#◜ﾟ✧. i want to continue screaming out who i am (modern). ❜

[maybege]

so uh, enjoy roughly 900 words of pure football coach!boba filth under the cut.

some warnings: d*ddy kink, overstimulation, consensual somnophilia, age gap, dom!boba, sub!fem!reader, modern au, unprotected sex, dirty talk, slight verbal degradation

for some context: this snippet is based on this idea, set in this universe where boba is a retire footballplayer and now acts as head coach for whatever football team paz plays for

“Daddy, I can’t take it anymore,” you whined, your legs wriggling as you tried to escape his grasp. But the sensation did not let up. You had lost count of how many times you had come. You had lost count of how many times he had come. Then again, you had no idea what time it was. It had been dark when you had slipped into his room and it was dark outside still.

It was also winter and the days were short so who was to say, really. 

“What was that?” Boba asked, his thumb continuing to brush over your clit again and again.

You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks. You must have looked like a mess.

“Do you remember your safe word?” he asked you, his hand on the back of your neck. His eyes looked at you, dark and intense, and you were thankful for the dim light of the lamp on the bedside table. Because his eyes were what had drawn you in the first time and they were what tethered you to reality now.

You nodded, another gasp escaping you as one finger pushed inside your pussy. The way was eased by the several loads of come he had left there during the night.

“Can you repeat it for me, princess?” he asked gently, his forehead resting against yours, “Can you say our safe word?”

“Football,” you whispered your voice from when you had screamed your orgasms into the pillow.

His movements slowed. “Do you want me to stop? Do you want to use the safe word?”

You remained silent, looking up at the older man above you. You were both sweaty, bodies running hot from the way you had spent the last few hours.

He raised a brow expectantly, shifting and you could feel his cock stirring against your hip. You whimpered, your pussy clenching at the prospect of feeling him inside you again.

“You asked me to push you to your limits, little one,” he reminded you, his fingers dipping inside your folds, “You asked a man old enough to be your father to fuck you so hard you can finally sleep. You can use your safe word anytime you want. But Daddy is not stopping until he hears you say it.”

And with that, he climbed on top of you again.

“Daddy, please,” you whimpered, unsure you what it was that you needed.

“What is it, little one?” he teased you, planting a hot kiss on your neck as his fingers pinched your nipple. Your back arched off the bed and into his touch.

“’m tired,” you finally brought out, your words slurring, “I am tired, Boba.”

His dark chuckle sent shivers down your spine. His weight left you and for a moment, you were scared that that was it. That he would leave you alone. “Turn around then,” he instructed you, his hand landing a slap on your ass you followed his order.

You squeaked, turning you laid down on your belly. “Get nice and comfortable,” he rumbled, helping you fold your arms and cuddle a cold pillow to your face, “You comfortable, princess?”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded, your hand reaching behind you to try and touch him, “Daddy, please, I need …”

“I know what you need,” he reassured you. You felt the bed dip behind you and soon, his warm hands spread your legs apart. Your eyes slipped shut, relishing in his soft touches and the knowledge of what was to follow.

The tip of him swiped through your folds and you clenched. “C’mon, princess,” he coaxed you, one big hand squeezing your hip, “Relax. You know you want another load.”

The truth in his words made your cheeks heat up and you spread your legs further. Boba Fett was a large man and even though this was not the first time he had fucked you, your lungs still lost all breath when he pushed inside you.

“Fuck, you’re tight, princess,” he groaned, slowly continuing his advance. You could feel the come and the thought made you clench. You never thought you liked being messy. Turns out you loved being filthy.

At least for him.

It took only a moment until he was fully seated inside you and the feeling of completeness that filled you made you smile. “Look at you,” he whispered, leaning forward until his chest was plastered against your back, “Pretty princess really cannot get enough. No, she always wants another load in her pretty little pussy, hm?”

“Daddy,” you whined, resting your face on your cheek so he could kiss the one that was facing him, “I want your come. I was a good girl.”

A large hand landed next to your face and your eyes drifted over the swirling tattoos on his arm. Maybe one day you would ask him about them instead of staring at them and salivating when you watched him train.

“You are the best girl,” he agreed, “Best little slut that ever took my cock. You can fall asleep too, little one, that is why we’re doing this, isn’t it?” he mocked you, “Needed a big cock to fuck you to sleep.”

He continued moving, slow and steady, the movement making your

“Yes,” you sighed, your words jumble in your mouth as you drifted off, “That is exactly what I needed.”

[warabidakihime]

★ characters: levi ackerman x reader | modern au

★ plot summary: levi helps you get through an episode

★ content warnings : implied su!cidal ideations, talks about mental illness (panic attacks, anxiety, and depression).

★ a/n: just a lil something i wrote out of sheer indulgence cause i am going through it ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა . so i guess you could say this is true to life and the only difference is, i don't have a levi by myself doing all these for me LOL. BUT YEAH, i hope you like this one and i hope it could help other people who might be going through the same thing.

sending everybody hugs!

-

Title: Until When Do I Need to Run?

"What if I'm too tired by the time I reach the 'pinnacle' of my life?"

Your voice sounded soft and vulnerable as you let those words slip through your lips.

Normally, you wouldn't let these kinds of thoughts escape the confines of your mind, but today, your heart was desperately screaming for any semblance of salvation.

Anything that could shed light on your ever-gloomy world.

From the dining table where your boyfriend sat, enjoying his freshly brewed jasmine tea after dinner, Levi raised an eyebrow in your direction. "What?"

You were at the sink, washing the dishes, as it was your turn this week. You chuckled humorlessly as you rinsed a plate rather mindlessly. "It's nothing. I was just thinking out loud."

"And thinking ridiculous things too," Levi said, his voice louder than usual. It didn't occur to you that he had moved until you were spun around, facing him. He was already behind you while you were racking your brains for a response.

"What's wrong with you? Did something happen?" His frown was deep, his gray eyes piercing. Despite being shorter, his presence loomed over you.

Reaching for the kitchen towel to dry your hands, you stayed mute for a few minutes in an attempt to gather your thoughts.

"Work has just been... rough lately, and the stress is getting to me. But today was especially hard," you started. You were speaking slowly, trying to articulate your words as best as you could.

It was something your therapist had taught you years ago. Because of the things you went through growing up and the trauma you'd accumulated, you'd unfortunately lost your ability to speak coherently at times, almost to the point of being considered a person with a disability.

Having such a handicap was frustrating and humiliating, to say the least. It angered you when you couldn't get the right words out or when your mind went blank mid-sentence, rendering you temporarily mute.

Thankfully, you had Levi. He'd been your boyfriend for eight years, and since you got together, life wasn't as draining as it once was. You couldn't be more grateful to him. The two of you had met while you were on a coffee run at work. He was behind you in line, and when your card was unfortunately declined and you didn't have cash on you, you almost had an anxiety attack.

In his own way of displaying kindness, Levi scoffed from behind you and handed the cashier his card to pay for both your orders.

"If you don't want to go through something like that again, make sure you have cash on you, dumbass."

And the rest was history.

You went quiet again, and while Levi waited patiently, he took your hand, gave it a loving squeeze, and led you to the living room so that you could sit and talk comfortably.

Once you were settled, you took a deep breath, which sounded shaky as it escaped your lips. Your emotions were clearly piling up inside, and it was just a matter of when they would burst.

"Steady your breathing first, Y/N," Levi said as he rubbed your back gently, doing his best to comfort you while you grounded yourself. "Take your time."

Smiling sheepishly at him, you did as told, and then finally, you continued to confide in him.

"Nothing major happened, but work has been really hectic recently due to the amount of things we need to do, and it doesn't help that my team is severely understaffed. So, I guess the fatigue and stress have been piling up, and it's getting to me."

Levi noticed the tension in your shoulders and the way your hands were trembling slightly. He reached out and gently massaged your temples, his touch soothing.

"Any word on that incompetent manager of yours? They're looking for a replacement, right?" Levi asked, his voice tinged with annoyance. He knew the lore of what was happening at your workplace, and to say that he was pissed was an understatement.

Not only were you neglected by your immediate supervisor, but you also had to catch up and do his workload while still getting paid less than him. The whole thing was a mess, and to be completely honest, Levi was on edge, worried for your well-being. It sucked that his worst fears were manifesting.

"They're doing the best they can, so I'm just waiting patiently on that."

Levi let out a 'tsk' and rolled his eyes, clearly more annoyed for you. The gesture caused you to giggle a little.

"And to sum it all up, the whole thing kind of shoved me into another episode, and I started to overthink things again." You said with a pout, then continued, "I started to think of negative things again, like the fact I literally have to work like a horse just so I can survive for another two weeks. From that, I started to get dizzy because it dawned on me that it would literally take me years to succeed. And then I thought, what if by the time I reach the most successful point of my life, I'm too tired to celebrate or to even continue living because that's what I've been striving to achieve for so long, and that's where I've been pouring all my energy—"

"Okay, stop. Stop right there," Levi interrupted, his voice firm. He let out a frustrated sigh and pulled you closer, taking your hands in his. "You're spiraling, Y/N. You're making a mountain out of a molehill. We're going to tackle this together, one step at a time. Right now, you need to breathe and relax."

His gray eyes held a stern yet caring expression. "Focus on the now, Y/N. We deal with problems as they come. I'm here. I'll be your anchor, but you have to let go of the rope a little."

You looked into his eyes, feeling the weight of his words. Levi had always been your rock—the one who grounded you when your mind spiraled. You knew he was right, and his presence always brought you back to reality.

As you sat there, hand in hand, you felt a sense of calm wash over you.

"Thank you, Levi," you whispered, leaning in to rest your head on his shoulder.

Levi noticed the shift in your demeanor. He squeezed your hand reassuringly, his other hand coming up to stroke your hair gently.

"You know, Y/N," he started softly, his voice a stark contrast to his earlier firmness. "You're incredibly strong. You've faced challenges I couldn't imagine, and you’ve come out stronger for it. But even the strongest people need to recharge."

He paused, giving you a moment to absorb his words. "It's okay to not be okay sometimes. It's okay to feel overwhelmed. What matters is how you deal with it. And right now, you're dealing with it by talking to me instead of keeping all that to yourself, and you've also been really consistent with it, which is a huge step. Good job."

Levi squeezed your hand gently again. "We'll figure this out together. Maybe we can start by setting some boundaries at work. Or maybe we can find some ways to de-stress outside of work. We can try new hobbies, or just spend more quality time together."

You felt a lump form in your throat as you listened to Levi's words. Just him being there for you brought so much warmth; it's as if he's hugging you from within.

At that moment, you realized how lucky you were to have him in your life.

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability. His words, spoken with such gentle sincerity, had a profound effect on you. It felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You realized how much you had been bottling up and how much you had been neglecting your own well-being.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Thank you for always being here for me. I don't know what I would do without you."

Levi smiled softly, reaching up to brush away a stray tear that had escaped your eye. "You don't have to figure it out alone, Y/N. And never, ever hesitate to reach out to me. I am the last person that would push you away."

A comfortable silence settled between you as you both took a moment to appreciate the connection. The soft glow of the living room lamp casts a warm ambiance, creating an intimate atmosphere.

"I know I've been a bit of a downer lately," you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. "I hate that I let this get to me. I hate that I'm becoming this person who's always stressed and overwhelmed."

Levi squeezed your hand tighter.

"You're not this person, Y/N. You're going through a tough time, and that's okay."

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. It was comforting to know that you had someone who understood and supported you unconditionally.

The conversation continued, flowing naturally as you shared your fears and worries with Levi. He listened patiently, offering words of encouragement and practical advice. You felt a sense of peace as you opened up to him, something you hadn't done in a long time.

Hours seemed to fly by as you talked. The initial darkness outside had given way to the soft hues of dawn. Levi's grip on your hand never loosened, his presence a constant source of comfort.

Eventually, the weight of exhaustion began to creep in. You yawned, your eyes heavy with sleep. Levi noticed and smiled gently.

"It's late, Y/N," he said softly. "Let's head to bed."

You nodded, your head leaning against his shoulder. "Mkay. Thank you, Levi."

Levi kissed the top of your head. "You're welcome. We'll talk more about this tomorrow if you want, alright?" 

You nodded, a sheepish smile on your face. "Okay."

He stood up and stretched, a yawn escaping his lips. "I'll get us some water."

You watched as Levi moved toward the kitchen, feeling exponentially better, all thanks to him. When he returned with two glasses of water, he handed you one and sat back down beside you.

"Drink up," he said, his voice soft but firm.

You took a sip, feeling the cool liquid soothe your throat. After finishing the water, you placed the glass on the coffee table and turned to Levi.

"Thank you, Levi, for everything," you said, your voice full of sincerity.

He gave you a small smile, his eyes reflecting his affection for you. "Always, Y/N."

Setting his glass aside, Levi suddenly cupped your face with his hands, his touch gentle yet commanding. He leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was more passionate and eager than usual. His kiss conveyed all the love, support, and reassurance he wanted to give you, grounding you in the moment.

You responded in kind, your arms wrapping around his neck as you melted into the kiss. The intensity of the moment made your worries fade away, replaced by the warmth and love radiating from Levi. He pulled you closer, deepening the kiss, his hands moving to your waist, holding you securely.

When you finally pulled away for air, you rested your forehead against his, your breaths mingling. Levi's eyes were soft but intense, filled with a promise of unwavering support.

"You're not alone, Y/N," he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. "I love you, and I'll always be here for you."

Tears of gratitude filled your eyes as you looked at him. "I love you too, Levi."

With that, he took your hand and led you to the bedroom. You both settled into bed, the weight of the day's worries feeling lighter. As you lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, you felt a sense of peace and security that only Levi could provide.

"Goodnight, Y/N," Levi murmured, his breath warm against your ear.

"Goodnight, Levi," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

The room fell into a serene silence, only your steady breathing filling the space. Levi’s arms around you felt like a shield against the world’s troubles, and the steady beat of his heart was a comforting rhythm that lulled you into relaxation.

As sleep began to pull you under, you felt a tender kiss pressed to your forehead while Levi’s fingers lightly traced soothing patterns on your back—his way of reminding you that he was always there, ready to lift the burdens you carried.

[duffslut]

Teach you a lesson

Modern! Axl Rose x Reader

My Masterlist.

Word Count: 613

Warnings: Smut! Minors Dni.

Axl held you by the neck while making you take steps back without even knowing which direction you were going, it was only when you felt your head hit the wall that he finally stopped, his blue eyes stared at you with anger and desire at the same time, you knew you had disobeyed him, but you didn't imagine he would find out so quickly.

- You're a fucking whore. - He said in his frighteningly thick voice, without taking his hands off your neck, you started to run out of air.

A tear ran down your cheeks.

- Don't you dare fucking cry in front of me! - You held back your tears and felt Axl's hand roughly lift your skirt and go down inside your panties.

Of course you were wet, the more badly Axl treated you, the more horny you felt for him, and that made him even angrier.

- Tell me you slut... - Axl started saying as he shoved 2 fingers inside your pussy. - Who does this wet pussy belong to?

- To you baby. - You tried to caress his face but he grabbed your hand before you could touch him.

- To me? - He asked. - So tell me Y/n, why were you talking to someone I said you shouldn't talk to? Am I not man enough for you? - He screamed.

Axl turned your body backwards from him, facing the wall, and arched your back so that your ass was sticking up for him, you groaned in pain as he gave your ass the first slap, burning your skin, he didn't stop, the thick rings between his fingers made your skin hurt even more.

You could feel your pussy literally dripping wet as Axl slapped you, your face on the wall was soaked with tears, you couldn't take the teasing anymore, you wanted him to fuck the shit out of you. Axl put one finger in your mouth, and you sucked on it like you were sucking his cock, and once it was wet enough, he shoved it in your ass.

- Take it like a good girl. - He whispered repeatedly while fingering your asshole.

You could tell when even he couldn't take it anymore, his dick was almost bursting through his pants.

- Let me help you daddy. - You said when Axl finally allowed you to turn around and kneel in front of him.

He remained standing, holding your head as you unzipped his pants, you looked up for permission, but what Axl did was spit on his own dick right before he buried your head in, already making you choke, shoving his cock deep in your throat, you covered yourself in the pre-cum that was constantly leaking from his dick, licking all over its width and down to his balls, sucking them while using your hands to masturbate him. You reached your hand down to his nipple piercing, playing with it as you started to move your mouth up to his belly button, and then continued up until you reached his pecs, you kissed every inch of his skin, and nibbled on his nipple where the piercing dangled, which made him grunt. You guided Axl to the couch and sat down in front of him, rubbing your clit with one hand while the other was in your mouth.

- Please fuck me daddy! - You asked and Axl came closer, finally placing his cock against your pussy, but without fucking you yet, only masturbating himself.

You rolled your eyes and smiled when he finally started to push inside you, but your smile soon disappeared when you felt the warm liquid inside you.

- You didn't deserve it today, finish it yourself and clean up this fucking mess.

[justmeinadaze]

Date Night: Roleplay (Steve X You)

A/N: I was watching Modern Family and that episode with Claire and Phil doing the role-play at the hotel gave me this idea lol

Warning: Married couple Steve Harrington and Fem Reader, SMUT, role-play, daddy kink, slight choking, dirty talk. FLUFF, these two are high school sweethearts with playful banter who love each other.

Word Count: 2748

Steve sat at the hotel bar after a long day at work slowly sipping on the drink the bartender gave him. His suit felt like it was sticking to him but the last thing he wanted to do at that moment was go home to change and go to bed. The strong smell of perfume filled the air and as he turned to see where it was coming from you sat down beside him ordering a drink with a confidence that made him swoon. 

He couldn’t help but stare as you patiently waited. The little black dress you had on hugged your curves in a way that had Steve salivating. Your gorgeous high heeled foot swung as you crossed your legs together. 

“Are you trying to be subtle? Because if you are, you are failing.”, you giggle as you flash him a sultry smile. 

“I’m…shit. I’m so sorry. I’ve just never seen a more beautiful woman.”

The bartender hands you your martini as your smile grows. “I’ll tell my husband you said that.”

He blinks, silently giving himself a pep talk as he makes his move. “Well if you don’t mind me saying, your husband must be a moron.”

“Oh? What makes you say that?”

Steve leans in a bit closer to you and you try to control your eyes from rolling back at the sexy scent of his cologne and aftershave. 

“Because if you were my wife, you’d never make it out of the house dressed like that because I’d rip it off your body and fuck you till you were screaming my name.”

His honey brown eyes watched you with amusement as your sexy smirk faltered a bit at his confession. 

“Hm. Well someone is cocky. What IS your name?”

“Steve. Steve Harrington.” He reaches out to shake your hand and you provide him your own telling him your name as well. 

“I knew a Steve Harrington in high school. He was a bit of an asshole.”

He chuckled and it comforted your nerves as a bit of his personality fell through. “Most Harringtons are, I’m afraid. Even I was a bit of a fucker in school.”

“What made you change?”

“My wife.” You blushed and he playfully craned his neck to follow your eye line as you tried to look away. “Uh huh. She was so beautiful inside and out. I knew after our first conversation I would do anything for her.”

“Then what are you doing at a hotel bar, Mr. Harrington?”

Steve obnoxiously sighs as he turns around and leans his elbows on the counter. “Oh, ya know. She’s too busy at home taking care of our three rotten children.”

“Oh, oh, okay.”, you laugh and he beams widely in your direction. “I’m sure they aren’t that bad.”

“What about you? Where’s your husband?”

“Probably at home fixing his hair in the mirror while our three ADORABLE children run around the house causing havoc.” 

“I’m sure his hair is fabulous.”

He scoots his chair closer to you till his slack covered knees are pressed against yours. You both talk about trivial things as you continue to sip your drinks and exchange the occasional flirty touch. The urge to reach out and caress his face or run your manicured nails down his button-up shirt covered chest was killing you.

Steve knew you were struggling and it was making the bulge in his pants get bigger every time you readjusted your legs to rub your thighs together. A man in the lobby sat at the hotel’s piano and began playing a slow song that had you slightly swaying in your chair. 

“Do you want to dance with me, Y/N?”

You smile as you nod and he tenderly takes your hand, helping you out of your chair, and leads you to the makeshift dance floor. As he placed his hands on your waist, you clasped your hands around his neck. 

“What are you thinking about?”

“Just how glad I am that I met you.”, you answer. “What about you?”

“Same. I’m also…no. I shouldn’t say. I’m a respectful gentleman.”

“Uh huh.”, you giggle as he smirks. “How about we make a deal Mr. Harrington? How about from this point forward…” You pull him closer till feel his groin press against your body. “…you’re allowed to be completely disrespectful.”

Steve groaned slightly as his forehead leaned against yours. “I was thinking how sweet you probably taste between your legs. How bad I want to make you cum on my tongue in that sexy dress. I want to show a naughty girl like you things that your husband never could.”

 Your hands almost roughly tug his lips to yours. “I have…a room…if you want to…”

He hastily nods and you grab his hand powerwalking with him towards the elevator. As soon as the doors close and you press the button for your floor, you jump into his arms, kissing his lips before he trails them to your neck and sucks on the flesh making you moan. 

All too quickly, the elevator dings open and you both pry apart as you lead him towards your room. 

As soon as the key clicks it open, you’re both tumbling through as your mouths mingle together. Pushing you against the wall, you tear at his shirt as his palm reaches between your legs to yank down your silky, lace underwear. 

“I half expected you not to have any panties on.”, he chuckled, throwing them to the side. 

“I have to make a bit of a challenge, Mr. Harrington.” Your hands fumble with his belt as he continues to kiss on your neck, letting out a humid breath against your skin when your palm makes it through the waistband of his boxers and rubs against his cock. “Fuck…so big.”

Steve grunts in pleasure as he takes a hold of your hips and lifts you onto a table near the front entrance. 

“Are you sure you still want to taste me in this dress? Because I’m dying to feel your mouth on my body.”

“I’m a man of my word, honey, but how about we meet in the middle?” His lips attach to your throat again as his fingers yank down the top half of the fabric exposing your tits to his to tongue as it glides down your chest and plays with the erect nub. “Fuck, baby. The sounds you make are so fucking sexy.”

Steve descends to his knees, teasing you as he tenderly kisses along the inside of your thighs. 

“C-Can I ask you something?” He responds with a gravelly hm as he gets closer to your core. “What’s your fantasy?” The man freezes as his beautiful eyes look up at you with confusion. “I mean…is there something you’ve always wanted to do with your wife that you felt like you couldn’t?”

Rising to his full height, he leans his hands on either side of you and you see the game you two are playing begin to recede from his gaze. “No, no, no Mr. Harrington. Come back to me.”, you coo in a loving tone. “I meant…for example…when my husband and I make love he whispers sexily in my ear all these dirty things and I just fucking love it.” Steve grins when you giggle. “I just sometimes wish…he’d take it a bit further. Not all the time but…just be a little…rougher with me. Fuck me. You know?”

He nods, his eyes looking past you for a moment before coming back to yours with a smile on his face that could make the devil blush. After kissing your lips again, he brings two of his fingers to your mouth and without hesitation you eagerly suck on them, running your tongue over the pads and around his knuckles. 

“I love making love to my wife. She’s always so open minded about everything that I’m surprised sometimes. But…there is one thing…I’ve always kind of wanted to hear her say but I was nervous she’d think I was weird.” Sliding his fingers out of your mouth, he uses his other hand to grip the back of your neck as he thrust his two saliva coated digits into your entrance.

“Sometimes when I’m jacking off, I imagine her saying it and I just—fuck—I cum so hard.”

“What is it? Tell me, baby.”

You panted against his lips as his pace quickened ever so slightly. “I can fuck you the way you want to be fucked. I can give you want you need, sweetheart. Let Daddy take care of you.”

“Fuck me.”

His fingers moved so fast the sound of your slick echoed off the walls. Reaching for his wrist, you futilely tried to push his hand away as he made you cum. Your nails clawed at his chest as you tried to catch your breath.

“Please. Please, Daddy. I want to feel your mouth on my pussy. Please.”, you beg. 

Steve practically growled at the name as he lifted you again and carried you to bed. “Mmm—come here, honey.” He positioned you till you were straddling his face and you mewled when his tongue licked a stripe through your folds up to your clit. “Fuck, Y/N. You taste so fucking good.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as he got lost in you, his tongue lapping at every part of your sex before wrapping his lips around your nub. Leaning back, your hand tried to reach for his cock but his pants were in the way. Steve felt you struggle and released his grip on your thighs to shuffle down his slacks enough to spring his length free without him having to stop devouring you. 

Licking your palm, you stroked him as best you could from the angle you were in causing his moans to vibrate through your core. 

“Y-yes, D-Daddy—fuck—don’t stop.”

His hips rutted up into your fist as his face pressed further inside of you. As the coil began to wind, your hands flew forward to pull on hair as your hips grinded against his lips. His long, muscular arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you to him as your body trembled and you came. 

“Fuck…good girl, baby. Coming hard like that.” 

You twitched on top of him as he placed tender pecks against your nub, carefully licking at your arousal as he continued to taste you. 

When you finally let you go, you glided down his frame and pressed your lips to his. 

“Fuck me…please…I need to feel you inside me.”

“Keep begging me like that, baby. I kind of like it.”

You both whimpered as your grinded your dripping pussy lips along his now extremely hard and leaking cock.

“Please, Daddy. Please fuck me. I need you to make me cum again with your dick. Please…”

Abruptly, he flipped you on to your back and lifted one of your legs over his shoulders. You whined as he continued to tease you, dragging his mushroom tip over your clit.

“You need Daddy’s cock, baby?” When you only nod, he abruptly leans forward and wraps his massive palm around your throat. His eyes continuously scan your face, fearing he may have taken it too far but when you moan and bite your bottom lip, it takes every fiber of his being to remain in control and not just cum right now. “Say it, honey.”

“I need your cock, Daddy. Please. I need you to stretch me open. Please—ahh my god…”

As you were talking, Steve gradually guided himself into your core, grunting at the feeling as your cunt clung to him and pulled him in. With a vigor you had never seen before, he roughly dropped your legs and wrapped them both around his waist as his entire body fell against you and he slammed his hips into yours.

Your fingers raked through his hair and down his back as he hid his face to the side of your own, whispering and groaning in your ear as his cock punched into every sensitive spot inside of you. 

“Fuck, Y/N…your so fucking warm and wet…just leaking all over Daddy’s cock, baby. Yeah? That it? Is that the right spot? Mmm—Jesus—I love the sounds you make. You’re mine, honey. No one can take my cock like you can. No one feels as good as you do. I love you so much. Fuck…”

Your eyes rolled back as your pussy began clenching around him. Steve knew…he knew your body like one else, pushing up on his hands as he watched your face, pounding his hips into yours as he watched you come undone. 

“That’s it, sweetheart. Cum all over Daddy’s cock.” His lips quickly cut off your scream as came hard underneath him, swallowing your moan as he thrust into you faster trying to make your orgasm last. “I know, baby. I know. I know. It feels so fucking good. You’re doing so well.”

“C-cum, Daddy.”, you whimper as you ran your tongue along his bottom lip. “Please. I need to feel you cum inside of me.” Steve’s forehead fell on yours as he chased his high, his heavy breathes fanning your face. “Look at me, Daddy. I want to watch your face as you cum.”

As your fingers reached to pull his hair, his hands gripped your wrists and held them against the mattress as he did what you asked. His beautiful brown eyes were incredibly glassy with want but you saw something else that made you breathily chuckle. 

“Steve…you…I can’t cum again, baby.”

He smirked as if to say he accepted the challenge, his gaze never leaving yours as he thrust into you so hard the bed shook. You pushed against his grip but he knew you weren’t trying to escape or in pain. You desperately wanted to touch him like you always did. Your cunt gripped him again and he grunted at the feeling as his smile grew.

“Keep your eyes on, Daddy, baby.”

As his face began to contort with pleasure, it was enough to push you one final time as you repeatedly moaned his name as you came. After getting what he craved, his eyes flicked to yours before squeezing shut and with a few more sloppy thrusts he released ropes of his seed deep inside of you. 

Steve’s body collapsed on yours and your arms promptly wrapped around him as he released you from his hold. He doesn’t remember when he fell asleep but when he woke up again, you were steadily breathing as your fingers played with his hair and your lips occasionally kissed his forehead. 

“Shit. Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“It’s ok, old man.”, you giggle as he leaned up on his elbows to kiss your nose and move some of your damp hair out of your face. “You only slept for 20minutes. Now normally I wouldn’t complain but can you pull out please, Daddy.”

He chuckles to himself as he lifts his hips, mumbling apologies as your face scrunches in pain. 

“That wasn’t…I wasn’t too rough right?”

“No, baby. I’m just sore.” Your fingers reach up gently caress his cheek. “I like it though…feeling you through out my day.” Steve grins as he rests his chin on your tummy, looking up at you with nothing but admiration. “You could have told me, you know? About the Daddy thing.”

“I know. I just…I don’t know. I didn’t want you think I was a pervert or something.”

“Well, you’ve always been a pervert but not because of this.”, you laugh when he jokingly rolls his eyes. “Do…do you want me to incorporate it? I don’t mind.”

“Jesus Christ. How did I get so lucky to marry the coolest fucking woman?” He grins as he watches you blush. “No, we don’t have to do it every time. I like hearing you whimper my name.”

“Same. With the rough stuff, I mean. I’m definitely down for more roleplay, Mr. Harrington.”

“Speaking of you looked really beautiful in that dress. If I had known I would have bought a nicer suit or something. That was just my work outfit.”

“I still think you looked handsome.”

When you sigh, he climbs up the bed and lays on his back, yanking you to his side as he holds you tightly. 

“What are you thinking about now?”

You beam up at him as you tenderly kiss his lips before laying your head on his chest. 

“How lucky I am that I met you.”

####### Date Night Series

[yumantimatter]

Death-Neutral Antideathism

[epistemic status: a statement of personal philosophy. questions and responses welcome, but please argue the tractability of ending death with people who are more invested in it as a goal than I am]

I'm pretty normie for an anti-death transhumanist. I haven't signed up for cryonics and don't plan to unless it gets way cheaper and better, I donate neartermist, I have pierced ears and zero other body mods, etc etc.

I still consider myself a part of the movement, because it's straightforward and obvious to me that if people don't want to die they shouldn't have to, and if they want to change their bodies and minds they should get to.

Personally I'm fine with dying someday. I think I am going to grow up into an old person who has had plenty of experiences and is comfortable with not having many more of them. If I found out today that I had a terminal illness, I would rather spend my time and money on fulfilling my bucket list and leaving my loved ones good memories (and donate the rest) than in the hospital desperately trying out low-probability treatments. (See my opinion on cryo)

(Then again, I certainly wouldn't turn down a miracle cure! Or a known, tested treatment with a decent chance of getting me through! Or something that was unlikely to work but low financial and opportunity cost to try! This is also the same as my opinion on cryo)

I don't view death as bad inherently. It's just a change of state, if one that's uniquely impactful in its irreversibility and all-encompassing scope. I don't agree that people dying is always a great screaming moral emergency, that death is a yawning horror for anyone who looks at it clearly, or that we are all fooling ourselves. For me, the way modern culture treats death is actually a pretty good match to how I feel about dying.

But, um, *gestures at anti-deathists more broadly* *gestures at all the people who do try any possible treatment for their terminal illness* *gestures at the instinctive struggle for self preservation when it would be so much less effort to stop* It sure seems like there's a lot of not wanting to die going around! And it sure seems like a horrible idea to just ignore that!

People who make peace with their eventual death even though they'd prefer to live longer are fine, and not making a mistake. People who make a thought-out choice to die or to risk their lives for other goals are fine, and not making a mistake. And people who desperately want to live, who cling on to cryo and fund anti-aging and search for any possible means of continuing on, are also fine and not making a mistake.

I think death is bad for the many many many people who want to continue living, or decide to live, or endorse being alive, and who die anyway. A natural death after a long fulfilling life isn't an exception to that. This is the part where I do wholeheartedly agree with the standard anti-death talking points, and want them to become more mainstream. That competing perspective which validates the desire to not die, and which spurs people into looking for ways to do something about it, is vitally important for the sake of people who don't work like me.

Maybe this is just a long winded way of saying I'm a preference utilitarian (ish) who takes weird and hard-to-fulfill preferences seriously? If so, I'm happy to take up that flag. Weird-preference-fulfillmentism all the way!

(I haven't even brought up the transhumanism, which I support on the same lines - I don't think my position there is particularly unusual in these parts though, seeing as this is the transgender website.)

For now, I am in coalition with the anti-deathists. And I will keep being in coalition with them, until and unless the world shifts far enough to count my viewpoint as neutral.

[gt-daboss]

Slight Horror, Fantasy Mixed With Modern Elements

Behind the Books (Part 1)

Hell no, the human probably thought. And Shevana couldn’t exactly blame him.

Every human knew of the dangers of meeting a witch. From bedtime stories told by parents to get children to go to sleep to unexplained disappearances of friends, family, or coworkers. Witches were a constant, unavoidable threat to any human. The boogieman that stays hidden in plain sight, any man or woman you meet on the street could be a witch in disguise trying to prey on the unsuspecting. 

And now I’ve not only summoned a random human but shrunk him as well. 

“Reveal yourself, human, I am the only one who can revert you to your true form, so unless you want to scamper around my floors for the rest of your pathetic life, you will come out now.” 

Even Shevana was a little bit surprised at the harshness of her voice, her gruff and annoyed tone she knew would sound even worse to the 3-inch tall man hiding in her room, never mind the unavoidable fact of her being a witch. Still no response, Obviously, ‘Vana, you can’t even hold a conversation when they don't know you’re a witch.

“Listen, Alex, this is all a big misunderstanding, It is not you who I’m after. If you continue to waste my time, however, I will make you part of their punishment.”

“How- how do you know my name?”

The bookshelves. Wasting no time to answer his question, she immediately turned toward the sound of his voice and began walking. In the back of her mind, she realized how scary this probably looked for the tiny human, but it was quickly brushed aside by her annoyance at the whole situation.

Slamming her hand onto the shelf she heard Alex’s voice, she tapped her fingers in annoyance. “Come out, now, I know you are there, do not make me reach for you, human.”

No response, of course, Thats it.

Shoving away her grimoires, Shevana quickly spotted the now-revealed human. Shaking like a scared animal, when he saw her hand reach toward him he bolted. A fruitless effort, but once again she felt her heart nag at her, which she once again ignorantly ignored in the heat of the moment. Snatching Alex up in a tight grip, she brought him closer.

“Wait! Please, don’t!” the human screamed as he squirmed violently in my hand. Many witches had told her their experiences of the first time having full control over a human, –usually through soul manipulation rather than her own size-related one– it was always described as an elating feeling of power. To hold so easily a person's life in one's hand, holding their destiny in your fingertips as they were powerless to stop your whim, their will submitting to your own…

The reality was nothing like that.

Not at all. It was sickening. 

The human’s, cold, shifting body pushed ineffectively against her large digits, digits, whose delicate senses detected the rapid pounding of the human’s heartbeat like a hand to drums. Only instead of the melody of drums it was unfiltered, heartstopping fear. 

Fear of her. 

Thats all for now, I wanted to keep it short since whenever i make long projects they somehow never get completed (looks at my 5 WIP's) but i did leave some mysteries in the story that would be resolved if there was a part 2 to try and motivate myself to complete it lol.

PART 2

[sugar-plum-writer]

Dark Glamour

Paring: Sukuna x Fem!reader Tags: Slight! mention of violence; Fem!reader; Sukuna!imagines; will be 18+ as more chapters come; slow!burn, [I want to have a good build up!]; Modern AU; Mafia!AU

A chapter by chapter series, It will be a bit long maybe 10 chapters. So~ enjoy~

[If you all like it, please heart and reblog the post! to know you want to read more~ and follow for chapter updates! or leave a comment to tag you when I put out new chapters~ I will do my best to roll out UPDATES ASAP!]

CHAPTER - 1

The evaporated city from the map stood deary, with only its rubbles remaining, broken concrete foundation- cracks gracing it with iron rods threatening to crash underneath the pressure.

Shockwaves of the fight remained wherever your eyes could fall upon, swirling winds carrying fear and the scent of blood fluttering around you. Brains oozing out- crying to you about the injustice and pain inflicted on them, bones crushed to dust blowing past your face as a reminder of what you weren't able to stop

The grey sky looked down nihilistically as if used to death and destruction, not a ray of sun graced the Earth and covered itself with clouds as if not wanting to see this nightmarish Earth, crimson ink swirled beneath the watery rivers and lakes with the Earth trapping the dead forever in it's soil.

"Shit. Oh shit. things were not supposed to be like this" you muttered as your heels clacked against the ground, in a hurry all you wore was your bathrobe around you.

You left for just some minutes and the next thing you know your assistant slams the doors of your bathroom open screaming in horror as blood trickled down his face

"Miss Y/N! Boss has started a massacre!"

"What!? How!?-" Adrenaline coursed through your veins spilling into your guts

"I just left him for 2 minutes to take a shower!?"

"Miss-"

"Forget it-" Stepping out from the tub water droplets glistened on your skin dripping from your fingertips

"For now focus on saving as many civilians as possible! use all our resources!" screaming you wore the red stilettos you had removed- almost tripping in a hurry donning your bathrobe

"I will find him!"

"But-"

"Just do as I say if you don't-", glaring at him, "want to die"

Shit this was the biggest mess of your life

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

You had met Sukuna on one fine night as you walked home from work drunk. Feet bruised from walking in heels the whole day, it did not help your boss had to have a drinking party today making everyone drunk. Somehow you managed to escape halfway through and saved your sobbing liver.

"Malevolent Shrine" a deep voice echoed

Raising your head the next thing you knew- you were standing on ink-like black waters, blood red sky, and a shrine- no it could not even be called a shrine- skulls of dead adorned it

"WHAT THE FUCK!?"

"Bow"

Your eyes met his, and looking into those red eyes felt as if- you were looking into the eyes of a demon; a monster so terrifying your legs gave out

"Who-Who are you!? what do you want!"

"Me?", amused he looked at you "I am Ryomen Sukuna- The King Of Curses" smirking he gazed down upon you

"Be honored, your screams tonight will grace me" Stepping down in a flash he was in front of you

Fear. Horrible gut-wrenching Fear consumed your heart eating away through the valves.

"Please…don't kill me! Please! I beg you!" sobbing you kneeled on the ground as tears spilled from your eyes

"I have not even gotten married yet! I am too young!.." your mouth ran by itself like a Ferrari on a race track of Formula One, spilling out essay after essay

"I have not even-"

"Shut up brat, how long is your list of things you need to do? I will kill you if you don't shut up"

"No! No! No! I will shut up!" clasping your hands over your lips you looked at him but your mouth just had to continue, "But how can I not!? There are so many things to do in this world!"

"I said shut up" giving you a death glare he grabbed your jaw

"As for things to do, I doubt your modern world could amuse me"

"Wh-? How old are you?" eyes widening you looked at him

"1000+ years old, why?" confused he looked at you

"What….? And you still have that style?" raising an eyebrow you looked him up and down

"I don't mean to be offensive, but seriously…?"

"Why should I care how I look?" throwing you to the ground he rolled his eyes

"Ouch!", hissing in pain you looked at him, "Because, see for example if you want to recruit people into your group, shouldn't you look good? Looking hot while doing it?"

"What-? What psychology is this?"

"Yeah duh" Putting your arm around his shoulder you looked at him

"You are wasting that face plus knowing about modern technology will help will it not? For example with this phone-" Opening your phone you handed it to him, "You can text, call, etc, isn't it so much better?"

He scrolled a bit as you continued your explanation about modern technologies, the power of money, and so on. Showing him all kinds of things on your phone, all kinds of luxuries, working in the sales department sure came in handy today.

"Hmmm…", intrigued he listened and filtered through the bullshit that came from your mouth. Though he was 1000+ years old he sure was extremely terrifyingly intelligent, the way he filtered through the information grasping the core information shocked even you.

"Fine" tossing the phone to you, "You seem to know a lot of how things work around here" Looking into your soul chillingly, "Work for me, and let's do this so-called style change"

And like that soon you were out, alone on the streets, the realization hit you like a nuclear bomb

FUCK

Biting your lips you walked groaning, sure in a moment of panic your brain switched a circuit and bullshitted its way out. Somehow convincing The King of Curses to go shopping with you. You deserve a PR and Sales award for what you have just done. Sure you were good at what you did, turning thousands of yen product into millions but today, you saved your neck.

With a sharp sigh, you unlocked the door of your apartment.

"This is crazy AHHHHH!" screaming you buried your face in the pillow trying to convince yourself it was a dream

But it was not

Proof?

Right now you are standing in a short black sweetheart body con dress, high stilettos, red lipstick, hair all curled up scrolling through your phone, normally when you dress up many creeps give you stares but today nobody; why?

Sukuna stood beside you.

Link to masterlist!

[shizunitis]

old man yells at cloud: shen qingqiu and the fandom

cw: discussions of homophobia, abuse & ableism

this was not supposed to get this long, or this disorganised. there’s also a lot of profanity because i am who i am. i half-apologise. annoyed/-ing yapping continues under the cut. i’ll reward u at the end with something i promise

look. listen. hear me out

i agree that shen “yuan” qingqiu is oblivious and it’s funny to see him panic and scramble for a foothold in the insane world of pidw, but some of you honestly sound like you think he should be drawn and quartered for having trauma.

y’all safely out of the closet, loved, accepted and supported since the womb? is that it? you’ve never hurt someone by believing lies purposely fed to you by “the system”? lies that, when questioned, get you punished or shunned? you’ve never been guilty? you’ve never been scared? you’ve never had to hide a part of yourself to be accepted? you’ve never been frustrated by your loved ones’ insistence that “they know better”?

“mxtx wrote a novel where the internet troll gets his comeuppance for bullying the poor author” cannot coexist with “abuse/pain/unjust punishment cannot give birth to a healthy society”. either you want shen yuan broken and made into something else more palatable to you, or you want him to be free to dote on and protect binghe and heal. it is clear what the story chose to do.

there’s a whole ass novel out here that’s basically screaming “be compassionate! be kind! be vulnerable! accept others as they come! solipsism is a bullshit thought experiment and not some grand theory about the nature of the universe!” and yet you’ve somehow, as if hungry for blood, focused solely on the shortcomings of a lost, inexperienced young man trying to make the best of his situation while being coerced by an omniscient, omnipotent, asshole of a god.

there is no clearer allegory in modern media about the destructive influence of coercion, brainwashing, and thought policing, than the one presented in svsss. and yet! here i fucking am, coffee-less, reading with my own two eyes corpsezun-cold ass takes on the “proper” ways of navigating self-discovery.

i hate having to be the one to tell someone to touch grass, so i’ll just urge you to read something else, something literal and educational about the struggles of queer/disabled/vulnerable people in unkind societies (all of them) and outright hostile ones (most of them). watch documentaries, seek out the elders of your communities, think back on your own unpleasant experiences, speak with people you don’t agree with and approach conversations with curiosity. lurk in fandoms before you post.

this is something you’ve internalised: that a queer person must be pure of mind and spirit to expect compassion. that a vulnerable person you deem weak must not be listened to since clearly, someone else knows better. that someone who makes a mistake/misunderstands something should be shunned, or at the very least berated in spite of having already faced the consequences of their actions.

y’all don’t have to love everyone to be kind to them and understand them. and honestly trying to “punish” a repressed queer man for how he’s choosing to survive in a hostile environment by spouting borderline-cruel bullshit about his thoughts that never leave his brain just tells me that you have done close to no self-assessment and are liable to hurt people by accidentally saying some horrendous shit you don’t even realise is painful to hear.

as you have done, and keep doing, especially when seriously and without a moment of reflection you post non-jokey “haha shen yuan is stupid and oblivious of course that happened. every friend he has trying to assert control over his choices is a just and reparative consequence of his stupid pea-brained attempt to survive. the system was good actually.”

i fucking love making ‘liu qingge was a victim’/‘lmao bingy is horny gripping shizun connect the dots’/‘shizun cannot be trusted outside for more than half an hour’/‘lmao ballad of bingqiu’ jokes because yeah! that happens! you get people who crush on you! people sometimes get infatuated with you! sometimes people get very invested in your life! sometimes people worry and care even if you don’t realise it!and it is somewhat comical in hindsight, a bit endearing, a lot bewildering, but ultimately mundane and entirely human!

until it actually starts affecting you in real ways. until people try to corral your movements because they “can’t trust you to be safe” without listening to you, a grown ass adult who clearly knows something they don’t. until your own mistakes come to bite you in the ass and, when you’ve fucking fixed it, you get berated and judged for it because others’ self-righteousness takes precedence.

good people learn and change and take responsibility for hurting those around them. they allow those who have erred to find a better path forward. they act with compassion and respect for even the most undesirable of their peers.

there are many messages in svsss that you can learn from. while it falls short in some aspects (naturally, by virtue of being written by a high-schooler), it does not fail in presenting a human perspective on fucked-up circumstances and asking you to understand and empathise.

characters are there to hold up a mirror for you. it’s a safe, consequence-free opportunity to look inwards and decide if you’re okay, or if some things might need addressing.

fandom is a playpen and you get to do whatever you want forever to the dolls. but your playmates are real people who, in some cases, are susceptible to your influence, and will be hurt by how you choose to present your commentary. when they leave the sandbox and see the distorted reflection of your arguments come alive in the real world, they will then internalise it, just as you have.

and then i’ll have to read it and it’s, frankly, depressing to see what my Not Homophobic, Very Woke (lie) high-school classmates would say all over again. is that what you want? to be likened to a 15 year-old eastern european boy? really?

obviously i’m not talking about jokes, bits, comedies, haha hehe’s, or fanfic depictions that i may not agree with from a storytelling standpoint.

i’m not the mayor of who-gets-to-talk-ville, but i’ve lived all my life in a deeply homophobic, racist, ableist and economically fucked country of former soviet influence and it just, like, annoys me to see the same sentiments in these kinds of spaces coming from inexperienced/young people who just don’t realise the impact of their own ignorance. i hope i’ve made this clear even if i sound like a finger-wagging dirty-mouthed grandpa yelling at the kids on my lawn.

fuck i’m so tired

anyway. here’s the reward:

ah… that makes me feel so much better. <3

[heyybaejjk]

MODERN AO'NUNG HCS PT. 2 — SAMOAN!FEM READER

pairing. human!ao'nung x samoan!fem reader

summary. just Ao'nung with a Samoan girlfriend

warnings. swearing

a/n. for my polynesian babes wherever yall at ❤️

masterlist. pt. 1 pt. 3

AAPI month and Samoan Independence day have passed and I think of this idea NOW 😭☠️ out of all times wtf

BUT ITS SUNDAY AND STILL SAMOAN LANGUAGE WEEK ‼️

But idc 🧍‍♀️

Gotta do what I gotta do because I am not letting ts go

I love my culture, just like anyone else does, I'm still learning more about it so I researched and placed some of my own knowledge into this.

Aiuli - Participants who dance and cheer around a solo performer as they dance. Participants are never allowed to dance and cheer in front of the performer, only from behind them.

Taualaga - A performance, importantly the last, to close off an event. Mainly done by a solo female performer. Some are allowed to have people in the back while they Aiuli, some just rather have a solo performance.

"WHAT?" he screams in the middle of class, causing everyone to glance at him.

It was supposed to be a surprise, really. But your ass accidentally slipped out the fact that you were going to perform a cultural dance on Multicultural Day that was coming in a few weeks.

He would definitely try to Aiuli when you dance.

No questions asked.

Although he doesn't know how to properly dance the traditional way, he'll look around and copy the actions of the other pupils.

You both are heavy on learning each other's culture, so when he forgets a certain thing, he goes to your cousins to ask for help

"Wait so- I can't ae-oo-lee in front of her?" Ao'nung poorly pronounces, a slight dark tint on his cheeks as he scratches the back of his neck.

"Never. Always stay behind her, or whoever is doing the solo," a boy says with his arms folded against his chest. "If you see people giving money during the dance, don't throw it at her while cheering. Be respectful and softly stick to her arms, they're gonna be covered with oil, anyway. If you can't do that, put it on the ground behind her.

"Right, right..." Ao'nung frantically jots down as the latter continues to speak.

On the day of your dance, he gets so confused when he sees people swarming around, especially in front of you. He will literally stand there like 🧍‍♀️???

But doesn't copy the others as he sees his friend from earlier who told him what not to do, cheering from behind. He smiles warmly before sticking noted bills onto your oiled arms. Kissing your cheek slyly before going back to his position.

"Alu ai gi ou kae."

Bro got slapped. Not too hard, but hard enough to know that he said something wrong.

"Ow! Baby, what was that for?" He holds his cheek, rubbing it softly. Slightly pouting while looking down at your shorter figure. Quite dramatically because you felt like all you did was tap his cheek.

"Why did you say that for?" You looked up at him with your nose scrunched.

"I asked Vika how to say "wanna kiss?" I asked him an hour ago so my pronunciation wasn't that horrible." He sulks. You roll your eyes before cupping his face, leaving kisses all over his cheeks, nose and forehead. "Yeah well, you just told me to go eat shit. Vika's Tongan, you idiot. He only knows the swear words."

i wanted to write sm more but i rather keep this short LOLOL.

[doyouevenknowwhatshappening]

You are, in fact, not a leftist or even left aligned if you do not support Jewish people and denounce anti-semetic behaviors when you see them.

You can not call yourself a leftist, an alternative person (such as punk, goth, etc), or call yourself anti-fascist if you do not stand up for Jewish Voices.

There is an actual rise in not-zees in the USA and even other places. This is usually a mind frame seen in the EXTREME right and MAGA crowd.

Know your dogwhistles.

Such as "Have a totally joyful day" or "lizard people control the government," as some of the more well known ones. Which are blatant calls for Jewish hate.

I am Goyim, I am not a Jewish person. I have no Jewish ancestors. However, I was taught about Jewish history in the most dumbed down way any kid can. Then I took it on myself (as you're supposed to do) to learn MORE. I have read about the past, both ancient and modern, of what jews have gone through. The amount of hatred, judgment, and fear these people experience is beyond me. For simply existing.

And before ANYONE begins to say anything about Palestine, I am 100% pro-palestine. I support the nation's right to exist peacefully, to have jurisdiction over their land, just the same as I support the right for Jewish people to have a safe place. The occupational control of the Palestinian people, the fact Hamas was created by Isreal, the fact that thousands are dying right now as I type this out; none of this is okay. What Isreal is doing, what Netanyahoo is doing, IS NOT OKAY. All of this has been caused by white nationalism, anti-semetism, and colonialism.

Jewish people as a whole, and Muslims, are NOT TO BLAME for the genocide happening in Palestine right now.

If you read the history, if you KNOW things before you scream them at the top of your lungs, you'd also know this. You'd know to blame Europe for what it has caused. You'd know to blame Anti-Semitism and the UK for "giving" Jewish people, Isreal. You'd know to blame the USA for getting involved in anything in the Middle East. You'd know that NEITHER THE JEWS OR PALESTINIANS WANT THIS.

Propaganda is two sides of the same danm coin people. Listen. Learn.

There are DEFINENTLY people doing things that are cruel, unjust, and horrifying to Palestinians. However, fear mongering has led people everywhere to believe, "Look what this one IDF soldier did/said!" Means "look, Jewish people ARE bad! Think of the children!"

The same way that many Israelis are being fed the same propaganda about Palestinians/Muslims as a whole. SINCE BEFORE OCTOBER 7TH.

Lies will and HAVE came from both sides. This doesn't mean that everything coming out of Palestine is false by ANY MEANS. But it does mean that fabrications to aid your opinions will always and have always been part of how wars have been fought.

People who scream for justice for Palestine while screaming at anyone for being Jewish and inciting hate against them are just as bad as the people supporting said Genocide.

You can acknowledge that what's happening to the Palestinian people is caused by a terrorist state. While also continue to fight against the hatred, misconceptions, discrimination, and fear of Jewish people worldwide. This is not about "picking sides" between Palestinians and Jewish people.

This is about liberation. Full stop.

This is about ending the tyrrany.

You can not be anti-war and yet celebrate when war is being fought. This is not a football game. This is not chess. These are lives.

[maybege]

Fuck me up, Florida!

Summary: Boba fucks you to sleep.

Pairing: ex-footballer!Boba Fett x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 1.3k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: Modern AU, older man/younger woman, age gap, dom!Boba, sub!Reader, Daddy Kink, Overstimulation, mentions of consensual somnophilia, unprotected sex, dirty talk, little bit of humiliation

This is a slightly extended and edited version of the blurb that I had previously only posted on tumblr. It is set in the same universe as (American) footballer!Paz and Boba is basically a retired football player who now acts as head coach for Paz’s team. Technically, I have some more ideas for this but for now, I just want to enjoy the absolute filth this character brings out in me. Happy weekend!

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

“Daddy, I can’t take it anymore,” you whined, your legs wriggling as you tried to escape his grasp. But the sensation did not let up. You had lost count of how many times you had come. You had lost count of how many times he had come. Then again, you had no idea what time it was. It had been dark when you had slipped into his room and it was dark outside still.

It was also winter and the days were short so who was to say, really. 

“What was that?” Boba asked, his thumb continuing to brush over your clit again and again.

You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks. You must have looked like a mess.

“Do you remember your safe word?” he asked you, his hand on the back of your neck. His eyes looked at you, dark and intense, and you were thankful for the dim light of the lamp on the bedside table. Because his eyes were what had drawn you in the first time and they were what tethered you to reality now.

You nodded, another gasp escaping you as one finger pushed inside your pussy. The way was eased by the several loads of come he had left there during the night.

“Can you repeat it for me, princess?” he asked gently, his forehead resting against yours, “Can you say our safe word?”

“Football,” you whispered your voice from when you had screamed your orgasms into the pillow.

His movements slowed. “Do you want me to stop? Do you want to use the safe word?”

You remained silent, looking up at the older man above you. You were both sweaty, bodies running hot from the way you had spent the last few hours.

He raised a brow expectantly, shifting and you could feel his cock stirring against your hip. You whimpered, your pussy clenching at the prospect of feeling him inside you again.

“You asked me to push you to your limits, little one,” he reminded you, his fingers dipping inside your folds, “You asked a man old enough to be your father to fuck you so hard you can finally sleep. You can use your safe word anytime you want. But Daddy is not stopping until he hears you say it.”

And with that, he climbed on top of you again.

“Daddy, please,” you whimpered, unsure you what it was that you needed.

“What is it, little one?” he teased you, planting a hot kiss on your neck as his fingers pinched your nipple. Your back arched off the bed and into his touch.

“’m tired,” you finally brought out, your words slurring, “I am tired, Boba.”

His dark chuckle sent shivers down your spine. His weight left you and for a moment, you were scared that that was it. That he would leave you alone. “Turn around then,” he instructed you, his hand landing a slap on your ass you followed his order.

You squeaked, turning you laid down on your belly. “Get nice and comfortable,” he rumbled, helping you fold your arms and cuddle a cold pillow to your face, “You comfortable, princess?”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded, your hand reaching behind you to try and touch him, “Daddy, please, I need …”

“I know what you need,” he reassured you. You felt the bed dip behind you and soon, his warm hands spread your legs apart. Your eyes slipped shut, relishing in his soft touches and the knowledge of what was to follow.

The tip of him swiped through your folds and you clenched. “C’mon, princess,” he coaxed you, one big hand squeezing your hip, “Relax. You know you want another load.”

The truth in his words made your cheeks heat up and you spread your legs further. Boba Fett was a large man and even though this was not the first time he had fucked you, your lungs still lost all breath when he pushed inside you.

“Fuck, you’re tight, princess,” he groaned, slowly continuing his advance. You could feel the come and the thought made you clench. You never thought you liked being messy. Turns out you loved being filthy.

At least for him.

It took only a moment until he was fully seated inside you and the feeling of completeness that filled you made you smile. “Look at you,” he whispered, leaning forward until his chest was plastered against your back, “Pretty princess really cannot get enough. No, she always wants another load in her pretty little pussy, hm?”

“Daddy,” you whined, resting your face on your cheek so he could kiss the one that was facing him, “I want your come. I was a good girl.”

A large hand landed next to your face and your eyes drifted over the swirling tattoos on his arm. Maybe one day you would ask him about them instead of staring at them and salivating when you watched him train.

“You are the best girl,” he agreed, “Best little slut that ever took my cock. You can fall asleep too, little one, that is why we’re doing this, isn’t it?” he mocked you, “Needed a big cock to fuck you to sleep.”

He continued moving, slow and steady, the movement making your clit throb.

“Yes,” you sighed, your words jumble in your mouth as you drifted off, “That is exactly what I needed.”

*

“What’s happening?“

You did not quite know what had awakened you because when you peeled your eyes open, the light on the nightstand was off. When had that happened? And why could you still make out the distinctly male figure of Boba in the room?

It took you a few too many seconds to realise that the sun had risen.

Boba was standing next to the bed. He didn’t look anything like last night. For one, he was dressed. Partially, at least. You blinked, your head feeling like melted icecream on the hot summer asphalt. He was pants but no shirt and you snuck your hand out of the warm cocoon of the blanket to reach out and touch him.

“Shh,” he murmured, leaning over you. His hand on your cheek was pure bliss and you forced your eyes to remain open even though it was so hard and you just wanted to sleep.

His mouth planted a soft kiss on your lips and you smiled, distantly noticing that he smelled fresh and showered. Was he leaving?

“Got a meeting this morning,” he whispered the answer to your mental questions, “Pre-training session, too.”

You hummed, frowning as you tried to get your brain to work. It had been so long since you had gotten a proper night of sleep, that you genuinely felt like you could use another 12-13 hours just to feel human again.

But maybe that was not what he wanted?

“Should I – “ you swallowed, “Do, uh, do you want me to leave?”

Boba’s answer was immediate.

“Hell no,” he murmured by your ear before pressing a kiss to your jaw. You loved him for keeping his voice low, his touches soft and if you had felt any braver, you would have asked him to stay.

“You finally got your sleep, princess, I'm not about to rob you of your well-deserved rest.”

“Well deserved, hm?” you smiled with your eyes closed, the

“Well-deserved indeed,” he chuckled, “My good girl deserves her rest.”

My good girl. That title should not make you feel as warm as it did, right?

You smiled, already drifting off again so you only faintly heard the door closing behind him before sleep took over again.

But the next time you woke up, several hours later judging by the position of the sun in the sky, it was to the sight of a hotel staff member arranging the biggest breakfast collection on the balcony.

Your phone lit up.

Bon appétit, princess.

[eerna]

so how's fourth wing so far :]

CHECK IN TIME! OK so I am on chapter 22, which is the 51% mark of the book. I continue to be disappointed, but now I have read enough of the book to know I'm not overreacting or judging too early.

Anachronisms continue to run rampant. At one point the MC uses the expression "Are our wires crossed?", which is an explicit reference to telephones, meaning this world has telephones but not pens. This could have easily been a modern fantasy and better for it, there is 0 reason for keeping it a historical setting.

I am on chapter 22 approximately because I actually accidentally fell asleep during Amber's trial and it was so insanely ridiculous I just signed off, and then rewinded to the beginning of the chapter when I woke up. Dain not believing his best freind in the entire world and a bunch of other people because "AMBER LOVES RULES TOO MUCH TO BREAK THEM!!" is one of the funniest scenes I've ever seen.

The characters.... Good lord literally everyone is just an empty shell of a person, someone who serves a certain role in the story and nothing else. It's been a while since I read a book where not a single character gave me anything to work with. That includes bad things I could complain about, or flaws. No one dares step a toe outside the stereotypical roles - wow, here's the Petite Delicate MC With Hidden Power, her Overprotective Childhood Best Friend (well ok he is depicted as bad in this one but more on that later), her Fun Extroverted New Best Friend, the Mysterious Brooding Dark Haired Bad Boy, the Evil Bitch, the Craaaaazy Murderous Competitor....... Like damn give me SOMETHING.

The deaths that people say raise the stakes and feel brutal and realistic are really funny to me because it is Super Obvious who is gonna be next to die. Why are we suddenly focusing on this random background character? Because they are gonna perish next page. Please pretend to be shocked when it happens. Rinse and repeat.

Ngl the "our dragons are mates and that means we are gonna be serving the army together for the rest of their lives also gotta learn how to work together" as a forced proximity method is an absolutely amazing idea. Too bad I feel nothing for this specific combination of characters.

The romance is so immature. It's not even SJM level relationship development. So Violet is in love with her childhood best friend, but then decides she doesn't want to be with him because there is no "spark" when they kiss. Not because he is controlling and belittles her and has no faith in her. Oh no. It's about how she can't even look at Xaden without getting horny!!!! It's about how she hates him as a person but his BODYYY WOWWWW YUMMMMM!!!! PLENTY of sparks!! At one point she describes his cousin and feels the need to specify the two look similar, but she is NOT physically attracted to him, which is just so funny. The book is still painfully straight and treats me to the "Big Burly Muscular Man and his Tiny Dainty Little Woman" shtick.

It's the EPITOME of those "imagine a book where..." tiktoks. Ohhhh the villain is KILLIN PEOPLE to SAVE THE MC even though she thought HE HATED HER..... Oooohhh he has DARK HAIR and ENCOURAGES HER TO BE STRONG....... Ooooooh the MC has bnded to THE STRONGEST DRAGON EVER and also HAS TWO BONDED DRAGONS which has NEVERRR HAPPENED BEFORE...... It feels like a collection of out-of-context quotes meant to be shown as a greenscreen backdrop while the reader pretends to be screaming into their hand in the foreground.

All in all. I am still not enraged angry the way some other books from the book club have made me, but we still haven't reached the smut so there's plenty of time for the nosedive. I'm just reading this and wondering why this specifically was chosen as the next Big Thing. What makes it special??? I see Nothing. Maybe I will find out if I keep going - I don't personally have to like it, but I'd like to figure out why so many other people do.

[mowiwow]

still here (modern ayn)

spoilers: spirit world ayn route

Your body moves before you can think.

You don’t wonder what time it is now, or think about the assignments you might have due, or about the people on campus who glance your way as you run out of your home blindly.

The campus all around you blurs as your feet hit the ground in a frenzied panic. There’s only one name repeating over and over in your mind—

Ayn.

Countless melodies are mixing in the hallway of the music building. Sounds of the french horn, violins, flutes, tubas, clarinets…

Piano.

But they’re not his piano.

Your heart drops inexplicably when you draw nearer to Ayn’s piano room and don’t hear him.

But he’s there.

Once you're closer, you see him through the window, pencil in hand as he writes something on his sheet music. You open the door without a second thought.

Ayn looks up when he hears the door opening and he—

He smiles when he sees you, smiles gently, fondly, carrying all of the affection the world has to offer just for you. His eyes curve slightly, and he murmurs your name.

“Ayn.”

Ayn’s smile immediately falls and he hurriedly gets up. He crosses the piano room to get to you and he reaches out to hold your shaking hand. He repeats your name, worriedly, as he closes the door behind you and pulls you further into the room.

It’s warm.

It’s warm, unlike the hand that had pressed your fingertips back down onto that blade forged from his spirit. In that moment, you see him again, and you can feel the warmth of the blood beneath your palms. You remember the feeling of the mist lightly brushing the palm of your hand before it coalesces into a red flower in his palm, reminiscent of an inextinguishable flame.

Your eyes sting, your throat grows tight, and you take Ayn’s hand holding yours and hold it tightly. When you see Ayn flinch a little, you loosen your grip and chew your bottom lip.

“Sorry,” you whisper.

In the next second, you’re embraced by the same warmth you had desperately tried to hold onto.

You really thought you’d exhausted all of your tears already.

But they fall, one after the other. You let yourself cry, your tears staining the shoulder that muffles your sobs. Everything comes rushing up again; the sorrow, the regret, the longing, the anger, the helplessness—

You cry, not just for him, but all of those who came before him.

The people you couldn’t save, both in the present and in the past. From Godheim, from Eden, and from your world.

“I’m tired,” you confess to him shakily, unable to steady your hands. You hold onto the fabric of his shirt, the only anchor you have in this very moment. “I— Am I— the people I’ve met, I… Ayn, Ayn, please…”

What do you want to say?

You’re not sure.

The words get all tangled up in your head, even though what you really want to say is a simple sentence.

“I’m here.”

Ayn’s voice is quiet and steady. The piano room is muted, and the only thing you can hear is Ayn’s strong, rhythmic heartbeat.

“Ayn.”

“Yeah.”

“Ayn.”

He hugs you tighter, his hair tickling you as he presses his cheek to yours. You can hear his hum right next to your ear.

“Ayn. Ayn, Ayn, Ayn…”

Don’t go.

Don’t leave, don’t try and protect those around you, don’t try to change the world, just stay here, don’t change—

You can’t utter any of those words.

It’s your own, selfish wish. A hypocritical request, when you know you’ve left Ayn suddenly in the past without any explanation.

Privately, you sometimes wonder what would’ve happened had you run away from it all.

If you hadn’t gone to that movie theatre with him. If you had decided to live a quiet, peaceful life and continue cuddling with Ayn that afternoon in the secret base.

But then you remember his smile. The flower blooming in his hand, the gift from you to the past him—

Had you decided to never continue down this path, you would’ve never had those experiences. The good, the bad, everything in between. You wouldn’t have laughed, cried, screamed— wouldn’t have felt the ticklish sensation of that Ayn nuzzling you in that bygone era.

But you also wouldn’t have felt the fear that drowns you, that suffocates you.

In that moment, as you watched that Ayn disappear, you couldn’t help but think about your Ayn.

Diligently practicing piano every day, napping and playing games when not. Pouting whenever you tease him, gently hooking your pinky finger with his in the lulls of life within the secret base shared between the two of you. The tangled limbs as a result of the two of you taking a nap together.

What would you do, if that were to all disappear one day?

With every world you visit, you think you’re starting to understand why your mother did what she did for you more and more.

This feeling of love choking you until your breaths come out as a stutter— you don’t mind it, don’t mind the pain you’ll have to endure as long as Ayn is safe. You wouldn't mind exchanging your life for his, if you could.

…But you can’t do that.

The two of you promised each other to share the burden.

You don’t want him to be in the dark, you want to tell him about yourself in exchange for what he’s told you about himself. You made that decision, during White Day, to tell him everything.

And—

You can't do that to him.

Not when he's lost his own mother. Not when he, too, is lonely just like you had been back when you were overcome with grief. Sometimes, in his secret base, you'll catch Ayn staring dazedly at the vinyl record player on one of his many shelves. In those moments, you always remember the conversation you had with him during the first new years you spent with him— you see Ayn searching through records as he tries to recover something he's forgotten from the distant past.

In many ways, he's still grieving for the loved one he's lost.

The grief never leaves, not fully. You would know.

You can't leave him, you can't, because that would be too cruel, too unfair to him. You don't know if you want to inflict onto him what that Ayn in that distant world inflicted onto you.

Conflicting feelings tangle in your chest.

“Ayn,” you murmur after a long period of silence. Your voice has grown hoarse from crying, and his shoulder has been soaked with your tears, but you can’t find it in yourself to pull away and recollect yourself. All you can do is repeat his name, like a broken record, whispering your affections to him in the form of the name you’ve grown to love saying.

“I’m still here.”

He is. And so are you.

Maybe that’s all you need for now.

Ayn is still here, and so are you.

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Hey I need to yell at you about Pack Play

First I wanna mention doppelgänger twice. I like him. He's basically the same as canon but I like him. Anyway, 

Once again your world building shines. Mating houses, what some wolves think of chew toys, the logistics of a rut room—love it love it love it

I know these two are probably a shade less platonic than a different pack would be, but I LOVE that the grooming and shared cycles ARE considered platonic. 

"Maybe, but you're my pack, And I take care of you." Delicious

The chuffing, dabi showing his stomach, shig nipping his throat, dabi WAITING FOR PERMISSION TO KEEP USING THE TOY!!! All the inhuman cues that show Dabi's submission are making me insane

And thinking about it from Shigs perspective??? The pretty, prickly alpha that probably challenged him at their first meeting now wants to be used so badly that he fucking goes limp???? And even better, it's because he trusts him?? 🥴🥴🥴

And don't get me wrong I love bitching, but this flavor of. Fuck idk. Domestic submission? Service kink? Wolves submitting to their leader no matter their dynamic, nearly got me skipping into work this morning

I'm curious about their biology in this too. Shig has a secondary sex, but dabi doesn't? Does that mean alphas are usually male and omegas female? Do pack dynamics change that, like could an omega be the alpha of a pack?

FEELING LIKE SHIG MATED HIM WITH THE CHEW TOY??????!!!!!!!! EEEEEEEE I AM SCREAMING LIKE A TEA KETTLE. IT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE THAT THEY'D GET LIKE A HORMONE RUSH FROM THE SCENT OF BLOOD WHILE FUCKING!!!

Thank you to whoever commissioned this, and of course to you tanco!!!

ehehehe thank you for yelling!

I know I talk about fics re-writing my brain chemistry, but god damn did this one fucking do that too! I had such a good time exploring a different interpretation of werewolf lore!

Shig was definitely losing it to his instincts to see Dabi displaying such perfect submission when, up to this point, he'd barely acknowledged him as his pack, let alone his alpha. It definitely made everything a little less platonic on his end right from the jump!

Yeessss, I really like this concept of pack dynamics for a world where secondary sexes aren't really a thing anymore. Like this is a world where ABO dynamics existed a very long time ago, but they were bred out of the population because they weren't as strong as just having synced cycles and pack-mating (especially for turned packs, which usually outnumber born packs). If there were male omegas/female alphas, they wouldn't exist in this day and age. And the holdovers of ABO traits are very mild, like with Shig who can just continue having a knot through his whole cycle, it's not that much of a difference to a normal male wolf like Dabi (even his thought that Shig's cycle would last longer, ended up being an incorrect assumption because they ended at the same time). On the other side, female wolves who have traces of Omega still in them might produce more slick that smells more strongly, but that's about it. It's not a notable difference and in a few more generations, these traits will likely be eradicated completely because they don't have a real biological/evolutionary advantage in modern society. These holdovers are entirely biological, and don't impact pack dynamics! Wolves of any sex or gender can be alphas, but there aren't pack omegas or betas, "alpha" now just refers to the leader of the group, and no one identifies as having a secondary sex in wolf society.

The psychosexual impact of having that smell and the fake flesh in their mouths nearly made the two of them feral, and we love that for them!! You bet your ass that the next time their cycle hits, they're going to be out there taking chomps out of each other's throats until their scents are so tangled that they'll give any other wolf/pret a headache if they are within a five-mile radius of them.

Thank you so much for commenting!

[emoani]

Pairing: anakin!modern x f!reader warnings: mention of depression, emotional health, self-harm, antidepressants and other medications

n/a: I don't know if anyone will like this story, but I write it with a lot of affection and feeling since it's all very personal to me. in a way anakin/hayden also "saved" me like with reader, and has been saving me every day. just remembering that english is not my first language, so sorry for the mistakes. Good reading!

ps: can you imagine ani like in that factory girl movie, only older

Sea: Prologue

It was a Wednesday. The day was too cold for the season, and the icy wind ached against my body. Maybe that happened because my body was hurt and full of bruises... Which I made myself.

I was looking at the sea, and the waves that seemed to move kind of slowly. Maybe they weren't moving that slowly, it was just my brain messed up because I had taken more meds than my shrink ordered.

I wasn't sure what I wanted. I took the medicine hoping to get back to reality, just control myself and not get to where I am now.

I really didn't want to die, but I didn't know if I wanted to live either. I didn't want to live like this, always suffering.

I didn't know who I was anymore. What do I want to study? What do I want to work with? Do I like the way I look this way or should I make a radical change?

Thinking is exhausting. The thought of continuing here is exhausting. Sometimes memories are the worst kind of torture. That was why I found myself here on this beach, in a different country (which I had moved to study, but after so many absences I had to drop out of college).

Without looking at anything beyond that blue immensity, which seemed to be as big as my sadness, I started to take my first steps. I shivered with the icy water, and as soon as the first wave hit me, my tears began to fall out of control.

I didn't even know that from afar he saw everything. In a situation so different from mine, a little away in that calm and empty place, a celebrity trying to escape the hectic life and the paparazzi, smoked a cigarette while looking at the sea (until saw myself in that situation).

I only realized that I wasn't alone when I heard his footsteps in the water, catching up with me so fast that my weak, sad body couldn't even respond in time to pull away.

He grabbed me by the arm and started dragging me towards the sand.

- Who are you, you crazy? Let go of me - I screamed completely out of control feeling my body tremble.

- I'm just a guy trying to prevent a woman from doing something stupid! He answered me firmly, his eyes looked at me seriously as if he were a father scolding a daughter. And anyone looking from afar might even think it was, since he was certainly older than me. Older and very handsome too.

- Go mind your own business and let me go! – I complained.

But as soon as we got out of the water he let go of me and I ended up on the ground, looking at him indignantly because of his ignorance. But I couldn't complain, I had asked him to let me go. I straightened up still sitting and could observe him better: all in black, a cap hid his face.

- Are you a famous or a thug? – I grumbled loudly.

This situation was so stupid that it was funny. All this time I was here, I had only been able to see an artist if I paid for a show, like anywhere else in the world. But it was somewhat ironic, well now in this situation find a possible celebrity.

- Is this important now? – He asked looking troubled, as if I were, I don't know, a fan of his – Tell me, did you take any drugs?

- Yeah, I'm a drug addict. Can not you see? – I scoffed, as I got up and cleaned all that sand from my clothes. I hated the beach.

He took a few steps back, avoiding contact.

- I'm serious. I need to take you to the hospital. You can't even stand up straight.

He was right. I was high on drugs.

- What a fucking hospital – I denied it without bothering to show politeness – Do you see any injuries here? I don't have money to go to the hospital for anything.

- Yes, I do - he replied, looking me up and down. But not in a malicious way, he seemed to analyze me in a sinister way.

- And is? Where? – I asked, looking at my own body.

- You're very hurt... Inside.

next chapter: coming soon

[thebabblingbrookenook]

The Viscount Who Loved Me Too Much - Part 3

Pairings: Anthony Bridgerton x Hyacinth Bridgerton , Anthony Bridgerton x Violet Bridgerton, Anthony Bridgerton x Female Reader

Summary: Modern AU - A continuation of The Viscount Who Loved Me Too Much Part 1 and Part 2 . This chapter changes from Reader’s POV to Anthony’s in an effort to give us a little more insight into what’s going on with our Viscount. While Anthony grapples with the depths of his feelings for his Reader, Violet calls on Anthony for a favor. His sister needs his help.

Warnings: Not really anything to warn you about. If you are afraid of emotional growth and cheeky banter, then look away lol

Word Count: 5.1K

Author’s Note: @colettebronte is a beta - reading hero! Shout out to my Discord friends for helping me with fun ideas for this installment. I do plan to continue this story for as long as it makes sense to do so. Bear with me!

_________________________________________

Six weeks, four days, and some odd hours…

Apparently that was the length of time in which it took Anthony Bridgerton to fall in love. He knew when she awkwardly approached him in the bar that night and stumbled her way through an attempt at flirting that she was going to be important in his life. What he didn’t realize was that she would be the one to remind him of all the things that made life worth living.

She was a survivor. She fought relentlessly for her life - kicking, screaming, and clawing her way to the happiness she deserved. She was a marvel, and he constantly stood in awe of her. She made him want more than to merely exist. She made him aware of every ounce of joy he had been missing over the past year, but she also felt like his promise for a redemption of the time lost.

As he sat smiling at the ridiculous photo she just sent him of herself, he caught himself saying it aloud. It came as naturally as hushing Benedict’s sarcastic teasing, or sighing at his mother’s affectionate meddling. It was as if the words belonged on his lips. Light and free, with a huff of laughter he declared, “God, I love her.”

It was probably still a bit too soon for him to shout it from the rooftops for all to hear, but he knew it was true. He loved her, and eventually he would gain the courage to tell her so. Until then, he would revel in every second she allowed him to spend in her presence, every day adding new truths to his list of reasons to love her. 

He was about to respond to her cheeky midday text when his phone started buzzing, flashing a picture of his mother across the screen.

“Hello mother,” he answered.

“Oh, hello darling!” she beamed. “I wasn’t expecting you to answer. I’m not bothering you, am I?”

“Not yet,” he teased. “But it’s only a matter of time.”

“You wound me, son. I don’t know where I went wrong in raising you.”

A warmth that he associated with childhood started to bloom in his chest. Violet Bridgerton had a million admirable qualities, but chief among them was her playful sense of humor. “My apologies, Lady Bridgerton. How can I possibly make amends?”

“Oh, good! I’m glad you asked.” she said without missing a beat. “Are you busy today? I wasn’t sure if you were working from home or the office.”

“Bex informed me this morning that my afternoon meeting was canceled, so I took the rest of the day. I have plans later this evening with…” he paused, unsure if he was ready to share her with anyone else just yet. “... with a friend. Other than that, I’m at your disposal. Is everything all right?”

“Yes, everything is fine. I was just wondering if you could collect Hyacinth for me. The school called. It seems she isn’t feeling well and needs to be sent home. I would go, but I’m on my way to a bridal boutique with Daphne at the moment. Genevieve Delacroix is having a trunk show and your sister has her heart set on one of her dresses. Simon, the dearheart, set up an appointment with the designer as a surprise.”

Anthony shook his head at his friends' over-the-top gesture. Leave it to Simon to find new ways to spoil Daphne beyond belief. It was hard for Anthony to see Daphne as a woman who was ready for marriage, and not as a tiny, bossy little girl that followed her brothers everywhere they went. But if it had to be someone, he was glad it was Simon that his baby sister deemed worthy enough to trust with her heart. 

“Of course I will. She must really be sick to call home. That kid would sooner die than admit defeat.” Worry started to take root in his chest. He knew it was perfectly normal for kids to get sick from time to time, but Hyacinth was such a steady, constant little thing. She never wavered from her determined strength. At least not where the prying eye could see.

“Thank you, Anthony.” Violet sighed with appreciation. “Give her a kiss for me and tell her I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

“I don’t know about all that, but I’ll certainly let her know she crossed your mind.”

Violet huffed her reply. “What have I done to deserve such an obstinate child?”

Anthony found himself laughing again. It felt good. “God clearly thought you needed a challenge since the rest of your brood would prove to be so easy. I’m honored to be the one assigned the task of keeping you sharp. I think I’ve done a great job so far.”

“You’ve done a great job of making me old, that’s what you’ve done. When do you think you might retire?” she asked lovingly.

“As soon as you stop meddling and insisting that you know what’s best for me.”

“So, never.” she quipped.

“Have fun with Daph today, and try not to worry about Hyacinth. I’ll take care of it.” he promised, directing the conversation to a close.

“I know,” she replied, her voice steeped in motherly love. “You always do. Thank you, dear. I love you.”

“You too,” he returned, discomfort settling in his shoulders. He still had a hard time hearing those words when they were meant for him. He didn’t deserve them. Too much had happened. He failed too many people to be awarded that privilege. Especially his mother…

“Oh, and Anthony… One more thing before you go,” her voice took on the chastising quality that only a mother could master. “When are you going to introduce me to the lovely young woman you’ve been so clearly infatuated with for the last few weeks?”

“How did you...” he questioned with shock.

“Oh, come now Anthony. A mother always knows.” He could hear the victorious smile in her voice. “Plus, you’ve been walking around all sneaky and secretive like a fourteen year old boy. It was either a woman, or I’m about to get a call from your old headmaster claiming that he caught you bringing farm animals into the school again.”

He desperately wanted to change the subject. “Priorities, mother. Hyacinth needs me. We can talk about this later.”

“I agree. We’ll talk tomorrow. I’ll be at the office to meet with the barristers regarding the foundation. You can take me to lunch.” That was that. She hung up the phone before he had the chance to protest. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Hyacinth Bridgerton sat in uncharacteristic silence while she waited with the school nurse for what she had hoped would be a quick rescue. What was taking her mother so long to get here? Didn’t she know that being the baby of the family granted Hyacinth the right to be the center of her mother’s universe? What could she possibly be doing right now that would keep her from rushing to her aid?

“Hyacinth,” the nurse prodded. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather lie down? You look a bit too pale for my liking.”

“I’m fine,” she lied. 

She wasn’t fine at all. She was in the worst pain she had ever felt in her life. All she wanted was to go home and crawl up for a good cry. She wouldn’t break down here. Not with someone watching. She would hold it all together until she was in private. She was a Bridgerton - weakness didn’t run in their blood. She had seen Anthony do it a hundred times. He was a master at taming his own emotions until the time was right. If he could do it, so could she. 

Although, she doubted her brother ever had to deal with anything equal to likes of this. It was excruciating and horrifying. There was a good chance she was dying. She didn’t know how much longer she had left. Hopefully her mother made it in time.

A knock wrapped on the door and the secretary popped her head inside with a smile. “Miss Bridgerton, your father is here to take you home.”

Hyacinth’s lungs forgot how to breathe. Father… this was obviously a mistake. Maybe they meant to collect the young girl in the corner with her face hunched over a bucket. “I think you may have the wrong student. My mother is coming for me.”

“No,” the annoyingly chipper woman replied. “He asked for you by name. Grab your things and follow me. I’ll walk you out to him.”

They walked in silence through the corridor. Hyacinth only remained upright through sheer force of will. She was already preparing her “I told you so” speech when realization hit. And with that realization came dread. There was currently only one person that someone would mistake as her father…

Her nightmare was confirmed when they rounded the corner to find Anthony anxiously awaiting her arrival. He rose to his feet the second he saw her approaching, worry widening his soulful eyes. It was strange to see him here. Actually, it was strange to see him at all. She tried not to hold his absence against him. This had been one of the hardest years for their family. Especially for Anthony. And she understood her brother. She knew why he distanced himself. She knew he needed the space to rebuild in solitude. But she missed him, and she couldn’t help feeling a little like he’d abandoned her. 

“Hyacinth,” he fretted, scanning her over from head to toe. “Are you okay? Do you want me to take you to the doctor?”

“No!” she panicked. “No doctors. Just take me home please.”

“Of course,” he said softly before taking her backpack from her shoulder and slinging it over his own. It was a small but sweet gesture that left her eyes misty. He was somehow both the last and exact person she wanted here with her right now.

She was relieved to see that he had opted to drive himself instead of taking his driver. She didn’t need anymore witnesses to her impending meltdown. 

Hyacinth could feel him eyeing her cautiously from the driver’s seat as they made their way through traffic. “You’re staring, Anthony.”

“I’m just worried. You never get sick. Your face is as white as a sheet and you look like you’re about to puke all over my car.”

“Well knock it off,” she scowled. “I’m fine.”

He scoffed, irritating her even more. “You’ve always been a horrible liar Hyacinth. You’re allowed to not feel well. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s none of your business Anthony. Just take me home so you can get back to whatever it is you were doing before I inconvenienced you.” She regretted her words the moment she saw the hurst flash across his face.

“I’ve never thought you were an inconvenience Hyacinth. Not even once. Now will you please tell me what’s wrong? I can stop at the store before we get to the house and pick up some medicine if you need.”

“My stomach hurts, okay. Now can we please drop this?” she wasn’t above begging him. 

“Alright, well I’ll just pop into Waitrose and grab you some ginger ale,” he offered.

He was only trying to take care of her, but she was irrationally angry at him. She just wanted him to stop talking and drive her home so she could die in peace.

“It’s not that kind of stomach ache, Ant. I don’t need ginger ale.”

“Okay, then maybe I ca-” she cut him off before he could provide another option.

“Ughhh! If I tell you what’s wrong will you shut up?” When he nodded his concession she took a deep breath and went on. “I got my period today in front of my entire gym glass. Marcy Fisher told everyone I was a freak and to stay away from me if they didn’t want it to happen to them too.”

From the look on his face, Hyacinth was sure that she’d thoroughly traumatized her eldest brother. He squirmed uncomfortably in his seat before he responded. “But… you’re only twelve. You’re still… so small. Are you certain?”

She rolled her eyes at his very male reaction. “I’m pretty freaking sure, Anthony. I’m not a baby anymore. According to Eloise, this means I’m a woman now.”

“Oh, God,” he groaned. “Please don’t say that. I’m not ready.”

“I hate to break it to you, but you better buckle up brother, because this is happening. It hurts, it’s disgusting, I’m mortified, and I really don’t want to talk about this anymore. Especially not with you.” 

“Do you want me to ring mum?” he asked desperately. 

“No!” she screeched. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone else. Swear it, Anthony!”

“Alright, alright! I swear it. Relax.” He had to restrain from wincing at the glare she shot him.

“Good,” she sighed. Some of the tension visibly left her body with the knowledge of their pact. “The last thing I need is Gregory finding out. I’d never hear the end of it.”

Anthony drove on in silence. He knew this was a big day for his littlest sister, and he was trying his best to not react poorly. He was not the right person to be handling this. Almost anyone else would be more well suited. He had to assume that his mother wouldn’t have sent him if she knew what was really going on with her daughter. This was the kind of thing he would normally call Benedict for help with. He always seemed to know what to do where their sisters were concerned. He had a much more delicate touch than Anthony. But he couldn’t call Benedict. He couldn’t call anyone. Hyacinth had forbidden it, and he didn’t want to face the tiny girl’s wrath if he ignored her wishes. 

His plan was to just keep his head down long enough to get her home and then wait for his mother to arrive so he could slip out undetected. Yes, that was the plan. Sit down, shut up, avoid disappointing her. That is until he heard the muffled sniffles coming from the other side of the car.

He could never stand to see Hyacinth cry. It never failed to render him useless. All he wanted was to comfort her, but he didn’t always know how. It was a lot easier when she was four and just crawled into his lap for a hug. It was easy to chase away what scared her when he could just pick her up and remove her from the danger all together. But now… what did he do now?

“Hyacinth…” he treaded carefully.

Thankfully, she let him in without a fight. “How am I supposed to face them all tomorrow, Anthony? Marcy Fisher said…”

Anger boiled behind his eyes when he identified the source of his sister’s tears. “Marcy Fisher is a snot-nosed spoiled brat with a father that can’t find a job with a salary large enough to support his coke habit and a mum who is so vapid that she has to pay people to be her friend. Marcy Fisher can piss off. You’ll face those kids the same way you do every day - as a Bridgerton.”

Her responding laughter was contagious until it turned into painful sobs without warning. Alarm bells sounded in his head as he began backpedaling. “Shit, what have I said?! I’m sorry Hy, please don’t cry. You don’t even have to go to school tomorrow if you don’t want to.”

She shook her head, gathering herself. “It’s not you. Well, it is, but not in a bad way. I just forgot how much you get me sometimes. Sorry, I’m really tired and probably sound like a blubbering idiot. How embarrassing.”

“Just hang in there,” he assured her. “We’re almost home.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Anthony was sure Hyacinth was ready to be rid of him, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave her. Once they reached the house she had immediately gone for a shower and insisted that she didn’t need anything else from him. She claimed everything else could wait until their mother got home, but he didn’t think it was right that she should have to wait for what she needs just because he might be a little uncomfortable. 

There were a lot of things over the years that he fucked up when it came to Hyacinth. She needed a father but she got him instead - a disappointment since she took her first breath. There was probably loads yet that he would surely get wrong, but this he could do. 

Or so he thought…

He stood frozen with indecision in the middle of the feminine care aisle of their local pharmacy. There were so many options to choose from. How was he supposed to know which ones to pick?!

An understanding laugh pulled him from the ledge of his looming panic. “You’ve got the terrified look of a first time dad. Need some help?”

Anthony met the eyes of the kind stranger with gratitude. The man looked to be well into his fifties and reminded him unsettlingly of his father. “Please… I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Everyone’s gotta start somewhere,” the man said, clapping him on the shoulder. “How old is your daughter?”

“She’s twelve,” he sighed. “She’s only twelve. That seems too early, doesn’t it?”

“One of my girls was ten,” the man confided. “You were lucky. You got a couple extra years of normalcy. It will be like riding lightning from here on out.”

Anthony watched in amazement as the man picked up items from the shelf and set them into the basket in his trembling hand. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” he smiled. “If I were you, I’d toss in some ibuprofen and some sweets. And anything else that might make her feel loved.”

He could do that. He loved buying Hyacinth things that made her smile. She always rewarded him with hugs. “Thank you again. I would have been standing here all day if you hadn’t come along.”

The man instilled one last piece of wisdom before taking his leave. “Just remember, you’re never doing as bad as you think. And hold on tight for as long as she’ll let you.”

~~~~~~~~~~

When Hyacinth came out of the shower, bundled in the coziest sweats she could find, Anthony was gone. She was equally disappointed and relieved. Being with her brother always made her feel special. He looked at her like she was his most treasured possession. Like a tiny, delicate gemstone that he wanted to protect at all costs. But he also hovered and fussed. And his keen observation skills made it way harder to get away with cheeky activities. Sometimes the authority that he carried made it hard for her to just relax. There was always that lingering fear of seeing disenchantment dull his warm eyes. 

It was hard for Hyacinth to be around him when he was sad. She could feel the effort it took him to present himself as having it all together. He might be able to fool other people, but not her. Everyone else believed that mask because that’s what they wanted to see, but the truth was in his eyes. He was tired. Life hadn’t been pulling its punches lately, and her invincible big brother was dancing with defeat. It made her angry. She knew that wasn’t fair - he wasn’t perfect. The pedestal she placed him on was always unsustainable, she knew that. She just wasn’t ready for how it would feel to see him as a normal person and not the hero the little girl in her remembered so clearly.

She had noticed a change in him lately though. He smiled a little easier, his body looked stronger - he wasn’t as fragile. She didn’t know what happened to make him feel more like himself again, but whatever it was, she was grateful.

She had just climbed under the comforting fabric of her plush blanket when she heard the knocking on her bedroom door. Anthony poked his head in before she could answer.

“Hyacinth, are you in here?” his eyes searched the room before finally landing on the Hyacinth shaped lump under the covers.

“You came back,” she stated, happiness tugging the corners of her mouth toward the sky.

“I know you wanted to be alone, but I’ve brought you some things.” He took a tentative step into the room.

Heat rushed to the tops of Hyacinth’s cheeks. “You went shopping for me?”

“I wasn’t sure what all you would need, so I just bought one of everything.” He handed her the large paper bag he clutched nervously. “There are also some sweets in there. I got those little Battenbergs you like. And those disgusting Monster Munch crisps you fancy so much.”

Her eyes lit up. “Roast Beef flavored?!”

His face grimaced as he shook off his distaste. “Yes, but I beg you to wait to eat those until after I’ve left. I don’t know how you stomach the smell.”

She stuck her tongue out at him before continuing to dig through the bag. “Good God, Anthony! How much did you buy? I’m only one person.”

Her throat tightened with the effort to hold in a fresh wave of tears. She had just managed to stop crying and refused to start up again. A few salty droplets slipped past her defenses as she cataloged the contents of her care package. He had put so much thought into it. The image of him scowling at shelves of feminine hygiene products made her laugh. He really had thought of everything - snacks, medicine, a heating pad. There was even an adorable stuffed bumble bee. 

She felt the bed dip slightly when he sat down next to her. His anxious expression caught her attention before he spoke. “Hyacinth…” he paused, mindlessly rubbing his thumb over something concealed in his palm. “I know I haven’t been very present lately, and I’m sorry. It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with my own shortcomings.”

He extended his hand to her, revealing the antique gold pocket watch their father had given him. “Father’s watch?” she asked, confusion coloring her features.

“Open it,” he encouraged.

Gently, she clicked the delicate latch to display the same intricate clock face she’d seen a thousand times before. Tucked safely within the opposite side was a worn photo. A young Anthony holding…

“That’s us,” he confirmed. “The day you were born. You were so small… and loud.”

“Ha. Ha.” she deadpanned. “Why do you keep it here?”

As if the answer was obvious, he simply stated, “So that I’ll always have it with me.” Sensing she needed more, he went on, “My whole life changed that day. I was nineteen - young, dumb, and aimless. But then there you were, and suddenly I had a purpose. So I keep it with me as a reminder for when I get a little lost.”

His knuckle brushed against her cheek, wiping away a runaway tear. “You are not an inconvenience. You never have been. And I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you feel that way. I’ll do better, I promise.”

There was no stopping the free-falling emotions that cascaded down her face. She was moving towards him before she had a chance to think better of it. Climbing into his lap, she wrapped her arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder. He didn’t speak. He held her close, stroking her hair in reassurance, giving her space to feel.

When she calmed down, she pulled away, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her oversized hoodie. Anthony stood, smoothing out his now ruffled clothing. “I’ll leave you alone now,” he said with a smile.

The moment he turned to leave Hyacinth realized that’s not what she wanted at all. “Or… you could stay. Do you want to binge watch Love Island with me?!”

“Love Island?!” He was appalled. “Hyacinth, that is absolute trash TV. Utter brain rot.”

“Exactly,” she beamed. “That’s the appeal. Come on, Anthony. You can hate- watch it and complain the whole time. You know how much you love criticizing stupid people.”

Hyacinth lifted her blanket, inviting him to crawl in next to her. She laughed at his exasperated huff before he gave in and kicked off his shoes.

“Fine,” he conceded.

“Awesome,” she grinned victoriously. It was unnerving how much she looked like their mother when she looked at him like that. “Can we UberEats some McDonalds, too?!”

She had him right where she wanted him and she knew it. “Might as well,” he said, handing her his phone. “Garbage food to go with our garbage show.”

Even though he would rather pluck his eyes out than watch this show, he was content to just be here. Happy even. It was a moment worth remembering. Taking the phone she was handing back to him, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his side. “Come here. I think we need an updated picture, don’t you?”

“Let me see,” she demanded. “If I look awful you have to delete it.”

“Whatever you say, your highness,” he chuckled softly.

“Aww! I love it,” she approved, sending the photo to herself. “You’re smiling.”

Anthony stared down at the photo contemplatively. She was right, it turned out nicely. He already knew the exact spot he wanted to place it on his desk.

The time on his phone caught his attention. It was already two o’clock and he was supposed to pick his girl up for dinner at half past six. He had been looking forward to seeing her all day but he didn’t want to cut his time with Hyacinth short.

Texting her the picture of him and his sister, he asked:

Anthony: Would you be opposed to pushing dinner back until 8:00? I’m on big brother duty.

She sent him back a gif of a cartoon cat with heart eyes.

Trouble: That is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. We can reschedule for tomorrow if you want to spend the evening with your family. I don’t mind.

Anthony: I mind. I mind a lot. I want to see you. I’ve been thinking about it since I woke up this morning.

Trouble: Forget dinner, come straight to my place. I’ll feed you.

Anthony: What’s on the menu?

Trouble: Me.

He didn’t realize he had laughed out loud until Hyacinth asked, “What’s her name?”

“Who,” he played dumb, praying she hadn’t caught a glimpse at those texts.

Hyacinth rolled her eyes. “The girl that’s got you smiling like that. Duh.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s no girl,” he sidestepped. “And I’m not smiling.”

“You’re so smiling. Have you told her yet?” she prodded.

“Told her what?” He realized his mistake a moment too late.

“HA! So there is a girl! I knew it.” She poked him playfully.

“God, you’re nosy. Maybe even worse than Eloise.”

“That is the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me Anthony. But flattery doesn’t distract me for long. Soooo….?” she waited with unyielding patience for him to answer.

“Sooo?” he mimicked.

“Did you tell her yet?” She was relentless.

“Tell her?” Really though, what was she on about?

“That you love her…” 

His breath caught in his throat. “I… what? No…”

“But you do,” it wasn’t a question this time.

“Hyacinth…” he warned.

“Okay, okay. Will you at least tell me her name?” 

He took a minute to consider it. Was he ready? The bubble they existed in was fun and safe. Pressure free. The moment he let someone else in, it would raise the stakes. But isn’t that what he wanted - something real? She deserved that. 

“I’ll tell you, but this information is just for you. Understood?” She hooked her little finger around his in a silent promise. “Her name is Y/N.”

“Y/N…” she repeated. “She sounds beautiful.”

Anthony watched his sister with fascination as her eyes came alive with the romantic imagination that only existed inside the mind of a twelve year old girl.

Maybe one day he would remember how to see the world that way again too.

~~~~~~~~~~

Two hours later, Anthony found himself fully immersed in the exploitative debauchery that was Love Island. Hyacinth had fallen asleep about thirty minutes into the first episode, now drooling safely on his chest, and left him to navigate the shallow dramas of the contestants’ lives. He’d never admit it out loud, but he could understand why someone might find their antics entertaining. It was so far removed from reality it was nearly impossible to look away.

He was about to make his predictions for this episode when there was a knock on the door.

“Hyacinth?” Violet called, opening the door. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

“Sshhh,” Anthony whispered. “She’s asleep.”

“Darling,” she greeted him warmly. “You’re still here. I thought you’d be gone by now. I thought you had plans, I didn’t mean to keep you from them.”

He waved off her concern. “It’s okay, I rescheduled. Besides, I think I’m right where I belong.”

“How is she,” Violet asked, feeling Hyacinth’s forehead with the back of her hand.

“I’ll let her tell you about it when she wakes up. She’s had a long day, but I think she’s hanging in there.” He smiled down at his snoring sister.

“I can see that,” his mother remarked as she observed the discarded candy wrappers littered across the bed. Her face transformed when she took in the sight of her children cuddled together so sweetly. “She misses you, you know?”

“I know,” he hung his head, averting his mother’s eyes. “I should have come sooner.”

Gentle fingers pushed his hair away from his face. “Well, you’re here now. That’s what matters.”

“Yeah. I guess…” It still felt like too little, too late. He had a lot to make up for, but this was a good place to start.

A stream of expletives sounded over the tv speakers when two of the contestants realized a betrayal. Violet turned her attention to the screen. “For God’s sake, Anthony! What on Earth are you watching? I hope you didn’t let your sister watch this rubbish. Those women are hardly wearing any clothes!”

“Really,” he smirked. “I hadn’t noticed.”

He got the exact reaction he was aiming for. 

“Hush,” she reprimanded before turning off the tv and leaving the room.

The room was silent now, the only sound was Hyacinth's steady breathing. He felt himself relax into the soft pillowy mattress. His lids began to droop, his mind slowed to a blissful hum.

He had been out in the cold for so long. It was good to be home…

_____________________________________

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