the burden he seemed to carry around at all times. So you threw yourself into the work, memorizing his routines and taking note of the things he needed. You organized his files. You streamlined his schedule. You ran interference on Yoongi and Hoseok and Seokjin on the nights when his moods turned dark and ominous.

Tiny gestures, in the grand scheme of things -- but there were days when you could convince yourself the gestures made a difference.

Days when Namjoon would look at you with a quiet appreciation that made you feel heat down to your toes. Days when his eyes would soften as you’d instinctually met some need he hadn’t voiced out loud. Days when the darkness inside of him seemed to recede and one of those heart-stopping shy smiles would emerge.

You convinced yourself over time that this was enough -- that taking care of him like this would be enough for you.

It had to be enough.

To allow yourself to imagine otherwise was nothing short of delusion.

**********************

“Eomma?”

You call out into the quiet as you lock the door behind you. You can barely make out the sound of your mother’s soft reply from her bedroom.

This is where she spends most of her days now, shuffling between her bed and her chair, too weak to stand for more than a few minutes at a time. Pill bottles litter the nightstand, obscuring the yellowing photograph of your parents as newlyweds.

“My sweet Ttal,” she rasps, voice hoarse from disuse, “You’re home.”

“I am,” you sigh, sweeping into the room and pulling off your coat. You bend down to drop a kiss on her forehead before taking a seat at her side. Your mother’s once-luminous skin is now spotted with age, eyes cloudy and dull, but she is still one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen.

She flinches when you take one of her hands into your much colder ones.

“Sorry,” you murmur, massaging over the paper-thin skin. “It’s freezing outside. I should have warmed them first.”

She gives your fingers a gentle squeeze.

“Home early again,” she croaks. “Is everything okay at work?”

Her innocent question brings the sadness simmering just under the surface of your thoughts back to a full boil. You still can’t understand why Namjoon chose to reassign you -- and you still can’t forget the sting of getting the news secondhand from your replacement.

Your face falls at the memory and you hope your mother doesn’t notice.

The last thing you’d want to do is add worry to her already long list of concerns.

“Yes, Eomma,” you soothe, smoothing back her hair. She leans into your touch with a tired smile. “Everything is fine. My new boss doesn’t keep me as late as the old one did. But that’s a good thing, right?”

“Right,” she agrees, closing her eyes. “Mrs. Sim left just a short while ago. She brought some Japchae for dinner. Not as good as mine, but not half-bad, either.”

You laugh at the way the corner of her mouth lifts into a smile at her jest.

People like Mrs. Sim are in large part why you’ve fought so hard to keep your mother here in your childhood home. The financial strain has been tough -- particularly when paired with the medical bills -- but you need the help. With no siblings to share your burden, you’ve had to lean on the goodwill of longtime neighbors.

“Leave Mrs. Sim and her Japchae alone mother,” you tease, standing to stretch. “I’m going to get a shower before bed.”

Your mother makes a noise that sounds like approval, but you can tell she’s already drifting off again.

She’s on so many pills these days; a blessing and a curse. More pills means less pain and better rest -- something she desperately needs. But more pills also means far fewer moments of lucidity -- much shorter windows of time for you to enjoy your mother’s quick wit and dry humor.

She’s back in a sleep state before you even make to stand. You stroke your fingertips across her face just as your phone pings in your pocket. You pull it out and very nearly dismiss the routine banking alert altogether -- but something catches your eye.

You swipe into the app to confirm you’re seeing the numbers correctly -- that your tired eyes and tired mind aren’t playing games with you.

They aren’t.

The direct deposit of your paycheck is coming on the date it should, at the time it should. But the number glaring back at you from the screen is higher -- much higher -- than it should be.

A demotion and a raise in the span of one week?

How odd.

******************************

GLOSSARY:

Gajog: Family

Eomma: Mother

Ttal: Daughter

tag list: @barbikatherine

#namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon mafia au #bts mafia #ficswithluv #networkbangtan #btswriterscollective #btscreatorscorner #ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet

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mgsapphire · 3 years

Text

Ethics and morality... and how they're not the same...

Weird title, and I don't even know if I'll properly approach this one with all the topics I wish to this discuss in today's The Devil Judge essay, because a lot of things peaked my interest, I was debating on doing a separate post for each subject, but I'll do them all in here:

Starting simple

I know we're only 4 episodes in, but I want to break down the things that I often look for in a new show:

Cinematography

Soundtrack

Character building

Plot devices

Social commentary (sometimes)

Of course, these are things most people would consider basics, but I find that a lot of TV shows don't have enough balance in them. Also, cinematography and soundtrack are pretty up there for me because when a plot gets slow, or something like that, I stay for those two (biggest example: King Eternal Monarch).

The soundtrack in The Devil Judge is amazing and the cinematography can be a character of its own. They really get me hooked and are used as tools to properly tell a story. And I'll get into that further down this post.

The onlooker will never understand the actor

Experience is your best friend not only applies to job hunting, but it's true in the real world too. You can't truly weigh in on something unless you've experienced it yourself, you can give it your judgment and everything, but when bad things happen to someone, you'll never truly understand their pain. Am I bringing up because of the difference of mind in Judge Kang and Judge Kim's opinions? On how the public treated the minister's son? No. I'm talking about a very specific scene, where the cinematography told me to think that way and not the dialogue (it's that easy for my mind to be swayed). In episode 3, when the rich are about to dine right after the foundation's commercial for a better future, we see this aerial shot:

What's interesting about this? The seclusion and the enclosed feeling it conveys as a counterpart to the poverty shots we were just shown. Yet, these are the people making ads for a better future, what do they know?

They live comfortably behind concrete walls with no windows to see what goes on apart from the bubble they live in. This idea is further enforced at the party in episode 4, where they're not even a part of the donations, and watch and mock from afar as spectators. Yet, these people call the shots. They even call it commenting, as if they were watching the pain of others on TV.

The intriguing personality and the duality it encites

Now, this was a costume and wardrobe decision, but it was also very well thought of:

Judge Kim wears white and Judge Kang wears black. One is morally perceived by viewers of the show as morally good and the other is perceived as morally dubious at best. However, besides the costume and wardrobe thought put into this, we also have to think about the delivery of this scene and how it may further affect my detailing of this section. Judge Kang brings down the coats, and hangs over the coat to Judge Kim, he's the one who is making that annotation: You're pure, I'm tainted. This can have one of two interpretations:

Either Judge Kang believes Judge Kim to be pure and innocent due to his status as a rookie in the field

Or he believes Judge Kim to be morally white and himself morally black as he's looking at his brother's face and not at Judge Kim's heart.

Because most of the back story we're unveiling is through Judge Kim's perception, there's also an inherit bias we're having as well, because in Judge Kim narrative, he believes he's doing what's right and believes Judge Kang to be evil. In being served information about Judge Kang through Judge Kim's eyes, our bias is inherently skewed.

Another thing is that, when they put on the coat, they're standing in front of the other, as if the producers of this series are telling us they're two sides of the same coin.

The duality is made in more deceitful ways, which include:

A difference of classes that implies one has suffered while the other has not.

A difference of experience that implies one is more tainted while the other is pure.

A difference of age that implies one is a sly fox while the other one is is bunny about to be eaten.

A difference of temper that makes one erratic and the other logical.

Power dynamics

This one, in this one I could make a whole thesis based on just a couple of scenes in the drama. And you know I have to mention it: director Jung being the puppeteer.

It may not be as unexpected at first, nevertheless it brings forward a lot of things I've wished to touch upon for quite some time now. A woman being a puppeteer of an old man in the portrayed dystopia that The Devil Judge is painting makes much more sense than more common demonstrations of these dynamics where it's either a:

A man of power being controlled by a bigger man of power.

A man of power being controlled by a seemingly man of a lower status.

A woman being controlled by a man of power.

Although, there's nothing wrong with those power dynamics, and if they were to be used, a message could also be conveyed, this one in particular works as a megaphone.

A subversion of power in such a way can be interpreted as a true indication of the weak overcoming the powerful. Why? It is not that woman are naturally weaker than men, but that in society, patriarchy has been a big factor in taking voice away from women in order to give it to men.

In order for Director Jung to achieve her purposes, it's smarter for her to do it under the pretense that an old rich man in power is the one calling the shots.

This is better exemplified by her stance when the old man tries to excuse his behavior, and what her moral compass is. I'm not saying I agree with her unethical conduct, but that her morality is directly impacted by the perception of the public of her as a weak woman:

Just because a dog bites a human does the person get dirty?

This is telling on how she perceives the actions of the old man in gropping the waitress. She didn't do anything wrong, even if you touched her, you are the dirty one.

While she's evil, it's a refreshing and deep evil.

The public's opinion and how there's actually logic in the show's portrayal

The public opinion can make or break a person, even if it's not on a public trial like this. While "cancel culture" barely works in today's society, a person's reputation is forever tainted. The show does tell that, but it also exhibits the scary downside of it, by showing how easily it was to make people accept flaggelation as a fitting punishment.

There are many experiments that have tried to test the effect of societal pressure on an individual's decision and the effect of the authority's enforcement of power in the outcome of these decisions. Furthermore, theories based on analysis of human behavior not necessarily relying on experiments can also help break this down. What do I mean? Here's a small attempt at explaining:

Milgram Experiment on Authority: which measured the individual willingness to carry out actions that go against their conscience due to an authority's approval.

Argument from Authority; The idea that people are more likely to use an authority's opinion on something as an argument for their reason. This is often seen in science, where trusted authorities have done the research and offer it to the public. In here, authority bias also plays a role, as we often believe, at first, that an authority must be right.

Moral disengagement: basically speaking, because this is evil or bad, I'm not part of it and I most probably am not actively participating in it. One may disengage by moral justification, which means that before engaging in something that has been previously perceived as immoral, I'm changing my stance on it based on what I tell myself to be logical arguments. This particular form of moral disengagement is very effective in changing the public opinion. I'll be touching on another form further down this post.

Other factors played a part, but these ones in particular came to mind when public flagelation as a form of corporeal punishment was wildly accepted. First, an authority is the one telling them it's correct, to go ahead. Secondly, another authority (the minister) had previously shown approval to such unusual punishment. Thirdly, they are not the ones to be engaging directly in the act, and even if they were, it would be acceptable because an authority has told them so. They may even believe the punishment to be a necessary evil for the greater good.

In fact, the minister's son was actually correct when pleading his case, they were accepting it because it wouldn't affect them directly.

Regarding the cinematographic descent of the public opinion regarding the situation can better be exemplified by the old man we've seen through the episodes.

Does suffering justify misdeeds?

Today I came along the difference between excuse and reason. You may give a reason for your behavior, but it doesn't excuse it.

Not because I've suffered through shit, means I have to make you suffer too.

I may explain myself, but it's on the other side to excuse me.

Why I hate the unreliable narrator and why I love it so much

This story has been told mostly through the eyes of Judge Kim and what he hears and sees regarding Judge Kang, if anything, the narrative is very close to that of the narrative we've seen in The Great Gatsby. An enigmatic man is being narrated to us from the eye of a man who hasn't known him for a long time.

How is that an unreliable narrator? The narrator has their own set of bias and moral standards which function as lenses through which they see the world.

Another way of putting it would be the way teenage romances are often written in a first person narrative where either of the two teenagers is the narrator, so the author can sell to us something as simple as offering a pack of gum as the most romantic act on earth. We're perceiving interactions through rose tainted glasses.

In this case, we're seeing the interactions through Judge Kim's eyes who doesn't trust Judge Kang from the get go due to his own preset bias.

The narrative becomes even more unreliable as we're not exactly sure if what Judge Kang disclosed himself is a fact.

The reason why I love this narrative is because it leaves a lot of space to make simple plot twists to a narrative and make them seem grand, and can elongate a story without making it obvious.

The reason why I hate it is because sometimes, in tv shows mostly, we as viewers can see the other side of the story and grow increasingly frustrated with the main character's prejudice and misunderstandings (I'm looking at you my beloved Beyond Evil).

Also, because I have to wait for a long time before I actually have a clear picture of it.

#kdrama #kdramas #kdrama recommendations #analysis #rant #the devil judge #got7 #park jinyoung #ji sung #kdrama meta #kdrama quotes #kdrama analysis #meta #the great gatsby #kim min jung #please dont let this flop

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celestialgaea · 3 years

Note

1. I LOVE your writing! You're amazing! 2. If it's not too much trouble, could I request something for brotherhood Ezio - either fluff or smut (maybe a hybrid if such a thing exists?)

These requests really make my heart soft :,) It’s definitly not troublesome at all, darling! a smut/fluff is coming your way :)) enjoy reading!

btw, I always had the concept in mind of Ezio being a nude model for a painter/paintress so I used it as inspiration for this request, I hope you like it!

Pairings: Brotherhood!Ezio x Reader

warnings: smut, fluff, mature content

summary: Ezio convinces you of using his nude body as reference for your painting and that’s where things start to get heated.

A sound of raging growls left your throat as it was the sixth time you scratched away the slender torso that was sketched upon the parchment. It was slender, too slender for it to be still considered human. Ironic. The Greek gods were inhuman, but you were unable to project the divine muscles that roamed in your thoughts onto the piece of dried lamb skin. You missed Florence, dearly, and since the first week that you had left the vivid city to live in the unknown town of Monteriggioni you thought that the quiet farms, where trees of oranges grew, would help revive the inspiration to paint a Magnum Opus but it only dried the river of colour in your head. You couldn’t compare Florence to a third rate town as Monteriggioni. You could still recall the smell of paint and the dusty marmer that stained the Florentin air of the market, and the sight of novices carrying their painting supplies as they were on their way to class. You missed how you used to visit churches, not to pray, but rather to admire the fresco’s. Now it was all gone. No inspiration and the few churches that existed in this village were sober and only consisted of a giant crucifix and a statue of Madonna holding her child.

bang bang. Someone knocked on the door of your atelier. With a dissatisfied grunt you threw the charcoal pencil on the ground and shoved your seat back with a strong force, causing an abrasive sound to be heard from outside the small building.

‘Who is there?’ You asked sharply as you walked towards the wooden door. You tried to regain your patience and freshened your cheeks, which was red of annoyment, by pressing your abnormally cold palms against them.

‘It’s me, Ezio.’ His voice was unclear due to the door that seperated you, but it did not spoil the low rumble that was always present in his speech. You pressed your eyelids together rather harshly and groaned in regret. How shameful musn’t it be to shoot invisible daggers towards Ezio as just the thought of his intimidting gaze locked on your face after your scene of lost temper made you wish you hid instead of confronting him. You weren’t scared of him, you were scared of embaressment.

You opened the door to the sight of Ezio leaning against the doorframe, one eyebrow arched in question.

‘I came to check up on you, ragazza. It sounded as if you were fighting off pirates in there.’ You felt how your face heated up against your will and you tried to laugh it of with a breathless snicker. ‘The only thing I was fighting with were my sketches,’ You stepped aside, exposing a part of your artist studio. It was not big, as it was perfect to fit in a few tables and art easels with canvasses of variating sizes, but it was practical enough to be able to craft in peace. But it seems that the serene peace wasn’t present anymore these past weeks.

‘Where are my manners, come in.’ With a faint smile he swiftly entered and closed the door.

‘Lack of inspiration?’ He asked. You nodded. ‘Not only that, It is impossible to find any references to bodies as muscled as those of the Greek Gods. Monteriggioni isn’t filled with art as in Firenze, thus making it difficult for me to find those references.’ As you looked at him from the side, you saw how perfect his body posture was to be used as reference; It was flexible and broad, yet it was intimidating and yet not graceful enough to be that of a dancer.

Ezio hummed in understanding. He was slightly proud that he still had the ability to make you blush, even in his forties, when he caught your eyes wandering through his clothing. ‘Why don’t you use models like Leonardo does? You could ask him to lend some to you,’ You grinned. ‘Ezio, my dear. The only references to human bodies that Leonardo uses are either dug up from their grave or strangers with the most inhuman facial complexion. Leonardo is fascinated by the misshapen, not the divine.’

‘Well, if the ancient Greeks believed that women were the misshapen copies of men, then I confirm myself as being fascinated by the misshapen. My dear.’ He mocked. His lips curled into a sly smirk and he winked at you, but you merely scoffed playfully as you shook your head and walked towards the chaotic scene that played upon your desk; Scattered parchment with incomplete sketches, charcoal pencils and quills thrown all over the table and, at the moment, irrelevant attributes such as a skull and a terracotta bust of Bacchus -A marmer bust was way too expensive for the meager loan you had to live with-

‘Charmed.’ You said, not impressed. Maybe slightly impressed.

‘As I thought you would be,’

The open space of the studio behind you felt enclosed as the soft touch of Ezio’s breath caressed the nape of your neck. His eyes roamed over the table, observing every object -he even squatted down and stared into the dead eyes of Bacchus-, and trailed alongside the lines of your sketches with his middle and index finger pressed together, the two fingers levitating above the charcoal lines.

‘Why did you scratch them? It is beautiful. Well, I am not going to lie, it looks a bit...how should I word it?’ He mumbled. ‘Bad?’ ‘A bit out of proportion,’ He trailed alongside the torso with the same two fingers. ‘See,’ Ezio said. ‘The torso is a bit too long, and the muscles are too muscled.’

You scoffed, a small laugh plastered on your face. ‘Too muscly,’ You mumbled to yourself. ‘Ezio, I don’t know if you have noticed but I do not have any male models nor have I seen a man naked before. No, I mean, not that I am a virgin. But I just haven’t seen a naked man with the right size.’ Good Lord. Ezio grinned, not ashamed for the innapropriate phrase that kept resonating in his head, and locked eyes with you as he raised one eyebrow. You shivered. It was that one raised eyebrow that made his face so intimidating, so intense. ‘Not the right size, huh?’

‘You know what I mean, old man.’ He scoffed. His hand covered his breast and he pretended to be in pain. ‘You wound me with your words, bella.’

Oh Ezio. He was so entertaining. He was probably one of the very few reasons your stay in Monteriggioni will last for a very long time. Leaving him would make you feel empty. Ezio had a way of pulling women (and also men) towards him, chaining them with such a scorching desire that it would feel injust and even sinful to break the invisible attraction He brought those small moments of thrills and excitement with him whenever he just walked by making you want his attention to be focused on you and solely you.

‘I could send an apprentice of mine to model, but only if you’d like?’ ‘Are they quite muscled? I need a body that represents the gods and not 17 year old boys who are only interested in horses and girls.’ ‘No, judging by the statues I have seen in Florence they wouldn’t be a very great choice. And besides, I don’t think that they can stand still, naked, for a few hours while a beautiful lady has a clear view of their cazzo without, you know, the visuals showing their excitement.’

Your facial expressions showed slight disgust as you were imagining their erect member and face, reddened with shame, while they were posing as one of the Greek deities. Well, to be fair, you couldn’t expect less. They were boys with raging hormones, and you were a young adolescent that was not able to conceil her raging hormones from experienced and charming men. Or shortly said; Ezio.

Speak of the devil.

Ezio noticed the disgust on your face and emitted a low and rumbling snicker as he patted your back, the impact of his force causing your shoulder to be shoved forwards. ‘Keep your sneaky little mind away from my apprentices private parts will you?’

‘Ezio!’ You hit his arm, your mouth open and pretending to be shocked by his remark, but you couldn’t help but curl your mouth into a smile. ‘Back to our previous topic,’ You said, recovering from what just had happened. ‘I really need to find a male model for my project, Ezio.’ Ezio happened to show empathy with you as he began taking off his boots.

‘Ezio, what in heaven are you doing? Put those back on! Ezio what are you thinking?’ Nailed to the floor you looked at ezio who was only wearing his trousers and chemise, its string loosened and showing the flesh upon his chest, and had his hands on the sides of the edge of his pants, ready to take them of and show the world what momma gave him. ‘I am sacrificing my pride for the sake of your painting.’

Your eyes widened. ‘Would you do that for me? Really?’ ‘Bella, what does it look like I am doing?’ He grinned, taking off the rest of his clothing as you had turned around to reorganize your table and prepared the small podium on which Ezio had to model.

‘And besides, what did you mean with Sacrificing your pride?’ You heard Ezio sigh while you sharpened your charcoal pencils. ‘All these men on Classical paintings have a...well, you know, a small penis, so you will have to reduce mine...a lot.’ You laughed, placing the pencils on the table. ‘Oh, Ezio, I don’t really think it will be necessary.’ You said teasingly. You sat down behind the desk when you heard his voice floating around your ears as he walked towards the small podium, every inch of his skin exposed for you and only you. ‘Prego?’

It was difficult to keep your gaze off his private part. It was just...hanging there, minding its bussiness. It was as if your insulting remark about his member just spat back at you with double as much spit. You managed to clear your throat in a subtle way without choking on your saliva. ‘You’ll have to lay down.’ You said. You stood up to grasp a few layers of cloth to cover the small stage to save Ezio’s behind a bit from the harsh ground. It felt weird to be so near him; He was naked and you were clothed.

You quickly smoothened the cloth onto the stage, fixating your disorientated eyes on it, and walked, almost ran, with rapid speed back to your desk.

It still felt like a fever dream. You were able to get the most skilled murderer fully naked in front of you, without asking once. As it felt surreal, it simutaniously felt forbidden too. He was way older, a teacher of a kind, how many women wouldn’t have killed for this chance. For seeing Ezio naked, almost vulnurable without his armour. Vulnurable for attack as told by the white lining of the remaining scars on his body.

‘Lay down and lean on your elbows,’ And so he did. ‘Put one knee up. No the other knee, Ezio. Not so high, go a bit lower. Not that low. Yes, stay like that!’ Ezio grinned softly. ‘You are very demanding, aren’t you bella?’ ‘You iniated on being my model, Ezio, so do as I say.’ Ezio raised an eyebrow as he tilted his head, sucking air through his teeth, sounding similar to scorching metal in cold water. ‘My apologies, maestro.’

His body was beautiful. Not too brawny and not fat. Broad muscles showing through his skin and simultaneously a layer of soft fat hugged around his torso, but it didn’t hang nor did it seem loose, It was tight and gave Ezio’s body comfortable for burning cuddles.

You gave a last look at Ezio’s position, observing it, but something felt wrong. It felt plain, flat. It didn’t have your desired dimentions.

‘Ezio,’ He turned his head towards you. ‘Could you touch the ground with your left hand and move your torso towards your lifted knee. Let your right arm rest upon that raised knee, yes, just like that.’ It was better. More rounded than flat. And the most beautiful of all was how above his pubic hair, which was trimmed, small layers of skin bundled upon each other, giving more dimention to his body.

You picked up the stylus - a metal pen- with satisfaction and began carving lines onto the parchment. Those lines slowly became basic shapes until more shade and more complexity was added to them. Ezio’s eyes kept sailing from around the room to your concentrated face. It must be intimidating for him whenever it took only fractions of seconds before you raised your eyes to look at him every single time. And every time he wondered how many seconds it would last this time before you watched him again.

‘Do you do this a lot? Using nude models?’ Ezio asked. You stood halt in your drawing to look up at him. ‘Well, No. Back in Firenze I was too ashamed to ask for one. If the word would spread about a women making a carreer out of brush strokes instead of a man stroking her to let her bear him a son, they’d burn my paintings. And they may burn my paintings, but i’ll still use the ashes to draw a big cazzo on the front door of their homes.’ You said, slightly flinching at the thought of your face being tortured by the sweltering flames that are devouring your art works. Ezio laughed. His wide-opened mouth created deep curving lines next to it, sparkling eyes squinting at you.

How did he do it? How was he capable of making you desire him with just a smile. A smile of confidence. A smile of which hundreds of women fell for. Let alone how his body would call for company as melancholy and charm hung like a perfume around him.

‘Eccezionale,’ He grinned in a breath. ‘And in Monteriggioni?’ ‘The average male in this village is almost expired. They’re at least fifthy.’

‘You don’t older men?’ He asked teasingly. Yes you did, especially him. ‘There is a difference between older and old. Old men are almost expired. Older men, on the other hand, are more matured and experienced.’

With a last look at the sketch you laid down the stylus and motioned for Ezio to move again. You quickly added some shadows around the sillhouette around the body as you felt Ezio stand behind you.

‘And what is “older” to you?’ ‘You ask a lot of Questions, Ezio. Aren’t you Il mentore?’ His broad shoulders casted a shadow on your cheek that was turned to his side. ‘I’m curious. Isn’t a man allowed to ask questions? Especially if he’s as expired as me?’ You scoffed.

‘Ezio, you are not expired. You aren’t old.’

‘I’ll be turning fifthy in five years.’

‘That’s still ages away from now.’

‘Time flies, bella.’

‘Well, mentore, I don’t perceive you as old. In fact, you are mature and very sharp.’ You stole a quick glance of his private part before letting your gaze wander towards the floor. How was he able to keep himself so tame when the tension was creating a heated knot in your lower stomach? The knot kept contracting with every breath from Ezio’s soft lips that brushed against your neck and the radiating heat from his naked body caused by the Florentine sun that tortured his skin underneath the layers of his heavy assassin robes.

You turned around, trapped in between the wooden desk and Ezio’s nudeness, and placed a hand on his bicep. ‘How aren’t you burned yet underneath all those layers of clothing.’ Your eyes locked with his. ‘I have very thick skin,’ He palmed your hand in his and lead it down his muscular arm, rubbing against its hot skin, let it follow the curves of his muscles back up to his chest. You didn’t even need to glance down to see that his good old friend has “awakened”.

Ezio’s hand caressed your collarbone and slid down, only to stop at the cleavage of your gown. With his index finger he easily pulled the piece of fabric away from your chest, exposing your breasts that were visible through the thin night gown.

He hummed in satisfaction.

Ezio disposed you of your clothes in a slow and agonizing manner until your naked body was hugged by the warm air that filled the art studio. His eyes, filled with passionate lust, wandered over your whole body, absorbing every inch of naked skin. Ezio pressed his body close to you and you felt how his manhood, swollen with blood, was pressed against your stomach. Ezio kissed your lips. His lips covering your upper lip as you softly nibbled on his bottom lip. His tongue wetted the entrance of your mouth before the warmth of his saliva got mixed with yours. Ezio’s hands roamed your whole body, he wanted to take all of you, touch all of you, feel every piece of your hot skin lingering against his. His hands trailed back to your upper thighs and rubbed them as his fingers curled to grip the soft flesh of it. His warm hands felt rough and experienced against your inner thighs, it felt like everything that desire is.

Ezio pulled your legs around his waist and carried you the the small improvised podium of layered blankets as his one hand held the fold at the backside of your knee and the other was pressed against your lower back.

You couldn’t describe how overwhelmed you where with all these sensory feelings. Your contracting stomach, heating core and tickling neck, caused by Ezio’s lips and teasing nips, made you close your eyes and press your legs tighter around his torso. You pressed yourself against Ezio while you yearned for his body engulfing yours in this passionate warmth as Ezio’s hot breaths left humid spots on your neck.

His lips kissed your collarbone and so he went down with smouldering and slow kisses down to the curve in between the mounds of your breasts. His hand cupped your breast and massaged your nipple with his thumb as his mouth place kisses on the side of your other breast before tracing to your nipple and holding it between his lips.

your breathing became irregular, some were sharp and some were pitched. Your hands took a grip on Ezio’s broad back and you couldn’t help but groan in a breath. His body slid down on yours until he stopped above your pubic bone, a trail of saliva covered your torso. Ezio placed your legs on his shoulders, holding onto your thighs, and he breathed so softly against your humid entrance.

It felt tingly and increased your need for him to touch you. Ezio’s fingers caressed your labia as his hot and humid tongue slid up your crease. Your breath hitched. His lips covered your clit, his beard tickling your inner thighs, kissing it before taking it between his lips and sucking on it. You groaned. Your clit was pusling and you felt how your entrance was filled with so much ecstasy. Ezio kept licking, nibbling and just making you feel on cloud nine until you felt how tension was layering and building up in your core and you felt how it was almost going to explode in bright colours of the sweet relieve. But Ezio stopped before you could taste that pure sweetness and how much you disliked it, the builded up tension slowly died down.

‘Why did you stop?’ You asked defeatedly. Ezio smirked. ‘I want us to finish together,’ You were surprised. ‘Because I can’t wait any longer to be inside of you.’ Ezio slid back up so his lips could reach your mouth again. You enveloped your leg around his waist and Ezio gripped the fold of your knee, slowly pressing your thigh against your chest.

He groaned as the tip of his manhood entered slowly. He stopped after a few inches of his manhood had entered so you’d adapt to his lenght and width and began pumping slowly before he’d let his whole penis enter inside of you inch by inch. He filled you so good.

Ezio began pumping in and out between your slick walls and went rougher. The sweetness and lust of the moment made both of your groan in synch. But the more he motioned inside of you, the more your groans became heartfelt moans. You grabbed ezio’s back as you bit on his shoulder. With every push and every thrust of his body against yours the sinful sounds of hitting skin was like background music for the hymn of your moans. Ezio grabbed your thigh and pushed himself deeper, which you doubt was still possible, and the poor man was lost in deep groans. He kept you close to him as he filled you until the building up layers made you speed up, shortening the silence between every clap of skin. ‘Ezio,’ You whispered in lost sweetness. The more tension that build up, the more the yearning for that sweet relieve became. ‘(Y/N),’ He groaned in your ear, huskily.

Only a few strokes and you were there, both of you. Oh, sweet Lord, how you were losing your mind in a blurr of white light. Just those few last strokes and you’d explode. You were almost there...almost...and ‘Ezio!’ The ball of squeezed tension exploded into a firework of sweetness and fire. Ezio came inside of you with squeezed eyes and a groan before he let himself relax onto you. Your chests were elevating in an irregular rythm.

‘Mio Dio,’ You whispered in amazement. Ezio slid out of you and took the excess length of the cloth to cover both of you.

‘So when are you free to come back? To finish the painting?’

‘Very soon, Bella, very soon.’

#ezio auditore da firenze #ezio auditore #ezio auditore fanfiction #assassins creed fanfiction #assassins creed brotherhood #ezio x reader #older ezio x reader #smut fanfiction #ezio auditore smut

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thatasianstereotype · 4 years

Text

Fuck. I’m Gay.

I’ve been reading a lot of ml salt fics lately (mainly @unmaskedagain which is a literal goldmine of saltiness). And getting into the Damienette ship. Marinette really does deserves better (Fuck Canon) but so does Adrien. He is not a “sidekick”. Chat Noir and Ladybug are partners = equals. So I decided why not write a fic where Adrien gets his own happy ending in the form of a grumpy assassin-turned-vigilante that loves animals more than people.

Somewhat of a crack writing where creative liberties were definitely taken.

Lila Rossi is a bitch and everyone knew it. Well, by everyone, Adrien means himself, his good-amazing-make-pastries-for-him friend Marinette, his maybe-not-really-sure friend Chloe and his-not-that-close-really-classmate Nathaniel.

Yeah. It was a small number.

But Lila is still a bitch.

Anyway, Lila’s lies and manipulations have disturbed the status quo and not in a good way. She ended up making the majority of the class fawn over her like she was a perfect goddess and not a pompous-temperamental-hormonal teenager. Teenagers were prone to be gullible; he can understand his classmates being inclined to believe her. But this was utterly ridiculous (man, Chloe is rubbing off on him). No. You know what’s even more ridiculous? Ms. Bustier letting Lila get away with it. She doesn’t even stop the class mistreating Marinette who claimed she was a bully just because of you know who - Fucking Lila Rossi. The audacity of that bitch and her bitchy followers, am I right?

Growing up he watched the tv shows and the animes. High schools always had their drama but he thought that was to get some plot going on. He didn’t think it was an actual thing that happens in real life. But he was proven wrong. Françoise Dupont High School had their drama and it was way worse than what he watched on screen.

The worst part was that he couldn’t get away from Lila. Or he’ll be pulled from school (Fuck you Dad). He had to sit next to that bitch and listen to her drone on and on about things they both knew she didn’t do, about things she promised to do for her ever gullible followers friends. And couldn’t say anything against it if he wanted to stay in school. But even his discreet questioning didn’t do that much. It got some of the class to think something’s possibly fishy with her stories but not enough to think Lila was evil. So he just gave up. Because what was even the point?

He was distancing himself from Alya and Nino. He couldn’t really be friends with people who thought Lila held the sun and moon. They didn’t hang out as much as they used to and he made excuses when they did invite him to stuff. Lately, he was making outrageous excuses - like he had to take his cat to the vet even though he didn’t have a cat - to see if they caught on. They didn’t. It was fun but he didn’t know whether to feel happy or sad about that. But feeling sad-depressed-pain over it was a bitch so he decided to take his victories as they come.

Chloe had left the school earlier on. Her mom wanted to spend one-on-one time with her daughter (Yeah, Audrey is better at being a mother here). She was completely out of this drama mess. And Nathaniel kept his head down to not paint a target on himself.

His only consolation and ally in this whole mess was Marinette. His darling angel. His sunshine incarnate. His own goddess (not like that bitch Lila let’s get one thing straight).

When he was feeling overwhelmed (which was a lot), he spent it at her house. They spent it discussing fashion, trash talking Liar-la and the sheep class, playing video games, and making/eating the best baked goods in all of Paris. If he wasn’t at his photo shoots or at school, he was at her house. And with how often they spent time with each other, it wasn’t long before they accidentally revealed their alter egos to each other.

(The class’ Everyday Ladybug was actually Ladybug. How amazing is that! Isn’t Marinette the absolute coolest?!)

Since they outed themselves to each other, they had to give up their miraculous. And new heroes had to be chosen. As the guardian, Marinette decided to give the Ladybug miraculous to herself and the Cat one to Adrien. And make them the superheros of Paris.

(Just when he thought that Marinette couldn’t get any cooler)

They both collectively decided that being friends were for the best and put away their obsession crush over the other far far away. Now they were best friends-almost siblings. Oh who was he kidding? He was an honorary Dupain-Cheng. Marinette and her parents said so. And who was he to deny the goddess?

All was well.

Until he met this gorgeous boy with raven black hair and piercing green eyes that made him question everything in life.

Like fuck. His life wasn’t hard enough already?

It was a slow patrol. Just stopped a few petty crimes. No akuma tonight. He wasn’t really expecting much to happen.

Mari said patrolling regularly gives citizens a sense of security and it helps if one of them were on scene if an akuma does appear.

He didn’t mind. He loved running on the rooftops and feeling the wind in his face. After some time, he stopped and stood on top of one of the tallest buildings. Just soaking the view. The peace and serenity of it all. Seeing the glowing lights of his beloved city. Seeing the Eiffel Tower standing tall and proud.

(Forget school. Forget Liar-la and her hoard of bitches)

This was his city. This was why he fights Hawk Moth with Ladybug. They had something precious to protect.

He was done patrolling the regular routes and all his schoolwork was already finished. He could go to sleep but he didn’t feel that tired. And he really didn’t want to go back home. Mari shared her theory on his dad being Hawk Moth. She had really good reasons and a plethora of proof. If they could switch miraculous, why couldn’t he and Mayura - most likely Nathalie? Which would explain how Gabriel got akumatized.

After all her support with dealing with Lila, he was way more inclined to believe her even without the evidence. But those things just made him more wary of his dad. And he wasn’t too stoked on spending more time than what he can get away with with the guy. Because his dad being Hawk Moth explains why he wants Lila (his strongest supporter - Chameleon and Oni-chan, anyone?) close and makes Adrien play nice with her. And anyone who enables Lila’s bitchiness is on his enemy list.

Anyway, he was out here to enjoy the good mood not think about evil bitches and evil dads. So he sat himself down and enjoyed the sights. It was more calming than you would think.

He heard cars blaring and even a dog barking. The slight breeze felt nice. The moon was pretty bright tonight. The stars too. There was a lone couple walking through the park. There was also another teen in black running on rooftops a few buildings away.

Wait.

What?

He blinked and looked again. Huh, there was another teen in black running on rooftops. And it was not a hallucination.

What the actual fuck?

He was instantly on his feet, baton already in hand as he raced across the roof to reach said stranger.

“Hey!”

But because he was the lucky owner of the unlucky miraculous, the moment he said that, the guy was about to jump off a building to presumably roll onto the next one like Chat was watching him do beforehand. But his call made him lose focus and Chat watched horrified as the guy slipped and started falling into the alley.

Oh fuck! Mari was going to fucking kill this dumbass kitty!

He hoped to everything that Mari thinks is holy that he makes it in time. Extending his baton, he used it as a huge Pogo stick to basically catapult himself towards the stranger and wrapped his arms around him as he braced himself for the full weight of hitting the gravel at this height and speed. But he wasn’t that that concerned. His suit protected him from the majority of the injuries that would’ve occurred if he wasn’t wearing it. It hurt but it isn’t as bad as it could’ve been. Remember earlier? He takes his victories as they come.

This was not the smartest of ideas, he’ll admit. Mari had the brains to be honest. But it wasn’t bad if he say so. And he does say so.

He rolled over and immediately looked over the stranger that was remarkably unharmed in this whole mess.

And oh.

Oh.

The stranger was taller than he was with a lithe and lean frame. He had raven black hair that complimented his tanned skin and gorgeous green eyes that pierced through him, making his heart do funny things.

He was not expecting him to look as hot as he did. He wore a simply black t-shirt and jeans but he looked like a fucking Adonis, what the fuck. Even the moon shone down on him, highlighting his handsome features even more.

He shook himself of those thoughts and focused on what was more important. “I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

He was rudely pushed away, but he didn’t take offense. He did cause the guy to fall after all.

“Do not touch me.” (What kind of accent is that?) “I’m fine. You are truly a moronic imbecile of the highest accord to yell like that. And what are you even supposed to be? Some kind of knock-off Catwoman?”

At that, Chat looked at Hot-And-Sexy weird. “Are you new here? I’m the superhero Chat Noir. I protect Paris with Ladybug.”

“You’re joking.”

“I know I come off as the goofy hero because I make purr-fect puns all the time but I’m not joking about this.”

He took out his phone to show the foreign (since he’s obviously not a Parisian) stranger the akuma attacks and Ladybug and Chat Noir being a dynamic duo, saving Paris and beating Hawk Moth. Ok, he showed the stranger a lot of stuff. Sue him. He gets to brag about his Princess. And himself too.

“I never heard about this before.” Hot-And-Sexy (he has got to come up with a better name) said afterward. “3 years this has been going on? Why didn’t you ask for help from the Justice League or other superheros?”

Chat shrugged. “We tried. But they said we’re obviously pulling a prank and making this all up. So we stopped asking for help.”

For some reason this made Hot-And-Sexy angry. “They ignored your plea for help and left you to fight for yourselves?”

“Pretty much, yea.”

“You and Ladybug are children.”

“Excuse me? Are you doubting our ability to protect our city?" He was not apologetic at the sharp edge his voice took. Forget looking hot. How dare he? The audacity really.

Hot-And-Sexy shook his head. “I’m not. I know some child superheroes who are adequate at their jobs and a few who are remarkable like Robin in Gotham. But the majority of them had adult mentors to guide them. From what you’ve shown me, you and Ladybug had no one. You were left alone to fend for yourself with essentially no help.”

He never thought of it that way. But hearing it like that made him think: Fuck Adults Who Chose Children to Fight Their War For Them and Fuck Hawk Moth For Putting Them In This Position In The First Place.

You know what. Just to clear all his bases - Fuck Everyone But The Dupain-Chengs.

Chat couldn’t help but shrug, not quite knowing what to say to that. “Life is a bitch, I’ve come to find out. But enough of that. Why were you running on rooftops anyway?”

“It calms me down.”

Relatable.

“Is...Is your tail moving?”

“Huh?” He looked behind him to see his tail was indeed moving lazily. “Yeah. I’m called Chat Noir for a reason.”

“May I touch them?” Chat was used to people (usually kids) pulling on his tail to see if it was real (It was). And it really hurts because they usually rough. Not that he blames them. Kids don’t know any better. Still, he usually says no when people ask.

But Hot-And-Sexy had such a sincere expression that he said yes. To his surprise and delight, Hot-And-Sexy was extremely gentle (Can this guy be anymore perfect?) and it felt nice to be petted like that. Curse his touch-starvation (again Fuck you Dad).

Hot-And-Sexy was apparently fascinated by his ears and tail.

“Are you a meta?” He noticed how Hot-And-Sexy’s voice turned softer and fonder (or was he imagining that?).

“Nah. I’m fully human. I just got powers to transform into this.” He looked down at his phone seeing that the time was nearing 2 am.

“Have you suffered any injuries from your stupid stunt?”

“Hmm?” Chat looked back at him before gesturing to his body. “Don’t worry. I may not look like it but I can take it.”

He can practically feel Hot-And-Sexy rolling his eyes. “What an utter dolt.”

But there wasn’t any heat behind it so he didn’t take it to heart.

“Thanks, babe.”

“That was an insult.”

“And I’m taking it like a compliment.”

Chat stood up and stretched his limbs. Hot-And-Sexy doing the same but dusting off his clothes instead.

“So, uh, need any help getting home?”

“I am perfectly capable of finding my own way, thanks.”

“Ok. Have a nice night.” He was about to leave when he was caught off guard by Hot-And-Sexy staring at him for a good few seconds, making his limbs freeze in place at the heavy attention.

Before he said. “You should try contacting the Batfamily in Gotham about Hawk Moth. They’re used to dealing with weird things. I’m sure they won’t turn you or Ladybug away.”

Chat was a bit distracted by how intensely those green eyes focused on him, making his heart beat faster and his cheeks turn a vibrant red.

He was so screwed.

He used his baton to shoot himself up so he can run on rooftops, hurrying to the Dupain-Cheng bakery.

“Mari! I think I’m gay!”

“It’s 2 in the morning, Chaton. Go to sleep and we’ll talk about it in the morning.”

After a good night’s rest (and thank everything that was right in the world that today was a weekend), Adrien told Mari all about Hot-And-Sexy. And yes, he did call the stranger that out loud. His everything-that-actually-matters sister simply took it in stride after giggling a bit. They spent the majority of the day discussing emotions and everything that came with that bundle.

Before he finally came to a conclusion.

He is definitely gay (He liked girls but not like like them). And most definitely had a crush on Hot-And-Sexy with the pretty green eyes.

Good news: He is no longer having a sexuality crisis.

Bad news: He is going through an emotional crisis.

Like dealing with these feelings that is making his stomach flip flop over and over again? The only one he ever had to deal with was the one he had on Ladybug and that (he talked with Mari about it months before. She was amazing with these emotional matters) was more of a hero-worship crush than anything really romantic.

And his crush on Hot-And-Sexy was so much more.

So it’s been about 2 weeks since he encountered Hot-And-Sexy. And he still haven’t figured out what else to call him. But the nickname was growing on him.

(He also told Mari about asking the Batfam for help but she was a bit apprehensive after the disastrous attempts of convincing the Justice League. He shrugged, trusting her opinion and left it at that)

Anyway, Lila was being her usual bitchy self. Father was being non-existent like always. Mari was his only source of sanity at school. And Hawk Moth was being a bitch.

Because of course, the day before they have a huge test, he decides to akumatize someone (in this case, a businessman who was really unhappy with getting fired) and cut in on study time. And this akuma took a while to defeat. Guess he drew a lot of strength from his burning hatred of the failings of the corporate world.

And just yesterday, a teenager who was upset at being grounded got akumatized and terrorized the city for 3 hours before Ladybug could purify her. It did however confirmed her fears. Hawk Moth was getting stronger. It took longer to defeat his monsters. They needed to find him and ended this fast.

Adrien landed on Mari’s balcony and slipped in her room, crashing on her big comfy bed, de-transforming on the spot. Plagg sleepily floating and laying next to him on the pillow. He was so tired. And photo shoots and school drama were not helping things.

For the record, he was not at all expecting to see Hot-And-Sexy in a bookstore of all places.

He was so engrossed in looking through the latest Boku no Hero Academia manga (can’t wait until Season 5 comes out) that when someone touched his shoulder, he was not proud to admit he squeaked a bit.

He turned around and his eyes widened his surprise.

“Hot-And-Sexy!”

It was indeed the Adonis Adrien had a huge crush on. Today he was wearing a white t-shirt paired with a blue denim jacket and black ripped jeans. Wow. He really can make anything look hot.

No. Bad Adrien. Don’t let him know you actually have a crush on him.

And oh fuck. Hot-And-Sexy was staring at the blonde and Adrien tried not to let himself get flustered. He has a very intense stare. For all he knew, Hot-And-Sexy stares at everyone like that.

Calm the fuck down, heart. You too brain.

He raised a handsome eyebrow in amusement. “Excuse me?”

Adrien felt himself burn with embarrassment, his face turning bright scarlet. No wonder he was fit for the unlucky miraculous or was this just a side-effect? Note to self, ask Mari about this later.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t get your name last time. And I just started calling you that in my head. Cause you’re really hot and you have pretty eyes.”

Fuck mouth! Why won’t you stop talking! Please for the love of everything that makes Mari a BAMF stop. Stop digging further into the hole of embarrassment! Abort mission! Abort!

“When did we meet?”

At that, he blink a few times. Oh fuck. He was not Superhero Chat Noir. He was Civilian Adrien Agreste. Mari was definitely murdering his dumbass tonight. Lightning please strike him down right now. Where was an unlucky lightning strike when you need it?

After a few seconds of his horrified silence, Hot-And-Sexy chuckled (he had such a nice laugh). “You are extremely lucky I already figured out your alter ego beforehand, Chaton.”

Before Adrien could even unwrap that statement, he held out a hand and had a dangerously sexy smirk on his face. “My name is Damian Wayne. Would you care to get a cup of coffee with me?”

And Adrien nodded his head, not trusting himself to speak. He can deal with the superhero thing later when he can think straight (hah!) and is not distracted by Damian’s beautiful smile and alluring green eyes and perfect everything.

Guess what?

Ya Boi got game.

(At least, he likes to think he does)

After a successful coffee date (was it a date? Please let it be a date), they exchanged numbers (cue internal squealing) and met up a few times afterward to hang out.

Apparently, Dami was here on business to deal with something for Wayne Enterprises.

“Aren’t you 17?”

“Father believes in preparing us when we’re young.”

Dami was amazingly sweet. Arrogant and pretentious with a stick up his ass but sweet. He treats stray animals with such reverence that Adrien’s heart melt every time he sees it.

It was an added bonus when Damian scorned Lila with cruel words and disgusted looks when she tried to cut in Adrien and Dami’s date(?)/meetup(?)/spending-time-together event.

She cried and whined afterwards and Adrien has to endure his father’s lecture. But it was totally worth it.

Oh yeah. Mari was not pleased that he accidentally outed himself to a civilian. But nothing that a couple of sad kitty eyes can’t fix.

“You are so lucky you’re cute, kitty-cat.” Mari grumbled but she was smiling. “I just need to have a good talk with him on the importance of secrecy.”

That day Damian Wayne learned to fear a certain Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

It was 2 weeks later when Adrien woke up to a package next to his futon in Mari’s room. When he opened it, he saw the Butterfly and Peacock miraculous inside.

There was a card beneath it. And in beautiful cursive script read:

I dearly hope you enjoy my courting gift, mon amour. Allow me the honor to formally ask you out on a date. I look forward to hearing favorably from you soon.

- Damian Wayne

He couldn’t believe it.

“Mari! Damian likes me back!”

“Chaton, I swear. It is 2 in the morning.”

#ml x dc #ml salt #ml salt fic #lila rossi salt #marinette deserves better #but so does adrien #adrien deserves better #adrien agreste #sexuality crisis #gaydrien #adrien agreste x damian wayne #adridami #oneshot #how the fuck did this crack idea span 3K words #apparently I'm down with this ship

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anxiouslyfred · 3 years

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The Stone Gaze

Summary: Virgil hates that he can temporarily turn people into stone and hopes that whatever the mirror superpower his soulmate has is able to counteract it.

He wasn’t quite expecting the energy and impulsiveness of Remus when they met in an Art Exhibition.

/\/\/\

Virgil hated his powers. He hated a lot of things really, but the power he had was the number one thing he hated and that barely even counted as self-hate or self-deprecation given a lot of the reasoning for it was how his powers impacted his life.

The only time he'd come close to thinking his 'superpower' (as society had deemed things not everybody could do) was when they were studying mythology and had covered Medusa. She had turned people to stone permanently as a gift to protect herself from those who would idolise or attack her. Before they learnt the ending that had seemed like a pretty cool thing to be able to do, but then she was killed as part of a heroes journey and Virgil realised how little people would think of his power should they learn about it. It was mythologically a villains power after all.

Hiding his powers wasn't enough to keep Virgil from the attention of bullies. They picked on him because he always wore his father hoodie after they lost him to illness. They'd call him names because he'd learnt to keep his hair, especially his fringe long enough to cover his eyes so nobody would get accidentally turned to stone. Eventually they'd even harass him to do their homework because his Dad pushed for good study habits.

Refusing to react to their insults or requests only reached the point they tried to beat him up once. When the leader of that group had shoved him against a wall his hair had fallen backwards, leaving a clear gaze directed to the bullies. As soon as the leader became stone the other kids had fled, crying for the teacher to come help.

Virgil's Dad had been called to the school to pick him up and explicitly direct everyone's attention to what had clearly been happening, given the position the boy had been frozen in while refusing to allow any punishment to be given to Virgil. Even once that was accepted by the teachers and school they tried to demand that he wore sunglasses or a visor to school for the safety of staff and children alike.

“I will not police the clothes my son wears because your staff cannot respect someone who doesn't meet their gaze directly. He has found that the long fringe is enough to counteract his powers and given the years he has attended this school without incident that should be perfectly suitable to carry on with.” His Dad has lectured the head teacher that day. He'd given more evidence that Virgil hadn't listened to, but the sentence stuck in his head. Once more his powers were up to him to control and prevent from being used and it felt like an even heavier weight to carry than he'd already found it.

The days of his schooling after that were lonely, isolated as he feared anyone he might befriend would try to meet his eyes. The only hope he had for getting through his life was that somewhere in their world was his soulmate; a person whose powers would mirror his own, and possibly, on the nights Virgil was willing to dream impossible things, counteract his gaze that turned people to stone.

/Over to Remus\

Roman had been the one to bring Remus into exhibiting his work. Honestly, Roman had been the twin to get them both into the art world in the first place. The charismatic, charming artist, whose painting were filled with energy most paintings couldn't capture and dreamt of finding his soulmate. When the art world had discovered he had a brother just as skilled in sculpting they were pulled around and paired together for exhibits constantly.

Remus had originally tried to explain the truth, that their works looked like they held more of life in them because that was what their powers did. Roman could bring paintings to life temporarily, and had often painted portraits of his friends and family so he could still talk to them while they were away. Remus in contrast brought sculptures to life when he touched them with a wish to talk. They'd always be in different positions than he'd awakened them from by the time the power wore off so he got praised for how realistic or believable his positions were.

None of that praise meant anything to Remus though. He sculpted things to feel less alone, to have people to talk to that wouldn't react in disgust or turn away when he said something a little more twisted than society was used to hearing. Each model he made had a mouth to talk and their own way to express their reactions so he could for a while feel accepted by someone other than his brother.

Today he had actually listened to Roman's claims that it's better for their exhibitions when the artist spends times at the display. Of course that didn't mean he was going to dress any differently that normal, just throwing on the torn skinny jeans and an off the shoulder top, with a jacket draped over his shoulders for when the air conditioning got too cold. Art Galleries always seemed to keep the space too cold, Remus swore on it.

“You can't be in here Mate.” An angry voice said, a hand accompanying it yanking him around to face a tall suited man, scowling down at him. “This is an art gallery and I don't care what the fuck you did to sneak in here you're gonna be-”

Remus had already started glancing for a nearby sculpture to reach for when the words cut off. The man whose voice had slowly been raising had now turned to stone, finger raised to point out the door.

“I'm the artist?” He blinked, properly turning now to try and find who else was in the gallery that might have done it.

A few metres directly behind where Remus was, there was a man looking like he would run any second, staring at the floor as though ashamed. “Sorry, I didn't mean to do that.” He mumbled, “The yelling startled me.”

“You're okay, dude. No harm, no wild birds around here.” Remus nodded, reaching back to poke the side of the angry man, focusing on him being alive and calm now.

“Apologies, I probably shouldn't have yelled, but seriously, homeless people aren't allowed in art galleries.” The man who had been yelling declared, having taken a deep breath as the stone released him.

Remus just raised an eyebrow at that. “Just because I haven't dressed all posh like you doesn't mean I'm homeless. And given I'm the one who sculpted most of the statues in this gallery, I believe your judgemental attitude can be taken elsewhere, or shoved up your ass since that seems to be where the rest of your personality is kept. Have your fun in hell, not in my gallery.” He spoke quickly, already directing the man away from the gallery, and nodding to the security guard that wandered between their exhibits.

He didn't delay any longer than that, caring more for the man who had turned him to stone than anything more that could be said. That had to be the complete opposite to his own powers, whether it had been a permanent transformation or just a temporary one, he wanted to know.

Luckily the man was still stood there, blinking at the spot where the angry fellow had been frozen. “He- he shouldn't... That never wears off that quickly.” He was mumbling to himself, not realising Remus had returned.

“Hey there modern day Medusa, you doing alright?” Remus tapped his shoulder, tilting his head when the acknowledgement was for the man to stare at his neck rather than look at him.

“F-fine. Sorry about that though. It really was an accident.”

“Why are you apologising for helping me calm the situation down before he did more than yell? I got him out of the stone and sent on his way. It's all hot stuff in heaven today.” Remus was genuinely confused over what was upsetting the man in front of him. Everything had been sorted out so surely they could move on to talking about soulmates already.

There was a quick glance up, to stare at his ear now, or maybe something over his shoulder. “You got him out of the stone? That wasn't my power just wearing off more quickly than normal?” There was a plea in his voice, as though scared of his own power.

“Yep, and while I can't really prove that here, given everything is already photographed and needs to remain the same to be sold, you can come see my works in progress. I'm Remus, by the way, Remus Windsor.” The offer was easy to give. No matter what people believed about needing to test contrasting powers in public to understand if they're completely opposites, he just wanted to calm this person down. Roman would understand that and hopefully leave to paint in the park or some sappy shit like that.

“Virgil and, yeah, please can we do that?” Virgil nodded, holding a shaking hand out towards him, while the other started pulling the hair that had fallen to his ears back in front of his eyes.

As Remus took his hand he was finally able to meet Virgil's gaze and grinned, tugging on it so they could run out of the gallery together, looking something between art thieves making their escape and teenagers causing mischief.

/To the art gallery\

“Princess, you better get your fat ass and any talking paintings the hell out of here. I've got my Medusa and we need to confirm this shit without an audience.” Remus barged through the doors still tugging Virgil along behind him.

Virgil was astounded by what had occurred in the last hour. He'd only visited the art gallery on a whim, curious over just how lifelike a sculptures positioning could be compared to what he'd seen when accidentally using his own power on people. He hadn't expected to almost add to the exhibition temporarily or to meet someone who could be his soulmate there as well.

Now he could only look around the studio that Remus had explained he shared with his brother. The walls were covered in paintings in various stages of completion. Some looked finished but missing the energy that the paintings back in the gallery had held, others were clearly completely done, but held back. A few canvases were merely sketches or only had their backgrounds coloured in.

Then there was the stone. There were throughout the entire studio several large boulders, some chipped into enough that a hand could be seen reaching out, or the nose of a dog. A few were just legs waving into the air, vague shapes for the rest of the body chipped away but the lips immaculately carved. There was even a potters wheel at the opposite end with a few vases and ceramic models left on a table beside it.

“Remus, seriously, you cannot just kick me out. I'm doing an oil painting.” There was a man identical to Remus stood in front of the only Easel in the gallery, now turned to them frowning with his brush poised to the canvas.

Virgil dithered for a moment before stepping forward. “Oil paints don't exactly dry quickly. You could spare a few minutes for us to figure our if we're soulmates couldn't you?” He muttered, for the first time in years looking up as someone turned to him. He wasn't going to deliberately use his powers without permission now, but having some evidence that Remus actually can reverse the medusa affect straight away would seriously take a weight from his mind.

The painter watched him for a moment before stepping closer, setting his brush down. “I'm Roman. Wouldn't it be more useful for you to prove this on a real person? Although I can understand the uses of turning Remus's sculptures back to stone at will. There's been a few incidents where they've been even worse than he can be.”

“Roman's volunteering to be tortured. Let's do it, see how long we can keep making him stone and real again in quick succession.” Remus stage whispered at him, cackling when Roman flipped him off.

Virgil just nodded, “Only once. I want to know if Remus actually can reverse this.” He cautioned, but turned his head enough to properly meet Roman's gaze, watching as grey stole over his body in a second.

Before Virgil could worry over how Remus would react to seeing that done deliberately, he was leaning forwards to shove his brother backwards, giggling along with the action. Roman was human again by the time he hit the floor, now scowling up at Remus.

“Okay, Rude. I offer to help my darling sibling confirm their soulmate is theirs and you shove me to the floor. I cannot work in such a hostile environment. I'm taking my leave of you, pray it won't be permanently.” He stood up, throwing the glare at them and leaving with all the dramatics of a pantomime dame.

Virgil had to snicker along with Remus as the door was slammed shut. Honestly, half of it was that he had to laugh or he might just burst into tears. In all his wildest dreams he hadn't thought his soulmate would be so excited to have his powers with them.

“Let's try on my figurines! I'm trying to make a dragon witch I can set lose to torment Roman when I'm heading out, and already have my Cthulhu baby, just waiting to be given life. Wanna see if you can turn them back to stone if I wake 'em up?” Remus was once again holding his hand and tugging him to the other end of the room as soon as he finished laughing.

“Before we do that, are you wanting a romantic soulmate, or a platonic one? I don't really care which we have but I'd be happier if we got to know each other first.” Virgil hesitated a moment, tugging back on his arm.

Remus waved off the question. “We'll cross that bridge when we reach it. If you want sex or not I'm making models I can sleep with anyway. They're funny to talk to if they realise how I made their bodies. Come on, meet my Cthulhu baby!” The whine was emphasised by bouncing and Virgil's arm being jumped up and down rapidly.

“Okay, okay, guess that explains why some are so twisted around as though trying to hide their bodies.” Virgil laughed, walking once more towards the table.

Virgil hated his superpower, and probably always would, but perhaps Remus can help him find a couple of things it's good to be medusa for.

#dukexiety #soulmate au #creativitwins #virgil sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders

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pettyvxbes · 3 years

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Colson Baker x Reader - Ocean Eyes III

This was originally only supposed to be three parts, but I have so many ideas. . . I might be getting a little carried away. If anyone is interested in being included on the tag list for ocean eyes drop me a comment. ❤ Btw, ya'll rock, and I'm so thrilled that you're digging where this story is going as much as I am!!

SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL COFFEE DEALER

Colson had insisted on going to a coffee shop across town, even though there were plenty of great coffee shops near Shaker Square that you two had frequented on your previous Saturday adventures. He initially suggested that you ride with him, but you declined the offer and opted to drive yourself, much to your dismay. You considered making a wrong turn to head back to your sister's house several times as you followed closely behind him but decided against the outlandish idea.

Pulling into the parking lot, you immediately noticed the sizeable pink skull painted on the side of the brick building. It read "Drink. Eat. Work. Meet" arched across the top with "The" on the forehead, a 2 and 7 in separate eye sockets, "club" on the chin, and the most clever part was the nose which was a cup of steaming coffee. The aesthetic was everything, and you quickly understood why Colson had wanted to bring you to this specific coffee shop. It was edgy and artistic, kind of like you, and he knew you would love it.

"This place is fucking awesome." You gushed, taking in the surrounding interior. The walls were painted pink and accented with black. There were skulls in various places throughout the room, and directly in front of you behind a large circular counter were the associates, wearing "Coffee Dealer" tees, waiting patiently to take your order. Capturing every aspect of the shop, you noticed the music playing. It was a synth-pop-R&B beat accompanied by the voice of Chris Brown and Usher.

"You gon' be my baby Love me, love me crazy Tell me you with it Baby, come and get it Maybe try a new thing And let's spark a new flame."

It was one of those songs that stuck in your memory and could take you back to a specific time and place. You looked over at Colson to find him looking back at you, and you were instantly transported to that cold January night eleven years ago, the night you had first met Colson.

The air was crisp, and the night sky was aglow with the bright city lights of Atlanta. You were visiting your best friend for what was left of your winter break at NYU. She couldn't wait to take you out on the town. So naturally, you both ended up at the Gold Room less than five hours after you had touched down in the Empire State of the South.

The Gold Room was fancy. Golden poles were lining a transparent window rail in the main seating area. Each roped-off section donned eccentric gold couches, chandeliers, and splashy tropical lighting, all of which highlighted the significance of those seated there. You happened to find yourself smack dab in the middle of the distinguished crowd, behind the velvet ropes. All thanks to your gorgeous best friend who had been casually seeing one of the Atlanta Hawks.

"Y/n, don't look now, but that guy over there has been staring at you since we walked in." Your best friend screamed into your ear over the loud music.

"Which one?" You questioned, waiting to turn and look.

"The blonde with the tattoos!" She paused, taking a sip of her drink. She could tell you were waiting for a more descriptive answer. "You'll know which one. He's fine as fuck!" She screamed, causing you to chuckle at her bluntness.

You casually turned to the side to look for the mystery guy, and you were quickly met with his blue eyes. You felt your cheeks flush a bit as he maintained eye contact.

You were beautiful in a way that the other girls in the club weren't. You were confident but not cocky, and your attire was modest but still sexy. You didn't need to be accepted by others, which was apparent in how you carried yourself. Your smile was beaming as you looked back at him, and Colson could have sworn it illuminated even the darkest corners of the room. You were authentically you, and the blue-eyed boy was captivated.

Your eye contact was broken by one of the tall basketball players in your section offering you a glass of champagne. You accepted the drink and made small talk for a moment before quietly excusing yourself to the ladies' room. At least that's what you told your friend, but if you were honest, you were actually looking for those blue eyes. You made your way slowly through the horde of people keeping your eye on the VIP section that the tattooed man occupied. You couldn't see him, so you wandered closer until you were stopped by a husky voice.

"Are you looking for something?" You turned, looking up into the blue eyes you had been searching for.

"Not anymore." You smirked. He was taken aback by your forward response, and you could tell by the look across his face that he was speechless. You chuckled at his expression. "I'm sorry."

"I wasn't expecting you to say that, but I was hoping you would" He laughed. "I'm Colson."

"Y/n."

"Y/n, that's beautiful." He smiled at you. You couldn't tell if it was the champagne coursing through you or the fact that he was extremely handsome, but all you could think about was kissing him. The thought was soon pushed to the back of your mind as you began exchanging information about yourselves. Where you were from, what you were doing in Atlanta, your relationship status'. . .the basics. You two eventually found yourselves halfway through a game of 21 questions in a more private area of the club where you could actually hear each other speak.

"If you could have one 'do over' in your life, what would you do differently?" You inquired.

"Ooh, we're going there now?" He chuckled. "That's easy though, I wouldn't do anything over because then I wouldn't be sitting here with you."

“Smooth.” You chuckled at his cheesy answer.

“Yeah? You see what I did there?” He joked "Ok, my turn. . ." He changed the subject, trying to think of a question quickly. "If there was one piece of advice you could give, what would it be?" You thought for a moment before speaking.

"To always appreciate the little things in life."

"The little things?" he questioned, waiting for you to elaborate further.

"Yeah, you know, like early morning sunrises or late sunsets. The ones where you'll see an array of colors in the sky that you wouldn't normally see." You raved. "Or road trips and motorcycle rides, when you have music in your ears and the wind in your hair. Or the days when you're surrounded by your favorite people, the ones who make you realize that the world isn't such a cold, harsh place." You rambled, and he smiled like a fool.

"The little things that make you realize what life is about and what it means to be alive?" He pondered quietly, contemplating what you had said.

"Yes!" You extolled. "Appreciating the little things makes you enjoy where you are, right now, in the present."

"Enjoy where you are right now," He reiterated. "I like that" A comfortable silence settled in for a moment, and you could hear a catchy synth-pop-R&B beat surging through the room. The voices of Chris Brown and Usher were crystal clear.

"Who said you can't find love in a club? 'Cause I wanna tell them they wrong Come on, just baby, try a new thing And let's spark a new flame."

You both let out a little chuckle at the lyrics, and the next thing you knew, his right hand was on the side of your face pulling you into him. The kiss was magic, chaos, and a little bit of poetry. You felt a fire deep in your bones, and he melted every part of you.

"Hey, Colson!" The barista greeted him, pulling you from your memory of the man standing next to you. You hadn't even noticed, but you two were still staring at each other, and you wondered if the same memory had crossed his mind too.

He turned towards the barista as your eyes continued to explore the coffee shop. That's when you saw it—a mural on the wall situated above black leather dome seats. In large pink letters, "Enjoy where you are right now." and it clicked - this was his coffee shop. . .and he still thought about that night, just like you.

Colson glanced back at you, preparing to order, you smiled at him, and yet again, he could have sworn it illuminated even the darkest corners of the room. You were still authentically you, and the blue-eyed boy was still captivated.

II << 💀 >>

TAG LIST @canyoubuymetoast

#colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker fluff #mgk x reader #mgk #x reader #machine gun kelly x reader #machine gun kelly #memories #club 27 #club 27 coffee #mgk coffee shop #sleep when your dead #support your local coffee dealer

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steve0discusses · 3 years

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Yugioh S5 Ep 19: Yugi and the Only Neck Accessory He Didn’t Really Want to Wear

Been busy! Hopefully stuff will open up soon as I’m taking a hiatus on a different quarantine project and will be finishing painting the entire roof of my car this week? One can hope. Sanding the rust off the whole top of a car takes a long time it turns out?

Also, fun Yugioh fact, I recently painted a book cover for an author who is older so she’s never seen the show, and she looked at my tumblr, saw my Duke Devlin fanart and was like “That’s him. That’s my main character. OMG. You captured him perfectly!” and I was like “Ma’am that is Duke Devlin, hence the single dice earring on his lobes there, but we can work with this.” and now a spiritual Duke Devlin is on the cover of a Wuxia-style fantasy trilogy on the Vella. Had to give him a top knot and delete the eyeliner for Wuxia reasons but uh, that’s just Duke.

So long story short, fanart can get you work, don’t even worry about posting that stuff online because most people don’t even know it’s fanart anyway and older ladies freakin love it.

Back in Yugioh, the team was doing their best to navigate a map through the woods and they do about as well as they normally do.

And inside Tristan lifted up the floorboards and was like “I found the only way out, this is it, this is the only way.”

And they ended up in something that has a color scheme I would actually associate with a jungle. Finally. We have finally left California (in order to go to another Hell.)

Youknow, when we went to California, we visited Hell, and when we went to India, we also took a stop at the nearest death destination. There’s just so much death on this show and sometimes I forget because there’s been a ghost in our party for so freakin long it’s been normalized.

(read more death imagery under the cut)

Joey freaks out at a flock of crows and reveals in this episode something I never realized about him before.

Like I’m not always the perfect observer as I’m sure you’ve noticed, but I love that this is canon for probably only this episode, but I will never forget it for the entirety of this series.

You go on hating birds, Joey.

Bro was like “Maybe it’s a deep cut about Mai Valentine because she’s a harpy lady” but eh...pretty sure we spent like an entire season of Joey telling us that Mai was a good experience? Would be incredibly funny if immediately after all of S4, Joey was like “You know what? Screw Mai, guys.”

So my thoughts...it’s probably just a literal bird experience. Like I had a friend who hated deer because once she went to a petting zoo, got some pellets to feed the deer, but her finger was sticking up, so when the deer came over to nibble on some pellets her finger went up it’s nose by accident. She was so disgusted by this event that was entirely her fault, that she brought up how much she hated deer basically whenever we saw one.

So like...maybe Joey fed a bird wrong at a petting zoo. I can see him getting bit by a parrot because he was too Joey Wheeler.

But now that we’re in a graveyard neighborhood, Pharaoh decides to hop out because there’s a lot of ghosts here and he needs to practice socializing with his peers.

So that’s just a Yugioh monster doing the ostrich dance, right? Like this is a meme from like 2010 but on Yugioh in 2003(4?)

Good to see the Ostrich dance here in the land before Vine.

So they pull out their Pokemon to do some antics, Tea looked like she was about to do something useful, and Yami does a yump across time and space to get her as far away from playing (not)cards as quickly as possible and y’all...sure was a position these animators animated.

Holy crap.

And I was going off about that scene last season where they woke up in the same bed like...

...have these two been together this entire time? Like together together?

They’re like...way more comfortable than you’d figure they’d be considering Yugi nearly passes out every time he gets a hug. But Yami just like....How long has this been going on? As long as Joey’s fear of birds?

Like obviously this show would never cover what the hell Yugi may be thinking about this overreaching move here, because we’re gonna gloss right over that, and just run away up a flight of stairs. No one mentions this ever again. Which is mind blowing for an anime to do. I think in most anime I watch, the kids would be like “ahh ahhhh I bumped into a booooob!” like it does for I want to say every other episode of My Hero Academia. But in Yugioh, they saw that low hanging fruit and they were like “we expect a higher level of maturity out of our audience. Now here’s a fleet of ostrich dancing tree monsters with faces for crotches.”

They decided to sprint up this flight of stairs, and it enough of a slope to deter the monsters who are only unbalanced weird legs.

I want us to take a moment and admire this background painting. I can’t unsee the rocks that are all the same size, just piled on top of eachother. Did Alexander the Great just plop rocks here--or was the mountain made up of tons of similarly shaped boulders?

Like there’s a lot of nice bg’s in this arc, don’t get me wrong, but this one...I’m just trying to wrap my head around the logic of it.

At the top, they meet a pantheon, that is immediately blocked by this wall, because if this arc had a tagline, it’s “Yugi gets inconvenienced every 4 seconds.”

Bro was like “Clearly they would have pushed it over if Tea wasn’t slacking off” and like...she is actually. Look at her. Only used one hand? Slacker.

Joey was disappointed he couldn’t push over a massive wall, and the team decided not to analyze how much Joey Wheeler thinks of his own strength and instead fixate on these statues.

Usually in anthro characters they kinda look birdlike but act human. But what about an anthro that’s just a bird? Like human torso, but can turn his head 180 degrees? Yugioh made me ask this question.

And then Joey was like “wait, there may be a solution that isn’t just to use brute strength!”

Youknow it is a bummer that Kaiba couldn’t witness Joey own a dragon while he himself only has a robot jet dragon. Although, the jet is probably faster, stronger and overall...better than this baby dragon. It would have been great for Kaiba to witness Joey under-utilize this dragon and forget he has it for like huge swatches of the episode.

And then Grandpa pulled some body horror out of nowhere.

Wow.

I mean that is really gross.

I guess Grandpa can’t use Blue eyes, because Kaiba ripped it up, Grandpa can’t use Exodia because Weevil tossed it off a boat, and grandpa can’t use the card that’s just a building because...it’s a building.

So instead Grandpa has a bunch of meat and bones that look like something out of Doom. It’s probably from a more obscure Konami property, but I forget which.

I’ve seen Tristan hold back Joey in this hold, first time it’s been Tea.

So much shipping in this episode, it’s wild.

It’s also wild how low my standards are for what could possibly be shipping when it comes to Yugioh because of how freakin tepid all of these characters are, which as I’ve brought up before, I really don’t mind.

So Yugi decides that because Grandpa was folding his arms like one monster and it made a gem light up or something, to just do the video game thing and use the giant ass statues as clues.

Why was this arc not a video game? Like parts of it really feel like it was meant to be.

So Yugi falls down a hole, where the walls cave in like it’s that dumpster in Star Wars but like...it barely phases him.

Also...Yugi might be able to see in the dark. It’s never been brought up but like...the more I think about it...has Yugi ever struggled to see without the lights on?

After Joey disappoints everyone, he confronts death.

And Pharaoh and Yugi decide to solve the puzzle of “how do I get out of this trap dungeon room” which, honestly, is probably what they’re doing every time they hang out in the brain pyramid.

So they summon their mascot monster, and surprisingly the show decided its ability to fly cannot help them out here.

Kuriboh manages to become enough of a doormat to push Yami up to the stone and they end up in a set of weird cuts that ended in this?

Like seriously it was like flashes of light and then they were just...up here like this.

Hey like...

Alexander the Great, my man...

Were you planning to put that stone in the middle of a exhaust vent hoping someone would touch it? Because there’s no way anyone would rationally have done that. You would need to fly to do it. This is the world’s worst DM.

Like Yugioh pulls a lot of fantasy nonsense but this arc is a lot more like a “it’s a kid’s show, just go with it.” arc than most of them. It’s not a bad vibe, necessarily, it’s just not the vibe I’m used to.

So once I witnessed maybe the most boring conversation I’ve ever witnessed about corn (this was on a twitch stream, by the way, a guy was playing an interesting game, and then a guest came on and started talking about corn and plants for 2 hours) and they would not shut up about how all taxonomy is wrong because there are no such thing as trees and how all animals are labelled incorrectly, and then they started comparing it to like all sorts of mushrooms and phytoplankton as you would if you clearly got a little bit high before dumping your corn knowledge on a twitch stream.

Anyway, after that bizarre experience I suffered so I could learn how to play an obscure video game, I think I can safely say, that while I know everyone here thinks a bird can’t be a dog. If you’re a high biologist: a bird is absolutely a dog. Apparently you can just do that if you’re the most boring biologist alive and no one will argue with you because to do that would involve talking to you. We’ll just say a bird is a dog and no one can fight me or I will talk about the corn book that this guest on this twitch chat was thinking about renting from the library about the different types of corn mutations inherent in freakin Indiana. Therefore, Joey’s fear of birds and dogs is same.

So they use Dark Magician to save them from the statues, and Yugi busts into the pantheon again because they got to open this casket before a time limit that I kind of forgot about, tbh.

And inside the casket, is...this thing!

(enjoy this line on the bottom of the image I don’t feel like fixing it)

And you may say to yourself...it looks like it’s just floating in mid-air, that’s silly, and so I want to introduce you to the next panel where you can see that it is...quite literally...just floating in the air like a video game.

and it just slurps itself onto Yugi before he can be like “nonono.”

Wasn’t there some horror movie where you were stuck in some sort of body brace that slowly tortures you (was that Saw?) This has that vibes. Like man that looks uncomfortable to wear over a jacket and two belts and a collar that is another belt.

That and I...I gotta appreciate that Yugi popped his collar while wearing body armor and chunky necklace. What 00′s fashion appreciation right there.

Bit like...this isn’t breathable, right? Like Yugi’s gonna finally take this thing off and his jacket will just be completely soaked in sweat?

Anyway, that’s it for this post, next week we’ll see if Yugi can walk through a doorway in that thing.

Also, I can’t bring up the ostrich dance without sharing the vines of my generation

youtube

#Yugioh #YGO #yu gi oh #photo recap #episode recap #S5 #Ep19 #Yugi Muto #Joey Wheeler #Joey's fear of birds I've never heard about until this episode #Tea Gardner #Grandpa Muto #Tristan Taylor #Baby Dragon #This weird ass tranformer that Yugi is wearing.

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mrsalwayswrite · 3 years

Text

It’s Always Been You (Eugene Roe x f!Reader)

I have mixed feelings about this piece. But who doesn’t love Soft Roe?

Warnings: couple swear words but PURE FLUFFY FLUFF

Words: 2700

Tag List: @happyveday @saritanotserena @sydney-m @evelynshelby

I stood in front of the mirror, unable to believe the person looking back was actually me. I brushed my hands down the front of the gown, enjoying its smooth, silky texture. Such a contrast to the stiff, dirty ODs I had become accustomed to. Light makeup on my face, something I had not indulged in for years. I looked… dare I say… beautiful. Even as I witnessed myself dress up in the mirror, I doubted my own reflection. It felt like I was someone else. Today, though, that was what I wanted.

It was a Sunday and everyone was still celebrating being in Zell Am See. We had thought Germany was beautiful but it had nothing on Austria.

In his pilfering, Captain Speirs had found an abandoned, wealthy home that he thought I might enjoy. He purposefully pulled me aside and told me to investigate the master bedroom before anyone else got to it. At my questioning look, he just gave a wink and said he would stand guard until I was done. Without another word, he lit a cigarette and rummaged through his newest acquisitions.

Intrigued and still confused, since everyone knew I did not care much about finding treasures, I wandered into the home and up the grand stairwell until I finally reached the master bedroom. My jaw dropped when I saw what he was referring to and purposefully left for me. I owed him a huge bottle of liquor after this. Whoever the wife was that lived here had expensive taste. There were racks of beautiful gowns and dresses, ranging from whimsical day dresses to breath-taking evening gowns. I spent about an hour just touching all the beautiful gowns, in awe that clothing like this was even real. Even the heels and few pieces of jewelry left behind boggled my mind in their quality. It was a fairytale. It had to be.

So, I had decided while all the men were continuing to get drunk, blow things up and joy ride…. I was going to embrace my femininity. Something I had not enjoyed since Albourne, so long ago.

Now here I stood, having spent entirely too long getting ready for some kind of elegant ball. The gown I commandeered was an emerald green color, making me feel like I was wearing a gemstone, with wide straps but left my arms bare and dipped low in the back. The red lipstick I found made my lips pop in the bright light of the bathroom. My favorite thing was the small gold chain necklace I discovered half hiding under a dresser, as if dropped and forgotten by whoever was leaving quickly. I wondered if in another life this could have been me regularly, attending socialite functions and dressing up like a princess. Instead I was used to dirt and blood marring my skin, ill-fitting ODs and a helmet that constantly slipped over my eyes.

For this moment, just for tonight… I could pretend otherwise. Pretend I was someone important, someone elegant.

When I finally stepped out of the wealthy house, Speirs took one look at the gown draped over my arm and the pair of black heels dangling from my hand, and suggested I use the officer's house to get ready in.

Taking a deep breath, I took one last look at myself in the mirror. If only my family could see me now, I thought. I slipped on the heels and walked out of the bathroom, the gown trailing lightly behind me.

Tonight was about me. Doing something special for me. To remind myself I was more than just a soldier, more than the scars I now bore from our time in combat. That I had not completely lost myself to war and its carnage. Beauty could still be found in the little things...the stolen moments. Like a stunning gown and red lipstick.

I could hear the officers downstairs, talking about something, followed by a sharp bark of laughter from Nixon. Before I disappeared into the upstairs bathroom, I had told them I was going to watch the sunset by the lake and if I came back after dark to not worry about me.

Being extra careful in the gown, I descended the stairs. One foot at a time. One nervous breath at a time. Beyond aware of how different I looked.

As I stepped into view of those lounging around, most playing poker at a table in the middle of the room, silence struck. I could feel their eyes land heavily on me.

"Holy shit." Nixon said, mouth dropped open.

I stepped down the last two steps, brushing down my gown to smooth out the nonexistent wrinkles. I tried to tease, their amazed looks making me uncomfortable. "I swear, it's like you guys have forgotten I am in fact a woman."

"Uh huh. Can't forget that right now." Nixon took a sip of his drink in hand.

Harry asked, a smirk on his face as tapped his cards against the table. "Where you going dressed like that?"

"Going to watch the sunset." I reminded them.

"Dressed like that?!" Nixon sputtered then narrowed his eyes at me. "Looks like you're planning on meeting someone."

"Does a woman have to dress up only for a man?" Before anyone could answer, I pointed a finger at the officers. "The correct answer is no. I can dress up for myself. I'll be back in a while."

"Y/n?"

I looked at Winters, surprised to see him sitting in an armchair near the fireplace reading while the other officers were playing cards. "Sir?"

"You look beautiful."

"Thank you, sir." I smiled at Winters, receiving a soft one in return.

"You got a weapon on you?" Speirs asked around a cigarette between his lips.

"Maybe."

He froze, then slowly pulled the cigarette out and started to rise from his seat.

"Christ! Yes! I've got my knife! Anything else, dad, or can I go now?"

"Be smart, don't stay out too late or talk to any boys." He deadpanned, shuffling the cards in his hand. The gleam in his eyes let me know he was just teasing, but would also have no qualms stabbing anyone who bothered me.

Amidst the others chuckling, I groaned. "I'm leaving now."

Quickly, I walked out before anyone could try and convince me to stay or worse- go change.

Thankfully, even in the fading daylight, the air was still somewhat warm where I did not need a shawl. I could hear some faint cheers from the enlisted men but I slipped behind the rows of houses and headed down the lakeside path. I walked towards my favorite spot overlooking the lake. Colors danced upon the water, making it appear as if on fire. A few ambitious stars peeked out from above in the sky painted by angels. Never before would I have imagined finding myself somewhere so absolutely gorgeous. If heaven was real, I hoped it looked like Austria.

Standing there, I found myself humming and gently swaying to a Billie Holiday song. My arms wrapped around myself loosely, I tried to soak in everything. I wanted to remember this moment forever, to create new memories to replace the bad ones. The nightmares.

"Blue moon you saw me standing alone

Without a dream in my heart

Without a love of my own…"

"Y/n?"

I turned to look over my shoulder, not expecting anyone else around. The voice was a dead giveaway but I was shocked our Cajun medic was down this way. "Hey, Gene."

He stood several paces from me; his medic satchel, that he never went anywhere without, hanging off his side. He stared at me for a long moment, eyes dancing over me in a way that made me self-conscious of how much skin showed. Suddenly, he blinked rapidly as if waking from a dream. "What…" he cleared his throat, "what are you doin' here?"

"Watching the sunset." I glanced over my shoulder at the lake then looked back at him.

"Mmm...dressed like you should be in the pictures?"

I laughed, even as I felt my face warming. I ran my hands over the gown, still in awe that I was wearing something so expensive. For the most part of the past 4 years, I had been caked in grime and sweat; even though my skin was clean now, I felt too dirty to wear something so fine.

"I've never worn anything like this. I just...wanted to do something...for myself."

"Mmm… well, I'll leave you be. Goodnight." With a single nod, he hesitated then turned around, beginning to walk up the path back to the houses.

"You know…" I said loudly, watching his feet still as he turned back around to look at me. "It would be a shame to be dressed up and not able to dance."

He ducked his head slightly, a bashful smile on his face. I could see the uncertainty on his face. The desire to dance, to hold me close but also the concern for crossing that unspoken line separating us. For two years we had been tiptoeing around our growing feelings. Both aware but never acknowledging. It was in the secret looks, the subtle soft touches, the constant desire to seek one another out amongst a crowd, the solace our presence created when together. The knowledge hung there between us, with one slip we would both fall headlong over that cliff. So we kept back, together as friends but separate as lovers, even if we could read the desire in one another's eyes. It was safer this way.

Until now.

Without a word, he slowly approached me, as if waiting for me to change my mind, to tell him no, to maintain our status quo. My lips only turned up in a smile as he drew closer, encouraging him, telling him I wanted this. He dropped his satchel carefully on the ground. Our eyes locked, both aware of how this moment could change everything we had built. Carefully, he reached forward and clasped my hand, pulling me into his body. My lips parted on a quiet gasp, feeling his warm breath span across my face, his hand holding mine… and for once, neither one of us was covered in the blood of a fellow paratrooper. I lifted my hand to his shoulder, the muscles tensing underneath my palm. When he made no further movement, I grabbed his other hand and placed it on my waist. For a moment I thought he would reject this, to walk away as he seemed to stay frozen. Then with the softest whisper of my name, as if that was the key to unlock this moment, he pulled me even closer and took the lead.

In the stolen evening gown I found and Gene in his ODs, we danced. Like there was no war to haunt us. No rules against fraternizing. No fear of the future that lay before us. It was just him and I, in this moment of beauty and joy and life. We danced. He led me in a simple box step. Our pounding heartbeats, the fluttering of my gown and the soothing sound of the lake lapping on its shore, the only soundtrack we needed.

"You are beautiful."

My face heated up at the compliment. "It's the dress and lipstick."

"Non, mon chérie." He drawled in that perfect accent and tipped my face back to meet his soft gaze. "It's you. It's always been you."

I stared into his soulful eyes, a new burning in them. Where once it had only been a candle trying desperately to beat back the darkness; now a bonfire replaced it. Something darkness knew it could never defeat. This man who held me so tenderly, like I was some kind of priceless gem, who had seen the brutality and horrors of war but still kept going, still trying his hardest to save his men even when others would have given up. He was beautiful, both inside and out.

"You need to stop lookin' at me like." He whispered; eyes glued to mine.

It was when he spoke, I realized we were no longer dancing. When had we stopped? Our bodies were still pressed together, our fingers now entwined but our feet rooted to the path. The air between us felt anything but still. An ardent intensity hovered between us, binding us to the moment, preventing us from escaping it. The sounds around us disappeared. All I could see, all I could feel and sense and taste… was him.

"Why?" I asked, my voice breathy.

"I might be tempted to mess up your lipstick."

A nervous giggle escaped me. Instead of dispelling the profound moment, it only seemed to enhance it. With deliberate slowness, I moved my hand on his shoulder to the back of his neck. "I wouldn't mind."

His hand moved to cup my cheek, holding me still as he leaned in. His lips ghosted over mine, the sweetest of sensations. It sent sparks shooting through me. After he leaned back just out of lips reach. Our eyes met once again, our breathing quickening even from the faint touch. As if our bodies were synced, I rose up at the same time he leaned forward. This time when our lips met, it was with a kiss long overdue. Our lips molded to one another, basking in the taste of the other. Both my hands slipped to the nape of his neck. His hand on my cheek drifted to the back of my head, keeping me from moving away. His other hand slid to my lower back, drawing me closer… and closer.

The kiss deepened, pulling long dormant feelings from both of us, now finally exposed without reprimand. In the midst, his hand snaked up my side to brush a thumb over the underside of my breast. At the sensation, I gasped in the kiss, surprised by his forwardness. Surprised by the pure wanton need it shot through me. As my lips parted in the gasp, his tongue thrust into my mouth like he owned it. As if he needed more of my taste. Needed more of me. As if a simple kiss would never be enough. Not to him. He quickly drew my own tongue in a dance that soon left my knees weak and wobbling. I found myself clinging to him, not just in desire, but also to keep me upright, else I melted into a puddle of sheer bliss.

All too soon, we were forced apart by our lungs screaming for air. He pressed his forehead to mind, his hand still skimming my side from my hip to the underside of my breast and back down.

"It’s you. It’s always been you." He whispered as if finally able to confide his deepest secret. The words spilling forth like water out of cracks in a dam, held back for too long. "Since I first talked to you in Toccoa about tryin' to sneak a laxative into Sobel's coffee. And in Bastogne… you were always there for me. Checkin' on me. Makin' sure I knew I wasn't alone. But we're in a goddamn war and I couldn't say nothin'. Seein' you standin' out here, lookin' like an angel, I just...I had to…"

I pressed a finger to those kiss-swollen lips of his, silencing the onslaught of secrets. "Gene, I'm going to need you to stop talking and kiss me again."

He smirked, nuzzling my neck for a second. When he spoke, I could feel his hot breath and lips against my skin. "Yes, ma'am."

This time there was no hesitation, no wavering in dilemma. Our lips touched and it felt like it was meant to be. No great fireworks in the night sky, no great orchestra announcing our love. It felt more like two puzzles pieces finally fitting together. Like the sun peeking through on a cloudy day. It was perfect.

When we broke apart again, I felt delirious with joy and the look on his face said something similar. I laid my head on his chest, his arms wrapping around my waist. Bodies pressed against one another, molded together like clay. Without a word, we began swaying. The soundtrack of our shared heartbeats and the lake's waves drowning out anything else.

Nothing in the world had changed. We were still paratroopers occupying Austria. Men were still dying. The war was still going strong in the Pacific. Evil endured.

But in this moment, in our own little world.

Everything changed.

#band of brothers #Band of Brothers fandom #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #eugene roe #eugene roe x reader #ronald speirs #ron speirs #lewis nixon #richard winters #harry welsh #reader insert #mzwrites

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batfamily14 · 3 years

Text

The Sun Queen

BOBA FETT X BLACK QUEEN!READER

Chapter 2

Rating: explicit

A/N: You were raised to be strong, fierce but when you suddenly come into power with the task of fighting a war and for your people’s freedom becoming queen is more challenging than you imagined. Recruiting a fearsome bounty hunter by your side, it’s up to you to restore your kingdom. Follow your journey to becoming a royal legend and perhaps find love on the way.

You caught yourself thinking...

he may destroy you.

And you know what? That’d be fine.

To be completely disintegrated by all the best parts of him. At least then you’d know what you had was real.

Even if it killed you.

You’re settled in the garden, your crown perch on your head. The thick loth cat cloak you wear stands out against the black gown that slit up both your thighs. It’s you who now caught Boba staring.

Boba.

The name so fitting. As if it were crafted for him, and him only. It wouldn’t make sense if it belonged to anyone else.

You.

He couldn’t help but to look at you. The hunter notices that your skin makes it seem like you were conceived by the night sky, the stars caught in your eyes. Sparkling when you smile. He has been with plenty of women and seen dozens of beautiful girls but when he made love to them or kissed them, it didn’t feel right. When he was a young teen he often wondered what was wrong with him, thinking perhaps he would never be capable of falling in love.

But now, he thought maybe he just didn’t recognize those other girls. When he touched you he recognized you, as if your entire essence was lost to him at some point and now you’re finally his again.

Home.

You’re complete. You’re real. A living and breathing artwork met before his eyes and all he wanted to do was memorize your details. So, then maybe he’d appreciate everything in the universe that was bright, soft, and brown.

And it’d lead him like little boats down aisles floating back to you.

Back home.

~*~

You’re sitting, gazing at your mother’s statue, you squint your face up. You did that when you’re about to cry, he noted. Which you often did when you thought of your mother. He reaches out and touches you, touches you like you’re a rare and universal treasure. Precious. Fragile.

A confronting hand on your shoulder. He did that more often now, his hands becoming an extension of you.

“Little one,” his modulated voice came. The nickname shatters you. Pleasantly breaking under the unmerciful weight of him. “Fett,” you respond, coolly. His finger traces patterns into the skin of your shoulder, another new sensation.“What was her name?” He questions , softy.

“Saphoriae,” you tell him. “ In my language it means “The loved one.” ”

“What does your name mean?”

“Shining light.”

He smiles under his helmet.“How fitting.” The hunter thinks. “It’s perfect, practically designed for you.”

He’s gone back to guarding the garden entrance behind you, blaster to his armored chest. You’re perched on a bench, eyes carefully tracing over him. His body seems as if it's sketched from charcoal like he’s art and art isn’t beautiful, it’s supposed to make you feel something, and every time you see him something blooms in you. It always did. You try to remember how this happened, when you started to wonder why he wasn’t a painted portrait hung everywhere in case the universe forgot he existed once, and that thankfully at the same time you did too. What luck that is. That you could climb up his ribs into his heart if he let you.

You shift in your seat, your hand caressing through your hair. His visor gleams in your direction, his head doing his signature tilt which you found yourself growing slowly fond of. He strides closer, walking with purpose, always moving with a reason. He stops at the edge of the bench next to you. When Boba looks at you, he focuses on you as if you’re the only person in the world. Despite how unimportant the thing you could be babbling about, he makes it seem like you’re telling him the galaxy’s greatest secrets.

Your eyes unintentionally linger on the battered scars of his armor. Dents and scrapes, you cherish them all. The armor is a part of him like an exoskeleton, a shell that you so desperately want to see him crawl out of. Not so that you’d appreciate the real him, the honest him is a bounty hunter too. Just so that you could appreciate every layer of him, peel back every exterior of his being and appreciate each surface.

“What’s on your mind, little one?” He questions. You bat your lashes at him, chewing on your bottom lip.

“Your armor, how did it get like that?” You ask, gesturing to a rather large dent on the side of his helmet. He huffs, “I’m a hunter after all.” He says matter of factly. You roll your eyes to the sky making him let out a breathy chuckle. “I mean...did it hurt?” You inquire.

He sighs dramatically, peering down at you and offers a small shrug. “All a part of the business.” Boba lets you run a shy hand across his chest plate. “I’ve seen you train in the Sparring Hall, I would...watch you.” You confess. You hear the rumbling of another chuckle bubbling up in his throat.

“I know.” He almost teases, and you think you should feel embarrassed but you don’t. If he really didn’t want you to watch him he wouldn’t let you. Boba has a way of disappearing and reappearing whenever he pleased. You awe at him,“The way you fight it’s…”

Breathtaking.

He moves fluidly, as if he was dancing. Every flick of his wrist or thrown kick and punch roll one after another. His build is strong and a bit slender but nevertheless his form showcases all his strength.

“It’s what?” He probes, two fingers smoothly lift your chin up when your eyes shift away, forcing you to look at him.

“It’s...it’s fascinating.” You answer, flush with nervousness.

“Fascinating?”

“Yes...I’ve always wanted to learn.”

“How to fight?”

You nod. “Our warriors have a particular way of battle but you...you’re ruthless. You’re brutal. I like it, the fierceness of you.” Boba chuckles putting away his blaster to cross his arms over his chest, listening. “When you fight,” you continue. “It’s a testimony to your power. I want to fight like you, I need to.”

“Why do you want to fight?” The hunter questions.

“I want to feel what it looks like when you do.”

“And what’s that, girl?”

“Alive.”

~*~

The sparring hall is carved under the kingdom, built firmly with mud brick. Heavy wooden doors open to a sweeping

aged cream colored staircase leading to a platform covered with a blue mat. There’s various weapons draped on the walls. Spears, knives, a hunter’s wet dream. You’ve changed into your mother’s old sparring clothes when she waged in wars. A manogany thicken fabric wraps around your breast and crisscrosses over your stomach and spine securely, a pair of shorts with a pooling fabric hangs in the front and back like a skirt split in half, and leathery strapped sandals lace up your legs and thighs. Your locks are pulled upward with a silk wrap revealing your whole face.

Boba wears grey sweats, and it feels like a violation to see this much of him. As if he’s wholly exposed though his helmet is still on. Boba’s body is lean and muscular, his skin tan, littered with scars like his armor. But still...art nevertheless just greatly more detailed now. You find it strange, almost comical actually. At first he wasn’t your anything, a guard if you had acknowledged him in the least, always looming behind. A second shadow. But, now he's undeniable and suffocating, he’s like…

fire.

It’s always fire with Boba, burning inside you. You’re surprised him touching you hasn’t completely disintegrated you yet. You used to go all night without thinking about him, place him far enough in the back of your brain so you could survive eight hours. But, being without him is like not breathing, even in your mind. So, waking up in the morning and seeing him bathed in the sunlight is as if taking your first breath after an eternity of drowning.

It’s a desperate gasp from the loss of him.

“Let’s start with something simple.” He says. “A punch.”

You nod focusing on him and he directs with his hand to back up. “I’m going to teach you primary types of punches, first a jab.”

Boba demonstrates a series of jabs, arms moving in a blur. You can hear the wind whipping with the force of it.

He’s strong, grateful, ruthless. He’s advised to watch his form, observe his steady movements. “When it’s a decent fighter,” he begins. “they won’t be easy to read. They’ll move their arm from the place where it is right forward , so you need to have a quick reaction time and defense saved in your muscle memory to react to it automatically. You understand?” You nod and he circles around you talking. “You won’t be able to tell which arm will strike first. So, when your punch lands, your arms should be close to fully extended, extending your striking range and improving your punching power.” He demonstrates again by throwing a quick punch that breezes pass your face and you flinch away.

“Land the punch with your index and middle fingers, with your fist rotated so that your thumb points downward on impact. Power is transferred better there, and you're less likely to break your hand.” You lower yourself into stance, but your form is all wrong so he comes up behind, his hands on your hips. “Relax your upper body and use speed instead of strength.” You let him correct your stance and he knees your thigh making you slide your feet further apart . “Rotate your body and be sure not to lean forward. And most importantly...” he trails off and you hear the smile in his voice. The sound of it makes you shudder like his breaths prickle your neck. “...protect that pretty face.” You nervously adjust your footing, squaring your feet just below your shoulders.

You throw a sloppy jab that makes the hunter grunt under his helmet. “Were you even paying attention?”

You grumble under your breath a few frustrated curses before throwing another jab. He shakes his head in disapproval and grabs your arms. “Straighten up and twist your hips. Keep your eyes on your target.” You try again and though you do a lot better you almost embarrassingly lose your balance, making Boba have to catch you. He groans under his helmet frustrated but pulls you up to your feet anyway. “Try again.” He orders. You can already feel yourself prickling with irritation but you're too keen on not giving up so easily. You ultimately go at this for hours, him grunting under his helmet and correcting you, you groaning and cursing. Finally Boba has had enough and tries a new tactic, “hit me.”

“What?” You gasp, stopping your fist in mid air. You’re drenched in sweat and heaving from exhaustion. Boba feels himself twitch in his pants. “Hit me.” He repeats, voice stronger. “N-no.” You protest and he shakes his head growling. “It won’t hurt.” He argues, and admittedly that stinks but you still refuse making his cheeks burn red. “Hit me like your people depend on it.” He says suddenly, and your eyes narrow at him. “I mean it!” He growls. “Hit me like I’m the only thing standing in your way of freeing your people.”

“No!” You choke, backing away. “I won’t.”

“If you won’t hit me! How will you ever defend your people?” He insists. You push at his chest but he doesn’t budge. “I can help them. What do you know?” He grips your arms firmly. “I know alot about war, girl. There’s no mercy for the weak and hesitant.” You scold him, this time pushing past him. “I’m not weak nor hesitant!” You sneer.

“Prove it.” He hisses. When you don’t turn around he pushes at you once more. “You say death is better than bondage? What is different from giving up and living and giving up and dying if either way you’ll be remembered as the last of the Nivrols.” You hault, your skin burning, you’re practically seething at his words. Knowing they held a deadly truth. “Because we’ll die with honor.” You growl, fisting your hands at your side. Boba steps closer, his head tilting down close to your ear. “But you don’t want your people to die, you want them to live like every great leader would.” He whispers, and you clench your eyes close as you feel him tilt closer. “So, are you willing to lay down and die for your people or are you going to fucking fight?”

You don’t think, you just move like he does. Fast and fluid.

It happens so fast, he barely has time to register what happens. You hardly know what’s happening yourself before it’s too late. He lands on the matted ground with a heavy thud and you hold your aching knuckles close to your chest. D-did you just fucking uppercut him? You’re bewildered, panting and staring at him with wide eyes. He’s still...too fucking still but then you hear it, grumbling from the depths of his chest and you’re frozen. He lets out another animalistic growl at the sight of you. Horribly disheveled, a wondrous messy thing. Lock strands loosely hanging, clothes ruffled and nearly exposing the sensitive skin he’s dreamed about mindlessly. You tower over him like a true Nivrol warrior, a savior coming to cut down a sarlacc herself. Your chest heaving and stickyly coated with sweat. Mouth parted and tongue peeking out and licking the saltiness tethering down to your lips.

You could crumble right now, he’s a vision of ecstasy. Pure static plowing right through you, electrifying every nerve in your body. He’s on his hands and knees gazing upward at you, panting. Then all of sudden he’s growling and springing forward, latching his arms around you and using all his weight to knock you over. Forcing all the wind out of your lungs. He wrestles your arms over your head once you’re on the ground and you grit your teeth squirming. Great sun god he’s fucking strong! His visor glaring below at you, you give in, gasping for air. You could fight him, you feel the edge of it curling in your stomach but you release the urge. Instead relenting and letting the sensation of him hovering over you consume you. Overwhelm you.

You’re like that for a while, a sweaty messy pile on the floor. He’s snarling at you as if he's an animal, ravishing with no reason, with the desire and instinct of wanting blood between its teeth. You’re afraid to move, laying like a corpse underneath him. His blunt nails bite into your skin as if he can’t decide how to devour you yet. You feel yourself clenching around nothing between your legs, grasping at an emptiness, longing to be full. You brace yourself for whatever comes next. His head lowers slowly and you’re trembling in his grasp. His visor comes closer until it’s taking up nearly all your vision. Then suddenly you’re closing your eyes, waiting in anticipation. Agony. Then...there’s a cool icy sensation pressing against your forehead. it’s heavy and hard, shoving your head into the mat. Your eyes hesitantly peer open and you realize he’s connecting your heads together, comfortably. It’s… debilitating.

You’re certain his eyes are close and you think maybe yours should be too. Some of the most beautiful moments in life are often spent with your eyes closed. Praying. Dreaming. Kissing. Wait, is this kissing? It feels like it, spine tingling and disembodying but it’s so much more. You know it. So you close your eyes and relinquish, pressing your head back into his. His breathing shudders at the action but he doesn’t move away. Instead his hand comes to gently cup the side of your face. With your free hand you hold the back of his helmet. His fingers loosen around your wrist, thumb brushing up and pressing into the center of your palm.

You’re disintegrated.

Utterly annihilated. This is it, he’s finally done it. Like a laser beam from the Death Star he’s ripped and vaporized you molecule after molecule. So, you catch yourself wondering how long does it take for a galaxy to collapse? Because it feels like only mere seconds for stardust to flood behind your eyes as if Boba has ignited a billion supernovas inside you.

Boba’s weight is heavy on yours, his legs stretching out and on either side of your own , trapping you in. You can hear faint panting breaths beneath the hem of his helmet. Your heart beats an inconsistent thump in your ears, and you absently wonder if you’ve ever heard it this loudly. His visor is a shimmering vision of your own reflection, holding it eagerly. You see your face glancing back at him with a peculiar look of joy and adoration, as if you’ve transcended. You’ll never get over how he looks at you. How could someone ever get over how a deliciously tan man admires them, as if they're a kaiburr crystal. His strong arms help pull you to your feet. You could smell the million miles of the galaxy on him. Feel the raveled adventures and experiences buried within his heating skin. You stand entwined , his arm swung around your waist and yours looping around his neck.

You almost ask him to lift his helmet, promise him you won’t peek, that you just want him to lift it so that you can kiss him...again. This time traditionally on the lips. Your mouth stutters open hesitantly but a voice stops you.

“Your majesty.” It proclaims.

There’s a brief silence.

You turn to glance at a man standing at the doorway, his braided beaded hair is tied back from his handsome face. He wears a wool brown coat and unpolished leather boots. You recognize him as Zoid’s son, Randdem. Zoid towers directly behind him, a disdain expression looms over his face. You nonchalantly remove yourself from Boba’s grasp and the hunter follows in suit. You felt pearls of sweat trickle down the back of your neck. If Zoid wants to say something crude he stifles under his breath.

You nod to Boba who takes that as his crew to leave, he walks casually to the changing room outside the hall. Zoid and Randdem wait for you to stride up the steps with the little bit of dignity you have left. You’re quite as their judging eyes glance you over, once Zoid has emptied all the pitying remarks from his head he sighs deeply before saying, “You remember my son, don’t you queen?”

Randdem is a husky young lad, bolder and fuller in outlines where Zoid is thinner. He’s worse than Zoid, really. He’s a four part combination of Zoid’s arrogance and pity with his mother’s selfishness and pride. Talking to him is like speaking to a tornado, not much to deliberate with a thing that only wants or knows destruction and dominance. The saddest part of it all is Randdem is fairly handsome and if it wasn’t for his redundant personality more suitors would surely be in his favor. You’ve never liked him, not even when you were children.

“Of course,” you swallow. Zoid nods approvingly,”I brought him here to get to know you better, seeing as he’ll be serving at your side as a council leader once I’m gone.”

Yeah, great. “My queen,” Randdem says and he halfway bows to you. “If you’d like I’d love to request having you to dinner this evening.” You must pull a face because Zoid scolds you. “I-I’m sorry!” You try to recover. “This is so unexpected.” You rub the back of your neck, embarrass.

“I understand your majesty, which is why I made sure to ask on a day I knew you’d be free.” Randdem continues. You give him a puzzle look. How long have they been planning this meeting? “Though, I wasn’t expecting to find you here?” He goes on. You try grinning but you know you must look ridiculous because all you want to is snarl at them so you just purse your lips instead and nod. “R-right.” You answer, your hands fidgeting at your side.

“So you’ll be ok with this evening?” He asks again.

You frown,“Well, actually-”

“Of course she will!” Zoid interrupts, and it takes every ounce of self restraint in your body not to uppercut him. “Isn’t that right?” He turns to you with a look of expectancy in his eyes. And you’re left gawking between the two before mustering up the tintest smile you could without cursing at them both.

“Of course.” You finally utter through gritted teeth. “It’ll give us time to catch up.”

“As I thought,” Zoid nods. They both turn to leave but before they’ve finally left Zoid turns around and crinkles up his nose. “And please I’d advise you freshen up before the evening, if you don’t mind. You smell ranted and too much like him. ” Randdem and Zoid chuckle on their way out before letting the heavy doors slam close behind them. You turn around, sighing with exasperation. Boba stands with his arms crossed, now fully armored. “So,” he began. “You have a date?” You groan, “Shut it, fett!” He chuckles and you feel your heart flutter but you are in too much of a sour mood to truly enjoy the sound of his laughter though it is nice to hear.

Great sun god give you strength. What have you been dragged into?

~*~

The dress Galine has fastened you in is way too nice for an evening to be met in disaster. The hunter is cautious with his hand, lingering and pressing into your back lower than what’d normally be appropriate. He lets it slither away and melt down at his side when the merchant warriors come into view at the entrance of the dining hall. Randdem leans back casually against the large doors, arms crossed and an impatient expression sunken in his features. “Shall you accompany me inside?”, he began. “Without your…companion.” He flicks his hand in Boba's direction and recoils it just as fast as if his skin cells reject even being near the same air as him. Your inside grind together to mush. “If your warriors will keep him company instead.” You bargain, and Randdem scowls at you but you just smile which makes his scowl impossibly more scornful. He clamps his mouth shut and nods pointedly, escorting you into the dining hall. His brows never unfrowrow . Like father, like son you supposed.

~*~

A single marble table with a white sheet handsomely decorates the dining hall. Two chairs set out on either ending sides of the table, and bestow on top are delicate appetizers and aged wine. Randdem pulls out your chair for you before walking and plopping down on his own. He picks lazily from a bowl munching on a purple fruit. While a young peasant boy fills your goblet , before scrambling into the kitchen away from the tense atmosphere. The air is stale from the lack of conversation. “I didn’t know you took an interest in me.” You quip, taking a slow sip of your wine. “I’m interested in our people’s future.” He sneers, plucking again at the fruit. A smile stretches thin on your lips. “I figured.” His own grin is sly and conspiratorial, making your leg twitch under the table. “You’re leading an entire world now. Do you believe it’d be wise to do it alone?” You shoot him a curious glance and it’s like he relishes in watching you grow flustered. “Historically,” you began. A knowing smile tilting upward on your lips, “women led their kingdoms better compared to kings. Especially alone.” He scowls at you but you pretend not to notice, instead politely sipping more wine.

“Are you referring to your grandmother?”

You nod, “When my grandfather passed she raised my mother alone and cared for the entire kingdom. Then for ten years my mother led this kingdom before marrying my father. During that time we prospered.”

He clasps his hands. “Those women were not only queens, but warriors.” You cock your head, a challenging glint in your eyes. “Warriors can be judged more than on just their fighting.” You respond. “They can be judged on their character. I was raised by two of the most prominent warriors of our lifetime, and not just because of their fighting skill but because of their heart.” Randdem gives you a smug impression. “Our people need more than good spirits and charm.”

“Then I will be whatever they need me to be.” You say.

He crosses his arms, leaning back making the wooden chair creak in protest. “Why is it then you pranced around with that hunter in the training hall?” You squint your eyes at him. “That doesn’t concern you.” He chuckles amused.“You know I’m right! That’s why you were down there with him.” You flush warm with embarrassment. “You shouldn’t comment on what you don’t know.” You snarl. “I've seen enough of your gushy display in one of the most sacred rooms in the entire kingdom to know you have no shame. How dare whore yourself out to t-that damned cloned buckethead your father allowed to roam the kingdom and filthy it!” This time you scowl at him. “You dare speak ill to me? You’re queen! Who are you to speak to me this way and question my father?!” You shot to your feet, voice ringing out. He jabs his finger in your direction, “You are not my queen!” He growls, teeth baring.

“But I am, whether your father or you can accept it or not! I am your queen.” You hiss, gripping either side of the table. “But, you’ll never be king.” He glares at you, eyes like two black infinite portals. “What were you expecting? That I’d marry you?” You croak. “Never.”

“The kingdom needs an honorable leader.” He retorts. “And that isn’t you!” You huff, crossing slowly around the table like a predator onto its prey. Menacing and delighted to devour. “And you think that’s you?” You snarl, lifting an eyebrow amused. “You have less honor than you think. Your father would rather give in and lay over as our people become enslaved, he’s less of a warrior than he is a leader.” He’s taken back by your words, fisting his hands in his lap.

“That’s not true you lying bastard!” He snaps, rising to his feet and knocking over his chair behind him with a loud clang.

“But it is.” You sneer. “My father and I wanted to fight for our freedom, but yours wanted our people to suffer again. And you accuse me of being the weak one? So, don’t you dare question me or him.” You growl, closing in. “And don’t dare talk about the hunter like that again or I’ll-”

“You’ll what?!” He interjects as he rounds the table all fuming anger and resentment. “Don’t make me laugh, boy.” You huff. “You think you’ll bring back our honor? You’ll have no honor left if I find out your father had anything to do with my father’s death. You and your whole family will be banished!” Randdem stills, paling at your accusation. “N-no!” He can barely spit out. “No! That’s isn’t t-true! M-my father is a man of honor!” He screams, like a child throwing a tantrum. You know the help is listening, who wouldn’t. You’re sure there’ll be rumors spreading like vicious fire tomorrow. You turn away and he’s left trying to follow after you but he’s so angry and confused he stumbles over his own feet having to use the table as leverage as he walks, while cursing loudly behind you. The dinner hall’s doors abruptly open and the hunter and merchant warriors usher themselves inside. You carefully maneuver yourself around them, making a hasty exit while Randdem spits more cruel insults. The hunter half expects you to turn around but you don’t budge. Instead you walk calmly out of Randdem’s sight and request the guards not let him enter the castle again without direct permission from you.

~*~

“What happened?” Boba spoke first and you’re startled by the gentleness of his voice. Your chambers are dark and quiet, chilly from the wind blowing in the open window. You perch yourself on the edge of your bed. “We had an argument, and he said some rather distasteful things...and so did I .” You groan and run a tiresome hand through your locks. “It’s clear Randdem and Zoid don’t want me to be queen.” When he steps closer you shift your eyes away. The hunter tilts his head.

“What else is bothering you?”

“He...well he insulted you.”

“So?” The hunter shrugs and you roll your eyes to the ceiling. “So,” you mock playfully. “I defended you.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to.”

He huffs as if scuffing down a laugh and you glare at him. The hunter looks down as if his shoes suddenly needed a close inspection. His shoulder shaking lightly, the corner of your mouth quirks up. “I thought you once saw me like you saw dirt on the bottom of your shoe.” He suddenly comments and you flick your eyes at him in shock and this time you make a quiet sound that made him peer halfway up at you.

“I see you like I see the sun, blinding. Even when I’m not looking at you, I feel you.”

The hunter’s head snaps up at you and you take a breath.

You wondered if he was smiling, imagined his eyes crinkling with the force of it. As if reading your mind a hesitant hand reaches out and touches the bottom of the helmet. You suddenly seem incapable of moving, face deliberately blank. He waits and there’s a brief moment before your eyes grow wide. You rise and walk close to him and your hand covers his own. His gloved hand is warm underneath the rough leather. You’re trembling with pure adrenaline, heart fluttering. You let him guide you into lifting it, you go slow enough for him to stop you if he wants to, but when he doesn’t you see his soft lips first and you almost lose your composure and kiss him right then but instead you take a deep inhale. Dark trimmed facial hair prances across the lower half of his face and his upper lip, it prickles against your fingers. Dark hair brushing under his ears and trimmed and faded almost down to his gorgeous sharp jawline. Some of his hair extends long over the back of his neck, then his broad nose comes into view, straight and wide. And suddenly...his brown eyes meet yours and you realize he’s more breathtaking than you could’ve ever dreamt. Handsome and sculpted as if everything in the universe that blooms from a certain beauty that commands your attention cracked open and offered you him. Now that you see him for the first time...smiling at you...you realize

like the moon he’s a stealer of light but you know nothing better that could hold light like the smile upon his face because just like the moon he’s crafted to glow. So, maybe he’s collected borrowed time, star dust, and gunpowder. Enough wisdom and morals to fill a holy scripture but enough violence and death to also burn the same book to ash by the touch of his fingertips. Enough adventure to last lifetimes and fill children’s heads with a mindless abundance of wonder and fantasy. Enough vulnerability hidden away to quiver at your hands and melt like an ice sculpture to his knees. There’s so many ways this could end, but with him in front of you like a heavenly body, you know it’s barely begun, whatever universe that was slowly being born into existence between you two. You knew you’d be tethered to him by it forever.

“Come with me.” You whisper softly and his brown eyes gleam, heart thumping against his chest.

“Where?”

“Outside.”

You point to the window and he rubs a slow hand up his arm while the other holds his helmet against his side.

“It’s cold.” He protests and you giggle to yourself as you begin to clamper out the window anyway. The ledge is much smaller compared to you now of course, though you still manage to crawl out and sit near the window. You lean back on the kingdom wall carefully, knowing Galine would kill you if you soiled your gown. Your thighs rest on the ledge while the rest of your body hangs over. You close your eyes but the corners of your mouth twitch up in a small victorious grin when you hear his defeated sigh. Boba comes out more smoothly than you as if the womp rat has done it a thousand times and he rests himself beside you.

After a moment of staring into endless space he utters, “Tell me about the stars.” You bite your bottom lip. “The stars have secrets like us my mother used to tell me, but they also have stories.”He tilts his head, waiting. You smile, closing your eyes tighter and breathing in deeply. You remember your mother taking you into her lap at the window and oiling your small braids and scalp. “She’d say the sky and the world fell in love. That the sky hung the moon for the world, and that the world in return gave the sky, flowers. My mother said the sun god was born first, then all the other gods followed.” She’d tell you each god’s birth and their purpose as her soft massaging hands lulled you to sleep.

“You believe that?” He questions, lifting an eyebrow . You look at him, baring a cheeky smile. “That two powerful lovers created a universe of their own? I witness it all the time.” You gesture to the hundreds of homes stretching out in the grasslands of the kingdom. Boba chuckles, smiling at you and leaning his head back against the wall and you couldn’t help but stare at the subtle movements. You know he wasn’t doing anything extraordinary but you could tell he was the god of his life, of his own destiny. We’re all the gods of small things, even if it’s just ourselves. With an upturn face you peer at him. If you both were gods you wanted to meet him halfway to an astral plane where both your heavens collided.

So...you kiss him, mouth slotting over his gently, soul transcending to the stars. Your mouth becomes an open exhibit for his tongue to explore through. Instead of his eyes, his wet warmth admires the best parts of you. Flicking and tasting the dirtiest details with the filthiest sweetness he’s ever known. Your fingers curl into the nape of his dark coarse hair, tugging. As if teasing the strings from an instrument it pulls a wondrous sound from his lips, an orchestra rumbling in his chest. His heavy groan quiet against your lips, a song only yours.

If tonight you could make love to him, you’d push him over the sheets of your bed, lay him bare and golden like a horizon. Kiss his scarred skin and lick the stardust from his flesh. Let him wither you down into a vulnerable shaking pile on the blanket and obliterate your ego and the rising sarcastic remarks on your tongue and so maybe then when he’s laid warm on top of you, weary and desperate, you suddenly appreciate everything in the universe that is...

...metal, quiet , and green.

And it lead you like little boats floating down aisles back to him.

Back home.

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