#This is what I look like irl. Let me know in the notes if y’all want a real face/voice/age reveal.

[daimyosprincess]

WORTH THE RISK

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

—SUMMARY: Pushing your luck has its rewards.

—WORD COUNT: 10.8k

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

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

Please let me know if I missed anything!

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

Read on AO3 — Masterlist — Taglist

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

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

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

<boba 🖤🧸🧋: Better give me those panties now, princess>

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

<boba 🖤🧸🧋: I’m not going to ask twice>

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

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

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

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

<Or what? You can’t do shit with all these people around, old man>

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

<All yours 😘> 1 image attached

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

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

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

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

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

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

Boba snorts. “Speaking of consequences…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So you’re just a naughty brat then?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No thigh to get off on?”

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

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

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

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

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

Boba curses, his hips bucking into yours.

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

“Princess-”

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, you’re… you’re…”

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

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

“So, apology accepted?”

“One.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Two.”

“Okay, okay! I’m going!”

“Three.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, baby?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shake your head. 

“No talking and no hands, understood?” 

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

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

Thank the Maker for that towel.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Swallow.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maker, you’re a buzzkill. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Princess, it’s okay, I-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s worth the risk.  

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

[dixonsdolls]

CLOSER | DARYL DIXON

SYNOPSIS ❥ On the road, you can’t seem to focus on anything other than wanting Daryl to fuck you senseless. Because he’s such a good boyfriend, you get what you want.

Pairing ❥ Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Content warnings ❥ 18+ content (MDNI), porn without plot, creampie, unprotected p in v, oral (daryl receiving!), dirty talk, car sex, basically reader being feral (like we all are)

Word Count ❥ 2.3k

A/N ❥ hi my loves!! long time no see, i know </3 been busy with stuff irl but i wanted to get this piece out for you all as a thank you for hitting 100 followers! it means the world to me <3 hope y’all enjoy this, im squeezing my legs as we speak bc whew. and also, the picture is purely there to generate imagery, there are no descriptions of the reader! xoxo, sammy

— ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆

“You let me violate you

You let me desecrate you

You let me penetrate you

You let me complicate you

…

I wanna fuck you like an animal

I wanna feel you from the inside

I wanna fuck you like an animal”

Closer by Nine Inch Nails

— ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

“What?”

His gruff voice spooked you from your lustful haze, where you’d been glancing over at Daryl every couple seconds. You shook your head in a fruitless attempt to clear your sinful thoughts, before meeting his eyes.

“Hmm?” You spoke softly, it was all you could do in your state. Oh, how you wanted him to pull over and let you have your way with him.

“Been starin’ at me since we got in the car. Do I got somethin’ on my face or what?” Daryl sounded annoyed, but you knew him better to just be deeply confused by your actions. You couldn’t exactly blame him, it’d been over twenty minutes and you’d barely spoken since you both had left for a supply run.

But you couldn’t help it. With your panties soaked, slit slippery and clit throbbing in neglect, you were desperately trying to act normal.

Clearly, you’d failed.

It was Daryl’s fault; you’d been fine until you saw him leant against a porch pillar, lighting up a cigarette. You couldn’t explain it because you’d seen him smoke before, but something about the way he looked then had your thighs squeezing, breath catching.

He was busy talking to Rick, blowing smoke as he spoke intently. His arms were bulging, muscles on full display as they moved to further prove his words. The vest did nothing to offer cover and with his pretty lips wrapped around the cigarette, you felt faint. His brown locks were shaggy, covering his eyes in a way that made you wanna tug them as you kissed.

Simply put, you’d wanted him to ruin you.

“No, baby. Jus’ look pretty today is all.” You sighed, now staring at him shamelessly as you leant against the car door to have him in your full view.

“Pretty?!” Daryl scoffed, affronted at the very suggestion. Even so, his ears heated up and his cheeks tinged the slightest shade of pink. “Can’ say I've heard that one before.”

“You are,” You promised, voice filled to the brim with adoration for him because yeah, your archer was fuckin’ pretty and deserved to be told. “Look super handsome today.”

“Shut up.” His gruff voice sounded, rolling his eyes at you as you’d made him flush again.

“I’m serious! Got me all flustered, ever since this mornin’!” You huffed, voice whiny and light, throwing your head back against the window for relief on your heated skin.

With your admission, he averted his gaze from the road to you, silently groaning at your blown out pupils, the pink flush dancing across your cheeks and down your chest.

Jesus, you were serious. How the fuck was he supposed to continue on driving when he had his girl next to him, needy for him?

“Fuck.” He spoke, noting that you had now taken your seatbelt off and were shuffling closer to him. “What’re you doin?”

You’d opted to take an old pickup truck and there wasn’t any middle console, just a continuation of the bench. For what you had in mind, you silently thanked whoever came up with that design.

“Pull over, Daryl.” With a breathy voice, you pressed a wet kiss onto his neck. Hearing a hitch in his breath, you licked up his neck until you reached his scruffy cheek, moaning as you did so. “Please, need you so bad.”

The car jerked suddenly as you palmed his strong thigh, teeth nibbling on his earlobe. He felt himself harden in his pants at the feel of your dainty hands touching him, of your plushy lips soothing the sting your teeth had left behind.

“Can’t, sunshine. It’s not safe to be sittin’ in the road bein’ distracted.” He spoke with regret, especially as your hand palmed his dick over the material. He wanted you safe though, and he wasn’t lying when he thought it was dangerous to pull over in the middle of nowhere. “Just wait til we get— fuck.”

His words muddled into a string of curses, car wobbling again as you’d released him before pulling his cock from his pants, zipper undone.

“Wanna suck you off.”

And shit, with the way you were looking at him, with the way you wet your lips as you looked at his dick, he wanted to stuff your mouth full.

“Dammit, you’re such a fuckin’ brat.” You bent down, level with his crotch as you gawked at his exposed dick, precum now bubbling at the tip.

You licked your lips at the sight of white, pearly beads and before he could process it, his engorged tip was in the warm confines of your mouth, suckling soft and slow.

“Cant ever behave, can you? Jesus, baby.” He looked down at you, grunting as your eyes met his just as you swirled your tongue over him, dipping into his drippy slit. You hummed at the salty flavor of him, giving a few more sucks to his tip, before releasing it with a ‘pop’, a string of saliva connecting your puffy lips to him.

You’d only stopped because you noticed he’d let off the gas, the car barely even moving down the deserted street.

“Drive.” You demanded, gripping his base and jerking at a teasingly slow pace, eyes piercing his pretty blue ones. You leaned in to his face, licking his bottom lip before sucking the soft skin into your mouth. Daryl was so unbelievably turned on from your behavior that your voice barely registered. You released his lip, planting a wet kiss onto him before looking at him again. “Drive the car, or I’m stopping. It’s not safe to stop, remember?”

And from the snarl that appeared on his spit-slick mouth, you knew you’d pay for saying that.

“Nah, I can’t focus when your mouth is o—“

“Drive.”

Your command surged him into action, partially because your bratty attitude was making him throb and partially because he needed his dick down your throat, now.

The engine roared as he pressed down on the gas. Then, he gripped your hair tightly, scalp tingling as he made you look at him.

“Suck.” When you made no move, because you’d been too fucking entranced by how hot Daryl was, especially as he yanked your hair roughly, he grunted. “Now, your pissin’ me off with your little fuckin’ angel eyes.”

His words, along with his grip on your hair, had you parting your lips and sucking him down.

The car was filled with the filthy noises your mouth made as you switched between licking him from base to tip and then wrapping swollen lips around him. His taste was overwhelming your senses and your cunt ached to be filled. The rumble of the car kept jiggling your body and you gagged around him as you slid lower onto him.

Tears pooled your lash line but instead of letting up, you bobbed your head up and down to hear more of his groans. The only time Daryl was truly vocal was when you sucked him off and shit, if it didn’t make you wet.

You snuck a hand around to pet your pussy, the throb becoming too much to ignore, when Daryl suddenly pulled you off him. And the sight of you had him bucking into the air; a mix of spit and his precum coated your lips, your eyes wet from crying on his cock, hair messy around your face.

You looked so pretty like this, all cock-drunk.

“Don’t get to touch yourself, not with your fuckin’ attitude.” His tone was so gravely, so assertive that instead of being annoyed, you whimpered. “Now, get your pants off and c’mere.”

It was only then you’d noticed that he’d stopped the car, trees surrounded the vehicle as nothing was in sight for miles.

Your demanding act was far gone; you needed Daryl inside you.

Without another thought, you clambered from your kneeling spot and wiggled out of your pants as best as you could, though your movements were jittery as Daryl watched you the entire time, eyes nearly black with need.

Finally free, you swung yourself onto his lap and moaned loudly; his cock, hard and still coated in your spit, rubbed at your thinly covered cunt as you sat atop him. The buckle of his pants was cold and you jolted as its coolness hit your puffy clit.

“Fuck, Daryl.” You gripped his long strands, yanking as you humped him. The sight of you all whiny and pathetic for him made him grunt lowly before catching your parted lips in a kiss. “Mmph.”

Immediately, the kiss was obscene. Daryl rubbed his tongue with yours, swallowing your whines as the muscles danced with one another. Spit was pooling at the corner of your mouth and as he pulled away, a string of saliva connected you both.

Breathing heavily, Daryl reached between you both and pulled your underwear to the side, swearing as he did so.

“So fuckin’ wet, honey. All this for me?” His eyes flickered across your face as you stared back, lust drenching your features as you huffed.

“All for you,” you gasped, lips bumping his and fingers pulling his hair. His fingers found your entrance, marveling at how fucking soaked you were. Daryl leaned into you, capturing your mouth with his as you whimpered into him as he shoved two fingers in at once.

For a bit, thats all it was and it was a fucking sight. You, clinging to Daryl as you greedily kissed him, moans spilling from you as his fingers filled you. Him, fucking you with one hand whilst the other gripped your ass harshly, pulling the flesh as he rocked you against his fingers inside you.

You would’ve come like that, if he hadn’t then removed them just as your orgasm tickled your gut.

“What the fu—“ you were cut off by Daryl as he shoved his fingers, the ones that were just inside you and therefore covered in slick, inside your parted mouth.

“Shh, thats it.” He marveled as you sucked and cleaned his fingers like the good girl he knew you were.

Pulling them from your lips, he dragged the wetness across your cheek before crashing his lips to yours. You both made noises because the musky and sweetness of you lingered on your tongue. With your taste coating his tastebuds, he snapped.

Daryl parted from you before one hand gripped you and the other grabbed his cock, moving until you were sinking down onto him.

Your cries mingled with his groans; your tight, wet heat sucked him down and finally, he was inside you and filling you up, just like you’d wanted.

“Fuck, Daryl.” You whined, hips swiveling to get used to his size. You were torn between the relief of being filled to the brim and the discomfort because of how big he was.

“This what you wanted, huh? Just so fuckin’ needy you had to stop us in the fuckin’ road?” He grunted, a calloused hand coming to grip your throat, the tightness steadying you. “My filthy girl.”

Then, he thrusted up into you and the sound you made was like a symphony of music to his ears. Spurred on, he kept thrusting into your pussy, groaning at the wet, slippery sounds filling the car. You were so overwhelmed with pleasure and the feel of him that you just clung to him, rolling your hips and humping your clit against him as you took each thrust he gave you.

Though, one particular move was so fucking deep it had you mewl, fingernails digging into the soft skin of Daryl’s neck.

“Daryl,” you gasped, euphoria pumping through every crevice of your body. The buckle of his belt was now slick as your clit continued to hump. “So big— uh, uh— so big.”

His hand gripped your throat firmly, fastening his pace as helped you move with him by lifting your ass in tandem with his hips.

You were a mess; blubbering nonsense to him as your cunt repeatedly clenched down on him as you grew closer to your peak. Daryl was so high on you, your pretty sounds, and suddenly, he needed to see more of your skin.

He removed his grip from your ass to yank your shirt up and he let out a grunt as he saw your absence of a bra. Then, without any other preamble, his lips wrapped around a peaked nipple, sucking wetly.

The mix of his mouth making out with your chest and his cock filling you up at such a haste pace had you crying out, tears spilling down your cheeks as you shuddered on his lap.

Your orgasm had triggered his own; the feel of your sopping pussy squeezing him and your cry of pleasure sent him over the edge.

His moans were animalistic as he filled you to the brim, thrusts losing their rhythm as he pumped his spend into you.

“Daryl—“ you whispered, suddenly exhausted and wanting him closer to you, despite your limbs being intertwined with one another tightly. “Baby.”

“Such a good girl,” he spoke into your neck, making no move to remove his softening cock from you. Even if he did try, you wouldn’t let him. The crazed feeling you’d felt was finally soothed, his cock inside you released relief throughout your body.

Daryl brought a finger between your thighs and his cock twitched inside you as he collected both your orgasms. “Open.”

Because you’d do anything he told you, you wordlessly opened your mouth and moaned as he stuck come covered fingers between your lips. He watched you as you sucked his fingers clean, eyes hooded with tiredness.

“C’mon, gotta get home.” He patted your waist, adoration swirling in his chest as you made no move to return to your seat. In fact, you just scooted closer until your nose grazed his sweaty neck.

“Thought we needed to get stuff.”

“Nah, we’ll just say we couldn’ find anythin’” Daryl brought a hand to your hair, gently brushing your head as you pressed kisses to his collarbone.

You both stayed connected for awhile; maybe two minutes, maybe two hours. Being close with Daryl was exactly what you’d needed to feel a little less feral.

Though, as you both finally rolled through the gates with messy hair and flushed faces, everyone looked at you both knowingly.

#daryl fanfiction #daryl dixion x reader #daryl x y/n #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixion imagine #daryl imagines #the walking dead #daryl x reader #norman reedus #daryl dixon

[munsonslove]

Hi! I love you writing and I was wondering if you could write a fic we’re Eddie and the reader kinda have like a frenemies vibe going on and then one day they sleep together but Eddie has no idea the reader is a virgin because of people saying stories about her and then they sleep together and he finds out after they did it??

Can I Kiss You?

(18+ only)

a/n: thanks so much for the request, & thank you everyone for 1k followers!!! i’m so happy people are liking my little stories <3 a few notes: reader is dustin’s older sister in this fic, but i make it a point to say that she was adopted, so you can def read this as not white reader still. i also briefly mention the reader’s birth parents passing away when she was very young, so tw for family death. and there’s a part where it’s said that the reader’s last name isn’t henderson (because she kept her original surname after being adopted) so if anyone’s reading this and your irl last name is henderson… just like pretend it’s not for a sec? oh also i hid a taylor swift lyric in here. first person to find it wins! anyways i hope y’all like it!!

summary: Your little brother's annoying DM is always hanging around and trying to bother you. Embarrassingly, you developed a crush on him, you were just too proud to do anything about it.

wordcount: 7.3k

tags/warnings: fem!virgin!reader (18+ and a high school graduate), also adopted!henderson!reader, slight mention of family death, fluff, smut, friends/frenemies to lovers, praise kink, fingering (f receiving), descriptions of masturbation (both f and m receiving), use of pet names (baby, princess), unprotected p in v penetration (she’s on the pill, use condoms irl of course), no use of y/n

“He’s not here,” you deadpan with a roll of your eyes as you open the front door. You weren’t expecting any visitors, so when you heard knocking you were quick to find a makeshift weapon before seeing who it was. Your paranoia diminished when you saw it was merely your little brother's DM.

“I’d be tempted to say ‘how do you know I’m not here to see you?’, but that lamp in your hands has me second guessing myself,” Eddie replies with a laugh, pushing past you to enter your home without permission. “You gonna attack me, princess? Didn’t know you found me that annoying.”

“I’m a young woman home alone, and a lot of really strange things happen in this town,” you explain, setting the lamp back down on the end table. “Sue me for being defensive.”

He shakes off his backpack and tosses on the floor. “Better safe than sorry I guess,” he agrees, though you can hear his amused smirk in his tone. “Why you home alone? Your mom got a hot date or something?”

“Book club,” you correct him while crossing your arms, “And Dustin’s sleeping over at the Wheeler’s.”

Eddie hums in response, licking his lips as he looks you up and down. “Cute pajamas,” he says, winking at you.

At his comment, you realize with a start that your robe had fallen open, and crossing your arms only accentuated the suggestive low cut of your silk nightie. Quickly scrambling to cover yourself and retie the knot, you frustratedly grumble, “What are you even doing here? Dustin didn’t say anything about you coming over.”

He flops down on the couch, kicking his feet up on the coffee table and settling into the well-worn cushions, making himself at home. “He talked me into letting him DM for a campaign, so I thought I’d stop by with my copy of the Dungeon Master’s Guide. He was bitching about only having the Player’s Handbook and Monster Manual, so…” he trails off with a shrug as he leans forward to snatch the remote to the TV from next to his boot.

“Get your dirty shoes off of my mother’s clean furniture,” you scold before physically grabbing his ankles and forcing his feet to the floor. “Can you at least pretend to have manners?”

“I could try, but then you wouldn’t have a crush on me anymore,” he laughs, then hooks one of his fingers into the belt of your robe, pulling you down to be seated next to him. He rests his arm on the back of the couch behind your shoulders, not reacting when you retort with a curt ‘In your dreams.’

You know that logistically you could make him leave- this was your home, after all- but the possibility of him actually going without protest was very low. It seemed like Eddie’s favorite thing in the world was annoying you, and sometimes you find yourself missing the days back when he barely acknowledged your existence. He was originally two years ahead of you in school, but due to him being held back twice he ended up being a part of your graduating class. You didn’t run in the same crowd, in fact you couldn’t have been further out of each other’s social spheres. You were quite popular, invited to many parties, even won prom queen your senior year. Eddie, on the other hand, only showed up at parties to sell drugs, and didn’t attend prom for any of his senior years. 

When your little brother entered high school, you worried about him being bullied. You were aware that most of the school’s population were under the impression that Dungeon and Dragons was a devil worshiping cult, and the Hellfire club along with it. Having been exposed to the game for so long thanks to Dustin’s nerdy interests, you knew better than what the propaganda surrounding D&D tried to peddle to the public, but you held concerns that your status-obsessed ‘friends’ wouldn’t be so easily convinced otherwise. Popularity was never something you sought out, it just came naturally to you, and while it was nice always having weekend plans there was no way in hell you were going to let anyone give your baby brother and his friends any shit. If sticking up for your family made the ‘cool kids’ at school not want to have you in their clique, then that was fine by you. To your surprise, everyone seemed to get the message loud and clear that Dustin and his band of misfits were off limits bullying-wise, and you were able to stay relatively well liked by your peers.

The first time you stood up for Dustin, it was a few weeks into his freshman year in the hallway before first period. One of the guys from the basketball team was giving him a hard time, and you marched right up to the meathead jock and shoved him away. You made sure to get your point across that if you ever saw him fucking with your brother again that you weren’t afraid to fight back. The opposing boy cowered away, not expecting one of the most popular girls at Hawkins to so adamantly defend who he considered a ‘nerd’. Word traveled fast, and by lunchtime the hottest gossip was how you sucker-punched Damian Smith square in the jaw outside of Mrs. Hackett’s classroom this morning. It wasn’t true by a long shot, but you found it rather amusing how much the story got twisted when there were so many witnesses. That day was also the first time you spoke to Eddie.

He had cornered you in the cafeteria, and was attempting to use his ‘bad boy, outcast’ demeanor to intimidate you into leaving Dustin alone. Some of the cheerleaders got the attention of their boyfriends, and pretty soon a group had gathered to see why someone at the bottom of the food chain was messing with you. You called them off with a wave of your hand, then took Eddie’s arm to drag him out into the hall and figure out what the hell he was talking about. He clearly had the wrong idea, because he was telling you off about ‘pretending to stand up for the nerdy freshmen’ and how he ‘knew this was part of some elaborate prank’.

He had no idea you were Dustin’s sister. It made sense, you didn’t look all that similar and you didn’t even share a last name. Your biological parents were family friends of the Hendersons, and they died when you were fairly young. You were legally adopted by your godmother, and were raised as a member of the family. Most everyone who you’ve told has tried to console you after learning the truth, and while it is sad that you didn’t get to grow up with your birth mother and father, you know you were lucky to be a Henderson (by love, not by name). Family is family, even if there’s no blood relation, and that’s exactly what you told Eddie. You let him know that he could accuse you of being one of those airheads whose main concern is how many pages of the yearbook they make it on, but that wasn’t going to stop you from beating the shit out of anyone who tried to give your brother a hard time.

With Eddie becoming a close friend of Dustin’s, even somewhat of a role model (much to your dismay), you saw him pretty often. He was always finding excuses to come over, and you suspected it had something to do with his new life mission of bothering you at every waking moment. The two of you didn’t hate each other per se, on the contrary you actually always secretly enjoyed spending time with the metalhead, despite your differences. That being said, your rapport consisted mainly of jestful bantering, constantly trying to have the one-up in the exchange. You both finished high school together, he actually gave you a ride to graduation (not without a snide comment on the length of your dress, prompting a middle finger from you). Now you were taking a gap year before college and he was staying in Hawkins to focus on his music, the plan being to move to Indianapolis when the final member of Corroded Coffin graduated. With the freedom awarded by not attending Hawkins anymore- from both the stressful preparation for another four years of school and the pressure to stick to the status quo- you found yourself spending a lot of downtime with Eddie. You’re not quite sure either of you would readily call the other a friend, but maybe relationship labels were overrated. All you knew was that if Dustin was hitching a ride home, you could count on Eddie’s van being parked in the driveway for at least a couple hours while he berated you inside.

Lately though, the playful bickering between you two morphed into what almost felt like flirting. Eddie seemed to be laying it on thicker and thicker each time he came to see you, as if he was testing the waters for how much he could get away with without you getting upset. What he didn’t know, however, was that you’ve been harboring a secret crush on him for a while now. After actually getting to know him through the excuse of you both caring about Dustin, you came to the realization that he’s not all bad like his reputation.

Eddie switches on the TV, turning it to your favorite channel without asking and setting the remote back down on the table. It’s the little gestures like these that have you falling harder for him everyday. You lose your train of thought getting lost in fantasies of doing exactly this with him, only while being able to call him your boyfriend. You’re ripped back to reality when his arm shifts from the back of the couch to actually over your shoulders. His face doesn’t show any sign that he thinks of this as overly intimate, so you try to not let any reaction show.

Some hours pass this way, and you wonder how long Eddie plans to stay for. You silently pray that your neighbors won’t say anything to your mom about his van parked in the driveway, but even if they do, the tingling you felt in your chest was well worth it- and besides, no matter what she said, you were an adult. Just as you're thinking this, Eddie stands to pick his bag up off of the floor, slipping the books he brought out onto the coffee table, before zipping it back up and holding it awkwardly in his hands.

“I guess I should probably get going,” he says with a shrug, “It’s getting late, and your mom will be home soon.”

“She said they were going to drink wine,” you respond. “You know Claudia, she wouldn’t drive after having even a sip. She’s going to sleep on her friend’s couch.”

“Oh,” he says, his eyes lighting up a little before he purses his lips and looks out the window. “Well, it’s pretty dark out now. I don’t wanna keep you up…”

There’s a brief pocket of silence, neither of you wanting to be the one to suggest what you’re thinking for fear of the other not returning the same feeling. You don’t want your disappointment at the idea of him not staying to be too evident, but you’re not sure how convincing you’re being. Your gaze drops down to his pretty lips, distracted by how he’s biting them, and wishing you could bite them instead. Faintly, so faintly you’re almost unsure if you even really heard it, he speaks your name, bringing your attention back to his eyes. You watch as he gathers the courage for his next words. 

“Can I kiss you?”

It’s like time stops. You resist the urge to squeal like a little girl with a crush, but that is exactly how you feel. Slowly, you nod your head before moving your lips to say, ‘Yes,’ though no sound escapes you. He drops the bag, and kicks it out of the way when it lands at his feet before taking long strides toward you. The both of you lean forward, and he tilts his head slightly to make room for your noses. His breath fans your lips as he hesitates to close the distance. Impatient after months of pining, you grab him by the zipper of his jacket and finally do what you’ve been dreaming about for so long. 

His lips are as soft as they look, and you conclude that your theory about his chapstick addiction is correct. With as much as he smokes (medicinal or otherwise), he must moisturize them pretty often. He actually tastes very faintly of tobacco, and you remember how he said he was trying to quit and only smoked cigarettes when he was jittery. You wonder if that meant that you make him as nervous as he makes you. The dirty taste was thankfully mostly covered up by a strong minty flavor, and that only makes you wonder even more, this time about if he also obsesses over little detail when he knows he’s going to see you. Whenever Dustin would inform you Eddie was on his way over, you would find yourself primping in front of the mirror, making sure your hair fell in place just the right way and your skin was clear of any blemishes. You even did this before you fully understood your feelings for the man were romantic. Picturing him having the afterthought to pop a mint before driving over to see you had you smiling against his lips.

“What?” he laughs, pulling away from you slightly and raising an eyebrow with both curiosity and amusement.

“Nothing,’ you reply, giggling softly. “Just thinking.”

“Oh? What about?” he asks, leaning in once again to peck you chastely before simply resting his forehead against your and gazing into your eyes. He walks you backwards, back to the couch and sits, pulling you down next to him.

You shake your head, still smiling. Your mind was racing a mile a minute and it was too much to explain, especially when the only thing you wanted was for him to kiss you silly. “Not now. Just come here,” you whisper as you thread your fingers through his hair and push yourself flush against him, ending up fully sat in his lap with his hands gripping your thighs.

You two last like this for a while, (mostly) innocently kissing, just enjoying the feeling of finally giving into temptation. Pretty soon, Eddie’s touch begins to roam, and your hips begin to rock. It was very quickly crossing the line from PG-13 to R. When you feel his cock harden beneath you, you make up your mind about what you want to happen.

“Eddie,” you moan while his tongue circles a bite mark he left on your neck, soothing the sting. He dismisses the sound, lost in his own world as his hands find purchase on your butt, assisting your movements against him. “Eddie,” you try again, shaking his shoulders slightly.

He immediately slides his hands up to a more modest area on your waist, and he lifts his head away from your neck to look at you. His pupils are blown wide, and his hair is wild. “Yeah, baby?” he says, sounding out of breath.

“Do you want to go to my room?” you ask. You can tell by the way he glances back down at your lips, then to your thighs, and finally back up to your eyes, that he knows exactly what you are implying.

“A- are you sure?” he forces out, barely believing what he’s hearing.

“I’m sure,” you confirm. “I’m ready.”

You’re both hurrying down the hallway, nearly tripping over each other’s feet in your haste. The walk to your bedroom is short, but after putting off the inevitable for so long, you can barely wait and have to resist jumping his bones before reaching your destination. Throwing open the door, he ushers you inside and shuts it behind him.

Eddie’s heavy leather jacket thuds as it hits the floor, his shirt being discarded soon after. Your mouth waters at the sight of his tattoos, but you barely have time to admire his partial nudity. He’s on top of you in a flash, pressing you into the wall and kissing you passionately. His curious hands rake over your body, and their wandering loosen the knot on your robe’s belt, causing the thick fabric to open slightly and expose your collarbone. Like a man starved, Eddie’s lips never lose contact with you as he rips the tie from your body, almost making you fall with the force behind it. He steadies you with his hands back on your waist, this time underneath the robe, and you can feel his touch so much better with only the thin silk of your nightgown between you. Shrugging the robe off, he helps you pull it down your arms before tossing it onto your carpet, and the cold air of your bedroom is fought off by his body warmth invading every inch of you.

“Do you want this as much as I do?” he whispers gravelly after parting his lips from yours.

He doesn’t need to clarify what exactly he wants, because you want it all with him. “I do,” you confirm.

He leads you over to your bed, a queen-sized four-poster, still unmade from this morning. You climb on top and turn to face him while sitting on your knees. He looms over you, standing at the foot of the bed with you kneeling on the mattress in front of him. His pretty eyes darken as he looks down and takes in your form.

“God, I like you like this,” he laughs from above you, “Is this what I gotta do for you to shut your mouth?”

“You like my mouth” you shoot back, sitting up to reach him and tangling your hands in his curls. You make a fist, thus pulling his hair slightly.

He grunts as you tug on his locks, but doesn’t let the innuendo in your last comment go. “You do have a real nice mouth,” he says as he swipes his thumb against your bottom lip. Before he can retract his hand, you open your mouth and suck the digit into it, swirling your tongue around the tip while looking up at him from behind your eyelashes.

“Fuck, baby,” he brokenly breathes out. 

The only thing you see in his eyes is pure unadulterated lust, and you feel your belly grow warmer at the thought of what he was going to do about it. He withdraws his hand only to place it on your neck, his palm on the front of your windpipe. He’s not applying any pressure, so you can’t call it choking, but just the implication of such a touch has arousal pooling in your underwear. His thumb is warm and wet on your throat, and when he trails his hand from your neck to the back of your head, the breeze of air on the leftover saliva makes your skin feel cool. Eddie drops his head and his lips meet yours once again, but only just barely making contact. You try to deepen the kiss, but he’s returned the favor of holding onto a tuft of your hair, making it impossible to press against him more firmly without your hair being pulled. He laughs at your cries of protest, but gives in, sucking on your bottom lip and nipping at it before licking his tongue past the threshold of your mouth.

Kissing like this isn’t the most comfortable, what with the springs of your mattress digging into your knees and your neck craning up to be able to reach Eddie, but you could stay in this position for hours if it meant he was going to keep touching you the way he was. The hand not tangled and tugging at your hair was sliding up your side, dragging the silk of your nightie up. He bunched the fabric up in a fist, which caused it to be lifted enough that your cotton panties were on display. You briefly worry about whether he was going to think the underwear you had on was sexy or not, considering it wasn’t silky or lacy like your nightgown was. It was just a simple and comfortable pair of navy blue panties with a white elastic waistband. 

While you were busy overthinking, Eddie bent at his knees and kissed down your jaw, releasing your hair to raise the fabric on the other side of your nightie up to the same level, then backed away to pull it the rest of the way up over your head and off your body. You felt a little self conscious, bare chested in nothing but a pair of underwear that wasn’t even sexy. Your arms went to fold in front of you, but Eddie dropped the silk and  grabbed your wrists, stopping you.

“Don’t cover yourself,” he whispers, his eyes glued to your body, “You’re so beautiful.”

Blood rushes to your head as you bite back a smile at his compliment. Any anxiety you previously felt about him judging you vanishes, and in its place comes even more need. Eddie tells you to lay down as he softly nudges your shoulder, and you do as he says with no contest. He hooks his fingers underneath the elastic of your panties before waiting for one last head nod from you. When you give the okay and lift your hips, he slowly pulls the fabric off of you, sucking in a breath when your bare pussy finally crosses his line of sight.

He crawls onto the bed and kisses up your torso, starting at your hip bone and making his way all the way up to your clavicle. The hard tent in his jeans rubs against the delicate skin of your inner thigh as he spends extra time marking up your neck, and you get impossibly wetter at the proof of the effect you have on him. When he pulls away, the mattress dips by both sides of your face due to him propping himself up by his arms. His legs bend as he sits up, successfully caging you in, and he takes a moment to just look at you.

“I’m gonna get you ready for me, okay baby?” he says quietly, one of his hands leaving their spot next to your head as he traces his fingertips lightly down the dip in between your breasts, over your belly button, and caresses your dripping slit.

“Yeah, okay,” you mutter out your consent. With your brain as cloudy as it was, you weren’t entirely sure what he was proposing, but you were at a point by now where you would agree to anything.

His middle digit slips easily past the soaked folds around your weeping hole, and he circles the entrance teasingly, collecting your juices before finally breaching, and just his fingertip enters into you. An embarrassing high pitched squeak escapes from your throat, and you raise yourself up onto your elbows to get a better look at what he’s doing to you.

“You wanna watch as I warm you up with my fingers, princess?” he croons at you sweetly. “It’s pretty, ain’t it?”

You take a deep gasp of air as his finger disappears further into you, his hands are bigger and tougher than your own, and the difference is very noticeable. He bends and straightens his wrist over and over, pumping in and out of you with ease, and the foreign feeling is strange yet pleasurable. Another finger slides inside, and he works them into you, opening you up. He’s determined to make the next step after this as satisfying for you as possible.

“You’re so wet and tight, baby. You’re gonna feel so good on my cock,” he practically mewls. There’s a wild look in his eyes, and it only steers you closer to your climax. “You want that, baby? You wanna make me feel good? Make me crave you all the time, even more than I already do?”

His words are slurring together as he rambles on about how perfect he knows your pussy is going to feel around him. For the life of you, you can’t form any response that isn’t loud moaning, but Eddie doesn’t seem to mind one bit. You feel the build up inside of you start, and your entire body tenses involuntarily as you prepare for what you know will be a mind-blowing orgasm.

“Are you gonna cum? My princess is gonna cum?” he asks, and you nod your head to the best of your ability given that the muscles in your neck are locked up. “You’re squeezing my fingers so fucking tight, baby. Show me how pretty you are when you cum. Show me, and I promise I’ll fuck you so good, so right. I’ll fuck you as many times as you let me, and I’ll do it anyway you want. Hard, slow, soft, fast… Just show me how perfect my girl is when she’s cumming around my fingers and I’ll give you what you need”

His promises push you over the edge, and you finish while crying out his name. Literally, you feel moisture leak from your eyes as your head pushes into the pillow beneath you. Eddie leans forward to kiss away the tears, all while still fingering you, helping you to ride out your orgasm for as long as possible.

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” you hear as you start to come back to the world. His hand slows down slightly, more focused on a deep and sensual rhythm, and you feel his hot breath on your temple as he continues to soothe you through your come down. “Did such a good job, sounded so pretty moaning my name, wanna make you make those sounds forever…”

He trails off as he pulls his hand away, and you both stare at his hand and watch how the light reflects off the glistening slick coating his fingers. He plunges them into his mouth, and groans around them at the taste as your jaw drops in disbelief. It was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. Still recovering from both your shock and intense orgasm, you grunt out in annoyance when Eddie rolls off of you and stands up. You’re about to complain at the loss of contact, until you realize his reason for doing so was to unbutton his jeans. You instantly rise. Your head feels dizzy from sitting up too fast, but you push through the lightheadedness in order to give your full attention to what was about to happen.

Eddie hurriedly moves to yank his tight jeans down his legs, stumbling slightly but regaining his balance enough to not fall, then succeeds pulling down the denim and kicking his legs out of it. His legs are pale- as could be suspected from wearing nothing but full length pants in Indiana- and they look rather soft. You want to reach your hand out and graze his calf to see if they’re as soft as they appear, or if looks are deceiving and his dark wisps of leg hair actually have a coarse texture. There’s no time to dwell on that instinct, as very soon after discarding his pants he follows his boxers with them, and you’re distracted by hair in another area.

Eddie’s cock springs to his stomach when he straightens up from pulling off his underwear. The sight of it both makes you want to spread your legs and squeeze your thighs together, but the choice is made for you when Eddie takes your knee with one of his hands and settles between your legs on the bed. His lips met yours as his shaft grazed your soaked lips, brushing against your clit and causing you to buck up into hip, but your hips are pinned down by his pelvis. The pressure allows some relief, but you crave more.

“Fuck me,” you beg, “Please fuck me, Eddie.” You sound pathetic even to yourself, but you’re far past the point of no return as far as shame goes.

“Do you have protection?” he asks, in between kisses. “I didn’t bring condoms. I didn’t think- I didn’t expect you to actually-”

“I’m on the pill,” you cut him off. “Just fuck me.”

“Oh my god,” he groans, “Are you sure, princess?”

“Please, Eds,” you whine, “I need you.”

“You need me, baby?” he smiles against you while you nod your head. His teeth clash with yours as you try to pull him somehow closer to you than he already is. “I know what you need. I’m gonna give it to you, don’t worry.”

He lifts himself up so that he can grasp the base of his shaft, and slides up and down your slit before he positions the head of his cock to be poking your entrance. There was a stinging sensation as he stretched you out, sinking in slowly inch by inch until you can’t take anymore and have to stop him.

“Too big?” he asks, and the tone of his voice leads you to believe he’s asking this with genuine concern rather than inflating his own ego. He really doesn’t want to hurt you.

“I just need a s- second,” you stutter out while adjusting your pelvis, trying to ease the dull ache.

“Take all the time you need,” he murmurs while pecking you on the tip of your nose. Your hand immediately flies up to guide his lips to your own, and the emotion behind the kiss distracts you from the tenseness you feel, allowing you to loosen up slightly.

“God,” he moans, “you feel even more perfect than I imagined.”

A smug smirk crosses your face and you lift an eyebrow at him. “So you’ve imagined?” you ask, tilting your head and chuckling.

“Don’t act you haven’t fucked yourself with those fingers of yours while calling out my name,” he responds with a challenging look, “I can just picture it now, your sheets all crumpled from you tossing and turning, your hands cramping up but you ignoring it cause you’re so desperate to cum. Tell me, princess, when we would hang out, how long would you wait after I left to run up here and start rubbing this pretty little clit.”

As he tortures you with these (very true) accusations, his right hand snakes its way in between your bodies to start playing with your clit. He touches the nub with the tip of his thumb, applying pressure before rolling it in gentle circles. It’s too much and not enough at the same time.

“I asked you a question, baby,” he says, his lips now moving against your jaw as you focus on relaxing and getting used to the feeling of him inside you. “You gonna be a good girl and answer me?”

His vulgar words combined with his hand’s actions send you a wave of slick arousal, and suddenly you’re ready, and you want him deeper. “Eddie,” you whine, “more.”

“Nuh-uh,” he mutters, not moving an inch and keeping that deviously slow pace with his fingers. “I wanna hear about you touching yourself, princess.”

“Ugh!” you groan, kicking your leg out like a kid throwing a tantrum. “Eddie! It’s embarrassing!”

“No it’s not,” he comforts you, his left hand stroking your cheekbone as he leans down to kiss you sweetly on the lips. “When I’m thinking of you, I like to go nice and slow at first…”

Your breath gets stuck in your throat as you realize what he’s about to do. He’s going to tell you about him getting off to dirty thoughts of you. It should disgust you to know the boy who was teasing you and picking little fights for the past almost two years has been fantasizing about you, but it only gets you going more. You force your eyes open to look at him, and he’s already staring deeply at you, his face showing no signs of mocking.

“I think about those pretty lips, so soft. I think about what they’d feel like on my skin, around my cock.” His unabashed admissions are doing nothing to help with how impatient you’re getting, but his fingers stop circling your clit when you try to slide down deeper onto his dick yourself.

“I know you want it baby, but I’m trying to talk to you,” he whispers, “You don’t wanna be rude, do you? You already wouldn’t answer my question.”

“Sorry,” you whimper weakly, hoping that if you play along he’ll hurry up.

“So sweet for me,” he says as his hand starts up again and he nips at the sensitive skin in the crook of your neck. “I knew you’d be sweet. I knew your tough girl act was a show. All the times you got mouthy and bratty with me, you just wanted to be my sweet, good girl.”

“I take off everything but my panties. And then I lay down in bed, with the fan on cause I get hot. And I start feeling up my stomach-”

He cuts you off with a chuckle. “What are you talking about, princess?”

You bang your head on the pillow and start squirming. “I’m answering your question,” you whimper, “You’re taking too long, Eddie, I need it!”

His fingers circle your clit fast and he finally, finally sinks the rest of the way in you, bottoming out and filling you up so deep and full. “Keep going,” he orders as he starts rocking in and out of you at such a cruelly slow rate. As if reading your mind, he adds on, “I’ll go faster if you keep going.”

“Fuck, Eds,” you moan out in ecstasy, your mind empty and only able to think about his cock and what he’s doing to you. But you want- no, need- him to go faster, so you summon every brain cell you have and force yourself to speak semi-coherently.

“I feel up my stomach til I get goosebumps, and I start massaging my tits and thinking about what it would feel like if it was your h-hands,” you start to stutter as his left hand mimics your descriptions, tickling your abdomen as it makes its way to your chest. “And while I did that, I would spit on my fingers a little bit then stick my hand in my underwear, and I would start rubbing my clit.”

“And you imagined it was me doing it?” he interrupts, now thrusting into you a little harder and a little deeper, his hand massaging your breast before taking a nipple in between his thumb and pointer finger and rolling it gently. 

You nod your head, too lost in the feeling to answer verbally. He really started to pick up the speed now, hitting a spot in you that you were never quite able to reach on your own, and it’s so sinfully delicious that you feel like you’re going to black out from the intensity of the pleasure. He feels so perfect moving against you, the velvety skin of his cock merging so right with your inner walls. You chastise yourself for holding out for so long, if you had known how blissful it would be, you would have confessed the day you realized your feelings. The idea that you could have been doing this for nearly a year has you cursing whatever forces that kept you apart, though a bitter voice in the back of your head reminded you it was your own stubbornness.

“Then what do you do?” he urges you on.

“Um, I would stay like that for a little while,” you continue, finding it difficult to get your thoughts out into full sentences, “and then when I was close I would… um, like stop playing with my tits. So that I could use that hand to finger myself.”

“Fuck, princess. The way you describe it… I bet you look so pretty when you’re touching yourself,” he groans, now pummeling in and out of you in a steady, fast rhythm. His eyes keep switching between watching you and being scrunched closed, like he’s trying to focus on making this last but still wants to look at your face. “I wanna see it someday. Will you show me?”

“Yeah, mhm, sure,” you agree, not even really paying attention to what he was asking you due to being too lost in what you were experiencing. Your orgasm was near, and you wouldn’t be able to hold it off for much longer. “Eddie, I’m close,” you warn, your nails digging into his back as your arms tighten around his neck.

“Me too, baby,” he says back. The rocking of his hips combined with the closeness of his face caused his lips to brush against yours in a repeated pattern, and the intimacy of that only builds your climax up faster. “Where do you want it?”

Eddie Munson, the bane of your existence for the past couple of years is asking you where you want him to cum. “Inside,” you answer without thought. “Inside me, Eds, I wanna feel you leaking out of me.”

“Oh fuck. You can’t say shit like that to me. How am I supposed to keep living my life like normal after this?” he whines, “Are you gonna cum for me, baby? I want you to go first.”

As he finishes telling you this, the wire snaps and you feel electricity shoot throughout your body. Your second orgasm is much stronger than your first, and considering how the first one had you nearly losing consciousness, that was really saying something. The shockwaves make you feel like you’re literally vibrating around him, and being able to feel his dick twitching as he released his load into you only added to that feeling. You were a moaning mess, gasping in and puffing out little breaths of air as you hopelessly cry out, ‘I’m cumming, Eddie, you’re making me cum,’ along with assorted swears over and over and over. His grip on your waist loosened as he wrapped his arms around your middle and held on tight, burying his head into your neck as he rode out his own orgasm. He muttered something into your skin that you couldn’t quite make out with it being muffled, but it sounded suspiciously close to, ‘I love you,’ and your heart leapt at that possibility.

After a few minutes, after you both gathered yourselfs, he rolled over onto his back and you cuddled up to his side. Your head rested on his bare chest and your arms hugged around his stomach, pulling him as close as you could.

“So,” he starts, his arms folded behind his head and a crooked grin adorning his face, “was I the biggest you’ve taken, or does that happen with all the guys you bring home?”

You furrow your brows in confusion as you turn your head to look at him. “What do you mean?” you manage to mumble out.

“I mean, how tight you were. And how you couldn’t take all of me at first,” he says, like it was obvious.

“Well, in sex-ed they said the first time usually hurts. This wasn’t as bad as I was expecting though, just kinda stung a little bit at first,” you explain, laying your head flat against him once more and scraping at the nail on your index finger with your thumb.

Eddie stops moving and is quiet for a good thirty seconds. You start to feel a trickling of doubt, and become anxious that you somehow said the wrong thing. He reaches up to take your hand in his, effectively stopping your nervous finger picking and stealing your attention. When you glance back up at him he’s staring at you with wide eyes and an open mouth.

“Princess,” he says slowly, like somehow you were the one in this situation not making any sense, “You’re not telling me that was your first time.”

Oh. You suppose that was a pretty important tidbit of information you withheld that he probably would’ve liked to have known before you engaged in intercourse. In your defense, there was no reason for him to assume you weren’t a virgin. You only graduated high school the year prior, and during your time at Hawkins you never had a serious boyfriend. Even when you were being crowned prom queen, your date to the dance was James McKenna, and he came out as gay the week after graduation before moving to New York. Sure, you were privy to the rumors thrown around in the boy’s locker room about what you did to this guy under the bleachers and what you did to that guy at Skull Rock, but there was no more gossip surrounding you than the average cheerleader.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, suddenly feeling guilty for not being completely transparent. “I guess I just thought you knew, or like, would be able to tell?” you say, your intonation changing to a questioning lilt by the end of your sentence.

He starts blinking his wide eyes frantically, his head shaking in disbelief as he tries to think of what to say. That self conscious dread from earlier starts to sneak it’s way back in, and you begin having second thoughts, worrying if he- like your high school friends- thought it was weird that you waited to have sex. He must have noticed the fear in your eye, because he held you tighter against him and comfortingly rubbed up and down your forearm.

“It’s nothing bad, I promise,” he says, speaking quickly. “I guess I just assumed. I mean, you were so popular. Everyone wanted you, anyone would have been lucky to have you-” you smile and blush at his words- “And those guys on the basketball team were always bragging and telling stories-”

“If a plate of spaghetti grew legs and started walking around, those guys would claim that they fucked it. Why would you listen to that noise?” you interjected, your annoyance clear.

He held his hands up in defense. “You’re right, I don’t know why I believed any of that crap. I know you have better taste than that. I mean, you like me, so that proves you have a much more sophisticated taste in men.”

“Sophisticated is one word for it, I guess,” you mumble while rolling your eyes, before sitting up to grab your nightie from the foot of the bed.

“If you weren’t active, why were you on the pill?” he questions you while rubbing your back.

“I’m a grown woman. I figured it was going to happen eventually, and I wanted to make sure I was ready when it did,” you answer distractedly as you work on turning your pajamas the right side out.

Eddie hums in understanding but is otherwise quiet as he watches you redress yourself, except for a cheeky wolf whistle when you need to bend over to pick up your panties. Once you're covered up again, you turn around to see him staring at you in amusement.

“What?” you ask with a smile, climbing back onto the bed and throwing a leg over his thighs, settling onto his lap. The tips of your noses brush against each other as you see that gleam in his eyes you recognize as him trying to stifle laughter when teasing you. “What is it?” you repeat, shoving him gently on his chest before looping your arms around his neck.

He shakes with silent laughter then leans back to quirk a brow at you. “A plate of spaghetti?” he asks. You grab a pillow to hit him in the head with, but drop it when you’re tackled and pinned down, giggling and kicking your feet as he kisses up your collar bone.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things fanfic #stranger things smut

[ethical-cain-vinnel]

hear me out, you and anakin have been enemies for years like just constant head butting and competition, and one day y’all both are training and your both trying to show off competitively, and afterwards, just to piss him if you say your master is kind of attractive or something and what happens next happens 🤭 sorry i’m famished for enemies to lovers anakin stuff

RAHHHHHH I LOVE THIS IDEA THIS HAS ME LEGIT FOAMING AT THE MOUTH THANK YOU GIRLBOSS

SPOILED BITCH

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x reader

Teaser Trailer: Your Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi usually has you and Anakin separated when training. He’s worried that the animosity between you two could eventually lead to one of you getting hurt because you two don’t know when to stop. But today, on the rest day for training, he’s woken you two up and has decided that you two would hash out your differences and train together for the first (and probably last) time.

Tags/Warnings: Bickering, porn with plot, very little use of Y/N, no gendered terms (girl, she/her, etc) but AFAB anatomy (im sorry idk how to write AMAB anatomy), hatefucking, lowkey dubcon at the start but quickly turns consensual, mentions of Padme (they’re broken up in this), bath sex, rough sex, little to no prep (make sure to prep irl or that shit HURTS, coming from your local whore), unprotected p in v (don’t be silly, wrap ya willy), choking, fluff at the end

Notes: IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I LOWKEY HAD NO IDEA HOW TO START IT LMFAO but im really glad you sent this in cause I had a lot of fun writing this!! I did change it a little bit but it still has that enemies to lovers plot that you said you were jonesing for so I hope you like it! Also im so sorry if anakin is ooc i really tried to make him true to his character.

In the heart of the Jedi Temple, a place of serenity and wisdom, were two dickheads who couldn’t stop bickering and driving their master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, absolutely insane. Every word moved him more and more to the dark side (kidding, not kidding). “You’ll never be a true Jedi, Skywalker,” You taunted, your eyes flashing with defiance. “You let your emotions control you too easily.” “And you’re too focused on rules and regulations,” he shot back, his tone dripping with disdain. “The Jedi Code has made you blind to the real world.” You were about to respond when your master spoke. “Enough. Both of you.” He turns around and gives you both a sharp glare. This shuts you both right up. “Sorry, Master,” You both mumble like scolded children. Obi-Wan sighs and continues taking you to the training ground.

When you arrive at the grounds, you and Anakin shoot each other confused looks before Obi-Wan begins to speak. “In the past, I have not let you two train together. This is because I am afraid one, if not both of you, will have bad physical injuries by the end. But,” Flashes of annoyance and exhaustion from months of your constant bickering show in his eyes. “You two have officially worn me down. Today, you will train together. I will not be supervising because I feel you two should work this out by any means necessary. As long as you both come out of the training alive, I don’t care what happens here.” You begin to feel a bit guilty. You and Anakin have indeed pushed your master to his limits. But that’s quickly replaced by excitement and needing to beat Anakin.

Obi-Wan laid out the rules of the training before quickly leaving the grounds. With Obi-Wan's departure, you and Anakin found yourselves standing on the training ground, lightsabers in hand, the tension thick enough to slice through. Anakin couldn't resist taking the first jab, both verbally and physically. "Well, Y/N, let's see if you can back up all that talk." You smirked, your eyes glinting with determination. "Oh, Anakin, I've been waiting for this moment. Let's see if you can finally prove that you're not all bark and no bite." The clash of lightsabers rang out as the duel commenced, the blades creating sparks of energy that mirrored the sparks flying between you. "You're still too aggressive, Anakin," you taunted, sidestepping his lunge. "The Force doesn't respond well to blind rage, you know," Anakin grunted, his frustration evident. "And you're too busy following the rule book to see the big picture. Sometimes, you have to do what's necessary." Your retort came swiftly, "Sometimes, what's necessary isn't letting your emotions run rampant. That's how we fall to the dark side." The battle raged, each strike and parry accompanied by another biting remark. It was as if the Force itself reveled in your ongoing rivalry, fueling the intensity of the duel.

"You know, Anakin, maybe if you focused on your training more than your obsession with winning, you'd improve," you quipped, dodging a particularly aggressive swipe from his lightsaber. Anakin's eyes blazed with anger, and he pushed harder, but you deftly countered his every move. "And maybe if you let loose a bit, you'd discover there's more to the Force than ancient texts and lectures." Your movements became fluid, almost graceful, as you expertly parried Anakin's attacks. "I'll take wisdom over recklessness any day, Anakin." As the duel continued, your words stung as much as your strikes, and it was clear that Anakin was growing frustrated, his resolve wavering. He overextended himself in a moment of vulnerability, leaving an opening you quickly seized. With a swift maneuver, you disarmed him, sending his lightsaber flying out of his grasp. You held your lightsaber at his throat, a triumphant smile on your lips. "Checkmate," you declared, breathing heavily but victorious.

Later that night, you were getting ready for bed. The training with Anakin was rewarding but so fucking tiring. You had bruises and small cuts all over your body that stung as you entered the hot bath, the salts meant for relaxation causing your muscles to tense up and a small, involuntary whimper to leave your mouth. As you sunk deeper into the water, you relaxed more. Your cuts still stung, but it was all worth it to wipe that stupid smile off of your rival’s face. God, his stupid face. You had no idea what Padme sees in him. His stupid brooding blue eyes, his full lips that always turn into a scowl when he sees you. Fuck. Even you, his number one rival, can’t deny that he’s really hot. You’re snapped out of your thoughts when you hear someone enter the bathroom. You immediately make sure your entire body is below the water, the bubbles covering you. You look to see who it is and it’s Anakin. “Anakin, what the FUCK?? GET OUT!” you begin to scream when he covers your mouth, glaring down at you as he leans over the tub. Your voice got caught in your throat as his glare sent shivers down your spine and warmth down to your pussy. When he can tell you’ve officially shut up, he slowly takes his hand off of your mouth and for a moment, you two just stare at each other, a mix of hatred and lust. “You're a real spoiled bitch, you know that?” he seethes and you scoff. “Oh, I’m spoiled cause I was able to put you in your place?” His hand shoots to grab your neck, choking you slightly and you let out a small whimper, not expecting it. He smirks and pulls you into a rough kiss, your mind going a million miles an hour. You pull away and he lets you, not wanting to force you into anything you don’t want to do. “What is wrong with you??” You say, obviously bothered. “You’re dating Padme and you’re trying to kiss me and fuck me?? What is wrong with you??” You fume. He smirks a bit, thinking your reaction is a bit funny. “Padme and I broke up a month ago.” Those words make your jaw drop and your eyes practically bug out of your skull.

But he knows that all of your inhibitions were limited only to him not being single, as you immediately pull him into another heated kiss, tongue and teeth clashing as you help him hastily strip off his robes and you pull him into the tub with you. You lay back against the porcelain and he gets on top of you, his hand coming up to choke you slightly again. He begins to kiss down your neck and to your collarbone, his free hand coming to pinch your soapy tits and you whine. Your hand found his cock in the water and lined him up with your entrance. He quickly pushed in and gave you no time to adjust to his (massive) size as he began pounding you roughly. “Stupid spoiled bitch. Always a pain in my ass yet I’m dicking you down.” He mumbles breathily as his cock hits your g spot over and over again, leaving you breathless. “Say thank you.” He demands but you’re already too fucked out to hear. It isn’t until he slaps you across the face that you can listen. “I fucking said thank me. Do it and maybe I’ll let you cum tonight” “Thank you!! Thank you Anakin!!” You moan loudly and his hand comes back to your throat, a smirk on his face “Yea thats what I fuckin’ thought. Good fuckin slut f’me. So fuckin good” He pants as he fucks your pussy with reckless abandon. He can feel your cunt clenching on him, signaling that you’re close to cumming and if he wasn’t also on the brink, he woulda stopped right then and there and ruined your orgasm. “Cum f’me. Cum f’me, baby” He moans and the chord in your belly snaps, covering his cock with your juices as you moan his name. He whimpers softly and you feel as he fills you up with his cum. You’re both left panting and after a few moments you two start to laugh softly, looking at the mess you made. Water and bubbles all over the floor, the water in the tub left white and milky and your bodies sweaty and bruised. He looks at you in a way he never has before and he leans down to kiss you sweetly. “C’mon. Stand up and I’ll help you shower” He says with a sweet smile. You have a feeling things are going to be different from now on between you.

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker #star wars #star wars fanfiction #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader smut #hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen x reader smut #hayden christensen smut #star wars x reader

[sammysficfactory]

AOT Men’s Favorite R&B/Soul Throwback Song pt.1

Eren, Armin, and Levi

(doing ony and connie separately bc i can’t find anything pink for them😔 i also wanna do the ladies but idk if yall gon be feeling that) pt.2 here

Eren Jeager

Soon As I Get Home by Faith Evans

idc what you say this fits him to a t

sexy but sweet yk?

he serenades you a lot but this is his favorite song to sing bother you with

No matter what, Eren always does his best to keep your relationship fun. Most of the time that just means he likes to bother you when you’re busy. You feel a familiar pair of arms wrap around you as you stir something over the stove.

“Go ‘head Eren. I don’t have time for your foolishness right now.” You give him an empty warning and he knows it, which is why he begins swaying you side to side.

“Come on, ma. You know this is our song. You can’t dance with me for like five minutes?” He begins trying to appeal to you by humming the melody in your ear and pressing his chest closer to your back. You roll your eyes playfully before turning the burner on low and turn in his arms to look up at him.

“You not gon’ bother me after this? You know I gotta hurry up and get this done.” You ask, swaying from side to side as the Faith Evans song played. Eren nods, planting a kiss on your cheek before nodding.

“I won’t bother you, I promise. Just let me dance with my beautiful girlfriend.” His mischievous tone makes him sound unconvincing but you move away from the stove anyway and oblige, dancing with him in your shared kitchen.

he truly is a pain

but that’s my man

and imma stick beside him ‼️

Armin Arlert

You Don’t Know My Name by Alicia Keys

i love this song so dearly

literally such a cute and romantic lil song

perfect for my min🤭

Armin’s hand is on your thigh as he drives to the grocery store when the telltale notes of a piano play through the speakers. Armin looks at you with bright eyes and affectionate smile.

“We should make this our song. You know, like when we old and stuff and the song plays and we dance in the living room.” Armin begins verbally painting a picture of what he wants your future with him to look like.

“That’s kinda corny to think about, but it’s cute.” You joke, watching Armin steal glances at you whenever he gets to a red light.

“It’s not corny, it’s nice. You just tryna be nonchalant right now that’s all.” Armin chuckles, gently squeezing your thigh as he drives. You suck your teeth at his accusation, knowing he was half right. It was corny, but the idea of growing old with Armin also sent a warm feeling through your heart.

long story short

armin is a hopeless romantic

and so am i

Levi Ackerman

Lovin’ You by Minnie Riperton

y’all know levi is an oldhead at heart (and irl)

and this song matches his romantic but refined tastes

it’s nice and calm, but the meaning is significant

The hot water and fluffy suds in the bathtub was a relaxing and welcome feeling after the stressful day you had to endure. It also helped that your handsome boyfriend was behind you in the bathtub, washing your back while humming a familiar. You turn around, smiling amusedly.

“What you know about Minnie Riperton?” Levi looks up at you as if you had taken him out of a trance before giving you a small sheepish smile.

“I know about Minnie Riperton, Y/N. It’s a good song, it reminds me of you a little too.” He chuckles, answering in his regular lovestruck tone before placing a small and soft kiss on your shoulder blade.

“You think so? I like the song but I didn’t think it reminded you of me.” Levi nods before you hum in acknowledgment and continue to let him help you relax.

definitely plays at your wedding if y’all ever have one

like in the mini story, he hums it whenever he helps you destress

he’s so husband

#sam’s masterlist #sam’s hcs #black reader #black reader insert #black!reader #fluff #aot x black reader #levi aot #levi x reader #levi x black reader #armin x black reader #armin x reader #aot armin #eren jeager x reader #eren x black reader #eren aot #aot x you #aot x reader #snk levi #snk armin #snk eren #eren x reader #levi x y/n #armin x y/n #eren x y/n #x black reader #x black fem reader #x reader

[6point5crows]

Poly Relationships Aren’t A Plot Device!!!

Bit if a warning: Angry rant with sloppy points and writing but Idc here you go

The thing about poly relationships, is we get no goddamn healthy rep whatsoever, and the rest of the LGBTQI+ community treat us like a weird dog-rat hybrid. Yes I know this is a bit extreme but at least hear me out before jumping in to be like, “That’s not true!!” especially if you’re not poly so therefor have no idea what our viewpoint is like.

To begin, the only rep we ever have in movies or TV or books is boiled down to a plot device, a trope, a love triangle, or simply just sexual. The only time I’ve seen poly relationships in movies and TV is literally just sexual— sexual and cheating. It’s always “I caught my husband with two other girls at once!” Or “Oh I’m cheating on you but let’s force this to work…” Or just overall shit communication and unrealistic issues.

Wanna know what that has done to poly relationships irl?

Everyone assumes it’s some kink thing, or that we are all cheaters, or that it’s all unfaithful and full of lies and jealousy. The amount of people who will hear of an actual poly relationship and go, “Oh you do it for the sex” is WILD.

But wanna know where we’ve heard this sorta assumption before?

For gay and lesbian relationships before better rep was given to it. Do y’all remember when being gay was reduced to just sex stuff by that majority? Poly relationships are STILL THERE. Yeah there’s people who will actually realize that it’s not all sexual, but so many people hear about poly relationships and assume it’s a kink.

Hell, anytime I look up definitions for poly relationships, it always seems to mention “but there’s usually a sexual aspect to that!” ???? NO?? Me and my partners are literally asexual ??

And I’m not shitting on people who are poly for the sex but that’s the same exact thing as like… ANYONE being any sexuality due to… the sex of it. It’s not exclusive to just poly relationships. But for some reason, we are looked at as different than the rest of the LGBTQIA+ community.

Another note is the common phrases and questions asked to poly people in response to saying we are poly. Such as:

- “Oh do you have a favorite?” Obviously harmful?? That’s fucked up??

- “Don’t you get jealous?” ???? Just don’t ask this??

- “Who is the third wheel?” Again just fucked up so stfu

- “Oh it could never work for me, you do you though.” While it seems respectful, if you think deeper about it, there’s no reason to say it in this way. No shit it wouldn’t work for you because you’re not poly. Do you see me going around saying, ‘Oh I could NEVER be a lesbian… you do you though.’ Obviously not because I’m not a lesbian like? I wouldn’t just start listing labels I’m not and ending it with that. “You do you” okay be fr and just say you’re polyphobic lmao

- Or just overall bringing up every single failed poly relationship to compair it to ours. Stop. Nobody cares.

Idk just I’m gonna post this because some of y’all piss me off, always sexualizing a valid label or calling it a trope and kink. Fight me in the comments and let’s see how many people are just polyphobic and small minded lmao.

#lgbt #lgbtqia #lgbtq community #poly #polyamorous #polyamory #polycule

[1waveshortofashipwreck]

Should've Been Born Later, Nix - Chapter 3: The Twins

Easy Company x Fem!OCs

Chap. Synopsis: What will happen when Easy Company finally starts getting settled in 2023?

Words: 3,440

Find the fic's navigation page here !!

Have a question/want to be on the taglist? Let me know !!

Author's Note: (Link to picrew in collage) Hey everyone!! I just wanted to say that part of this chapter mentions irl Easy Company and I wanted to emphasize that this work means absolutely NO disrespect to the real veterans - this work of fiction is based solely on the characters in the TV Series 💖

“Well, how do y’all like 2023 so far?” Zay asked over her shoulder, the three arriving at a pair of elevators.

“It’s certainly… something,” Joe replied hesitantly, causing Zay to let out a quiet giggle. The trio made their way back to the emergency room, Zay leading them back to the beds. The nurse stopped at another desk similar to the one Liebgott and Speirs saw before, asking which bed Malarkey was in. After the short conversation, Zay led Liebgott and Speirs through the maze of hospital beds and patients before finally arriving at the rest of Easy Company. They saw Malarkey laying in his bed, the top half of the bed raised so the soldier was sitting up. The rest of the boys were spread around his bed, some in chairs, others standing and leaning against the wall. Zay could barely contain her shock and excitement - ten people from the show that she has seen way too many times, honestly she could probably quote each episode word for word, were right before her. Surveying the men, Zay smiled and put her hands on her hips.

“So this is Easy Company,” she mused before all of the boys who were sitting compulsively shot to their feet, quickly reminding Zay of the strict etiquette rules of their time. She let out a laugh before she said, “Oh sit please! No need to stand on ceremony!” What Zay did not know was that the men were utterly enamoured - they did not know what to make of the nurse. She was unlike anyone any of them had ever met; she was bright, bubbly, outgoing, but exuded an air of openness and authenticity, something that made the boys feel safe and at home, even in such an alien place. One by one, the boys who were sitting slowly sat back down.

Suddenly snapping back into his leadership role, Dick stepped forward and outstretched his hand. “Ma’am, I’m Richard Winters, thank you for meeting with us,” he said politely, trying desperately to hide his nerves. Dick felt something he had never felt before - simultaneously, he felt safe and comfortable, but incredibly nervous, as if he was going to say something wrong. Zay smiled and shook Dick’s hand with a gentle but decisive grip - he could have sworn there was a spark.

“Azalea Bennett! You can call me Zay though,” she introduced herself to the captain. “And I think I know everyone here…” Zay took a survey around the small area sectioned off by rolling curtain dividers. “Looks like we have Lewis Nixon, George Luz, Bill Guarnere, Joe Toye, Bull Randleman, Doc Roe, an injured Don Malarkey,” she pointed to each man as she named him before turning to look beside her. “Joe Liebgott, Ron Speirs,” Zay finally turned to the quiet leader before her, “and captain Dick Winters.” There were mixed reactions from the boys. Most of the company were impressed and amused by the nurse’s memory, while Guarnere and Toye kept their guard up.

“How the fuck do you know our names?” Guarnere asked defensively.

“Don’t swear around the lady Gonorrhea!” Toye scolded as he smacked the man’s arm.

Zay let out another laugh before Guarnere could retaliate at his friend. “Okay, first, I don’t give a fuck if you swear around me,” Zay commented. The twenty eyebrows in the room shot to the ceiling when they heard the lady swear so casually - maybe they might like 2023. “And to answer your question… I’m not really sure how to tell y’all this,” she buried her hands in her shirt pockets, looking at the ground. “So… um…” Zay tried to find her words, the eight soldiers waiting anxiously. “There’s this TV show, called Band of Brothers, that follows the soldiers of Easy Company and all of their missions and challenges as they fight the Germans in Europe.” Zay meekly looked up to survey the boys, trying to gauge their reactions. Some looked at her with their jaws on the floor, unable to believe her words. Others were staring into space, attempting to process the revelation. Speirs and Liebgott were surveying the reactions with Zay, while Malarkey spoke up.

“So, here, we’re all just characters in a TV show?” There was a certain quality to Don’s voice - it almost sounded like disappointment. Back home, or at least in Europe, they were fighting the war to end all wars. Here, they were just some characters on television.

“Well, not exactly,” Zay explained, “your characters are all based on real people that really fought in Europe, y’all are portraying them in the show, telling their stories.”

“So if we looked for them, we could find people with our names?” George asked from beside the hospital bed.

“Well… you’d have to look in cemeteries,” Zay replied solemnly, “the war was eighty years ago, I don’t think anyone from Easy Company is still alive.” Heads nodded in understanding to Zay’s statement. “Do y’all know how you got here? Or how to get back?” Zay asked the men, scanning their faces with her ultramarine eyes. Her eyes may have been framed by her glasses, but they never obscured the authenticity that shone from her expressions.

“Hate to say it, but no, we have no idea how any of this happened,” Nixon spoke up from his spot leaning on the wall.

“So what exactly happened?” Zay replied, stepping a bit closer to the group. The men looked around at each other… who was going to tell her what happened? Would she believe them? Would this be the breaking point?

Eugene spoke up after a beat of silence, “Well, we were in Bastogne, and we started taking hits, so of course I dove into a foxhole. Except, I never hit the bottom…” the medic looked down at his hands, as if this was painful to remember. “It was probably only a few seconds, but honestly, it felt like I was falling for ages, and everything was pitch black,” he mumbled the last part under his breath, “it was terrifying.” Roe took a deep breath and shook his head, shaking away the painful memories. “Next thing I knew, I was landing on the concrete, and all these boys were falling from the sky.” Roe pointed around the room with a small smile on his face, earning a sparse chuckle from the room.

“I saw him fall in and not come out, so I jumped in to try and see what happened, then the same thing happened to me,” Liebgott spoke up from behind Zay. “Then that one landed on top of me,” he pointed at Bull with a smirk. “Don’t know how I didn’t bite it.” The group laughed as Bull shot Joe a wink.

“You’re welcome,” Randleman replied with a laugh.

“Toye and I went in after Bull,” Guarnere chimed in, “then I think Lieutenant Speirs tumbled in after us.” He looked over to Ron, who has been leaning on the wall next to Nixon.

“Yeah, a blast threw me backwards into the foxhole,” the officer explained.

“When I saw him go in I wanted to make sure he was okay, so of course I followed,” Nixon added.

“Of course I couldn’t let him go alone,” Winters interjected with a laugh, giving heart eyes to his best friend.

“When I saw the captain go in, the bombardments finally stopped, so Luz and I ran over to make sure he was okay, but of course that didn’t go as planned,” Malarkey shot a playful glare to Luz, who was sitting on the floor near the foot of his bed.

“I said I was sorry!” Luz held up his hands in surrender. The group let out another laugh - everyone could tell that they were starting to relax in the unfamiliar environment.

“You wouldn’t happen to know how we could get back to our own… time, do you?” Dick asked the nurse, looking at her with shyer eyes than he had intended.

“I have no idea, but I’d be happy to help you figure it out!” she said with a smile, the brightest smile any of the men had seen. “Do y’all have a place to stay?”

“Can’t say that we do,” Winters answered, glancing back at Nixon - the officer nodded his head, affirming Winters’ statement.

“If y’all want, you’re more than welcome to stay with me and my sister,” Zay offered bashfully, her eyes going to the floor. “My sister watches the show, so she’d know you guys too.” Everyone looked to captain Winters to see what his decision was. No one would admit it, but each of the men were hoping that their CO would agree to stay with the blue-haired girl.

Dick took a moment to think it over before he replied, “I’m not really sure if we have any other option.” He smiled and nodded his head at Zay, a silent acceptance of her offer for a roof over their heads and a safe place to sleep.

“Great! My sister’s actually on her way, I’ll talk to the doctor and see if we can get Malarkey discharged,” Zay replied happily, a bounce appearing in her step as she walked off to the desk in the middle of the room.

“I think I might like 2023,” Luz spoke up with a smirk.

“Hey! I saw her first!” Liebgott spoke up indignantly, sending a glare to Luz.

“Men, she is our host here and you will treat her with respect,” Winters scolded his men in a firm tone. Nixon and Speirs could not help but let out a scoff at Dick’s words, both of the officers quickly going to cover their mouths. “What?” Winters prodded, becoming slightly defensive at their antics.

“Dick, we all saw how you looked at her earlier,” Nixon responded in earnest. Before the captain could reply, their modern-times hostess returned to the group.

“Y’all are all set to go! My shift ends in a few minutes, so as soon as my sister gets here we’ll head out,” she explained happily, bubbly energy exuding from her.

“Thank you for helping us,” Eugene spoke up, a humble and thankful expression on his face, “I know you kind of know us, so to speak, but still, to take ten strangers into your home is one of the biggest acts of kindness I’ve seen.” Zay blushed a bright red and turned her gaze to the floor, unable to hide the smile spreading across her face.

“It’s nothing, really,” she replied shyly, “but that means a lot to hear from you.” Zay met Roe’s gaze for a moment before going back to the floor, her blush nearly matching her hair in regards to the saturation of the color. Before anyone could chastise Roe for his (what Roe would call unintentional) flirtations, everyone heard an odd sound come from Zay’s pocket. Only Zay knew that the sound was her cell phone’s ringtone, Somebody to Love by Queen, but all Easy Company heard was an unfamiliar song and the voice of an angel. The nurse pulled her phone out of her pocket and held it up to her ear. “Hey! Are you here?... Great! I’ll meet you by my car! See you in a sec!” Zay tapped the lit-up rectangle before putting it back in her pocket. “My sister Chrys just got here! Stay here, I’ll get my things and then we can head out.” She turned on her heel, her signature bounce appearing in her step. Liebgott waited for the nurse to be out of earshot before turning to the medic seated next to Malarkey.

“TaKiNg StRaNgErS iNtO yOuR hOmE-” Before Liebgott could finish his mockery of Roe, the medic spoke up to defend himself.

“Hey! I’m just trying to be nice!” Eugene rebutted, voice laced with his trademark Cajun accent. Liebgott, Luz, and Roe began to bicker over flirting with Zay, Guarnere and Toye leaning back and watching the show with amusement. Bull looked on at the three arguing as well, waiting to see how things would turn out. Before things got too out of hand, Zay returned, a multicolored backpack slung across her shoulder.

“Alright! Malarkey is free to go! Ready boys?” She asked, clearly trying to contain her excitement. All ten boys felt their hearts warm at the sight. Roe helped Malarkey out of the bed, the redhead starting to stand on his own. Zay led the men to the elevator, the eleven of them packing in like sardines. Zay wound up squished between the corner, Winters, and Luz. She pushed a button on the side with the label “Garage” beside it before she smiled shyly at the men, backing up against the wall as much as she could. Luz and Winters tried to give the girl as much space as they could, but of course, said space was quite limited. While Winters kept his gaze firmly affixed on his feet, as if he would lose them if he looked away, George snuck a glance at Zay, returning her shy smile as he noticed the blush on her cheeks. As soon as her eyes met his, Zay immediately shifted her gaze to the floor, now staring at her shoes just as intently as Winters. Luz had to bite his lip to keep his smile from growing wider. All too quickly the elevator dinged and the doors opened to reveal the gray concrete of the hospital's parking garage. The boys filed out quickly, waiting for Zay to lead them to her car.

To anyone else, the group would look like little lost ducklings following their colorful mother duck. A mixture of emotions swam around the group - some were relieved that they found someone who not only knew this time period, but also knew them and liked them. Others were still coming to terms that something as fantastical as time travel happened to the company. How were they going to explain this to the rest of Easy? Or to Colonel Sink? Others in the group continued to be wary of Zay, especially Speirs and Guarnere. While they were greateful for the help, how did they know they could trust her? As for Zay, a mixture of emotions coursed through her body - excitement that she was about to spend time with the people who lived in her head rent-free, joy that she could help people who were need, and a hint of doubt that this was all actually happening… if she told anyone about this, would they believe her?

Zay led the group before everyone noticed the lights illuminate on a yellow car with a soft roof. The car had an emblem with a running horse on the back of it, something that only Zay recognized as a Ford Mustang. As if on cue, a bronze, sleek sports car came around the corner and stopped near the men. Zay put her backpack in her car's trunk before greeting the driver stepping out of the newly arrived Nissan Z-Car. The driver was a woman with short, curly black hair, the bangs and tips dyed bright firetruck red. Her look was punctuated by a pair of minimalist snake-bite piercings beneath her lower lip. The girl was wearing a set of auto-mechanic’s coveralls in classic navy blue, the name “Chrys” embroidered in cursive on the front. Zay engulfed the newcomer in a hug, earning the nurse a mild scolding.

“Zay! You’re gonna make me fall!” the girl laughed before loosely returning Zay’s ambush hug. Zay simply giggled and pulled away enough to talk to the girl, Zay’s arm still wrapped around her shoulder.

“Sorry Chrys! I just got excited,” Zay replied, turning her head to look at the group around her car. “Boys, this is my twin sister Chrys! She was kind enough to take the rest of the evening off work to help y’all get settled,” she announced, looking at Chrys with a proud smile. Chrys offered an awkward wave and a “hello” to the rest of group, not expecting the introduction. The boys replied in greeting before Liebgott spoke up.

“Shit! Captain Winters, we need to get our weapons from up front,” he reported urgently. Zay gave the group a confused look before Joe explained further, “We weren’t allowed to bring our weapons into the hospital, so we stashed them in the bushes up front, we put our helmets there too so we wouldn’t have to carry them.”

Zay nodded in understanding before turning to Chrys, “Do you wanna take half in your car and half in mine, then one of us can put their weapons in the trunk?”

Chrys nodded, turning to the group in front of her. “Alright guys, we gotta split up into two groups for the cars, who wants to go with who?”

“I’ll go with Zay!” Luz volunteered, all too eagerly.

“Me too!” followed Liebgott, glaring at Luz.

Nixon chuckled and shook his head at their antics. “I can go with Chrys,” he offered, meeting her eyes for the first time. Just like that, he knew he needed to know her.

“Me too,” Speirs chimed in. He refused to be in the same car as a bickering Luz and Liebgott.

“Can I just have a front seat, whoever I ride with?” Bull asked around his Emotional Support Cigar.

“Yeah sure, I think my front is roomier,” Chrys replied, Zay nodding along.

“Malarkey, do you and Doc Roe wanna come with me, so that you have medical support just in case anything happens?” The two men nodded in response to her question. Winters simply folded his arms, trying to mask his disappointment with focus. “And then captain Winters can take the last seat in my car, so that we have the officers spread out?” Dick’s eyes lit up at Zay’s offer, trying his best to just act casual.

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” he rambled out. “That leaves Guarnere and Toye with Chrys, right?”

“Yeah, I’m good with that,” Guarnere responded. He looked at Toye for his response, who nodded along.

“So it’s Nixon, Speirs, Bull, Guarnere, and Toye with Chrys, and Winters, Roe, Malarkey, Liebgott, and Luz with me, right?” Zay said, confirming the riding arrangements.

“Sounds about right,” Chrys agreed. “Now, just so y’all know, we each only have four seats technically, so someone is going to have to lay across three of y’all in the back.” Some of the men’s eyes grew wide, while others laughed at the notion.

“Enjoy figuring that out, boys,” Bull mused while walking to Chrys’ car. After a few more minutes of discussion and bickering, moderated by Winters, the seating arrangements were agreed upon. In Zay’s car, Malarkey would ride in the front, with Winters, Liebgott, and Roe in the back, Luz laying on top of them. In Chrys’ car, Bull would be in the front, with Nixon, Speirs, and Guarnere sitting in the back, and Joe Toye laying across them. Everyone shifted into their assigned seats/positions, some more willingly than others.

“Someone’s gonna fucking die…” Toye muttered under his breath as he laid across the three men, anger exuding from every pore in his face. Speirs and Nixon were able to keep a straight face, albeit with substantial effort, while Bull simply turned his face away and focused on his ESC. Guarnere, however, could not help the giggles that befell him. The harder he tried to suppress them, the more intense they became. Toye made a mental note to get Gonorrhea back for this…

Meanwhile, in the yellow mustang, Luz was getting situated on his human couch, inadvertently sticking his ass right into Liebgott’s face. “Hey! Watch where you’re sticking that thing!” Joe yelled as he tried to evade touching George’s ass with his face.

“Yeah! That’s a dangerous weapon!” Malarkey called out from his seat up front. Everyone in the car erupted into laughter, save for Luz who shot Don a playful glare.

“I said I was sorry like a million times!” the radioman yelled, sounding very much like a little kid. Once both sisters knew everyone was situated, they drove out of the parking garage. Stopping briefly to place their once-hidden belongings in Chrys’ trunk, the two cars made their way to the twins’ apartment complex. Something that blew the boys’ minds while en route was how the girls played their music during the drive. At first, the men assumed they just had a radio in their cars, which they thought was neat already. However, when Chrys and Zay explained to their respective soldiers how “the cloud” and Spotify work, their minds were utterly blown. This was all the twelve kids talked about as they made their way home.

~~~~~

Chapter 2 | Chapter 4

Taglist: @b00ks1ut , @blueberry-ovaries , @bucky32557038ww2 , @claudycod , @dontirrigateme , @emilee1421 , @executethyself35 , @hanniewinnix , @ithinkabouttzu , @jump-wings , @love--persevering , @panzershrike-pretz , @stolen94 , @xxluckystrike

As always thank you so much for reading!! Chapter 4 will drop next week 😁💕

#should've been born later nix #band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #hbo #hbo war #easy company #credit to pic owners in chapter collage! #my writing #time travel #easy company x oc #richard winters #dick winters #lewis nixon #ronald speirs #ron speirs #eugene roe #gene roe #doc roe #george luz #joe liebgott #joseph liebgott #joe toye #joseph toye #william guarnere #bill guarnere #ol' gonorrhea #donald malarkey #don malarkey #denver randleman #bull randleman

[andreaphobia]

P5R Pilgrimage: I ❤️ Akechi Goro

Finding out the jazz club really exists was the highlight of this trip :)

As usual, more pics and screenshot comparisons under the cut!

First, a quick detour to talk about Penguin Sniper...

There’s actually a number of darts bars in Kichijoji, but I didn’t manage to find any that gave me Penguin Sniper vibes (do message me if you know of one, though!). In the first place, I’d always wondered why a bunch of high schoolers were allowed into a darts bar at all -- you’d expect it to have an older clientele and probably serve alcohol, fr’instance.

Then, after scrolling around the map for a bit, I noticed there’s actually a ROUND1 on the Kichijoji SUNROAD main strip. ROUND1 is an amusement store chain, kind of like an arcade that offers activities like bowling, karaoke, billiards, and darts. Since it’s an amusement center, even elementary schoolers are allowed, though I think there’s some kind of curfew for kids.

So in this particular ROUND1, the darts machines and pool tables are on the same floor...

The layout of the room is pretty close, I’d say, although the RL “bar” is actually a cashier, not a place to eat. The machines in front of the bar let you sign up for play sessions.

I thought about playing a game of darts but decided against it. x) Next time I’ll bring a friend!

Fun note: some of the dart machines make the exact same sound effects that are used in the minigame in P5R. I had a mild out of body experience hearing them go beep boop IRL xd

Anyway back to the jazz bar. XD Even the stairs down to the bar are reproduced faithfully.

The lunch menu, for interest! (I had a lunch set of an anchovy and olive tomato sauce spaghetti with a latte au lait, a slice of cheesecake, and a lime soda. Yeah ok I pigged out. I blame Akechi)

I got lucky, arriving about half an hour before the first show was scheduled, so the place was pretty empty and I got a seat at the bar. The cover charge was 1500 yen; I stayed and watched for an hour. :D

Satou Tatsuya on sax and Michishita Kazuhiko on guitar -- hopefully I didn’t butcher the romanization of their names!

The seats depicted in the game give the best view of the live performances, and are reservation only...although for reasons of needing to face the in-game camera, you will notice that they are looking at a wall instead of the actual performance. XD

(Also, in my head this means that Akechi reserved seats for them on their date there, ahead of time. It’s how it works in real life, so it must be true!)

I took a couple of photos after customers cleared out between shows. You can see the grand piano as well as the raised seated area behind the stage, and the additional restaurant seating on the right -- there’s stairs leading both up and down to more tables.

Just a close-up of the “stage”.

A funny aside that has little to do with Akechi -- while I was sitting there enjoying my food and the music, I noticed that several other customers had with them what looked an AWFUL lot like a single American dollar. Obviously the bar is in Japan so I was wondering wtf was going on; genuinely thought I was losing my mind. Or maybe it was like some kind of secret code that I wasn’t aware of...???? IDK, I was spiraling lmao

It turns out it’s actually your check. (A dollar “bill,” I suppose.............)

Even with the cover charge, the bill came to like $30. Pretty worth for the semi-religious experience of watching a jazz performance at Akechi’s favorite place.

Ending things off with an evening shot of the place lit up :)

That’s it!

 I’ve actually got more photos and videos from a couple of other places like Akihabara and the cafe that possibly inspired Leblanc, but...I’m getting tired of doing these xd So this may or may not be the last one, at least for now!

Hope y’all enjoyed the posts :D

#persona 5 #persona 5 royal #p5r #akechi goro #shuake #akeshu #p5 pilgrimage #my stuff

[mr-and-mr-diaz]

so i’ve been thinking about it for an additional five minutes and here’s what i’ve got and its kinda blowing my mind. Each person in buck’s life either had a Moment with him either in the coma dream or at his real life bedside, with a few noted exceptions. I’ll explain:

Chimney: coma dream, and MY GOD did they make good use of him here. As the guy who is always first to believe in The Crazy he was PERFECT to be the guy who’s like “yeah alright, one ticket to the crazy train.” I’m sorry but Buck proving that he knew him by knowing why he’s called Chimney had me lollling

Hen: Sceptic. And in the coma dream as the milder voice of reason. Funny, and good at keeping things moving. She and Chimney were also great to have in imaginary land since they are the ones who are the most stable without Buck in their lives, likely because of how much they stabilize each other

Maddie: In the coma dream and IRL, but coma!Maddie is essentially Maddie from season 2. Literally heart breaking. Speaking of, my heart is still not over the way she saw the firefighter at the door and simply said “which one”

Athena and May: Buck’s (let’s face it) step-mom and by association, step sister. They’re in real life because without Bobby there, they don’t ever have much to do with him. They understand clear as day that Buck is Bobby’s other son, and they accepted it ages ago, to the point they find it amusing every step Bobby takes to realize it himself. (Back to Bobby in a moment.)

Eddie and Christopher: They’re of course in IRL because without Buck intervening as he does they wouldn’t have a place in his life or in each other lives (pause so i can SCREEEEEEEEEAM about this) In real life, they’re begging him to come back--or more accurately, Chris is, while Eddie stands silently behind him, barely able to see Buck and crying his eyes out. I think when Eddie wasn’t initially fighting for Chris to see Buck all Hospitalled Up, as it were, is because Eddie didn’t think Chris could handle it. The real truth of the matter is Eddie couldn’t handle it. We saw it ourselves--Chris was shaken, but able to pull himself together enough to say his piece and beg Buck to come back into their lives (insert couch metaphor here, y’all make it fit). Eddie could barely look at the bed, and when he did, his eyes filled with tears and he couldn’t speak. Eddie in the coma dream exists, is mentioned, but he’s lost in his anger, doesn’t have his life-lines to reach out for, is missing the man who has his back, and because of that lost everything. These two men truly are unanchored without each other, and without their son (yeah I said it, sue me), are missing a key element that makes their family a family.

Now Bobby. Bobby is the most notable one who is both there irl and in Buck’s coma dream. The man who entered his second marriage with a son he didn’t fully realize he had, though now he’s definitely realized it. The man who is dead without Buck in his life. Who stayed alive because one pesky kid had the gall to work his pesky way under Bobby’s skin and stressed him out enough to look after him and care and not stop caring until he had a whole goddamn family in his hands, both with Athena and at the 118. I’m still struggling to fully feel all the feels here and btw I think we need to take a moment to give MAD PROPS to Peter Krause for his turn as dead addict Bobby because he was fantastic.

It’s interesting, because for some reason in my head, I expected Buck’s coma dream to actually be really pleasant and happy and the lesson he learns is that life is hard but you gotta do it anyway and you’ll be rewarded for hard work. The coma dream was very different--twisted and, for all that Buck was in it, it was missing him like an open wound. I didn’t realize it right away, but Coma Buck is the Buck that’s born for parts, the Evan Buckley that Buck sees himself as in his own head. 

It’s the Buck that can’t help but reach out to help, that desperately tries over and over again to be the support that he himself is desperate for, that has irrevocably changed lives, with his worn heart out on his sleeve, collecting people that care about it without him really realizing, and in return making them care more about themselves, that makes Buck truly who he is, and makes his actual reality what it is. And that’s goddamn beautiful.

Please add your thoughts to this, my brain is still expanding

@loveyourownsmiilee @blutterlie @matan4il

#buddie #eddie diaz #oliver stark #eddie x buck #buck x eddie #otp: you two have an adorable son #otp: you can have my back #otp: i thought you just dress alike #9-1-1 #911 spoilers #911 season 6

[multifairyus]

Spicy Brelwyn Playlist Update

Tl;dr—What should the Playlist name be?

Disclaimers:

1. Idk how to make a post Mature/Explicit so uuhhh if you’re too young for this then like…don’t engage. If you’re a minor, I’d appreciate if you took a back seat in this discussion please and thank you!

2. I personally headcannon the whole “Early College” thing in Legendborn as just normal college. Sexy situations aside I think aging up the characters it solves plot contrivances and makes things simpler where the more complicated option isn’t terribly interesting. As such, the relationship discussed between Briana and Selwyn is between two adults. Moreover, while Sel’s demonia makes an ~appearance~ and influence, this playlist is meant to be conceptualized without the looming threat of him descending into demonia and subsequent blurring of the lines between “safe, sane, and consensual”, as is in Demonia’s Descent. So like…in my headcannon/playlist AU, the power of love makes Sel better at edging his demon? Yeah. Yeah? Sure.

…look, I’m not here to make this shit actually make sense with the plot. That’s for the lovely theorists, fix-it/alt POV fic writers and resource gathering fandom members’ forte. I’m here to provide the official soundtrack of Legendborn smut for those of us on the front lines when there was under 100 fics total on AO3 and for the new fans that will come when Book 3 is released. I do have an aspiration to take undue credit for one of playlist songs ending up in the Legendborn TV show—oh y’all couldn’t tell me NOTHINGGG. If nothing else, I just want people to enjoy and create fan works to the playlists, cuz this is my own kind of fan work 😊

Image from OpenMeDesigns

Aight now let’s get INTO ITTTTT

So, Of Our Own Volition had Brelwyn making love for the first time. The earliest one could theorize it happening (with a non heteronormative definition of sex) could be Into Orbit…tho personally? It’s when The Line was clearly crossed in Virgo’s Scorpio’s Groove. Immediately followed by Sel having a damn religious ascension with Submerge: Until We Become the Sun. We get some afterglow and end on a flirty, playful, even experimental note with We Might Even Be Falling In Love (feat. Bryson Tiller for my Spotify peeps). It’s all very saccharine and tender and sweet and I love it…

This is not that playlist. They are grown and fucking fucking now. We are getting explicit. We are getting kinky. I allowed myself like one and a halfish toxic song in this playlist, since there’s more than enough excellent but SUPER TOXIC relationship songs for the TLC trio, regardless if you’re OT3 endgame or Brelwyn endgame. …A Toxic OT3 playlist will come in due time, with my softboi hours (Brickel? Nickee? Brick?) Brick Playlist along side it as a palette cleanser.

But now? I want input for what a grown and sexy playlist would be for these two!I like wording and terminology from the book—“Everything in Between” isn’t bad but feels too wordy? I’m open to phrases from fics too, especially from who have published excellent Brelwyn smut already—you know who you are (because I tagged you cuz y’all’s work deserves more hype @sweetestblacktea @justbrainrot @thoughtfulbearpanda @ficnoire2 )

I will crowdsource opinions on kinks our lovely couple is into, giving or receiving, in the comments. For scientific reasons, of course. I’m a chemist irl, and I know chemistry when I see it! 👩🏾‍🔬🥵👌🏾😩

Onto my specific thoughts I think may be helpful to answer my query!

~*~*~*~*~*~

I think I wanna have transition songs like the instrumental tracks in O3V and DD. But my searches for “sexy violin” are not giving what I need it to.

An idea I have is to instead have shifts be denoted by a lil “Demonia Dip” as I call it. Not full on Act V of DD bad but like, compared to the rest of the playlist you’d be like “oh yeah it’s that bastard again” we’re talking For Your Entertainment by Adam Lambert and a reappearance of Tonight You are Mine by the Technicolors.

This is an R&B slowjams playlist for our protagonist and King Bree first and foremost… but Sel IS a white boy with THAT kinda playlist for his deepest, darkest desires…it’s only fair the cambion brain gets a few tracks, if only to signal “oh we are NASTY nasty now huh—“ Plus I let the white boy freak flag fly by starting off O3V with Sweater Weather. He can have a dip or two. As a treat.

Track Teasers (in no particular order)

F.U.C.K., Victoria Monet

Earned It, The Wknd (Often and Lost in the Fire are going to the top of Toxic playlist because I couldn’t add them in good faith with content or language I disapprove of in it 🥴 but the Wknd couldn’t NOT be in here)

Speechless, Buddy

Skin, Rihanna

A Muse, dvsn

Rope Burn, Janet Jackson

Teehee this is gonna be fun y’all 💖

Kthxbai

-Fairy

#brelwyn #breesel #selbree #bree x sel #BreexSel #sel x bree #selxbree #Legendborn #bloodmarked #otp playlist #story playlist #multifairyus #the legendborn cycle #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #fanart

[jotatetsuken]

dear theodosia

≡ submission for: @mrskenmakozume’s “Oh, My Daddy” Collab <333 and my gift to Kento Nanami for his birthday ♥️ (kento nanami’s birthday special)

⊹ kento nanami x mrs.nanami!afab!reader (uses she/her pronouns) (sfw, slice of life, angst, fluff)

⊹ trope: established marriage, new parents ┊ wc: 1930

≡ inspiration: dear theodosia - leslie odom jr.& lin-manuel miranda and that would be enough - phillipa soo & lin-manuel miranda from the hamilton soundtrack; this video that was shared to me by @/mrskenmakozume (i urge y’all to please listen to the songs to understand the atmosphere)

≡ warnings: fear of parenthood (from both sides), pregnancy, reader is undergoing symptoms of postpartum depression, pet names (baby, love, sweetheart, I think?), majorly fluff (please lmk if i miss any more tags)

≡ beta reading: @benkeibear @mxonigirimiya (thank you so so much <33)

≡ networks: @tokyometronetwork @hanayanetwork @downtown-roponggi

≡ notes: happy birthday to my former salaryman turned sorcerer. ever since i started thinking, dreaming, watching and writing about you, i’ve fallen more in love with you every day. i know not everyone thinks of you as a favorite character, and it’s totally okay. here’s to finding someone like you irl <3 when dear theodosia played in my head, idk why but i so thought of nanami, and i had to do something regarding this. also, there is definitely a tatsu reference in this :D as always, likes, comments, and especially reblogs are appreciated.

Present Day

“Congratulations, Nanami-san! It’s a girl!” 

Time stood still in the delivery room for Kento Nanami as he tried to process the news the OBGYN had delivered. Not only were you and the baby okay, but you also gave birth to a baby girl. That too, on his birthday. He’d wanted it for a long time, and now that it was coming to reality, he felt his heartbeats pacing rapidly. 

His head then turns to you, as you lie there, heaving and panting with your hands splayed on your tummy, as your gaze fixates on him. He then runs by your side, holding one of your hands, tears welling up in both of your eyes, as you two shed tears of joy with the best news you could’ve heard in a long time. 

As the nurse immediately placed the tiny girl in your arms, you smiled at the baby, gently rocking her to put her to sleep. Both of you look at each other and at the baby as you break the silence, softly muttering, “Kento, we did it! She’s here! How are we going to…”

He then puts an arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer to his chest, shushing you calmly as you feel the rhythm of both of your heartbeats returning to their normal pace. He responded softly, “Baby, we’re in this together, and we’ll get through this together.” Remember when you told me when we were expecting and how both of us were scared?”

You nodded in agreement, “Yes, and I couldn’t imagine having anyone else to join me on this rollercoaster ride other than you. Now we have her.” He smiles at you, responding, “Yes, we do. We’ll give the world to her and, someday, she’ll blow us all away.” When you return to the room, you chuckle. “Kento, how funny that you loved that song so much that you sang it to her while I slept!” His mouth gaped wide open, exclaiming, “What?! There's no way you could have known,” and raising an eyebrow. Throwing a knowing smile his way, Kento understood that you blurted it out of him, causing a tint of blush to dust his cheeks.

Three years ago,

The salaryman-turned-jujutsu sorcerer knew very well that it’s a cruel world we live in today, with the balance of good and evil always being tipped either way. In the aftermath of all the cases he investigated and the amount of tears he had to wipe away, coupled with the personal losses he had to endure, had caused him to harden his heart towards the possibility of pursuing a family, let alone a romantic relationship. 

However, when you, a fellow jujutsu sorcerer, came into his life, he became so enamored with you that he realized he had to stop feeling that he couldn't provide for you. So, during your years of courtship, both of you worked harder than ever, and you realized that you wanted to be with each other for the long term.

One day, weeks into your engagement and months before your wedding, the two of you had discussed whether parenthood was something that was in the plan for the both of you. You then told him, “Kento, I’m not sure about being a mother. You see, the news that’s been spreading around everywhere? That scares me. It took me a while to even commit to you, let alone commit to raising someone. In addition, we're jujutsu sorcerers, and our jobs require us to be ruthless and cutthroat, so it's really difficult to demonstrate kindness and compassion. “I'm not sure if I'm ready to have a child yet”, to which he replied with a small sigh, “That's okay, baby. Whatever you decide, I’m there for you.”

You narrow your eyes at him, in confusion and say, “So, are you saying that even if I plan on not giving birth, or not having kids at all, would you still love me?” He then nods in agreement and responds, “Yes, because we have each other to love. I am irrevocably in love with you, flaws and all. In this world, as I’m a man, I’m supposed to be protecting you, especially from the world’s cruelties, but you’re someone who doesn’t need to be protected. You’re someone who has a heart that’s big enough to accept me. The fact that you chose to marry me, someone who thinks they’re unworthy of love, is, in fact, a miracle in itself. So, as a couple, we’re supposed to face what’s in front of us. Whenever you decide you want one, I’ll be ready, and even if not, I’ll still be here. We’re a team, and we’ll be a team, regardless. I’ll work hard to spoil you the way you spoil me.” This causes you to smile in awe of your husband-to-be as you hug him, thanking him for giving him the space you need.

Years after your summer wedding, in October, when you told him you were expecting, he got so teary-eyed that he vented about how scared he was to be a parent, more so than you, but you held his hand and assured him, “Kento, it's okay to be scared about being a parent. Being a parent is a lot of responsibility. I'm sure you'll do superbly, however. You are good with Yuuji, aren't you?” Kento’s friend and his senior at Tokyo Jujutsu High, Satoru Gojo, had entrusted a first-year high school student, Yuuji Itadori under his care, and as Yuuji came over a couple of times, both of you had been watching each other, and that’s when you realized that you needed to tell him that you were expecting.

Kento sighed and went back to sit on the living room couch to read a book. When you started humming and walking to him, sat by his side and sang a couple of lines while holding his hands, “I don't pretend to know the challenges you're facing, the worlds you keep erasing and creating in your mind, but I'm not afraid. I know who I married. So long as you come home at the end of the day, that would be enough—”

You stopped singing as you noticed Kento smiling at you while holding your hand and looking at your ring. With another hand behind your head, he brought it closer so that your foreheads touched each other, as both of you silently communicated that this was a new phase in your lives, one to endure together.

Three years later,

Ever since your little girl was born, as happy as you were for her birth, you have slowly retreated into a shell, unable to take care of yourself, let alone your child. Days, weeks and months would pass where you’d have sleepless nights, not feel hungry on occasion, and space out in situations, like the one time you let the milk boil over for too long, and with you especially having difficulty bonding with the baby, causing her to cry more. There were moments in your spacing out that even caused you to miss her first steps, and her first word: “Mamma.” Thus, there was more of “dadda” ringing in the house, than “Mamma.”

Kento, sensing that you were not your usual self, requested an extended paternity leave and rushed to your aid, taking care of the baby and encouraging you to go for therapy. A new normal was then established where he became a househusband like someone familiar, preparing your tiffin, pushing you to go to therapy to provide a change in environment for you, taking care of the baby by feeding her milk, changing her diapers, and putting her to sleep.

While with you, he didn’t lose his cool, and was very soft-mannered and kind towards you, but stern when he needed to be. He would hug you constantly, bathe you when you were unable to do so yourself, helped you vent out your feelings, and in the months that you were getting better, slowly, you even observed him singing “Dear Theodosia” to her to sleep. 

An unexpected smile appeared on your face as you remembered the time you were expecting. As you were half asleep, your baby girl kept moving around, so he splayed his hand on top of your tummy and sang to both of you to lull you both to sleep, “Dear Theodosia, what to say to you? You have my eyes, you have your mother's name. When you came into the world, you cried and it broke my heart. I'm dedicating every day to you, domestic life was never quite my style. When you smile, you knock me out, I fall apart, And I thought I was so smart.”

He then hummed for a moment looking at you with a smile, and continued, “If we lay a strong enough foundation, we'll pass it on to you, we'll give the world to you, and you'll blow us all away. Someday, someday...” His gaze shifted to you, and he could feel the rumbling in your womb subsiding and heard you snore softly as you both fell asleep.

You then realized that you were missing around the house and the joys of being her mother, and you decided to try to be there for her. So, Kento encouraged you every day, teaching you to prepare the formula, to change the diapers and bond with her, and the ways she nowadays likes to sleep.

That slowly provided you the confidence you needed to bond with your girl. You started holding her with confidence that was gradually building up, causing her to smile at instances. You got her to hold your finger while trying to walk, and that eventually lifted your spirits.

One day when your three-year-old girl quietly entered your bedroom, she crawled up to your bed, and lay in between Kento and you, starting to sniffle. “Mamma, dadda,” she whispered, causing the both of you to open your eyes, and Kento responds to her softly, “Yes, sweetheart, tell me, did you have a bad dream?” She nodded, sniffling. You stroked her coiffed blonde hair in order to calm her down. That’s when an idea popped in your head.

You then asked, “Is it okay if I could sing you to sleep along with your father? I noticed that you like to hear him sing to you, but I was wondering if I could join in.” Your daughter nodded, responding, “Yes, Mamma.” Your eyes brightened reflecting the incandescent moonlight coming through the window. You then began singing, hesitantly, with Kento eventually joining in, and then both of you joined in together. 

After that, you told her, “Goodnight, my baby, you’re our pride and joy,” and then you softly hear reply, “Night night, dadda,” and then, “Night night, Mamma.” You tried moving around to sleep, but then you felt a tug on your sleeve. You turned around, and realized that your daughter not only fell asleep, but also clung to your arm, for the first time in three years. 

This caused you to gleefully smile at your husband as he mouthed, “I’m so proud of you, love.” As  you replied, mouthing out a “thank you,” you turned to each other, caressed each others’ cheeks and you two fell asleep. You smiled to yourself, being thoroughly grateful that you have the father of your child by your side who not only carried you through your hard times, but took care of your daughter, and helped you reconnect with her. Truly, he was one of a kind, and you were in immense awe of him.

© Shyna 2022 - reposting on any other platform or even tumblr is not allowed. likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated. (taglist in next rb)

(taglist form / @shynahasabookshelf, turn on notifications to be updated)

#ohmydaddycollab #aisha’s nanami birthday special #tokyometronetwork #hanaya network #.downtown roppongi #kento nanami #nanami kento #kento nanami x fem!reader #nanami kento x fem!reader #tw pregnancy #tw postpartum depression #kento nanami fluff #nanami kento fluff #shyna muses #musings of an extrovert

[unohanabbygirl]

I love the FMN universe because it has so much potencial.

I love stories of people who killed themselves in ancient times finding themselves in the modern world.

I LOVE stories where people kill each other in ancient times and are reincarnated in the modern world and have to deal with each other in a civil way and having to deal with how the modern world sees them thousands of years after their death.

If I were an inhabitant of this world, (would I notice this trend of reincarnation in a part of the population, it's not like they are discreet) the moment I found out that there was someone called I don't know, Maegor and Baelor and they somehow reminded me of two Targaryen kings I would do everything to put them both in an enclosed space and watch them interact with each other for my entertainment.

Has anyone in this world ever done this? Someone must have put Jaehaerys and his daughters in the same place to see what happens.If I was an old money rich billionare I would do that.

Like,hmmm the Lannisters are kinda weird,why do they have valyrian names...wait a minute.

Wait, you’re onto something fr.

I think we all know how odd people become as they climb the financial ladder. Billionaires are more often than not straight up weirdo’s behind the scenes according to rumors, so the idea of some super wealthy dude who’s been obsessed with the dance since he was a kid beginning to notice an odd trend amongst certain people (names, their looks, their attitudes) and proceeds to do the most unhinged thing ever by kidnapping everyone and shoving them into a room to play irl sims.

Trapping Jaehaerys and Saera in a room together just to see what would go down is an interesting idea ngl 😭

Now I’m thinking of a crack fic/filler arc in FMN where the whole fam gets kidnapped and wakes up in some uber wealthy guy’s basement who somehow knows who they really are. At first they thought he was gonna do some weird shit but it turns out the guy just wants to see how they interact with eachother. Now every time Aemond hits Aegon over the head or Joff tries to bruce lee his way past the unbreakable glass window the stranger grabs a big tub of buttery popcorn and a comfy chair.

He lets them go after about a month but he’s kind over actually talking to them so he just leaves the door open with a prerecorded voice note that goes “Y’all are dumber than I thought you would be, but I had fun. Bye bye.”

#asks

[the-chihayafuru-landslide]

[ 1 ] Chihayafuru Parallels: Blushing and Hakamas

Welcome to my first Chihayafuru analysis essay? Think piece? Dellusional rant? Idk you decide what this is lmao.

It’s actually wild to think wild that in such a short amount of time (I started watching the anime first in December of 2021?) that this story has literally been on my mind almost 24/7. Chihayafuru started out really good and I was enjoying myself a lot but what actually was the moment that I “cracked” and switched from passive watcher to obsessive fan was Taichi’s infamous “spoon scene”.

The single image that launched a thousand ships.

All Taichihaya fans know this scene like the back of our hand. It is ingrained in our collective subconscious. Pretty sure, when the fandom were all listing our favourite moments, this made it onto everyone’s list. When I die, this scene will be the last thing I think of. When I go to the pearly gates I will ask for just one moment to think of it before I go down to heck. Yeah it’s something.

Y’all boring b*tches who think this is cringe don’t know how to live vicariously through media. B/c yeah if I man did this to me irl sure I’d be grossed out but here I’m like Chihaya is the world’s strongest solider b/c I would have folded immediately.

Anyways, there is something so poignant about this scene. Let’s look back on my initial tweets and see some of my completely normal thoughts I had on my first watch through:

Things of note: I predicted my own downfall and also it’s so funny that I forgot Arata’s name and also felt no need to look it up kjcdjkcajkadk

There is something inherently… spicy (it is spicy but in an intimate kind of way) about the way that Taichi and Chihaya simply stare into each other’s eyes after he pulls his sneaky little “indirect kissing” (a shoujo staple) stunt. However immediately afterwards Taichi shows her the text message and we see… Well we see what kind of thing get’s Chihaya’s eyes sparkling and her cheeks flushed. An indirect birthday message from the glasses guy. The bar is in hell people. Is Chihaya in love with one and completely indifferent to the other? It’s left kind of ambiguous… Though clearly as a viewer we are meant to believe that she likes Arata more based on Chihaya’s visceral reaction vs. THE EMPTY LOOK OF VAGUE CONFUSION SHE GAVE TAICHI. Taichi rip lil buddy but you’re firmly in the Karuta zone.

However thinking a bit deeper it’s actually funny because even Arata’s birthday message is framed as something Taichi “gives” to Chihaya (again we never fking know how Arata had Taichi’s number and not Chihaya’s but I digress). If he was truly a careless jealous shit (which he definitely is at times) he would have just closed his damn phone and said anyways weird Arata didn’t call for your birthday wonder why? I even planned you a big birthday bash and paid for him to attend but he never came… lol. But no, Taichi’s built different. He still shows her the message because he knows how much it means to her that Arata still cares (cares enough to text Taichi anyways lol). Taichi must have expected Chihaya to react like she had just received a message from her dead soulmate… but he still did it. I like in the anime where afterwards Taichi just kinda… Turns away and stares at the river pensively thinking to himself “maybe I should just jump”.

He just like me fr

Anyways I brought up this whole scene because I think it is the pinnacle of the Taichihaya Chiharata debate: If Chihaya was in love with Taichi, why are the sparkle eyes and blushes for Arata? If she FELL IN LOVE WITH TAICHI LATER, why did Chihaya never develop sparkle eye blush syndrome for Taichi? Well friends I have some thoughts!! (You should know, I always have a lot of them).

The thing about Suetsugu’s writing is she fking loves parallels. We as a viewer are meant to compare and contrast Taichi’s and Arata’s relationships with Chihaya. You were never supposed to just see one and say “OH SO SHE LIKES HIM.. DONE!!”… Though some did (rip fallen Chiharata comrades). Though I was confident what I saw in Taichi and Chihaya’s relationship was love, I was never arrogant enough to say that the crush (and yes it was a crush) Chihaya had for Arata couldn’t stick through to the end.

But at the same time to quote @miss-coverly (who is a Kyoru lover like me and has impeccable taste)

IN WHAT WORLD IS IT UNREASONABLE OR WEIRD FOR A TEENAGE GIRL TO NOT STAY IN LOVE WITH THE SAME PERSON THAT SHE LIKED AT 16 FOREVERJDJDJDJJS

Not saying it doesn’t or couldn’t happen… just… it is rare people. We change so much in our formative high school years and what we want out of a relationship changes too. Like you never stopped to think that maybe maybe it would amount to nothing more than what it was at the start? All the Chiharata fans waited so patiently for an epic conclusion that just never came and ik it feels bad man. Some wanted a time-skip to give them the development the sparkle eyes had promised. TBH I emphasize with their pain, I really do. I’d be feeling like dirt if all of Taichi and Chihaya’s relationship development ended in an epic high-five. But, I never had to wish for a hug because Taichi and Chihaya had plenty ;) KDJNJKDSANKDJDKJSA I NEED TO BE STOPPED B/C PEOPLE ARE STILL IN MOURNING BUT I CAN’T.

Anyways back to the topic at hand. I do try to keep an open mind to what the Chiharata fans saw in their relationship that made them think that it would be love. One moment that got mentioned a lot was the two times where Arata compliments Chihaya’s Hakama. Interestingly enough, both these Chiharata moments serve as a parallel to show how Chihaya and Arata’s relationship hasn’t really progressed from the start of the manga and to the end. However, the craziest thing is there is even a Taichihaya parallel. Was it Taichi commenting on Chihaya in a Hakama? No. Just wait friends… It’s such a blink and you’ll miss it moment but the fact it happens in between these two Chiharata moments is VERY INTERESTING VERY INTERESTING INDEED.

[ 1 ] Chiharata Hakama Compliment - The Blushing Karuta Bakas

Chapter 98

Before I get into it, let’s set up the context of this moment. It’s now the Yoshino Tournament one of the few times where people are organized into ranks and not by gender so finally our trio can be forced to play against each other in official matches. Of course Taichi and Chihaya show up looking fly in their Hakamas even though they really didn’t need to. That’s when Chihaya by runs into Arata by chance in the hallway before the matches start…

I WILL NEVER BE OVER HER EXPRESSION HERE SHE’S LIKE DID Y’ALL SAY SOMETHIN

She couldn’t quite make out what Arata said (and to be honest who knows what he really said under his breath). But she puts him on the spot to repeat what he said about her. It’s also funny because Chihaya in her competitive Karuta nature believes that he might be badmouthing her as her opponent LMAO. Again because individual matches are team matches and her and Arata are not on the same team. It also shows how Karuta focused Chihaya is that her CRUSH might be badmouthing her under his breath… LMAO.

When put on the spot Arata admits, while blushing a deep crimson and looking away, that he was saying how her Hakama’s pretty.

It’s honestly a cute moment! Arata is very shy softie whispering his feelings to himself… He wasn’t even going to tell her. Nor can he can’t say directly that he thinks Chihaya is attractive (even though we as the audience know he does we saw him ogling and imagining her in a bikini earlier) so he settles on complimenting her Hakama. Essentially saying (indirectly) “you look pretty today Chihaya”.

Now let’s look at Chihaya’s reaction?

Chihaya looks at him wide-eyed mouth agape with a blush on her face then she scrumples her face and blinks hard so she can regain her focus.

She quickly bottles up whatever emotions she felt for Arata’s compliment because what comes first and foremost is Karuta. She cannot be distracted by cutesy compliments from that little shy boy in the glasses she has a tournaments to win. SEE YA LATER WHEN I MOP THE FLOOR WITH YOU IN THIS HAKAMA.

Now I actually think this moment reveals a bit more than just wow Chihaya is so much in love with Arata and they are flirting. In Yoshino the Hakama is actually a very important to Chihaya (she told him that directly afterwards). When she wins the whole tournament she clutches her Hakama in her hands and said that he one desire was to win while wearing it. The Hakama is essentially Chihaya’s “battle armour”. So while we as the audience can see what Arata was doing… I don’t necessarily Chihaya understood. She thought to herself wow the guy I like complimented my Hakama!

The next time Arata compliments Chihaya’s Hakama happens much much later and we can see how much of their dynamic stays the same / changes.

[ 2 ] Chiharata Hakama Compliment - Thanks my Sister brought it for Me!

Chapter 221

So now we’re nearly at the end of the manga and during the Meijin and Queen matches. Chihaya has finally received the Hakama that Chitose raced all night to get to her. Arata sees her sitting down in front of the cards and just looks at her… It’s pretty evident by the way that he looks at her that he’s still carrying some feelings for her.

He’s still got the shoujo eye sparkle syndrome

But while he points at Chihaya she just kind of sits there wide eyed as he blushes to try and get the words out to tell her how he feels.

:( I feel kinda bad for Arata… Like before, he is still unable to pay Chihaya a simple and direct compliment. We know that’s not what he really wanted to say as he laments it directly afterwards.

Instead he opted to mention that her Kimono’s different… It almost feels like even more of a downgrade from his first indirect compliment. Different doesn’t necessarily even mean pretty rip. BUT let’s see how Chihaya reacted?!

NOOO SHE’S BLUSHING AGAIN!! DRAT, I HAVE BEEN DEFEATED EVERYONE WAS RIGHT SHE IS STILL IN LOVE WITH ARATA… Except not really. I think unlike before where she was caught completely off guard by Arata’s comment on her Hakama, she now had an inclining of what might be coming when he was looking at her that way (hence her wide eyes). When she realized that he was just commenting on how her Hakama was different, she was happy! She’s like yes that’s right it is new and it’s because my sister brought it for me. Just like before the Hakama that Chihaya wears is very important. It has also been used to represent the support that people have given you (think of Ooe’s comments to Taichi). This Hakama is probably the most special one Chihaya has ever worn because the person who brought it for Chihaya was Chitose… She put Chihaya’s ambition above her own :(

When you look at these two moments the little progress Chihaya and Arata have made in their relationship becomes really apparent. Arata while he was bold and was the first one to confess that he was in love, has kept most of his feelings towards Chihaya deep down inside. Maybe Arata was a coward at least when it came to love because when Taichi confessed he held nothing back he was like “I love your smile, your hair, your laugh, your gimp toe, I love when you droll a bit when you take notes in class and the way you thought the River Thames was in France”. But in instances of love, vulnerability is an important foundation. Taichi’s confession (at least at the time) epically backfired and then he was left completely empty. So perhaps Arata was keeping more of his feelings close to his heart was in a way to protect himself since he always thought he would lose to Taichi… There’s also the problem that Arata simply doesn’t know Chihaya as well as Taichi to make such a grandiose statement about her. Or that he doesn’t know the words to say it. Maybe I relate to Arata more than I thought b/c same dude same. The other thing is you should look at the page layout. Now the Chiharata fans might want my neck for this but… What I am saying makes sense. When Arata was looking at Chihaya without her noticing the page was white and airy. When Chihaya noticed him staring the page was the page was black. It’s a purposeful shift.

I almost think at this point Chihaya didn’t want to receive a compliment about her Hakama from him even though her heart used to flutter by it. That’s why I believe that the blush was also partially relief. Oh, he just noticed that it’s different! Thanks buddy o’ pal. Again I feel like people might not agree with me here but you do you lil rockstar you do you. It sucks because we really only know Arata’s feelings we don’t know Chihaya’s so we have to read between the lines a lot.

Looking back I can sorta understand why Chiharata fans felt hopeful by this. The panel where Arata mentions he had more to say it almost looks like there’s autumn leaves in the background. Y’know that “red passion” they always talked about. However, it’s a clever misdirect. It’s supposed to be ambiguous to the end. Maybe Arata’s passion for her would have swayed her had he only had the courage to do it. But… He never did. Similarly nobody really thought about what Chihaya’s reaction must meant. The assumption that Chihaya’s feelings remained the same throughout was all of our downfalls.

But anyways moving on:

[ 3 ] Taichihaya Hakama Moment - Why does Chihaya have to Come?

Chapter 193

So sandwiched in between these moments is an interesting moment with Chihaya that was very much overlooked (not by me though I was reading with a firm Taichihaya bias LMAO). In this scene it is right before the qualifier matches and Taichi has to go on his own to get a new Hakama. Now, of course he gathers the MIZUSAWA besties to come but then Kanade (our Taichihaya solider in the trenches till the bitter end) suggests that maybe Chihaya should come too!

Taichi blushing over the fact he doesn’t want to go Hakama shopping alone… he is baby you have done nothing wrong ever

Taichi asks why Chihaya needs to come and Chihaya just looks at him surprised pikachu face with a slight blush on her face.

But quick can we also just talk about the way that Taichi and Chihaya look at each other. I SIMPLY CANNOT DESCRIBE IT BUT IT JUST HITS. Taichi looks vaguely disappointed that she’s actually not coming… Even after he just complained about it moments ago. Dkjsnajkdnks YOU TWO WERE NEARLY THE DEATH OF ME I HOPE YOU KNOW.

She rejects the proposition because of course Karuta must come first but that doesn’t mean that she didn’t want to go… In fact she REALLY wanted to go actually. Suetsugu wanted the audience to see that Chihaya really was putting up a front in this moment.

It isn’t until Komano conveniently “forgets to tell Chihaya something” that we realize that Chihaya (when nobody could see her) was blushing hard… It wasn’t a blush that she could blink away either. She is lamenting twirling feelings around in her head and getting upset. What is she thinking about? The fact she won’t be there to support Taichi? The fact Taichi didn’t want her there? A missed Mizusawa hangout? The thought of Taichi wearing a new Hakama? Taichi getting fitted? It’s left ambiguous. But what’s not ambiguous is that it all revolves all around Taichi.

The way Chihaya just looks back at him in frustration as they each go their own way. Connected only by the fact they are both working to prepare for the qualifiers. Taichi probably seemed rather indifferent to Chihaya being someone to support him and that probably frustrated her. That’s why Komano (after seeing this and so many other instances) was like Chihaya if you don’t tell this mf how you feel about him it really will be the end for you.

Is it a direct parallel to the Chiharata? No. It’s not like Chihaya complimented Taichi’s Hakama. She was too busy having a breakdown over his haircut.

Me when my bestie gets a terrible new haircut and I hate it. Now I know why Chihaya waited to confess.

How interesting: Chihaya blushes at Arata’s feelings (that he is attracted to her) but the feelings she has about wanting to be near to Taichi makes herself blush uncontrollably. It’s almost like… It was purposeful somehow. If this made sense, great! If you disagree, good for you. However, I am a human and sometimes I make mistakes especially because this manga is fairly new so if I missed anything feel free to jump into the asks or if you want to add your own thoughts I’d love to hear them. THANKS FOR READING!! Charles out-y

#Chihayafuru #chihayafuru spoilers #chihayafuru theory #Chihayafuru parallel #Taichihaya #chihaya ayase #taichi mashima #Charles rant

[mack3030]

Is tim gone forever? Is he gone from tumble too?

Timm is gone from twitter because wellll…

TW: Suicide related Content

So yeah. Tbh he deserves a break. And you know what I’m gonna rant for a second because why not.

You know what fucking pisses me off? The fact that folks like Timm and myself get literally berated, doxxed, harassed, contacted irl, sexually harassed, threatened with legal action, get false narratives made about us, and some people still don’t fucking care or get it.

I shouldn’t have to open my tumblr and see pornographic images of my simself someone else created to sexually harass me. Timm shouldn’t have to open up his twitter messages and see suggestions like he got today. My friend Bucky shouldn’t have had to deal with Cowbuild misgendering him and telling him he didn’t exist. Why? Because even if people disagree with how we speak up, we’re still fucking humans.

But no. This community can’t be fucking decent. I’ve apparently got people on my own friends list feeding info to paywallers by pretending to be my friend. Even telling these whack jobs about my dating life. Yes. Really.

But you know what fucking sucks the most more than the treatment I’ve gotten from these fucking scumbags? The fact that the community stays silent while it happens.

Anyone who knows me knows I’m not a racist and I don’t talk like those fake screenshots. Am I dumb sometimes? Yeah. Do not I get every reference? Oh sure. And did I make a stupid choice or two in voting as a young barely adult? Yeah. But who the fuck has their shit together before the age of 25? Nobody. That’s who.

Meanwhile I’ve almost lost my fucking job for this community. I’ve had to look my boss in the eye and try to explain how I didn’t made someone’s child that they made up in a fake letter to discredit me suicidal. I’ve stood by and talked about this for so long with only a few folks chiming in, some of whom are friends still, some of whom abandoned me after they believed the false narrative that I’m some sort of hateful racist person. Even people who I praised and said were good people turned on me and blocked me just because they didn’t want to dare message and ask.

I’m not quitting this, but damn tonight I’m sure tired. I’m tired of feeling like I am shouting at the wind and nobody gives a fuck.

You wanna know the irony? I literally was driving home today and had the thought that the only way EA would end up doing something is if somebody died due to these clowns and it was mentioned in their note. Because that’s apparently what they want to have happen. They’re gonna fucking kill someone at this rate, and no amount of blood money from CC is going to absolve them of that fact. Nothing. Y’all came close twice with Bucky. And I will tell you, they told their family that if they died, it would be Cowbuild’s fault.

So I ask you, simblr…do you fucking want that?

At what point is this gonna be enough for y’all to stop being afraid of these “creators” and to start saying something? Because this isn’t drama anymore.

It’s life or death.

And it’s y’all’s move.

I’ll be off for a few hours. Cause honestly, I’m so damn disappointed in y’all for letting this go on this long and get this far.

You wanna do something? Speak up. And make noise. Don’t speak up because you wanna look like a good person and then shut up. Speak up and keep it up, because you are a decent person.

Show me this community is actually worth trying to fight for, because I’m struggling to see it.

#tw: suicide #cw: suicide #sims 4 #sims4cc #sims 4 cc #sims4 #sims4alpha

[brckensocietyarch]

sooooo, i’m online because i can’t sleep butttt i want to let y’all know what’s going on with me atm irl. (y’all don’t have to read but i need to state this shit for my own sanity and will explain my extra unpredictable activity)

firstly, i’m stressing a lot thanks to my ndis application being denied because one of my illnesses MIGHT benefits from ONE program i haven’t tried (note: i have over 8 ailments and have tried sooooo many treatments that haven’t worked), now i can reapply but i’ve been told that if i have an official ASD diagnosis i’m likely to get through without any dramas. because of this i’m stressing about getting the assessment, i’m fundraising to try and speed up the process (as i need to access this program and saving myself would take over a year), now with this assessment i know i’m going to stress about it and overthink a LOT, especially stressing on tiny details of things i can use as examples and it’s taking up a lot of my mind. secondly, back in december when i caught the spicy cough something shifted in my neck (my mum said she felt no change but i could tell). we didn’t get it looked at despite my stressing but now there is pain (on top of my normal crps, which is fucked) the pain has spread from the neck down my shoulder and now it’s even effecting my back, sigh. i’m getting a scan tomorrow to see if there’s any difference but i’m worried as this is the same thing that happened when my crps was first triggered and it’s on my right side where my stent is. i’m crossing my fingers that there’s a reason for the pain and it’s an easy fix because if this keeps going i will end up in hospital again which i mentally don’t need right now. so yeah, shits fucked (so fun -_-) please go easy on me if replies take a while and/or i prioritise certain threads. it is truly not y’alls fault, it’s me. anyways, love you all.

#ooc.

[thehigh-waytohell]

Hello gang - time for an update that does not pertain to the upcoming chapter.

So I mentioned before on this blog that I was kind of unhappy with some of the earlier seasons of THWTH (namely, you know, the first one that I wrote in high school with no real direction.) I mentioned that I might do rewrites and that went exactly nowhere.

And, like, here’s the thing. I was kind of treating this as all or nothing. Like, I either had to preserve my terrible high school writing in amber or I had to COMPLETELY REWRITE THE WHOLE STORY which is, frankly, not great given the amount of time I have to exist on this earth. But the ask earlier today got me thinking and it reminded me that I am deeply unhappy with the first two seasons of this story.

So I am going to actually try and edit them (wish me fucking luck). I won’t do full on re-writes because again, I am a tax paying adult and who’s got the time???? But I would like the dialogue to be a little less melodramatic, the plot inconsistencies to be wiped out, and all the moments of high school typical insensitivity to be done away with. (I appreciate none of you for calling me out on the monster in chapter one, but let’s be real, it has gotta be replaced with, bare minimum, a different name.) I’m trying to think of it like patch notes - “character inconsistency fixed, spelling and grammar no longer looks Like That, Patrick now has a left and right hand instead of two left hands,” etc, etc.

I’ve accidentally posted two Wednesdays in a row so let’s keep the streak up, I suppose. Wednesday night I’ll be editing the official first chapter of TTTYG and the goal for as long as my mental health can take it will be Wednesday updates. Either an edited old chapter or a new drabble or (one day) the new proper chapter, also promising to be a doozy in length.

If y’all are so inclined, I would appreciate any additional thoughts going into editing? Like, if you read something and were like “this is offensive but I’ll let it slide” then please don’t! Now is the time to air your concerns. I would really like to hit a point where the whole series is something I would feel comfortable showing to an irl friend, so hopefully the earlier stuff can be recommended in good faith one day.

tl;dr, I’m gonna actually edit the early seasons so if you feel incredibly strongly about what currently exists I suggest you download now

#thwth #housekeeping