⭒ summary: when you were told to dance before the daimyo of tatooine, you didn't think that your night would end in his bed, but even a king cannot deny the dance of the desert snake
⭒ pairings: boba fett x female!AFAB reader
⭒ rating: explicit 18+ MINORS DNI
⭒ word count: 7.9k (hoooooly fuck lol)
⭒ tw/cw: SMUT! public nudity, lap dancing, slight voyeurism if you squint, unprotected PiV, oral (f & m receiving), crumbs of a breeding kink
⭒ chapter theme song(s): the snake, lana lubany — do it for me, rosenfeld
a/n: this is basically 8 thousand words of pure self-indulgent smut that also has a bit of my poetic pizzazz to it. I also don't know when to stop writing so this ended up being so fucking long but I'm not complaining cause for once I'm actually satisfied with how this ended up! (this has not been beta-read so we're raw-dogging this fic) as always, please remember to reblog and enjoy!! may the 4th be with you ♡ (banner made by me!)
-
Breathe in.
There he was.
Breathe out.
Sitting on his throne, legs spread open in an image of power. Placement secured on the top step, fortifying his dominance as he watched... and watched... and watched. A statue of green among a sea of the lesser evil with his arms across the manchette, Fennec to his right, and a silver Mandalorian to his left.
Breathe in.
You stood in the eye of the storm. The center of the daimyo's den was yours and the ocean of faces from his personal court were your spectators. Eyes that watched with hunger and awe. Lips that were curled in smiles or open-mouthed by your attire — or lack thereof.
And yet among the sea, you were captured by the land. Sturdy and tangible, just a few paces away in front of you. Green like the thick jungles; yellow like the rising and setting suns; red like the color of your lips.
Breathe out.
The black visor of the helmet left nothing but imagination. Wonder. You hadn’t seen the daimyo before and in retrospect, you hadn’t even known there was a new daimyo until you were called to perform for him. Now that you stood in front of the throne, the grated ground biting into your bare feet, you realized that this new daimyo, this new king of Tatooine, was far more of an interest than you expected.
While Boba Fett was hidden underneath the shelter of his helmet, you, on the other hand, were left bare like the day you were born, save for the deep green jeweled sash that tied around your bare waist. A golden ribbon was painted around your body, curling across your nipples and around your limbs like a glistening yellow snake. With each roll of your hips, hands caressing up your body to weave through your hair, the ribbon on your skin rippled like a moving snake, drawing the attention of those who stood in the throne room.
You didn’t need to see his eyes to feel them. His gaze left a path of goosebumps across every curve, every bare stretch of skin that captured his warm attention. Shoulders squared, he sat reclined in his seat as the flute player continued to play their tune, breathing into the long wooden pipe.
The music was so delicate and soft that you felt it spark a flame at the base of your throat. The embers traveled down your sternum to the heart of your belly, humming pleasantly as the music made you move, bringing your hips to a slow and sensual drag from side to side.
You danced the tune of Tatooine — hips moving like the ripples on the dunes; arms and hands curling like the warm breeze. The music was that of the rolling sands and you were the viper, leaving your mark in the room as it leaves its marks in the grain. You slithered your hands down your body, head rocking back as you shut your eyes and followed the flute.
Breathe in.
Boba moved, a slight shuffle echoing from the throne as he leaned farther back and shifting his lap forward. Folding his arms across his torso, his chin dipped as he watched — a sign of his attention as he tracked the movements of your hips. Sensually and slowly. Never rushing. Giving view of every corner that the daimyo so eagerly wished to see.
To the dreamy, seductive flute, you strut up the steps. There was an added fire to your walk; the tense slither of a snake approaching the throne. Running your hand through your hair, down your neck and body, you approached him and slowly circled him, index finger tracing a path up his arm.
The Mandalorian to his left shifted but paused when Boba raised a finger. Fennec stood off of the manchette and took a step back, watching you with a raised brow of amusement as you held her gaze, nails dragging across the daimyo’s shoulder to the center of his chest where you traced a circle in the green armor.
You needed to be bold. You wanted to be brash. Possessive. Gloating as you touched the daimyo while his right hand and guarding Mandalorian were standing right there.
If he was to remember you, desire you, then you would make your imprint on him, as his gaze had done so to you.
The eyes in the room no longer stared; their mouths, closed. Faces were now blank — voids of indifference, of background. The music washed away their shuffling feet, soft flute distracting you from the murmurs of surprise at your audacity to touch the man on the throne.
Your attention was stolen by his mere presence. He was demanding even as you stalked around him, nails teasingly tracing the bottom of his helmet.
Locking onto that expressionless visor, you spread your legs and laid claim to his lap.
He felt so large, so tense and muscular underneath your legs that for a moment, you nearly forgot that you were meant to dance. You nearly forgot that an entire audience of prospects watched — businessmen, gangsters, crime lords, rich benefactors… each here to lay tribute at the daimyo’s feet for saving them from the corruption of the Mayor Mok Shaiz.
Sucking in a sharp breath, you swallowed and continued your fluid movements, grabbing his hands to guide them to your hips. He squeezed the soft flesh just above the jeweled sash — a thin article that did little to hide your cunt, now bare and laid across his crotch like an open invitation.
Hands on his shoulders, you flipped your hair and slowly ground against him to the sensual cadence of the music. He guided you with his hands on your hips, moving you slowly but surely. Giving into temptation, you heard him suck in a breath as he traced his hands up your sides, thumbing your perked nipples.
The jolt that shot through your belly was sinful. Instant desire overwhelmed your senses, drying your mouth. You wet your lips, catching his attention.
"Do not be afraid, my lord daimyo," you whispered softly, pressing your cheek against the helmeted ear. "My bite holds no venom."
Shifting your weight to your legs, you sat up and traced a fingertip down your lips… down the center of your throat… between the valley of your bare breasts… before dragging your hands down your thighs and back up his armor.
Boba's chest rumbled underneath your fingers. "Are you under the impression that I fear you?"
"No," you murmured, soft with amusement. You imagined his eyes following the movement of your hands as you snaked your hands up your breasts. Desire burned, unspoken yet scalding between your fluid body and his rigid muscles. “But you are cautious.”
You dragged your hands down his arms, squeezing his biceps as you went farther down.
“So tense,” you breathed. Eyes flashing with challenge, you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth and bent down, hovering your lips over his helmeted mouth. “Perhaps you should relax, my daimyo. Your subjects are watching.”
With a languid roll, he guided your barely-clothed cunt over his cock, rocking your hips to the music. Clit grazing the seam of his flightsuit, your lips parted with a muted moan and he chuckled deeply — a noise so muffled that you nearly missed it had you not felt his chest vibrate.
"Your master," he hummed curiously, relaxing his arms back on the arm rests. "Does he care for you?"
Though the question was unlike anything you expected to hear from the daimyo, you remained devoted to what he wanted — the lustful grind you disguised as a dance to the flute. Feeling no need to lie, you shook your head from side to side. "He does not, though I cannot ask for more than the home he offers me. I am in servitude to Master Aveen.”
"No," he breathed, reaching up to trace a knuckle along your jawline."Not anymore. A dove does not coo when she is kept in a cage."
You dragged the pad of your thumb along the pointed metal jaw and cheekbones, brows furrowing.
"Is that what you wish from me?" You murmured softly, swiveling your hips while you rolled your head back. Your hand graced up to his neck, tugging at the fabric around his throat so you could slip your fingers across the warm flesh. His pulse greeted you — measured yet powerful.
“Do you wish to trade my cage for a palace?"
"The galaxy will be your cell, as it is my own," he promised as he caressed his fingertips down your arm, giving your wrist a light tug. You leaned forward, breasts grinding against his armored chest. His helmet tipped, watching you with total devotion. When he spoke, his voice was thick and baritone, husky and deep enough to draw a soft sigh from your lips.“Unless you are a divine goddess, boundless in the universe — a theory I am inclined to believe."
He curled two fingers, gesturing for you to come closer.
You bit your lip and hovered your lips over the mouth of his helmet.
"Anything you ask, I will give you. Your freedom is yours if you so choose it."
The truth behind his words weighed heavily in your chest, causing your loose dance to slow to a stop.
He wished to set you free.
Aveen had your services until you paid off your debt — a debt that Boba Fett could pay off with a mere twitch of his hand. You'd be free with a single word from the daimyo. In turn for what, dancing? To please him? To live in a grand monastery, showered with riches from a powerful ruler? There were no chains to hold you down; no agreements that would bind you to him. You were free to leave if you wished…
…but a life of luxury was nothing to dispute. You made your mind the moment he implied to have you. To keep you as his.
A muse for the daimyo, strong and powerful and oh-so yours.
Lips curling in a devious smile, you regained the rhythm to the music and grasped the edges of his helmet, tempted to remove it and see his face. But that was a secret that you wished to keep for now. Instead, you tilted his head back until the briefest slip of skin peeked from underneath the bodysuit.
Like a snake's tongue, delicate and quick, you licked a stripe across the salty skin, tangy and dried by the sands. He tasted like a man, metallic and musky and human — capable of being touched, of falling into temptation.
The thought of being claimed in front of everyone in the room felt tempting, but the daimyo was extraordinarily patient, even as you discreetly bit his neck. His hands were patient and methodical, brushing down the expanse of your torso to your back where he grasped the globes of your ass with both gloved hands, squeezing tight as he guided your hips into another slow grind.
You felt it then — the hard length that strained against the fabric of his trousers. Devilish lips twitched into a grin and you shut your eyes, hiding your face in the crook of his neck as his rich voice spoke out over the flute, “Aveen.”
The flute player stopped, glancing curiously between Boba and the Trandoshan that stepped out of the crowd. Boba jerked a finger towards Fennec, beckoning her closer. You met her gaze and smiled, eyes half-lidded from the lust that flashed her a clear message — ask and you shall receive.
Fennec looked unmoved but you saw the corner of her lip twitch as she approached, watching Aveen alongside the daimyo.
The Trandoshan looked terrified as he sputtered, "Y-Yes, Mighty Daimyo? Is she not to your liking? I can retrieve you another-"
"No."
Boba squeezed your hips when you nibbled on the warm skin of his neck. You obediently listened and pulled away to adjust your position. Rather than kneeling on his thighs, you sat on one and leaned your head against his shoulder, tracing patterns on his armor. Turning your head, you joined Fennec and Boba's stare, peering into the crowd as Aveen nervously wrung his hands together. He met your gaze but quickly looked away when Boba cleared his throat.
"N-No?" Aveen echoed, unable to keep his business composure before the frightening crime lord. You hadn’t seen him choke up before so you watched with delicious delight as your keeper, owner, the master of your debt, shriveled underneath Boba Fett’s helmeted stare.
"No," Boba restated. "I will pay off this treasure's debt. She is free from your care and under my protection from here on out.”
Aveen sputtered. “B-B-But she’s my best dancer! I’ve never gotten a complaint from her and she has many recurring customers and it is good business and-“
You tensed, grimacing at the mention of the customers who more often than not, left fingerprint bruises along your arms and neck. Boba noticed your sudden tension and went rigid with anger.
“Quit your stammering, lizard,” he snapped, shifting to stand. You stood alongside him, half of your body hidden behind his back. You peeked from behind his back, smirking with wicked satisfaction as Aveen clamped his jaw shut and nodded, bowing at the waist.
“Y-Yes of course, might Daimyo.” He straightened up only to bow once more. You snorted, rolling your eyes. “She is yours.”
“Yes,” the Daimyo rumbled, turning his head to look at you through the black visor. “She is.”
Your cunt fluttered, pulsing with the same desire that lingered on his tongue. You went still, swallowing thickly, eyes darting back and forth across his helmet.Taking your hand in his own, Boba turned to his audience and said, “Your tributes are accepted and the loyalty you have established today will provide fruitful opportunities in the future. Mistress Shand will answer your questions and handle matters in my stead.”
With a final clench of your hand, he stalked down the steps, pulling you alongside him through the sea of people. The last thing you saw before Boba led you up a flight of stairs was the smirk that Fennec flashed Mando, and the curt head shake that the Mandalorian gave her in return.
-
The view from Boba’s balcony was truly a marvel. The Dune Sea stretched far beyond the horizon — an endless ocean of tan sands that glistened in the passion fruit light of the setting suns. Warm breezes tickled your skin like gentle caresses, as if Tatooine itself was gracing you with the comfort of your newfound freedom.
You nearly mistook Boba’s gentle touches as the wind. His fingertips were so soft and full of praise as he placed a gloveless hand on your thigh, brushing his fingertips up underneath the jeweled sash around your waist. With a tug, he unraveled it and tossed it to the side.
Shutting your eyes, you hummed with pleasure as he palmed your hips, pressing your ass against the strain in his pants.
“You’ve made quite the impression today,” he mumbled, cheek pressing against your hair.
“A performance only for the Daimyo of Tatooine,” you promised, relaxing your head back against his shoulder. Sighing at his touch, you opened your eyes and peered up, only to go tense when you realized that there was no helmet to hide his face.
His tan skin was peppered with the dust of Tatooine, colored like the burnt sands and full of rosy life. Calm brown eyes washed away the tension brought by the helmet, bringing about a sense of safety that made you exhale a soft sigh. It was the gaze of a man that had learned from his experiences — wisdom brought on by grief, survival, and near brushes with death. The grooves and wrinkled skin were testimonies of his life — a life that you wished to learn, listen to, and live with.
You turned, pressing your breasts against his chest and in a bold move, perched up on the tips of your toes to kiss the corner of his mouth. His brows rose, lips curling with the softest smirk of surprise before his eyes fell down to his chest at the finger you pressed into the armored sternum.
“Would you like a private dance, my king?” You purred, slowly pushing him backwards until his legs hit the edge of the bed. Boba sat down with a breathy chuckle.
“King?” He mused as you crawled over his lap, knees digging into the mattress while your nimble fingers unclasped his armor. You set it down, sliding down to your knees to unlock the belt from around his waist. Little by little, piece by piece, his armor began to decorate the floor, leaving him in the black tunic with a patient yet needy expression on his face as you kneeled before him, hands on his knees to spread his legs wide.
“Yes,” you hummed, kissing his kneecap through the thick fabric. “You sit on a throne, the gotras are in the palm of your hand, and you are honored like the rulers of old through tributes. Tell me, do you care for the sands and its people or the riches you’ve acquired from your business?”
“The Dune Sea is my home,” he said as he pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it to the ground alongside his armor. His gaze became heavy, stoic with duty. “I wouldn’t have rid the land of the spice trade if I cared for riches. Its people… the land… So long as I am in charge, it is mine to uphold and keep safe.”
You hummed, satisfied by your answer. “The wise words of a king.”
He didn’t object but you saw in his eyes that he didn’t entirely believe you either.
You slipped your fingertips underneath the waistband of his trousers and he raised his hips, giving you the room needed to pull his pants down his thighs, freeing his strained cock. Rigid and pulsing with a thick vein down the side, it sprung up against his waist. Your mouth watered and you swallowed thickly, casting the discarded pants to the side.
Sliding back over his lap, you pushed Boba’s shoulders until his back hit the mattress. He peered at you with lust clouding his eyes, hands grabbing your hips as you placed your slick cunt atop his cock and began to grind up and down its length.
The wet heat combined with your pulsing, needy cunt made his throat bob with a swallow.
To your delight, Boba let out a low moan — a pleasured growl from the pit of his chest. True to your promise, you ground your hips and moved your hands down your snaking body, shoulders sensually circling while your fingertips scaled the entirety of your torso — from weaving through your hair to pinching your own nipples, you made sure his attention remained entirely on you.
The tip of his cock rubbed against your clit with each steady grind. Tremors of pleasure sent goosebumps down your spine, thighs, all the way to the tips of your curling toes. You put your hand on his chest, holding yourself upright as you swiveled your hips in a circle, spelling out your desire while smearing your slick up the entirety of his length.
“Tell me, Boba Fett,” you breathed heavily, rocking your head back when his fingertips dug into your hips, speeding up the pace of your grind. You met his eyes and smirked. “Will you give yourself to a lowly dancer for the night?”
“Don’t play coy with me, princess,” he huffed, bearings just a touch of slight amusement. “You know the answer to that question.”
Yes, you did.
Chuckling, you bent over and splayed kisses down his chest. You continued to pepper kisses over his sanded skin until you descended between Boba’s legs, hands grasping his thighs while his fingers wove through your hair.
With the fluidity of a snake’s movements, you licked a stripe up his length and circled your tongue over his tip. His grip on your roots tightened but you felt no pain, nothing but the dull tug of his fingertips as you took his cock into your mouth and began to bob your head up and down.
His deep-bellied moans made your cunt yearn — a fire that was only quelled when you began to rub your clit with greedy fingers. The other hand slid up and down his length, followed by your lips as you sucked and licked and tasted the precum dripping from his weeping head.
“Stars,” he groaned, pulling your head from his cock with a lewd pop! He dipped his chin to meet your gaze over the heaving rise and fall of his chest.“You’re going to be the death of me.”
You licked your saliva-covered lips, laughing lightheartedly. “A blissful way to die, I’d imagine.”
Fisting his cock, you circled your hand up and down with quick movements, dragging your tongue along his length. Tightening his hold on your head, he began to jerk his hips upwards with slight movements, catching the back of your throat just fast enough to keep you from gagging. His movements became sporadic, lost to the haze of bliss before suddenly, he rocked his head back and burst in your mouth, spilling ropes of cum down your throat. It tasted tangy, sharp and salty on your tongue, yet oddly pleasant once you caught the look of desire still burning in his eyes.
Sitting up, he grasped your face with both hands and pulled you up to the bed. You locked lips in a fiery and passionate kiss, tongues twisting and curling in one another’s mouths. Impatient with need, he spun you over onto your back, one hand cupping the side of your face while the other lowered to your breast, pinching your gold painted nipple.
Breathily moaning into his mouth, you tightened your hands on his biceps, nails curling into the soft skin when his lips moved to your jaw… throat… clavicle… lower and lower, peppering kisses down your sternum before he latched his warm lips around your nipple. The feeling was ticklish at first but it quickly became sensual when you glanced at him and met his hungry eyes right when his tongue darted out, circling around your nipple, leaving a trail of glistening saliva that dripped down the side of your breast.
That sight alone was enough to make you keen.
Turning your head against the mattress, you shut your eyes in pleasant delight and sighed — a noise that made him chuckle into your breast. He pulled away with a wet pop, mimicking you from earlier.
“Enjoying yourself, princess?”
“Like never before,” you breathed, teeth flashing in a dopey smile when he moved his attention to your other nipple, offering it the same massage with his tongue — a slow circle that moved inwards. Teeth grazed the sensitive nub and you let out a light squeal of laughter — one which quickly became a moan when a sudden fingertip traced up your inner thigh.
“Pretty noises from a pretty girl,” he whispered against your skin, igniting blazing goosebumps across your belly.
As he moved down your body, marking you with open-mouthed kisses that left purple love bites, his gaze never left your own. Eye contact felt crucial in that moment. It was like you were signing yourself to him, fortifying the fact that from now on, no other man would ever touch you, feel you, or kiss you like the Daimyo of Tatooine.
Leaving open-mouthed kisses all along your groin left you reeling for more. Chest heaving with anticipation, you raised your head just in time to catch him settling between your thighs. He hooked your legs over his shoulders, dragging his tongue along his bottom lip as he finally looked away from your eyes to glance at your cunt.
Whatever hesitation Boba previously had was no longer an issue. Pure lust was now painfully obvious in his eyes as he looked up with burning anticipation — and just when you hoped that he would finally, finally begin, he started to kiss your inner thigh. Beginning at your knee, he moved inwards, ending with a final, wet kiss in the junction between your hip and impatient heat. He slowly moved to the other and repeated the same slow trail of purple-red love bites — a slow and painful wait that made you mewl with anticipation.
“My lord Daimyo” you began, voice thick with eagerness underneath your sickly sweet tone, “Do you wish to torment me all evening?”
“Torment you?” He chuckled, dragging his nose along this mosaic of beautiful bruises. “My treasure, I am tormented by patience. If I were to have my way with you, I would have already fucked you into oblivion and filled you with enough cum to watch it drip out of this pretty cunt. You want to know torment?”
His eyes darkened and he looped his arms underneath your thighs, spreading your legs even wider. Devilish desire lingered in his gaze as he dragged his tongue over his teeth.
“I’ll give you torment.”
His lips brushed against your folds, placing a territorial kiss over your cunt before his tongue dipped through and licked a stripe up to your clit. You keened at the warmth of his tongue, jaw dropping as you let loose an illicit moan of pleasure. Teeth just barely grazed your labia before his lips suddenly latched around your clit, sucking as though he wanted to permanently imprint your taste on his tongue; licking like he wanted to clean every drop of arousal; breathing as if to hold the smell of your skin within himself for eternity.
You clenched your eyes shut, back curving as your grip tightened in the sheets. White knuckles ached with pain but you were far too driven by bliss to notice anything other than the wet feeling of his lips and tongue dancing along your pulsing cunt, sucking and biting and eating like he was starved for you. You anchored yourself in the mattress, grinding your hips against his relentless tongue as you felt the bubbling heat spill throughout your belly. The pressure grew like an inflated balloon, blowing larger and larger with each stroke of his tongue, each possessive suck of his lips around your clit, each dip into your cunt.
His fingertips clenched your thighs hard enough to bruise but the pain was welcome. In your state of clouded euphoria, you saw that he was just as pleased by the taste of you on his tongue; the moans and mewls that fell from your lips with each slow drag of his tongue. He moved patiently, purposefully, as if the goal wasn’t to bring you pleasure, but just to savor you.
You shut your eyes and rocked your head back when you felt the orgasm build at the base of your cunt, rising up your body like lava threatening to spew out of a volcano. Your thighs twitched, instinctively clenching shut; yet his arms flexed to keep them open, forbidding you from tightening your legs any farther.
“Boba,” you breathed, and his eyes immediately dart to your lips at the sound of his name, spoken so breathily and thick with passion that he momentarily paused ravaging you to say, “Say it again, princess.”
You succumbed to his demand rather quickly, crying out when he gave a quick kitten-lick at your swollen nub, “Boba! F-Fuck I’m going to come!”
“Not now. Just a few more minutes, treasure.”
Fuck, right there—
“Boba,” you wailed, clenching the sheets with white knuckles. “Fuck, I-I don’t think I can-“
“Yes,” he insisted, voice muffled by your cunt. You met his eyes, panting heavily at the dominance that sat in his gaze. “You will.”
It was the possessiveness in his voice that ruined every semblance of composure left. Tremors wracked through your thighs, shaking your entire body as you arched your back to the sensation of his wet tongue lapping up the juices that dripped down his chin. His nose graced your clit with each nudge of his head and just when you felt as though the balloon of pleasure would burst, two thick fingers pushed into you right as he sucked on your clit, ripping his name from your lips in a wail that echoed out of Boba’s quarters.
If his subjects weren’t aware of your proclivities, they were definitely aware now.
And yet, in your heightened state of bliss, you hadn’t come. The pressurized feeling was still growing in your belly, drawing tears to your eyes as you begged, “Please, please, please, B-Boba. I can’t last any longer. F-Fuck! Oh my gods…”
“Hold it, little one,” he ordered, quiet yet possessive within the low rasp of his words. Fingers curled, pressing and scissoring against your walls in a way that made you lean into his touch. They were thick enough to stretch you, pulling the filthiest groans and moans that continued to echo down the halls, bouncing off of the stone walls. Tongue lapping at your clit, he continued to fuck you with his fingers until you were a writhing mess, held down by the one arm he had curled around your thigh.
Obscene, wet noises filled the air alongside the addictive stench of sex — smells and sounds that drove you to that peak, that perfect little point where euphoria met satisfaction and steaming desire.
Before you knew it, the cord snapped and total bliss washed over you like an ocean wave. You shattered into pieces of glassy bliss, crying out his name. For a moment, it felt as though you had transcended into the clouds of intoxicating exhilaration. Your body was riddled with tingles, too hot and too pure to stifle, even as Boba continued working his tongue in and out, up and down, side to side across the throbbing clit that pulsed with overstimulation. Your cunt seemed to bear its own heartbeat, drumming violently against his mouth and fingers before he finally pulled away with a last suck against your labia.
“Good girl,” he said quietly, mumbled under his breath as if the praise wasn’t meant to be heard. Nonetheless, it made you smile in your state of exhaustion. You ran your hands through your hair, sucking in deep breaths to quell the heart that beat against your ribs.
His lips glistened as he smirked at your brief bit of post-orgasm exhaustion.
“A vision of beauty,” he breathed, drunk with lust. Hooded eyes briefly caught your own as he dragged his tongue from your belly button up to your clavicle. Swallowing thickly, you were reduced down to total silence, captured by the pure heat in his eyes. The mattress dipped as he hovered over you, his lips now hovering over your own.
Solid brown eyes met your own and for a brief moment, you thought that he was in pain with the deep furrow of his brows and the purse of his lips.
You quickly came to realize that it was not pain, but discomfort caused by his throbbing cock that swelled back up during his feast.
Biting your lip, you dragged your hands over his shoulders and down his arms, nails prodding into his biceps to tease a bit of pain. Boba noticed and smiled, lowering his head to gently caress the tip of his nose along your cheekbone. As he did this, he raised his hand to your mouth, dipping his glistening fingers past your lips. You sucked his fingers clean, holding his gaze as spit trickled down your lips, messy and unkempt in the best way.
Boba nestled his nose down the side of your face and into your hair. His voice broke the silence with a whisper into your ear...
“I taste the Dune Sea on your skin.”
He graced a kiss underneath your eye.
“I feel the sandy winds with each breath from your lips.”
A kiss to your cheek. Soft and feathery, full of an unfamiliar tenderness that made you smile like a lovesick fool.
You met his eyes, pupils blown with nothing short of adoration. The two of you wore the same look — the smiles of two soulmates that had found one another.
Boba’s lips twitched into a slow and seductive grin, brilliant eyes flashing as they dipped down your body.
“The goddess of the sands must envy you, for you are Tatooine’s most covetous treasure.”
It felt impossible to breathe for a moment. You were startled by his poetic words — eyes blown wide, lips parted in stunned silence. He smiled at your expression, lowering his head to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck. Kissing your jugular, he was greeted by the rapid bah-dump of your heartbeat, making him chuckle.
Collecting yourself with a deep breath, you raised your hand and caressed your knuckles down the side of his face. He went rigid, instinctively drawing in a sharp breath at the gentle touch.
“What have I done to deserve you?” You questioned quietly, clouded eyes flickering across his face as he pulled away from the shelter of your neck. You knew you sounded vulnerable but the thought of baring yourself to him, beyond just your physical body, felt comforting. “I’ve spent my entire life hoping I would be taken from Aveen’s estate, but I never imagined that I would be in the company of a man of power, much less a frightening crime lord with a secret poet buried somewhere underneath his tongue.”
He tipped over, falling onto his side with a curt huff of laughter — a noise that you knew you would cherish the moment your body filled with warm delight. Gods, you couldn’t believe that this was the frightening, dominating ruler seated upon the throne just hours earlier. Before, you were frightened yet aroused by the mysteriousness of his hidden face. His armored body had drawn curiosity in the form of desire but this bare, human form that laid next to you, facing you with flushed cheeks and warm eyes… he was something you yearned for.
Protection, love — both of which were firm in his gaze.
You moved to your side and inched closer to him, throwing your leg over his hip. The close contact drove his twitching shaft between your thighs, nuzzled comfortably against the warmth of your soaked pussy.
“I want you to feel safe,” he said softly, fingertip dragging down your arm to your hip where he traced a circle against your goose-pimpled skin. “The moment I saw you, I knew you were a gift from Tatooine — a treasure too pure to be bound by servitude. You must know, I do not take lightly to the idea of bondservants or slaves — it is a business that has no place in the galaxy, be it by debt or birth. The monastery has become my home and I will not have it become a prison — not to you, nor anyone who walks within these walls.”
He captured your lips in a kiss and you could swear that your heart sprouted roses.
“What is mine is yours,” he sighed into your mouth. “Should you choose to leave, I will not stop you… but know that I will mourn your absence like the Dune Sea mourns its waters.”
You shook your head quickly, gulping down the sudden lump in your throat. His words shocked through you like cold water, drawing another fit of arousal in your belly — but this desire felt warmer, like a lust for the moon had become a burning desire for the sun.
With a brief roll, you shifted your weight, pushing him onto his back for you to straddle his waist. His cock remained pinned between his adonis and your pulsing cunt. Hands settled comfortably on your thighs, inching up as you leaned forward to press a kiss in the center of his scarred chest.
“I fear I’ve fallen in love with you, Boba Fett,” you admitted in a soft whisper, bringing forth the truth as if it was a secret between the two of you. His eyes briefly flashed with shock before he smiled and cupped the side of your face, circling the pad of his thumb over your lips.
“As do I, princess… As do I.”
Driven by the passion in his voice, you closed your lips around his thumb, swiveling your tongue in a slow circle. Hooded eyes locked onto your lips, darkening with desire before he slowly pushed his thumb deeper into your mouth until your lips touched his hand. You pulled away and taking his wrist in a tight grip, you moved it down to your breast, guiding his palm over it.
“You have offered everything to me,” you hummed, “Now I give all of me to you. My freedom is mine but my body is yours, beloved.”
“Mine?” He echoed almost playfully, though his face remained stoic as he grabbed both of your hips, rolling your cunt languidly against his cock as you had done earlier. Meeting your eyes through the blanket of lust clouding you both, you formed a small smile and nodded.
“Yours.”
Molten desire bled from his gaze. It was like his heart had been slashed open, leaving behind nothing but a raw, unrefined hunger that made your stomach twist and turn with anxious need. Thumbing a love bite on your hip, you noticed his eyes flickering from yours to your lips, down to your breasts, landing finally on his cock as you teased a slow grind, gracing your clit against the tuff of hair on his adonis.
A low growl made you pause with surprise.
“Give me a word and use it when you wish for me to stop,” he gritted, lifting your hips to position the tip of his cock at your slicked entrance.
It took a second, but the brief blink felt agonizing as your lips formed the word, “Ocean.”
His eyes widened for just a moment. Something along the lines of nostalgia and confusion crossed his face and though you did not understand why, you did not ask. He would tell you on his own time. For now, he seemed pleased with the word and that was all that mattered.
His thread of patience finally snapped and with his hands on your hips, he slammed you down on his cock, sheathing it fully inside of you without so much as an ounce of mercy. You held his gaze as your mouth fell open, face falling with a mix of shock and pained bliss. It hurt at first but the pain quickly became pleasure as you began to grind back and forth instead of rising up and down. Boba’s hands on your hips tightened, stilling your movements.
Eyes clenched shut, the muscle in his jaw twitched as he ground his teeth together. You wanted to move, to continue grinding your clit against his adonis, but he kept you still.
“Don’t move,” he grunted, glancing down from your face to your conjoined bodies. “Just… let me feel you.”
You moaned softly, walls fluttering around his cock as you adjusted to his size. Hunching over, you placed your palms against his thrumming chest, curling your fingers into his skin as you bowed your head to catch your breath.
“Boba,” you whined, clawing at his skin, leaving angry red stripes down his chest. “Please… move.”
“You wished for torment, princess," he smirked. "I’m simply giving you what you desire.”
Hands palming your waist, you gasped sharply as he began to thrust into you, spearing you with his cock as if you weighed nothing in his large hands. Dripping like a broken faucet, your slick trickled down his shaft, wet and sticky with each measured clap of contact that echoed through Boba’s quarters.
You fondled your own breasts, fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples for an added dose of stimulation — only to earn a sharp slap against the globe of your ass. Squealing with surprise, your eyes widened and you lowered your hands from your chest, locking onto his smug stare.
“I didn’t say you could touch yourself,” he warned, arching a brow. “Unless you wish for this to end quickly.”
You wanted to speak but couldn’t seem to form words as he fulfilled his promise of fucking you into oblivion. Whimpering with every thrust left you sounding broken, used, and yet you found no complaint at the violent shake in your thighs. He was so thick, he reached places in your cunt that no man, finger, or toy had ever reached before.
You ached for more and more and more.
You hadn’t realized that your nails were clawing at his chest until you saw the angry red stripes trailing down his chest. Leaning back, you placed your hands on his shins, angling your cunt towards him as you fell into a grind — a position that bared your stretched heat to him like a sign of submission.
This is yours, your movements said as you dragged your hips up and down, angling your face towards the ceiling. Yours to own. To mark. To bruise and stretch for no other man.
A low chuckle tore you out of your concentration.
“Is it now?”
Oh fuck. You said that aloud.
Before you could catch the look of challenge across his face, his hand suddenly wrapped around your throat and you were flipped onto your back. Positioning himself between your legs, he wasted no time aligning his head with your opening and with one thrust, pierced your cunt. He pounded you into the mattress with a focused expression — furrowed forehead, mouth open to suck in sharp breaths. You were a blubbering mess, whimpering a blend of words and wails and breathy cries of his name. He fucked you like you were a lifeline — hard and fast and relentless, enough to make your moans turn into sobs.
“Just like that, princess,” he grunted in between each thrust, past the sound of his hips slapping against your own. “Squeeze just like that — fuck, that’s a good girl, split open like this around my cock…”
You rolled your eyes back at his praise, buzzing with brewing pleasure. He drove into you with long, steady strokes while you clawed at his shoulders and back, leaving your own special brand in his skin. The thought of marking him left you soaking around his cock, drawing gasps from your lips and his.
“Boba… give…give me…”
You couldn’t form the right words. In your mind, the desire to be filled with his cum was enough to make you salivate, but you couldn’t get the words out. It felt too good. Too much for you to think straight, let alone beg him to properly fill you.
“What was that?” He crooned, slowing down his strokes yet maintaining the same brutal force. Each thrust sent a shock through your body, reducing you into a gasping mess. “Speak up, little minx. I can’t hear you.”
“Come… inside… of me…”
He squeezed your hip with one hand, the other forcing your mouth open. He slid two fingers inside, forcing it to stay open, salivating as he pressed down on your tongue. You were made a mess in every way, drooling around his fingers and gasping with each slow grind of his cock.
You could only cry out as his pace suddenly sped up and he was barreling into you, cock throbbing inside of your pulsating walls like butterfly kisses against the precious little spot that made you lean against him.
“Little one,” he growled between his own gulps of air. “Say that again and I’ll fill you with so much cum, you will surely be carrying the heir to my throne.”
Oddly enough, the thought of having a belly swollen with Boba’s child wasn’t terrible. You had no intention of having children, but the vision of a pregnant belly was still enough to make you beg louder.
“Please, please, please,” was all you could manage and the more you begged, the tighter you clenched around his thick girth. Your last orgasm may have been astronomical but this one, brought on by the oversensitive clit that throbbed with each press of his adonis; the fucking brutal pace that pummeled you into the mattress; the hand on your hip that clenched and squeezed and fondled your flesh; the fingers that pressed against your tongue; the drool running down the sides of your cheeks and chin with each high-pitched whine… it was all enough to make you melt.
You sobbed from the force of your orgasm, tears springing in your eyes from the pure bliss that shuddered through every muscle, tightening every tendon, curling your toes. Nails digging into his back, you rocked your head back into the mattress while Boba pulled his fingertips from your mouth, lowering his lips to your throat, biting and nibbling and sucking as if trying to drive you to the brink of madness from overstimulation.
The pure rawness of your pleasure drove him to his peace and his already thick cock seemed to swell just enough to make your eyes roll back. He bit down on your shoulder as he groaned deeply, spilling inside of you with a few shaking thrusts. With a final slam, a last clap that echoed louder than your moans, he burrowed his entire length inside of your pulsing cunt and stayed there, filling you until your mingled spent trickled down your ass, shamelessly wetting the mattress.
Legs trembling, you found the strength to wrap them around his waist, forcing him even deeper into you as he fell atop you with a winded exhale. You weakly laughed, squished yet comfortable under his chest, and while you both fought to catch your breaths, you locked eyes and shared the smile of two fucked-out lovers.
Boba shifted to his side and with his softening shaft still inside of you, you followed, curling into his chest while your thigh rose up his leg. You pressed your forehead against his sweaty pectoral, eyes fluttering shut when his fingers wove through your hair, gently massaging your scalp. He pressed his lips against your forehead, unbothered by the sweat or stench of sex that clung to your skin. In fact, he lingered, inhaling deeply before exhaling a sigh.
The two of you fell into a comfortable silence as you laid bare against one another. The skin to skin contact felt just about as fulfilling as his declaration of love, leaving you swaddled in comforting warmth and blissful satisfaction. Humming at the feeling of his fingers against your scalp, you arched your chin and caught the thoughtful expression on his face as he stared off at the balcony.
The sun had long-since set, leaving behind a navy sky with twinkling diamond stars. A cool breeze sifted into the room, drawing goosebumps along your heated skin. Boba’s eyes shut at the pleasant feeling before opening and flitting down to yours.
He smiled softly as he cupped the side of your face with a warm palm, thumb swiping underneath your eye to wipe away a streak of smeared makeup. Angling your face towards him, he bowed to place a delicate kiss to your lips.
“Will you stay?”
Should you choose to leave, I will not stop you… but know that I will mourn your absence like the Dune Sea mourns its waters.
You gave him a heartfelt smile and nodded, pressing another firm kiss to his lips.
If you're not treated right, your first response should not be "let me prove how valuable I actually am, they just don't see it yet". That mindset is toxic and you're going about it the wrong way. Instead, your response should be "they don't see my value, that's on them. Clearly, we don't resonate. I have nothing to prove. Time to replace them with something/someone who does". Your response should be walking away from anything that is not nourishing your spirit.
thinking about what a wild 24hrs bo katan has had. like, it’s #sadgirlhours when the shiny guy who accidentally stole the dark saber from her and is inadvertently responsible for the aforementioned #sadgirlhours waltzes into her house with his green wizard baby and is like, hi, i took off my helmet and people saw my big, beautiful brown eyes so now i must bathe in ~special water~ or else i won’t ever be allowed to go to family reunions again. and she’s like, ugh. fine. whatever. and she thinks that’s it, but then his ship shows up again, so she can’t even continue sulking on her throne and listening to all by myself (max rebo version) in peace, and right when she’s about to tell din off for interrupting her depression era, it’s revealed that his space hot rod is actually being driven by a droid with anxiety issues and a baby. and bo katan is ABSOLUTELY not becoming a parent rn, thank you very much, so she has to go get baby his dad back, trust said baby - who does not talk - to guide her through the creepy ruins of her ravaged home while fighting off various aliens and droids popping out at her like she’s in a video game, and save damsel-in-distress din djarin from being roasted like a rotisserie chicken. THEN this guy still insists that he must bathe and be redeemed, so bo’s like, i might as well go with you to save myself a trip back because i KNOW you’re going to need my help again. which he does. and she doesn’t even get to see any mando beefcake for her troubles, because this guy insists on going swimming in full body armor, BUT she does see a mandalorian cryptid, which was definitely not supposed to even EXIST, so there’s that. mind blown. and then a bunch of idiots she stole from blow up her castle. and she accidentally joins a cult. bo katan and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO HATES THAT THIS IS A GOOFY PHONE GAME AD INSTEAD OF BEING A FULL, FEATURE-LENGTH FILM OR SERIES WITH PEDRO AS DETECTIVE TIM ROCKFORD?!?!
arguing with din djarin is worse than arguing w a brick wall because at least a brick wall can’t shoot you. the only reason he rolled up to the armorer’s lair was to tell her he was going to prove her wrong. ‘redemption is no longer possible’ mando, who already did his research ‘actually……… it is. and here’s proof <3′ and then the whole mess with IG-11. greef was like my dude we have hundreds of droids. ‘no I want that one.’ that one blew itself up. ‘that’s the only one I want’. that one just tried to kill u ‘someone can fix him’ these mechanics say its impossible ‘he is my FRIEND and he WILL be fixed’. and then he just stares at u judging in silence until u crack. he’s such a bastard I love him
Warnings: Smut. Consensual non-consensual role play. Handcuffs. Language.
WC:1.2k
Follow on from this.
Dressing Down
The farm was eerie in the moonlight. Before the outbreak, you had just been old enough to get into scary movies. It was strange that despite all the things you had gone through. All the horrific things you had witnessed. Those same horror cliches still chilled you. The full moon, the abandoned barn, the high grass. They all added to the fear shooting up your spine.
With years of muscle memory behind you, you easily made it to a good hiding spot. Low and slow, listening out for any tell tale sounds. All you had to do was make it the rest of the way to the house and you'd be safe.
From your vantage point, the coast was clear. There were a few places you could hide to cross the forty feet between you and the porch. Even in the brightness of the full moon, the crates should give you enough cover to evade him. The ground was soft under your feet, luckily it wasn't dry enough to make too much noise.
With fifteen feet behind you, you took a good look around, still no sign of him. Another ten down, still quiet. With fifteen to go you threw caution to the wind. Pushing off from your hiding place you launched yourself into a sprint. With less than ten to go you saw the glimmer of moonlight on metal coming from your right. Sliding to a halt, you dug your heels in before spinning on them. As quick as you were, you still lost valuable time. Time that allowed him to get within reach. His hand came up to your shoulder, only to come away with a piece of your flimsy outfit as your feet finally got traction. Adrenaline surged through you as you surged for the tractor.
The helmet reduced his field of vision significantly. Disappearing behind the tractor would give you enough cover to lose him. Just as you reached past the back wheel, he caught you. One large gloved hand shoved between your shoulder blades, slamming you forward on the seat. His hips pressed against your ass to further pin you as his hands pushed your shoulders down.
"You shouldn't have run. All you did was piss me off." Hunter growled as he held you down. "I have to think of a plan for what to do with you but I can't think straight while I'm all worked up."
Thick, gloved fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs before trailing up the inside.
"I wonder what I could do to clear my head." He asked, voice dangerously low and thick with arousal.
Two figures sliding in you from behind told you he had an idea.
"Fuck. Joel." You groaned, nails clawing at the tractor seat beneath your chest.
His free hand came up to squeeze your throat. "What did you call me?"
"Sorry. I mean, Hunter." You tried to back track.
"You've forgotten my name. That won't do. How about I make you say it so many times that it stays in your head?" His fingers curled up inside you, bringing you up to your toes as he pushed deeper. "Jo..Hunter!" Your back arched as you called his name.
"That's more like it." The cocky grin was clear in his voice.
Taking advantage of his moment of hubris, as he pulled his fingers back out you managed to push him off before sprinting for the barn.
The hayloft was your best chance, there was a ladder propped up outside against the window that you could escape down. If you could get up there. The older wooden ladder creaked in protest as you made it about six runs up before Joel's arm came around your waist, snatching you from the ladder and launching you into the nearby stack of hay. The impact wasn't hard but it was enough to wind you slightly, giving him enough time to pin you with his body once more.
"I better give you a reason to stay inside." With that the barely there cosplay was ripped from your body leaving you naked. "Wouldn't want anyone catching a glimpse of you like this or…" He tutted "...seeing how wet this has you. Has the thought of me taking what I want from you got you this worked up? You nasty little whore." The rough material of his gloves dragged across your nipples as he palmed your breasts, squeezing them harshly. You bit back the moan that threatened to escape. One of his hands left you to adjust the bulge in his flight suit. The moment of relief it brought him proved distracting enough for you to put the hand on you into a hold. The threat of pain if he moved against it, was enough to move him out of your way and give you a small head start. It was enough to get you out of the barn but all too soon you were face down in the dirt with Joel straddling your ass.
"Staying fucking still!" He had a fistful of your hair as he tried to grab your hands. Both of them were clawing at the dirt, trying to get purchase to pull yourself out from underneath him. One by one, he caught them, bending your arm behind your back, he shuffled forward to pin them between your body and his strong thighs.
"Guess I'll be needing these." Before you could work out what he was talking about, he was securing your hands with handcuffs.
The whole hunter/prey, consensual non-consensual thing, you had talked about, Joel never mentioned handcuffs.
"You remember your safe word, Baby?" Joel softly stroked your back as he spoke. It sent little sparks of pleasure up your spine. They cause you to moan out your answer.
"Good." He climbed off you, positioning himself between your legs, he pulled your hips up. Your arms were behind your back, your tits were pressed to the ground along with your parted knees and your ass was in the air, your dripping pussy on display for him. "Fuck. How did an old man like me get so lucky?" Joel marvelled.
"Hunter is younger than me." You teased.
"Right." He chuckled. "No pressure but if you did move in with me, Hunter could fuck you more often."
"Or I could stay where I am and Hunter, or you, will fuck me as often as I like because you can't stay away from this tight little cunt." You were goading him now, this wasn't the time for feelings, you needed him to pound you into the ground.
"So that's how you see it? Are you sure it's not you that can't keep away from my big, fat dick? Hmm? Biggest I've even taken, Joel. I can always feel you so deep. You stretch me so good. I love how you fuck me so hard." He mocked.
"I can stay away from you longer than you can from me. I think I'll start now…" you lifted your shoulders from the floor.
"No, you fucking don't." He pushed your back down, he hand stayed on your back as the other freed himself from his suit and lined up with your entrance. "You're going to stay here and fucking take it." He filled you completely on the first thrust.
Your nails scraped up more dirt as you adjusted to the sudden stretch. Any noise you would have made caught in your throat along with your breath. He really was big. Size didn't matter to you, there was still skill needed to get you off. You still couldn't decide if it was lucky or unlucky for you that Joel had both. The man could have your eyes rolling back and your toes curling in minutes.
"See how well you take me? You want it so fucking bad." He pulled his hips all the way back before slamming back home. Long, drawn out, sharp thrust landing perfectly where you needed them.
For a while all you could think about was the weight of his cock between your legs until you managed to spit back. "No, I don't. Stop."
Even though you had talked about this thoroughly Joel still stopped dead instantly.
"Is this still part of it?" He muttered closer to your ear.
"Yeah." You blushed. "If it's okay with you."
"I want to make you happy but is it okay if Hunter does this part?" He squeezed your hips gently as he spoke. His thumbs traced circles on your soft skin.
When you voiced your consent, his grip on you turned hard. "Fuck. That's it. Take it. This little cunt can't get enough of me. So tight around me. I might keep your for myself, fuck the reward." His pace picked up. Every jolt of his hips shoved you into the ground. Your body was soft and pliable for him. You were just like a disposable toy for him, as if he was just using you to jerk himself off. Heaven help you, you loved every minute. Joel was becoming near feral at the sight of him disappearing into your wet heat.
"Fuck. I can't…" He pulled out of you. The helmet was tossed across the yard, you were rolled onto you back. The position had your arm feeling uncomfortable until Joel lifted your hips clear off the ground. He slid back inside you. "...that's better. You can look at me all you like because you are mine. And I can see that pretty face acting like you don't want to come around my cock. I know you do. I can feel you fluttering around me. You pathetic little bitch, you couldn't not come even if you wanted to."
"You'd get off either way, you bastard." You spat.
"Yeah, I fucking would in this hot little hole. Want you to gush all over me though." The shock of his spit hitting your pussy almost pushed you over the edge. His thumb stroked your clit as his cock hit something special inside. The build up of pleasure was like nothing you'd felt before. Maybe it was the adrenaline from running from him or the weird mix of shame and satisfaction of fulfilling two of your fantasies. Either way the orgasm that hit you was something else. It was as if a dam broke. Everything flooded you. The ecstasy of your release. The happy chemicals of your brain. Your emotions. After decades of being on your guard, having someone you could trust to be completely vulnerable with was overwhelming. Your release flooded you, literally, you'd never squirted before now you were dripping over the two of you.
Joel was barely able to pull out before spilling onto the dirt below you. "Fuck, Baby. Remind me to keep this suit. After I clean it." He was looking at the wet patch over his crotch and thighs.
A tremble set under your skin. Joel notice and wrapped his arms around you. "Cold?" He undid the cuffs as you answered.
"No, adrenaline, maybe? I think. That was…." A smile spread across your face.
A matching one crept across Joel's. "Yeah it was."
"I'd say let's get you inside before someone sees you but I doubt you'd care." Joel teased as rubbed the goose flesh from your arms.
"Nope. I wouldn't care who saw us like this. Maybe some of those women circling you like vultures will get the message."
"Do I detect a hint of jealousy?"
"Hardly. You know where you have it best. You on the other hand. If I walked down the main street of Jackson like this you'd be ready to brawl with everyone that looked my way."
"Honey, I'm ready to do that when you are fully clothed. I damn near ripped Tommy's head off when he looked twice at you wearing a dress at Maria's birthday."
"What? Tommy was looking my way? Maybe I can trade you in for a younger model?"
"Don't even joke."
The banter had given you enough time to rise to your feet. "Hey, Joel? Is our bet still on?"
Before he could answer you bolted, as best you could while trying to bare chest some support, up to the porch and to the safety of the house. "I won!"
"No, I tagged you before you got to the house."
"No, you fucked me before I got to the house. Not once did you say tag."
"It was implied."
"Nope. I won."
"Fine. You won. I won't ask you to move in with me again."
"Not even once?"
"Not even once."
"That's a shame. I might have said yes this time."
"Is that so?"
"Maybe. If we have some ground rules."
"I'm listening."
"One, no interfering with my patrols. I can make my own decisions and threaten people myself, if I need to."
"Fair enough. You know it's only because I care, right?"
"Yes, that's the only reason I've allowed it this long."
"What's two?"
"Hunter gets pulled out of the closet once in a while."
"I could get on board with that. Maybe you could dress up for me once in a while too?"
Everybody talks about cutting ppl off but nobody really talks about the grief that comes with having to stand firm on that decision knowing it’s not what you wanted but what was necessary for your well-being.
turnnoffyourmind
jacobvanloon
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