#but there were also only (11) slots so

[no1ryomafan]

Yesterday I got a acrylic stand of artwork of the “what am I fighting for” scene-which for the record; I think that scene has been very much beaten into the ground as a meme, but I couldn’t pass off getting it bc it be funny to have and someone would easily recognize it’s mega man x if they came to my house lol-and my friend who I was out with who has seen the scene before despite knowing most mega man stuff from me thought it was from an anime adaptation of MMX but I laugh and go “oh no that was in the actual game, it was a animated cutscene”

And then I cry inside knowing we never got a proper anime for any of the platformer games despite the fact MMX felt like it desperately needed one- oh and classic and zx were SUPPOSED to get animes but shit fucking happened that cause them to be scrapped.

[prokopetz]

Code Green

A game for 3–7 players, about being where you're not supposed to be.

Last night, you were suspended in a tube of brightly coloured goo in an underground research facility, operated by an organisation whose three-letter initialism's meaning is strictly need-to-know. This morning, someone noticed your tube was empty. Nobody has determined how that happened yet, and you're not inclined to stick around until they figure it out!

Or, in other words, it's been nearly a whole week since I got that massive revision to Space Gerbils out the door, and apparently my brain has decided that's enough of a break. This thing was written start to finish in under 12 hours, so let the circumstances of its authorship guide your expectations. Special thanks go once again to Caro Asercion, whose micro-RPG Dwindle introduced me to the design space I'm fucking around with here. Go buy their stuff.

Anyway:

What You'll Need

Code Green is a tabletop RPG for one game moderator (GM) and up to six players. Each player will need a copy of the Profile Grid, below, as well as three tokens of some sort: dice, coins, beads, etc. You'll also need at least five six-sided dice (for the whole group, not per player, though it's fine if each player has their own set). If you're using dice for tokens, it's recommended that the dice you plan to roll be visually distinguishable in case they land on someone's Profile Grid.

Rolling Dice

There are two ways you'll be asked to roll dice in this game: rolling d66, and rolling a dice pool.

To roll d66, roll a six-side die twice, reading the first roll as the "tens" place and the second roll as the "ones" place, yielding a number in the range from 11 to 66. For example, if you rolled a 3 and then a 5, your result is 35. You may also be asked to flip a d66 roll; to do this, take your result and swap the digits without re-rolling. In the preceding example, if you flipped your roll of 35, your new result would be 53.

To roll a dice pool, pick up the indicated number of six-side dice, roll them, and take the highest individual result. Duplicates have no special significance. For example, if you rolled a pool of three dice and got a 2, a 4, and a 4, your result would be 4. If you would ever roll a pool of zero or fewer dice, roll two dice and take the lowest instead.

Character Creation

Each player should create their own character. There are three things about your character which are always true:

You are newly born into the world. You may know things about the world (e.g., from your programming, having read them on a computer terminal, etc.), but you haven't experienced them.

You are implausibly good at remaining inconspicuous; unless you're deliberately drawing attention or doing something which requires a dice roll, humans will almost always fail to spot you.

You are not human. You can decide what that means.

To find out what else is true about your character, roll or choose three times from the Form table, and three times from the Function table, placing your results into the correspondingly labelled slots on the Profile Grid, below, in any order you please. Your three results from each table should be different; if you elected to roll and get the same entry multiple times, flip your result, and re-roll if it's still a duplicate.

Think about what your three Form traits and three Function traits imply about your character's physical makeup, but don't set anything in stone just yet – you'll see why not in a moment.

Finally, roll a six-sided die five times, and record the results in the order in which they're received. The resulting five-digit number is the only name your character has when play begins.

Table 1: Form (d66)

11–12. Blood 13–14. Bones 15–16. Brain 21–22. Claws 23–24. Ears 25–26. Eyes 31–32. Guts 33–34. Hands 35–36. Heart 41–42. Hair 43–44. Legs 45–46. Lungs 51–52. Nose 53–54. Skin 55–56. Tail 61–62. Teeth 63–64. Tongue 65–66. Wings

Table 2: Function (d66)

11–12. Accelerated 13–14. Autonomous 15–16. Auxiliary 21–22. Cryogenic 23–24. Cryptic 25–26. Elastic 31–32. Electric 33–34. Entropic 35–36. Invasive 41–42. Invulnerable 43–44. Kinetic 45–46. Magnetic 51–52. Phasing 53–54. Polymorphic 55–56. Projectile 61–62. Pyrogenic 63–64. Telescopic 65–66. Toxic

Playing the Game

Play proceeds in a series of scenes. In each scene, the GM will set the stage: a challenge to overcome, a peril to escape, a mystery to investigate, etc. Given the nature of your characters, most things will be mysteries to you!

Initial Token Placement

Once the stage has been set, place each of your three tokens on a different square on your Profile Grid. If you have no preference, you can roll d66 for each token and place it in the square whose marked numeric range contains the number you rolled, flipping or re-rolling your result if you get a square which already contains a token. The placement of these tokens represents your initial state when the scene opens. Depending on the nature of your character, this may be reflected by a shifting of internal focus, or by a physical transformation.

Participation

To participate in the scene, simply tell the GM what your character does; the GM will describe how the world responds, and ask what you do next. Whenever you wish – or are forced – to do something more than lurk and observe, you are obliged to make a test.

Making Tests

To make a test, first choose a pair of traits – one Form trait, and one Function trait – with which to face the challenge. For example, if your Form traits are Legs, Tail and Teeth, and your Function traits are Cryptic, Invulnerable and Phasing, you might test your Invulnerable Legs against the trouble at hand.

Next, count the number of tokens present in the rows extending from each of the chosen traits. The illustration below shows which squares would be consulted in the preceding example:

Next, roll a dice pool containing a number of dice equal to the number of tokens present on squares extending from the chosen traits. Do not count a token twice if it's on the square where the two traits intersect (e.g., the green square in the illustration above). In the event that no tokens fall on squares extending from appropriate traits, remember that you are allowed to roll a pool of zero dice by rolling two dice and taking the lowest rather than the highest.

Finally, compare your result to the following table:

1–3. Less than human. Whatever you'd intended to try still happens, but it cannot overcome human opposition (or adversity which would challenge a typical human), and any lasting effects are transitory and easily explained away. 4–5. Mostly human. Your effort can contend with human opposition (or circumstances which would challenge a competent human), and its lasting effects make it obvious that someone (or something) has been interfering with matters. 6. More than human. Your effort easily brushes aside any human opposition, and its lasting effects are impossible to rationalise as anything other than the intervention of inhuman forces.

Without Applicable Traits

In the event that you're forced to make a test and no possible pairing of your traits is applicable, you don't get to roll anything, not even with a pool of zero dice; simply resolve the outcome as though you'd rolled a result of 1–3. Other characters may attempt to preserve you from this fate by assisting you, in which case you roll one die per assisting friend; see below for more details.

Assistance

If you wish to assist another character in making a test, consult your own Profile Grid, considering only those squares which contain tokens. Only the specific pairs of traits represented by the squares on which your tokens fall are eligible for assistance; for example, if one of your tokens falls on the intersection of Cryptic and Teeth, you may assist with Cryptic Teeth, but not any other pair of traits involving Cryptic or Teeth unless those squares also have tokens on them.

If you're able to identify an eligible pair of traits that seems applicable to the test at hand, explain how you're using it to help, and hand the player making the test one extra die. Any number of characters may assist on a given test.

Providing assistance neither requires nor permits your character to adapt (see below) – it needs to be your own test for that!

Adapting

After resolving a test, your character adapts, shifting focus or form to reflect what they've learned. Take one token of your choice from your character sheet, and move it to a different square which doesn't already contain one. You can move any token you wish, but it must end up on a different square than the one it started on unless no valid destinations are available. Adapting is not optional, and must be carried out after every test.

Suffering Strain

If whatever you're making a test against is particularly strenuous or dangerous, you might suffer strain as a consequence. Strain will often be incurred on a result of 1–3, and rarely on a result of 4–5; only the most foolhardy efforts will incur strain even on a result of 6!

To incur strain, roll d66, and place a small X on the square on your Profile Grid whose indicated numeric range contains the number you rolled. If there's a token on that square, immediately move it to an empty square of your choice, unless fewer than three unmarked squares now remain; in that case, simply remove the token entirely.

For the remainder of the scene, tokens may not be moved to any marked square. In addition, if you suffer further strain, and the square indicated by your d66 roll is already marked, your character is incapacitated, and may not participate in tests at all until they recover.

All strain is cleared – and any discarded tokens restored – at the end of each scene. Incapacitated characters also recover at this time.

[luminoustarlight]

As Fate Would Have It | Chapter Two

It's your first day of work at Skywalker Enterprises.

◂ chapter one ▸ chapter three

rating: mature | pairing: dilf!anakin skywalker x afab!reader | wc: 3.7k | read on ao3

warnings: swearing, age-gaps, sexual fantasies

The moms at St. Lucas Preparatory School are shameless. Single, divorced, and married women (and some men) alike can’t help but hold their breath when Anakin Skywalker steps onto campus. The dads are intimidated by him and the moms… well, let’s just say the moms have less than school appropriate thoughts about the billionaire. 

Anakin detests the end of the year. He hates being involved at the school. He doesn’t want to spend 2 hours of his day off packing meals in a crowded gymnasium with other parents who also don’t want to be there. 

He doesn’t want to make small talk or ask about Luke and Leia’s classmates because frankly, he doesn’t give a crap. The only children he likes are his own and he won’t pretend otherwise. 

“Mr. Skywalker,” Leia’s teacher, Ms. Clark sighs, “you are the only parent in my class who has yet to sign up for a slot at this year's Cranberry Sauce.” Cranberry Sauce is just the name the school gives the Thanksgiving Drive to make it sound more “fun”. 

Anakin gives his children a kiss on their foreheads and sends them through the school gates. Once they’re out of earshot, he addresses Leia’s teacher. “I already wrote a check to buy the damn food. Isn’t that sufficient?” 

“Mr. Skywalker,” Ms. Clark repeats with annoyance. If it were up to her, she’d let Anakin donate all of the money he wants in order to keep him from volunteering at school events. She thinks he’s arrogant, stuck-up, and far too handsome for any man to be. So she decides to loathe him since she can’t fuck him. But Headmaster Franklin is adamant Anakin attends the event. 

“I really insist that you participate for at least an hour at Cranberry Sauce next weekend. It is important for your children to see you involved at the school. At their school.” 

Anakin’s tall and broad stature seems to grow even larger at this statement. How dare this woman insinuate anything about him as a father? 

“You think I’m not involved in my childrens’ lives?” Anakin has just enough self-control not to completely raise his voice at his daughter’s fourth grade teacher. Especially since parents are continuing to drop off their kids. “You think I’m an absent father who gives the school money to compensate for my lack of paternal instincts?” 

“I didn’t say that,” Ms. Clark answers cautiously. “There is no need to make a scene. I have no doubts you are an excellent father, Mr. Skywalker. I don’t think Leia would be the young lady she is if you weren’t. One hour. That's all we ask.” 

Anakin raises an eyebrow. “We?” 

“Oh, um, well-” Ms. Clark stammers. Busted. She sighs with defeat. “Headmaster Franklin would very much like to see you there.”

“I’m sure he would,” Anakin replies smugly. Headmaster Franklin wants him there for publicity. Anakin should be more pissed about that than being accused of not being a present parent, but he’s not. He likes his ego stroked every now and then. “One hour.” 

“Thank you,” Ms. Clark smiles tightly. “Does 10-11 work for you?” 

“Fine,” Anakin waves his hand dismissively as he gets a message on his phone. 

Ben Kenobi 

Your new secretary is here. 

Shit. It’s Anakin’s first day without Dorothy. No wonder the morning has gone the way it has. Between Luke spilling orange juice on his shirt, Leia’s uncooperating French braids, and his conversation with Ms. Clark, Anakin can’t help but fear the change in routine with a new assistant. He types his response. 

Anakin Skywalker

Assistant. Not secretary. I’ll be there in 20 minutes. 

Ben Kenobi 

If you say so. 

Ben Kenobi is Anakin’s closest friend. Some might even call them brothers. Ben is fifteen years older than Anakin, married to the mayor, and enjoys fly fishing on the weekends. He’s also Luke and Leia’s godfather. Should anything happen to Anakin, there is no one else he’d trust to raise and watch over his children than Ben Kenobi. 

And Ben knows better than anyone that Anakin doesn’t like change. He’s been dreading Dorothy’s last day since she told him she was retiring a year ago. How was he going to find someone as good as her? Someone who anticipates his needs before he does? 

That’s why he tasked her with finding her own replacement. He’s just too busy to interview a replacement for Dorothy himself. He wouldn’t know what to look for, anyway. If he doesn’t know what he wants in a woman to date, how is he supposed to know what he wants in a new assistant? 

.

.

. 

“Mr. Skywalker is not in at the moment. Can I take a message?” You’ve uttered that exact sentence at least seven times since you arrived at the office at 8:00 a.m. Now, as it nears 9:00, you expect to see your new boss very soon. 

Each time you hear the elevator ding, you look up with hopefulness at the arrival of the esteemed Anakin Skywalker. What will you say to him? How will you introduce yourself? Will he be nice and welcoming? God, you hope so. You’ve read just about every article, watched every interview, and listened to every podcast he’s done to prepare yourself for the job. The consensus is the same in all of them. 

Anakin Skywalker is generous, he’s polite, and generally gets along with everyone— if you don’t get on his nerves. And, according to Dorothy, he’s a charmer. 

“Yes, absolutely,” you say while taking notes of the message on a legal pad. Your head is down so you don’t notice Anakin walking out of the elevator. He stops 5 steps away from your desk. His ribs feel like they’re collapsing around his lungs because of that voice. Why does he know that voice? 

“I will let Mr. Skywalker know you called as soon as he gets into the office.” You hang up the phone and as you look up, there he is in all of his gorgeous glory. 

You actually have to tell yourself to take a breath because he’s even more handsome in person. Faint lines around his eyes represent years of life he lived before you were born. His dark blonde hair is combed back effortlessly and is it wrong that you want to run your hands through it? Yeah, probably. He’s your boss and over twenty years older than you. 

“It’s-” Anakin can’t even say more than that because holy fuck. Is he dreaming? He squeezes his eyes and then opens them, only to see you now standing with your hand extended to him. “It’s… you.” 

“Um, yes,” you say while awkwardly returning your arm to your side. “I’m Y/N. Your new assistant. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Skywalker.” 

“I- um, yes,” Anakin clears his throat. Christ, that wasn’t even a sentence. “I need to take care of something,” he says on his way towards his office. “I am not to be disturbed until I come out. Do you understand?” 

“Y-yes. Yes, sir,” you barely answer before Anakin’s office door is shut violently. Well, that certainly wasn’t the introduction you were expecting or hoping for. You’re starting to think not meeting him beforehand was a bad idea. It honestly should’ve been a red flag but Dorothy insisted it was fine. 

It doesn’t seem fine. 

And things definitely aren’t fine. For Anakin, that is. To say he’s freaking out is putting it lightly. He paces the length of his office, shoving his fingers through his hair and muttering to himself. “It can’t be. There’s no way it can be her.” 

Maybe he’s hallucinating. Maybe he’s having an incredibly vivid dream where his favorite OnlyFans performer, who he has known as HoneySuckle for the last three years is his new assistant. What did you say your name is? Anakin couldn’t hear you over the erection that was forming in his pants because he knows your voice. He’s cum from your voice alone. He’s cum because of you so, so many times. 

This can’t be happening. 

He’s never seen your entire face but he knows it’s you. He’d recognize your lips in a police lineup. He hears your voice in his wet dreams. He just knows it’s you. 

And the fact that he has a hard-on is a problem. A problem he wishes you could take care of but you can’t because now you work for him and he’s your boss. This is all so, so wrong. 

Anakin doesn’t so much sit on his leather chair as he does collapse into it. This was never supposed to happen. Yes, he has dreamed about meeting you on more than one occasion. He’s thought about telling you who he is during your countless direct messages so many times. He’s thought about using his infinite resources to find out who you really are on more than one occasion.

But he always concluded that it would be so insanely wrong and borderline creepy if he did that. You were always supposed to remain a fantasy. Just a nameless woman on a screen who doesn’t live in the same country, state, or city as him. 

Yet here you are— sitting outside of his office, taking his calls, calling him Mr. Skywalker and being even more beautiful than he could have imagined. 

You are no longer the woman on his tablet spewing filthy words as you make yourself orgasm. You’re tangible. You have a name- although he can’t remember what it is. He replays the interaction over in his head. The feeling he felt when he saw you was reminiscent of seeing his wife walk down the aisle at their wedding. He was a blundering mess then, just as he is a blundering mess now. 

He doesn’t even want to think about your first impression of him. He’s supposed to be Anakin Skywalker for crying out loud! The suave, handsome millionaire who has the ability to make men cower and women fall to their knees. The embarrassment he feels from that interaction is enough to subdue his hard-on. He pours himself a bit of Bourbon, shoots it back like it’s a normal thing to do at 9 in the morning, and prepares to reintroduce himself to you. 

Anakin smooths his hands down his slacks before opening his door. As his eyes are magnetized to you, his heart starts beating irregularly. Get a fucking grip. 

You stand attentively when you notice Anakin walking towards you. Worried you made a terrible impression on him, you wait to speak. But Anakin doesn’t say anything either and now he’s standing in front of your desk, all tall and lean and smelling like Cedar and Whiskey. He’s looking at you with an expression you can’t read. Did Dorothy tell him anything about you? Or did he go into this just as blind as you did? 

His eyes seem to dance all over your body which makes you feel like he’s studying you. Or criticizing every single thing about your appearance. From your simple burgundy dress to the pearl studs you bought with some of Skyguy81’s most recent (and overly generous) tip. 

Finally, because his gaze on you was becoming too much to bear, you are the one to talk first. “Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Skywalker?” 

Yeah, you can remind him of your name for starters. “Do you have messages for me?” is what he asks instead. 

“Yes,” you answer, picking up the pad you’ve been scribbling notes on for the last hour. “Rex sent over the final schematics for the 0525 project that needs your approval by 3 p.m. today in order to begin production. Mayor Kryze’s office called about the upcoming Gala in December and wanted to know if you would be in attendance. And if so, how many tickets should they reserve? Oh, and someone from St. Lucas Preparatory School called to let you know that your son ripped his pants and needs a new pair brought to school because they don’t have any new pants in his size.” 

Anakin taps his index finger on your desk while he listens to you. He barely registers anything you say because it’s really hard to hear your voice without getting aroused. It’s hard even looking at you without automatically picturing you naked. There’s not an inch of your skin he’s never seen. Well, except for the top half of your face which now, of course, he has seen. And God, does he love what you have to offer. 

You’re still relaying messages but suddenly you’re bent over your desk, gripping the edge of it with pale knuckles as Anakin slams into you over, and over, and over. He’s making you yelp his name so loudly the whole building can hear you. 

“Mr. Skywalker?” 

Anakin snaps back into reality where you’re still fully clothed and definitely not moaning his name. “What?” comes out a little harsher than he intended. And he immediately regrets it when he sees you visibly shrink right before him. 

“What- what would you like me to tell the Mayor’s office?” 

Anakin has gone as a bachelor to the last two Christmas Galas. Ben stays close to Satine the whole night and he really doesn’t see the point in asking a woman he has no interest in to be his date. Plus, going alone lets him leave the party with whomever he wants or to call it a night and go home early to watch ELF and drink peppermint cocoa with his kids. 

“Have them put me down for 2.” 

You nod whilst making another note on the pad. “And what about your son’s pants?” 

“Did they say where he ripped them?” 

“Right down the middle,” you answer. 

Anakin shakes his head. “Oh, Luke,” he mutters to himself. “Alright, I’ll go home and get him a new pair.” 

“Icandoit,” rushes out of your mouth. 

“What?” 

“Sorry, my mouth moved faster than my brain,” you reply, hoping Anakin will find it endearing instead of annoying. “I said I can do it. I don’t mind. It’s my job, isn’t it?” 

Anakin opens his mouth but doesn’t say anything. Yes, technically it’s your job to do this sort of errand. But Anakin doesn’t want you going to his house alone, sifting through his son’s drawers, and bringing him new pants to his school. 

Primarily because he’d much rather you be in his home under different circumstances. 

“We’ll go together,” Anakin decides against his better judgment. “I’ll drive.”

.

.

.

So, Anakin definitely didn’t think things through when he said he’d drive. 

In what world did he think sharing a close, confined space with you was a good idea? This whole morning has been a cluster-fuck. Honestly. He’s still struggling to wrap his head around who you are. When you announced Squirting for Sky was going to be your last video, he thought what a devastation it would be to not look forward to your videos every week. Who would’ve thought you’d be the one replacing his dear old assistant the very next week? The odds of it all are overwhelming. 

But isn’t this what he’s always wanted? The opportunity to meet you? To know your name and know you personally? Every wish of his has been granted— except for the fact that he is your boss and you are technically his subordinate. He says technically because Dorothy always felt more like family than an employee. 

You could be family. 

You could be so much more than his assistant.

Oh, Jesus Christ, Anakin. Be reasonable. She’s your employee. She’s practically a kid. 

Anakin looks over to you for the first time since getting in the car. You’re pressed against the side of the passenger door, knees angled away from him and arms crossed over your chest. “Are you cold?” 

“Oh,” you say, looking at him with a tentative smile. “A little.” 

“You should’ve said so,” Anakin turns on the heater and your seat warmer. “My kids call seat warmers butt toasters. Let me know if your butt gets too toasty.” 

You have to bite your lip to keep from laughing. 

There’s an awkward pause as Anakin realizes what he just said. He absolutely cannot think about your butt any longer than he has to because we all know how that will end.

 (A hard cock, in case that wasn’t clear). 

 “I mean, uh- shit,” Anakin briefly closes his eyes to compose himself. Let me know if your butt gets too toasty? 

“Just turn it off yourself if you get too warm.” 

Do you make him nervous? No way. You decide to let it go. “Kids? Plural?” 

“Yeah.” Anakin drapes his right arm over the center console and taps his fingers against the gear shift. Long, dexterous fingers at that. You have to look away before you start thinking about something completely inappropriate of your boss. “I have twins. A boy and a girl. Luke, he’s the silly one. Right now he’s big into archeology. He’s also pretty clumsy, hence the rip in his pants. And Leia, my daughter, she’s far too serious for any 9 year old to be. She says she wants to be a senator when she grows up.” 

This is the longest you’ve been able to look at Anakin without feeling your cheeks burning. Now, they’re just hot because of the heater blasting in your face. “You light up when you talk about them,” you say. “You must love them a lot.” 

“More than anything,” Anakin doesn’t hesitate. “Here we are.” 

You should’ve been paying attention on how to get to his house from the office. Surely, you’ll be running these errands on your own if things go well with your employment. Oh, well. That’s what the Maps is for. 

Anakin’s house is a stunning Eichler. It looks straight out of an Architectural Digest cover. The lawn outside is perfectly cropped and perfectly green but littered with a soccer ball, football, a baseball bat and whiffle balls. You wouldn’t have pegged Anakin for a mid-century modern kind of guy. You would’ve thought he’d opt for an insanely modern, sterile house. 

As you walk through the atrium and into the main body of the house, it’s clear it is a family home. Anakin uses his foot to sweep his kids’ shoes out of the way so you don’t trip over them. “Sorry about the mess.” 

“It’s okay,” you shrug. Anakin’s house isn’t even all that messy. It just looks like a home. There are so many pictures on the walls, it would be impossible to look at all of them in one go. One in particular, though, catches your eye. It’s the largest out of all of them and the only one in black and white. A significantly younger Anakin is at the bedside of who you presume to be his wife with two bundles of babies in their arms. They are both looking down and smiling. His wife was stunning. They definitely made an attractive couple. 

It’s not lost on you that there are no other pictures of Anakin’s kids with their mom. He’s only spoken about his wife’s death in one interview, about a year after her passing. If you remember correctly, she died shortly after the twins were born. 

You can’t imagine the kind of pain and heartache Anakin must have felt losing his wife. You don’t know what it feels like to experience that kind of grief. You want to tell Anakin you’re sorry for his loss, but what good will that do? Is there any consolation in that at all? 

You’re still looking at the photo when Anakin returns from Luke’s room with a new pair of tan pants. You can feel his presence right beside you and the silence is louder than words. 

He shouldn’t have brought you back here. It’s only your first day and you’ve already seen too much of his life. 

“Let’s go,” Anakin orders. You nod without a word and follow him out to the car. 

The tension in the air is palpable on your way to St. Lucas Prep. You feel like you’ve done something wrong by simply stepping foot in Anakin’s house. His whole demeanor shifted when he came back to the front room with Luke’s pants. Does he regret bringing you to the house? If so, why? Dorothy clearly laid out your responsibilities to you. Tending to personal matters at Anakin’s house is part of the job. You are not just a professional assistant, but a personal assistant, too.

You can’t stand not knowing why someone is upset with you. “Did I do something wrong?” 

Anakin’s grip on the steering wheel tightens. ���No.” 

Wow, how reassuring. “Okay, then why do I feel like I did something to upset you?” 

You’re really pressing your limit with him right now. You’ve only just met 2 hours ago. See, this is why meeting him should’ve been part of the hiring process. You’d be a lot more acquainted with each other than you are right now. 

If only you knew how acquainted Anakin is with you… 

“You didn’t,” is all he says. But with a twitch of his jaw, you still feel like he’s not telling you the truth. 

“Look, Mr. Skywalker,” you begin. “I understand Dorothy meant a great deal to you, and her leaving is going to be an adjustment. But I promise you I am capable of this job. I’m never late, I’m up late all the time so if there was anything you needed, I’d be able to fulfill it. I love kids, I’m a hard worker and I would really appreciate it if you gave me a chance before making any decisions about me.” 

“You’re right,” Anakin says. “I’ll give you a chance.”  But he’s already made up his mind. He doesn’t have to ‘give you a chance’ to know that he wants you. He is crawling out of his skin with how badly he wants you. And he knows it’s wrong, probably immoral, but he really doesn’t care. Because now that you’ve been inside of his home, the boundary that should exist between him as your boss and you as his employee feels impossibly blurry.

◂ series masterlist ▸ chapter three

[gimmethatagustd]

definitely today, satan | knj

After having a strange dream about your hot neighbor, you realize it might be time to finally make your move. Dreams are a sign from the universe, right?

○ Pairing: DILF/Neighbor!Namjoon x f!Reader

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Neighbors to lovers, smut, crack

○ 11 / 100 Drabble Challenge (Neighbor)

○ Word Count: 1,076

○ Warnings: It's corny and horribly written and I don't know what the fuck came over me when I wrote any of these fics, cunnilingus (Namjoon eating it from behind while MC wears a skirt, god bless), nipple play, vaginal fingering, I have a really bad sense humor, reference to NSYNC fanfic

○ Notes: This fic was written for @mapleleaf000 for my "part 2 when?" follower milestone game. It's actually part 3 of what has turned into a mini-series about the "Demon DMV" LOL. The links for the other parts are below. For those of you who haven't read "Not Today, Satan," you don't have to read parts 1 and 2 to understand this fic, but I highly recommend it, or else this won't be as funny. Also, yes, there is NSYNC fic on AO3. In case you were curious. 💀

○ Post Date: March 12, 2024

○ Masterlist | AO3 Crosspost

○ What was Jai listening to? Dangerous - TEN

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

Honestly, sometimes your ability to pull hot men shocks you. It doesn’t only happen at night when you’re weirdly dreaming about your hot, daddy-dom neighbor being Satan, tempting you with his sexy biceps and boobs. You’re actually here, in his apartment, sitting on said hot, daddy-dom neighbor’s thick thighs as he sucks on your throat and squeezes your tits. 

Namjoon is even hotter in real life than he was as Satan in your dreams, though you can’t help but think about your dream while he’s pulling off your shirt to trail kisses across your collarbones and reaching around you to unclasp your bra. 

“Fuck, you’re so sexy,” Namjoon moans against your chest as he drags his tongue across one of your nipples, flicking it repeatedly until it’s hard and soaked with his spit. His tongue isn’t pointy and forked like it had been in your dream, but that’s fine!

“Not as sexy as you,” you insist with your fingers threaded through his hair. 

Namjoon’s hair is short and bleached with highlights, and you think he’s probably the only person in the twenty-first century who can pull off bleached tips without looking like Lance from NSYNC. 

Is there any NSYNC fanfiction on AO3? If there is, it’s probably Lance/Justin. 

Not to kink-shame anyone, but ew. 

You’re pulled from your distracting thoughts by Namjoon grabbing your ass and helping you grind against the bulge in his pants. He’s still wearing his slacks, having just come home from work. You were supposed to go on a dinner date since his daughter is staying with her mother over the weekend. 

As a respectful father (hot), Namjoon has avoided mixing his dating life with his family life. It’s what’s best for now since the two of you are still getting to know each other. Only recently did your dreams of Purgatory and Hell push you to ask Namjoon out. It makes sense that he wants to take things slow with introducing you into his daughter’s life. 

You’re definitely not taking things slow in other areas of your dating life, though. 

“Is it weird if I say that I dreamt about this?” you ask when Namjoon hooks his arms around your thighs and carries you out of the living room. His strength is impressive, even if his bedroom isn’t far from where you’d been. 

“Not at all. I’ve dreamt about you, too.” 

Namjoon seems shy when he confesses, but you suppose it actually is kind of weird, and the two of you are probably just weird together. Which is nice. Sexy or not, you wouldn’t be able to vibe with Namjoon if he couldn’t keep up with your weirdness. 

“Oh, did you?” you purr as Namjoon reaches under your miniskirt to pull your thong down your legs. 

“Mhm,” he hums against your neck when he hovers over you, slotting himself between your legs so he can grind his thigh against your exposed pussy. 

One of the buttons on his white work shirt catches on your nipple. The rough drag makes your body shiver with goosebumps. When you try to unbutton his shirt, he grabs your hand and pins it to the bed above your head. 

“Keep it on,” Namjoon whispers in your ear. 

His breath is hot against your face, and his voice is deep and scratchy. If you close your eyes, you can almost imagine something darker in his tone, something demonic. It’s so hot you feel your pussy throb and slick up even more. When Namjoon pulls away, there’s a dark spot on his pants from how wet you are. 

“Can I eat you out?” Namjoon’s request is more like a plea, a hopeful lilt to his voice when he speaks. He runs his palms up your thighs to push your miniskirt further up your waist to expose more of your body.

“You don’t even have to ask a question like that.” 

“From behind?” 

“Fuck, yeah, oh my god.” You throw your head back with a dramatic groan before rolling onto your stomach and transitioning to resting on your forearms and knees. “Please, I didn’t even get to the fucking in my dream about you, so I need this.” 

Squeezing your asscheeks, Namjoon pulls you apart and uses his leg to push your knees apart more to open you. 

“I definitely got to the fucking part in mine,” Namjoon says with a chuckle as he runs his thumb over your pussy, first gathering your arousal from where it leaks at your entrance and gliding it up to wet your clit even more. 

“What,” you swallow the drool you’re afraid might come out of you when Namjoon picks up the pace, “What was your dream like?” 

“I don’t know if I should tell you. It was weird.” 

He circles your clit, occasionally thumbing at it with gentle flicks at the tip that makes your legs shake. When you start kicking your foot and moaning louder, he finally brings his mouth down to where you throb for him. 

“Oh fuck,” you moan against Namjoon’s bed sheets. 

You’ve got your face pressed into the bed because you can’t keep your head up as he fucks his tongue in you while he rubs your clit with his slick fingers. He moans against your pussy when he switches positions so he’s fingering you while he laps at your clit. His movements are languid, which drives you even crazier than if he’d been fingerfucking you hard enough to make your ass jiggle.

“Good?” he murmurs with his lips slick and his fingers still massaging your walls.

“So good, god, your lips are so perfect, fuck,” you moan and push back against his face. “Tell me your dream. Was it like this?”

Namjoon kisses your clit before bringing his other hand to rub it while he still fingers you. Leaning back on his knees, Namjoon increases the speed of his movements as he admits, “You were the Devil, and I fucked you so good that you kept me as a pet.” 

“I WHAT?” 

You turn around to stare at Namjoon with wide eyes and an inability to say anything more as your orgasm rips a whiny moan out of you, legs shaking and threatening to collapse. Namjoon wraps his arm around your waist and keeps rubbing your clit until you wiggle away from him when you grow too sensitive. 

Namjoon wipes his messy fingers on your thigh and shrugs. 

“I told you it was a weird dream.”

Join the 100 Drabble Challenge taglist.

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Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories. 

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie).

[prentisssgf]

| change the prophecy

| criminal minds

| emily prentiss x reader

| hurt / comfort

| 1634

| A/N - there are a few trigger warnings for this fic, including abortion talk, vomit, death, (basically the after effects of demonology, and when she was pregnant at 15), there is a scene where I talk about blaming someone’s death on someone else so please if you know that it will trigger you, don’t read it, otherwise I kind of tried something new with my writing style so please let me know what you think

You woke up around 2:30am to the sound of shuffling, you knew Emily and you knew that it would be her.

You heard her shrug off her coat and throw her keys into the bowl, you heard her hang her coat up and the sound of her heels as she kicked them off as she made her way into the kitchen to grab herself a glass of wine

You also heard her sigh to herself as she sat down on the couch

"Baby?" your voice both startled and calmed her, not expecting you to be behind her, but a gratefulness that you were.

"Oh my God Y/N I'm so sorry, did I wake you?" she quickly placed the glass down and made her way over to you.

"No no, I was up anyway" you spoke before you thought, making it so it sounded like you waited up for her all this time.

You both knew it was a lie, you were always in bed at 10, 11 would be pushing it, you definitely were not going to be awake at, now, 2:45am

Emily nodded, she knew you weren't telling the truth but she also knew that this lie was harmless.

"Emily I'm-"

"I'm coming to bed, baby, you go up and I'll be right there" Emily finished your sentence, already knowing what you were about to say.

Emily smiled as she made her way over to you, kissing your head and then your lips "sure" you smiled looking up at her with every single love and admiration a person could speak with their eyes.

3:08 was when Emily finally walked through your bedroom door "bad case?" you whispered so quietly that you hoped she didn't hear you.

"No not a case" she sighed as she slotted herself into bed with you.

"Oh" your eyebrow perked up "do you want to talk about it?" you lay there, now face to face with Emily, you both leaning with an elbow propped up, you stuck out your hand to swipe some hair behind her eyes.

"It's about Matthew"

You remembered when Emily confided in you, almost 2 years ago, you remembered how Matthew and how he encouraged her to go to an abortion clinic when she was 15 and pregnant and scared.

"What about him sweetheart?" you whispered gently.

She waited a few minutes, she pulled you closer to her by curling her hand around your waist and pushing you towards her, she rested her forehead against yours before she finally spoke again.

"He's dead, he died and I couldn't save him" that's what broke her, sobs finally broke free, she had been keeping those in from the minute she found out about his death, from when she had to go and talk to Matthew's parents and when she sat in her office for hours and hours and hours.

She sat there, for almost 4 hours; cold, scared, and alone, mirroring exactly how she felt 17 years ago, but only this time, she didn't have Matthew Benton by her side, she had you.

You pulled her in close, your chin on her head as she sobbed into your chest, you kissed her head many times as you rubbed her back all whilst whispering sweet nothings to her gently

"Emily?" you whispered, looking down at her, Emily didn't answer, instead her grip tightened as she looked up at you "hey hey it's okay, its okay, you're okay" you affirmed, Emily nodded and mouthed the same words back, you kissed her head once more "I just want you to promise me something, do you think you could do that?" you spoke softly.

"Hmm?" Emily both partially agreed whilst simultaneously wondering what you were about to say

"Promise me that if you ever need to talk to me tonight, you'll wake me up, or, or, if you have a nightmare or anything" tears fell from your face as you looked down to see Emily, she had been crying for hours and hours, she was tired and you could tell

"Yeah" she bit her lip and looked up at you, an attempt at a smile was made but faltered nonetheless "yeah I can do that?" she breathed out as she tucked her head into your chest again

Soon enough, Emily's breathing slowed down, she was exhausted and she tired herself out and she fell asleep in your arms, you kissed her head once more and you told her that you loved her and that she was the strongest person you had ever met, a slight smirk appeared on her lips to signify that she heard you which made you smile.

You watched her sleep for a few minutes before deciding do to the same, you shuffled down and kissed her shoulder as you slung your arm around her waist.

You woke up the next morning on your back with Emily's arm around your waist tightly, you screwed your eyes together as you hadn't yet adjusted to the morning sun, carefully you turned over to see a bright red "6:52" looking back at you, making you groan slightly, it was like it knew it was your day off

You kissed Emily's head once more before you went back to sleep.

You woke up a few hours later to the sound of thrashing next to you, you quickly sat up in bed to find Emily crying, with a layer of sweat down her forehead, as fast as you could you quickly sprinted to the kitchen to get her a glass of water, you ran back down the hallway into your bedroom to find Emily in the same position only now muttering to herself "I need to save him" your lip quivered as you made your way over to her, you knew how to handle Emily's nightmares, considering you had been her best friend for 5 years and together for 3.

"Emily, Emily honey, you're having a nightmare" you shook her lightly "Emily" your voice now filled with concern as she wasn't bulging "Emily" you accidentally shouted louder than you expected to.

With a huge gasp of air, Emily flung herself forward and heaved heavily, you knew what was coming so you quickly went to your bathroom to grab a bin for her to throw up in, you rubbed her back as she did so and held her hand all the way through it.

"Here" you picked up the water and slowly placed it in front of her lips "drink this" you prompted, you cleaned everything up and went back to bed, you sat up on the bed, purposely sitting behind Emily, you adjusted yourself to sit behind her as you pulled her up in between your legs, she kept quietly drinking the water, you kissed her shoulder again before leaning into her nightstand to retrieve a brush out of there, you asked silently for permission as you raised one eyebrow along with the hairbrush, she nodded and started sipping some more water.

You started brushing and playing with her hair, Emily would never admit it, but she absolutely loves people playing with and brushing her hair, she just shrugged it off as she never had an older sister or an older relative in her life that would take care of her the way you did; gently, warmly, and fully.

"I had a nightmare about Matthew" she sighed, a few minutes later.

"Okay" you gently prompted again "are you ready to talk about it?" she shook her head harshly "okay that's okay" your voice laced with a compassionate tone "well whenever you're ready to talk about Matthew or about anything, I'm always here" you repeated once more, you didn't have to tell Emily if she knew that because she always did.

"Matthew's parents" she placed her glass on the nightstand as she held back a sob and tried to console herself at the thought "they uh, blamed his death on me" she started to pick around her fingernails

"What!?" panic in your voice, almost in awe at how someone could do something as terrible as that.

"I shouldn't have said anything I'm sorry" Emily quickly retaliated.

"Hey, hey, no why are you sorry?" you asked as calm as you could.

"Because you believe them right? because you believe that I killed Matthew because I didn't get there in time!?" Emily raised her voice slightly, but you knew she wasn't angry at you.

"Can you turn around and look at me" you sighed, hesitantly Emily turned around to you, her head on your stomach as she lay in between your legs again "I would never, never think that" you sighed as you reached down to cup her cheek before repeating what you just spoke "I know you got there as quickly as you could, you didn't do anything wrong" you smiled gently.

"They still blame me for the abortion" Emily played nervously with the strings of your pajama shorts.

"Honey, you were 15, you were 15 and pregnant, it's okay to have been scared, you did the best thing for you and the baby" you sighed gently, your hand caressing her cheek.

"Thank you" she gripped your hand, absentmindedly swirling her finger around it creating different patterns, something she did when she was either nervous, scared, or sad "come here" you pulled her back up and hugged her as tight as you could "I'm glad you're here, I love you so much, please don't ever forget that" you stapled a kiss to her forehead once more before she fell asleep, you rubbed her back and played with her hair, whispering how much you loved her and listening everything you loved about her.

[regal-bones]

REGAL BONES COMMISSION SHEET

ANIMATED MAGIC ITEMS: £100

Non animated, non coloured, and non shaded versions are available for a cheaper price! All payments through paypal. Items with moving parts (like the butterfly knife) may cost more as they can be more technically challenging. If you are planning on using your commission for a commercial use, there is a +50% commercial fee You can DM me here or on Twitter if you’d like to get in contact about a commission!

WAITING TIMES (PLEASE READ)

Thanks to the amazing support of my Patrons, I no longer need to do commissions to sustain myself for bare essentials like rent and food. But that means that I am now only working on commission work if I need extra money. This means that waiting times can be very long, and should be considered indefinite! Even when I was working on commissions as my full time job, waiting times were up to 11 months long! This is now going to increase, and if you aren’t already on the waiting list please factor a wait of at least 2 years. This kinda sucks, but as an artist I don’t really want to be working on commissions forever and being able to spend more time on my own work is very fulfilling! My commissions work on a waitlist system. Moving forward, if I am in a position where I need to work on commissions I will work slowly through my waiting list. If I message you and you are no longer financially in a place to work get something like this done, no stress! I’ll keep your spot at the top and anytime you have the money I can fit you into my schedule and get to work :)

If you are a patron of mine, please let me know when you are placing your order! As a patron you’ll skip half the waiting list ❤️

As of today (04/10/2023), my waiting list is 35 slots long!

That being said, I can be motivated with money! If you want your item here and now, I offer priority slots for £200 where I will drop everything and work on your item! I know that is a high price, but as mentioned I am very busy with my own projects! I am always focusing on making money so that I can make art - not the other way around. I only hold 3 priority slots at a time.

I also draw stuff besides magic items! Characters, creatures, environment work - check out my archive if that interests you! These prices can be negotiable depending on the project, but anything that isn’t an item starts pricing at £250

Thank you so much! This is a huge change in how my commissions work, and this level of creative freedom wouldn’t be possible without support from people who like my art, and especially my patrons! (You guys rock!!!) I hope you have a lovely day, and let’s make some fun stuff together

[winterchimez]

🔎 — the 007 files

James Bond—or rather, the public was more aware that his code name, agent 007, has been working behind the scenes for decades now. imagine this: what if the agent 007 that you have come to know of was actually more than just one person? what if the famous group The Boyz were all agent 007 working under M16. buckle up as you access M16's top secret operative files, aka the most famous missions these individual agents have succeeded in.

A/N: why hello my fellow readers! i present to you a tbz x 007 cross-over collab series!! i've had this idea for a while now and thanks to @sungbeam who gave me the genius idea of hosting an open collab (and co-planning with me) for this!! i'm so so excited and i really hope this doesn't flop lmao 😭 so yes, please feel free to join the fun! 😉

🔎 STARRING: the boyz x f!reader/oc // g.n!reader/oc

🔎 GENRE: crime, angst, fluff, crack, suggestive, smut (only for 18+ writers!!), assorted pairings (more to be added)

🔎 WARNINGS: will be stated in each respective files!

RULES & REGULATIONS:

↬ choose a tbz member & a bond film to start off! you may write the story loosely based on the storyline of the film/a certain scene(s) inspired by the film itself! or alternatively, write it based on the themed song for the specific film you have chosen! (eg: sangyeon - the spy who loved me)

↬ slots will be first come first served! in total there will be 11 slots for 11 members

↬ only tbz member x reader / tbz member x oc!! no tbz member x member for this

↬ as mentioned above, writers will have the option to choose to either write a female/gender neutral reader/oc!

↬ minimum wc would be 1k, and there's no maximum so feel free to write as much as you'd like! pls include a "read more" feature after your summaries/genre/warnings/word count/a.n.

↬ you are allowed to write any genre you like! pls make sure you're over 18+ if you wish to include smut in your work.

↬ no sensitive topics will be allowed (eg: su*c*de, r*pe, r*cism, etc.)

↬ i will be making a discord gc for easier access, updates, and even brainstorming with one another! it will also help me loads with any announcements i will be making. joining in would be highly encouraged (though if you choose not to that's totally fine by me, just keep me regularly updated in my dms!)

↬ the project will officially kick start off on December 1st 2023, and you will have till March 31st 2024 to complete your work! if ever you wish to drop out / need a bit more time to publish your work pls do let me know!!

↬ fill out this google form to secure your place in this collab :) (key: shaken not stirred)

↬ lastly, reblog this post, @ me in your fics & use the hashtag 🔎 — the 007 files in your works!!

FILES:

Lee Sangyeon — The Spy Who Loved Me @winterchimez

Jacob Bae — The World Is Not Enough @snowflakewhispers

Kim Younghoon — Goldfinger @daisyvisions

Lee Hyunjae — Skyfall @kkinou

Lee Juyeon — For Your Eyes Only @juyeonszn

Kevin Moon

Choi Chanhee — No Time To Die @maessseongs

Ji Changmin — Casino Royale @sungbeam

Ju Haknyeon

Kim Sunwoo — On Her Majesty's Secret Service @kimsohn

Eric Sohn — From Russia With Love @cloverdaisies

[604to647]

Safest with You (Ch. 11 - The Poker Game)

5.9K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: Din hosts a poker game and invites you and your friends; the meeting of friends prompts a discussion about the status of your relationship.

Warnings: 18+ content (MDNI please), new-ish established relationship, dirty talk and teasing, mentions of infidelity (not Din), reader gets in her own head a bit (some anxiety), pet names as usual (Pretty bird, pretty girl, baby, sweetheart, etc.), reader is described as shorter than Din and Din can pick her up.

A/N: Please kindly suspend your disbelief and allow me to write Poe Dameron as Boba Fett’s son 😂😂😂 Like, when I thought of a roguish, charming, sh*t disturber son of a mob boss, Oscar Isaac’s delicious face just came to mind 🤷🏻‍♀️ I'm going to level with you, I wasn't a big fan of Poe in the Sequel trilogy - too much fly boy/fuck boi energy for me, and that's kind of how I'm writing him here. I'm sorry, Poe-lovers, please don't come after me! (For the record, I *am* a big fan of OI!)

I ran a poll on WIP Wednesday asking asking if there was a preference to separate the smut at the end this chapter into its own post. I told myself that if even one person answered that they wanted it separate, then I would do that; it's easy enough to click on the link at the end of the chapter to take you to the smut if you so choose! I hope no one is disappointed that the storyline is moving in the direction where smut will be a regular addition to the chapters - but if that's not your bag, I totally understand! I'm sorry if you need to go and am so thankful that you've read along to this point 😘😘😘

Series Masterlist

In the following weeks, you and Din fall into a comfortable rhythm and easily slot each other into your busy lives.

Your nightly dog walks resume and on most week nights Din tries to stay at your apartment, with you working late more often than not and it being closer to your office.  He’s becoming a familiar face to your work colleagues, bringing you (and often them as well) dinner as an easy and welcomed excuse to see you.  Some days he’ll just join you for a lunch trip to your favourite sandwich shop and the two of you will have a quick picnic outside your office building if the weather is warm enough.  Weekends are for long, lazy dates that span the entire day, rolling into romantic dinners that have you and Din eating your way across the city.  It’s so easy being with Din; the conversation never stops, the sex is brain meltingly good, and he never ceases to make you feel adored.  If anyone were to ask, you were the smartest, funniest, most beautiful woman on this planet and Din would readily unretire his boxing gloves if anyone dared to disagree.  Every moment with Din makes you giddy; not only is this bear of a man actually a secret softie, he’s also goofy and funny, and lucky for you, his new favourite pastime is to make you laugh.  

One night over dinner, you mention in passing that you love the arm waving tube men outside of used car dealerships (actually, you don’t know what they’re called, so you did a sort of arm flail with both your arms above your head and Din almost died laughing).  The following Saturday, you arrive at the gym in the afternoon to find that Din has rented two tube men and they’re bending, blowing this way and that, arms flying and rippling from the force of the air being blown from the fan units in their base.  You join a large group of onlookers in front of the gym, mostly children, laughing and watching with amusement as the silly attention-grabbing gimmick brings you pure unadulterated joy for a good 10 minutes.  After going in, you find Din folding some towels next to the boxing ring and you launch yourself at him directly, too full of laughter and delight to care who sees.  “Thank you thank you thank you thank you,” you murmur against his lips, unable to stop smiling.  Din picks you up so you can wrap your legs around him, not caring who sees either; he wants everyone at the gym to know whose girl you are.  Feeling your big smile against his mouth before seeing it, he grins, “You’re welcome, pretty bird.” 

“Are they a permanent feature?”

“Unfortunately, no.  Just for the weekend, then I have to give them back to the used car lot down the street, Watto’s.  Plus, people keep coming in asking if we’re having a special on memberships today,” he says with a groan.

Giggling, you slide down Din’s body and give him a long, deep kiss, one that will guarantee a fair bit of ribbing from the guys, before heading up to Din’s apartment via the gym’s second floor entrance.  Most of these indulgent weekends start at Din’s so he can stay close to work – you take to baking in Din’s apartment and bringing down treats for the patrons, which are generally very well received.  When you brought down ginger molasses cookies, Greef had jokingly scolded you saying his boxers shouldn’t have too many sweet treats as part of their training, before scarfing down two cookies, then swatting Jimmy’s hand away from the plate and pocketing three more.  You’re sure your offering the following weekend of high fibre raisin bran muffins were better for training regimens, but the enthusiasm for them seemed lower. 

Din’s place, the apartment and the gym as an extension, starts to feel more and more comfortable; a small collection of your things (books, toiletries) have migrated to his apartment, and you love that the familiar faces at Mando’s are starting to fold into your life as well.

The only small twinge of regret you have is that with all the time you're spending with Din, especially the time spent at his place, you’re not spending as much time with Al.  He’s more than welcomed at Din’s but you hadn’t wanted to uproot him too much, or impose too much on Din too quickly, so on the weekends Bea’s been coming by to walk Al and take care of him.  You miss your special guy, your long weekend walks and dog park events; as you cut the butter into your shortbread cookie dough in Din’s kitchen, you decide that you have to make more of an effort to make sure Al isn’t left out.

“Can you do me a favour?”

“Anything, pretty bird.”

“Do you think you might be able to hang out with Al tomorrow night?  I feel like he’s feeling a little neglected, and I don’t want to leave him alone.  I’d take him to Rory’s but her building has a weird no pets rule,” you pout a little as you scratch Al’s head with one hand while holding the phone to your ear with your other.

Without hesitation, Din agrees, “Sure, baby.  I’d love to have him over during poker night.  Guarantee he won’t feel lonely.”

“I’ll make some food for your poker night as a thank you!  And I’ll bring a dog bed too.  God knows I have a few to spare,” you chuckle as you scan your apartment to pick a bed to bring.

“No need, pretty bird.  I bought Al a dog bed for here already.”

“Of course you did,” you smile to yourself.  Thoughtful, thoughtful man.

And that’s how you find yourself with two big bags of food, an overnight bag each for yourself and a dog, and said dog in tow, looking up at the long flight of stairs leading up to Din’s apartment.  Luckily, you don’t have to wait very long before his thundering steps are heard and he comes to help you carry everything.  Once on the top landing, Din gingerly places everything on the ground before pulling you in close for the greeting you deserve.

“So… I’ve been thinking…” Din starts, almost shy, “Do you think your friends might like to come over and hang out here?  It won’t be a ‘girls’ night’ but there’s food and drinks and it might be fun for our friends to meet? …I mean, if you think it’s a good idea?”

Grinning at Din’s suggestion, you think outloud, “I mean, it’s not a bad idea… I’ll check with Rory and Bea, but what brought this on?”

Din answers by burying his face into your neck and nibbling on your earlobe, “Just like being with you, pretty bird.”

You relent easily, “Ok, but I’m warning you right now about playing with Rory, she’s going to take you all to the cleaner’s.”

“Good.  It’s been boring being the only one who wins money,” laughs Paz, who has suddenly appeared.  Giving Din a pointed look, “Hey, you know, the gentlemanly thing is to help the lady carry her bags inside,” before giving you a big bear side hug and greeting you with his new nickname for you (“Hey, Lil’ Lady.”) He picks up the food bags and heads in, passing Bo who’s on her way onto the landing to say hi.  For one reason or another, you haven’t seen her since Jimmy’s fight night; after a big hug, she looks at you with seriousness, “Thank god you’re back.  This one,” she jabs a thumb at Din, “was an unbearable grump while you were apart.  Please never leave us again.” She takes Al’s leash from you, and leads him inside the apartment; a second later you hear a raucous cheer of “Alfredo!!” followed by Al’s happy barks.

After setting out the food you brought (caprese sandwiches, sugar dusted mascarpone-blueberry turnovers, bruschetta) and putting what needs to be warmed in the oven (garlic knots, salmon-onion dip, turkey meatball pops), you text the girls and receive an enthusiastic response to the suggested change of plans.

Sitting on Din’s lap to give him the good news, you pass around the sandwiches to the delight of the players already seated at the big card table Din set out for the occasion.  You’re excited that the Mandos that are here tonight will get to meet some of your friends and you tell them so.

“Looking forward to it!  And… you get to meet Poe tonight,” says Koska, with an almost apologetic look.

“Who’s Poe?” you ask, curiously looking around at the facial expressions of the Mandos, ranging from eye rolling to what can only be described as shit eating grins.

Din explains, “He’s Boba’s son.”

“And you guys… like him?”

“We have to,” quips Paz, which is met with laughter from the group, “but we also do for real.  He’s just… a lot.”

Mayfeld chimes in, “He’s all about having good time; always trying to up the ante cause he’s got ‘My dad’s a big deal’ energy and always has.  Used to start shit for fun when we were in school cause he knew no one could do anything to him.”

“I remember it more like he would start trouble with that smart mouth of his, then one of us would have to finish it.”  Paz looks at you, “Used to be me and Din standing between him and a bloody nose, every damn time.”

Din appears to be a bit more forgiving of the past, “He’s calmed down a bit now… still has the smart mouth and a lot of energy, but blows off steam in more constructive ways… like poker instead of all night partying.  Which is like the rest of us, really…”

Jimmy reaches past you to grab a sandwich, “Yeah, the rest of you old timers…”

“What was that?”, Bo cocks an eye brow at the young boxer, who smartly pretends to be incredibly invested in selecting the right sandwich.

Wrapping his arms a little more tightly around your waist, Din draws soothing circles on your thigh with his fingers, “Don’t let Paz give you the wrong impression of Poe; he’s just bitter because he was always the one who ended up getting in trouble when someone wanted to kick Poe’s ass.”

Paz huffs, “Yeah, getting in trouble for defending him when he probably should have taken a pounding; kissing someone else’s girlfriend half the time.”

“Omigod” you giggle, as Paz puts Jimmy in a loose headlock; revenge for the “old timers” comment.

Woves pipes up, “Oh yeah, he’s still a shameless flirt.  Warn your friends.”

“Warn her friends?! Warn herself!” exclaims Koska.

“He’s mainly all talk though.  Lisa would slit him from balls to throat if she ever caught him cheating,” Woves explains, seemingly to you.

“Caught him again, you mean,” Koska grimaces.

“Oh shoot.  I forgot about that girl on the yacht.”

“I wasn’t even thinking about Fennec’s birthday party, but yeah she was pissed.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“Donut shop,” chime in Bo, Mayfeld, Din and Paz in unison.

“Lisa is his girlfriend?” you ask, unsure.

“His wife.  And the mother of his two beautiful kids.  They’ve been together since high school.  On and off, if you haven’t guessed already,” Bo looks embarrassed, even though she has no reason to.

Din hooks his chin over your shoulder and says gently, “That was in the past, though.  They’ve worked through it and he’s been good.”

“Nah.  I bet he just got good at not getting caught.  Always assume cheating until proven otherwise, is what I say,” pontificates Mayfield.

“And that, Mayfeld, is why you’re single,” snickers Woves.

“Right, and you’re beating them off with a stick,” counters Mayfield.  The group laughs, but you find yourself quiet.  You know the Mandos are just joking around and that they’ve all known eachother forever, but you can’t help but bristle a little at the casual way they talk about Poe’s past (and potential?) infidelity.  If the rest of the Mandos are anything like Din, you know they value loyalty and fealty, but did their sense of unwavering commitment not extend to partners?  You and Din haven’t officially discussed exclusivity; you had assumed that like you, Din wasn’t seeing anyone else – but maybe that wasn’t the case. 

You can feel yourself getting in your own head and before you can help yourself, an image of Din kissing someone else flashes before your eyes and your heart constricts painfully.  Sliding off of Din’s lap, you excuse yourself to go check on the food in the oven; you make to busy yourself with taking out and plating the food, but you can’t help it, the heart-breaking image has taken root in your mind.  You’re mad at yourself for spiraling so quickly over something created entirely by your own overactive imagination.  Yes, you haven’t confirmed your relationship status with Din, but he hasn’t given you any reason to give any weight to your sudden anxiety.   This stabbing pain in your chest is entirely of your own making and you feel so much embarrassment that you start to tear up a little bit, which makes it even worse.

You’re not sure how long you’re in the kitchen wallowing, but it must be a while because Din comes in looking for you, “Need any help, pretty bird?”

Turning away from him, you say quietly, “No, thank you though.  I should have everything out in a minute.”

And just like that, Din knows something is wrong; he makes sure you don’t have anything in your hands before wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling his nose right behind your ear and kissing your neck lovingly, “I’m here, baby.”

He doesn’t ask you what’s wrong, even though he wants to know.  He doesn’t ask how he can help, even though he would do anything to make it better; he just wants you to know he’s there and that you can come to him on your terms.  You turn in his arms and bury your face into him, breathing in his soothing scent and instantly feeling calmer.  Face smooshed into his chest, you mumble, “Dhnn, dyoothkchhhteenisohhhk?”

Din chuckles, “Sorry, pretty bird, I don’t think I caught that.”

Leaning away slightly, but not making eye contact, you re-ask your somewhat loaded question in a quiet voice, “Din, do you think cheating is ok?”

Cupping your jaw and tilting your head up to meet his concerned eyes, Din says gently, “No, no, I don’t, sweetheart.  What brought this on?  Is it because we were talking about Poe?”

You sigh a small sigh, “I guess so.  You just seem to all be so… okay with his cheating history?  At least everyone talks about it so casually.  And I’m guessing you all know Lisa too… I feel so bad for her if everyone is talking about how her husband cheats like it’s so normal or something…”  You collect yourself and take a deep breath, “Din, actually, no, I’m sorry.  That’s being presumptuous.  You’ve all been friends forever and have so much shared history… I don’t mean to assume anything about your friendships.  I just… I didn’t know if the way Poe’s cheating seems to be no big deal… means that all cheating is no big deal.”

“I see,” considers Din.  He knows this is a serious topic and it obviously means a lot to you, but he can’t help but find your anxious state somewhat endearing, you aren’t usually so flustered and it makes him desperately want to scoop you up in his arms and soothe away your worries.    He bends down to give you a little peck on your lips before picking you up by your waist and placing you on a free space on the counter.  He doesn’t want you to be able to avoid eye contact with him when he answers, “Pretty bird, I don’t blame you for getting the wrong idea.  You’re right, we probably are too casual when we talk about Poe’s exploits.  It’s been going on forever, and he’s kind of like… a show that we get front row seats for?  Like a celebrity kind of?  We love him, and he give us something to talk about, but the way he lives is not the way we live.  He lives in a totally different world than the Mandos; when you’re the boss’ son, you play by different rules.”

You gaze reverently at Din as he so patiently and lovingly talks you down from your self created ledge and can’t help but let a little smile crack.

“Poe… well, you’ll see.  Poe is Poe.  Can’t be mad at him.  And sometimes that makes it seem like the shit he pulls isn’t that bad.  But, baby, for ourselves?  I promise you, no Mando has ever been a cheat.  It goes against everything we stand for; we don’t cheat each other, we don’t cheat the family, and we definitely don’t cheat in our relationships.  And I swear to you, baby – I never have and would never cheat.  Not on anyone, but definitely not you.”  Leaning in to alternate soft kisses to your lips, your neck, the corners of your mouth and your nose, Din’s voice gets low and husky, “Why would I want anyone else?  You’re my dream girl.  You make me laugh and smile.  You’re so sweet.  And the smartest.  You know how smart you are?  I’m obsessed with everything that comes out of that mouth.  I could listen to you talk about anything for hours.  Days.  And you’re beautiful, and kind, and you take care of me, and my friends.  Just look at how much effort you put in to the food for tonight when you didn’t have to even bring anything at all.  I’m so lucky.  Why would I ever want anyone else?”

“Oh Din,” you whisper, marveling at Din’s talent for saying all the perfect things; you had wound yourself up inexplicably tight, but he knew exactly how to calm you and pull you out of your dark place, “How do you always know what I need to hear to feel better?”

“It’s actually very easy, sweetheart.  All I need to do is tell you the truth,” murmurs Din, as he starts to deepen the kisses, “Actually, scratch that.  I lied a bit, I’m just obsessed with this mouth, period.  Love kissing this mouth.  Love when this mouth opens up for me.  How it feels pressed on my skin.  The way it takes my cock…”

“Oh fuck, Din-“

“…but the thing I love the most about this mouth is the sounds it makes when you come,” Din buries his face into your neck, nipping at your sensitive spots as you cross your ankles behind his back and pull him closer.

A round of raucous laughter from the poker table pulls you out of your arousal laden haze and away from Din, both of you panting lightly.  Looking in Din’s eyes and finding nothing but sincerity, you feel comfortable enough to broach the last of your overblown concerns, “Din, if you were seeing other people though, I couldn’t be mad, I guess.  It’s not like we’ve had any talks about exclusivity.”

At first, Din isn’t sure if you’re being serious, the idea so absurd to him.  But when he sees you start to chew your bottom lip nervously, he placates you, “Oh, pretty bird, I didn’t think we needed to have a talk about it.  I’ve been exclusively yours since I met you in the coffeeshop.  I was yours and only yours before I even knew your name, before I knew if I would ever see you again,” Din leans his forehead against yours and you can barely breathe from his romantic words.

When you sigh, relaxed, Din grins, “Feeling better, sweetheart?”  Looking up at him, your eyes bright, you smile and nod happily.  As he helps you hop down from the counter, you cheekily ask, “Don’t you want to ask if I’m seeing anyone else?”

Din stills, hands frozen where they were holding your waist not a moment ago, “Are you?”

Now you can’t help but be mischievous, “And if I were?”

Eyes darkening, Din reaches for you, “Baby, I-”

At that moment, your phone buzzes and you’re saved, “Oh!  Bea and Rory are downstairs!  I’m going to let them in!”  You grab a plate of garlic knots and practically flounce out of the kitchen, depositing the plate at the poker table before exiting the apartment.  You’re about halfway down the stairs when you hear the outside door being buzzed open, and see the smiling faces of your friends along with a the attractive face of a dark haired man you don’t recognize.

The man is chatting animatedly with Bea, his smile lighting up his whole face.  He is quite handsome, you admit – soft longish curls frame his face and he’s mainly clean cut with just a hint of a shadow, giving you a clear view of his chiseled jaw.  His lightly hooded eyes are bright and full of mirth, and his expression is currently so energetic he has a charming, almost boyish look about him. 

You wait for the trio on the second-floor landing; Rory spots you first (“Babe!!”) and rushes up the last few steps before enveloping you in a big hug, the bags in her hands full of clinking wine bottles.  You giggle and give her a big kiss on the cheek, “Is this overkill?” as you peek in her bags and find 7 bottles (2 Cabernet Sauvignons, 2 Sauvignon Blancs, 2 Beaujolais [that’s for you], and one bottle of Rosé).

Rory shrugs, “Didn’t know what everyone would like?”

“That’s why I brought tequila!  Everyone hates tequila!” quips the stranger, beaming widely.

“…and tequila hates everyone,” you smile and introduce yourself while pulling Bea in for a hug.

“Poe!  Poe Dameron!  You must be Din’s girl.  Must say, I can see what the fuss is all about,” he winks, “Guess it’s true what they say, beautiful girls only hang out with other beautiful girls.”

You’re so confused.  The line is so cheesy.  And you know about his flirting from the Mandos… but you’re not creeped out?  Apparently you and your friends are not immune to Poe’s famous charm and earnest brown eyes and you suddenly understand what Din meant when he said you just can’t be mad at Poe.

“Dameron!” comes a shout at the top of the stairs; it’s Paz, with a look of impatience on his face. Unless you’re Paz, you chuckle to yourself.

“Sorry, Heavy P! Got distracted, I mean, even you can’t blame me,” Poe flashes his winning smile again before angling out his elbows and offering up his arms for any willing woman to take.  Letting your friends have at it, you walk ahead and mouth to Paz as you get to the top, “Omigod.  Heavy P?!?”

Paz rolls his eyes and shakes his head (“Lil’ Lady, don’t.”) before muttering, “I swear to god,” and holding out his hands to take the wine from Rory and the bags of food from Bea (which you now realize that Poe notably did not offer to help carry).

You enter the apartment as a comical looking group: Paz laden down with bags that he carries directly to the kitchen (scowling), you looking amused (eyes wide with a kind of astonishment at the scene that just played out), then Poe bringing up the rear, making a grand entrance with a beautiful woman on each arm, grandstanding like a debutant making her entrance at the cotillion.  Al makes a beeline for Rory and Bea when he spots them, and they readily abandon Poe to greet the pup; you have to stifle a snicker when you see Poe’s look of disappointment at having been upstaged by a dog.

“Told you he’s a lot,” a voice whispers in your ear; you turn to find Din grinning at you.  He gives you a little kiss on top of your head before going to greet and welcome your friends.  Introductions are made and everyone gathers around the card table so that those who are playing can play, and everyone can chat, drink and eat.  The Mandos are incredibly hospitable and warm towards your friends; you don’t know if it’s out of kindness to you and Din or just because they really are a friendly bunch, but it fills you with joy to see your friends so well taken care of.  To no one’s surprise (not even Bea or Rory’s), Poe insists on pouring everyone a shot of the tequila he brought and plays deaf to people’s protests.  Rory downs hers without complaint before going back to her cards; you wrinkle your nose in disgust at your shot and when Poe isn’t looking, Din drinks yours, and you see Mayfeld nonchalantly do the same for Bea.  Poe just goes about his business, pouring himself more shots and chaotically raising bets while telling wild story after story about the people in the room (usually targeting the last person who called his hand).  He’s entertaining for sure, and he's seems less interested in winning at poker than he is getting everyone to have a good time.  It’s working.  Poe’s energy is infectious and the tequila is effective - the party gets livelier and livelier as the evening goes on. 

At a certain point, Woves and Paz nearly get into it after Poe (deliberately?) exposes his hand and everyone decides it’s a good time for a break so people can stretch and get more food.  You and Bea flop down on the couch with your wine, and a few people, including Poe, come over to join you, “So, when are you going to come and meet my dad?”

“Why would she meet your dad?” Bea asks curiously.

You look at Poe, your eyes widening just a little, mouth open to interject but having no response ready.  Without missing a beat, Poe says smoothly, “Oh, my dad and Din’s dad were best friends.  Din’s basically family.  My father’s favourite son.”

Bea laughs and you shoot Poe a grateful look, which he acknowledges only with the quickest of winks.  Din comes over, catching the tail end of this exchange; he claps Poe on the back appreciatively before sitting down and throwing his arm around you, “I think I’m done for the night, pretty bird.  Don’t have any more money for Rory to take.”

“Told you she’d clean you all out,” you giggle.

“I think both Bo and Paz are in love with her, too.  I’m not getting in the middle of that, so I’m just going to hang out here with you for the rest of the night, if you don’t mind.”

You shake your head, “Of course not, but are you sure?  I don’t want your friends to think that when I’m around, your attention is divided.”

“Oh, it’s not divided, sweetheart.” Smooth talker.  But you can’t help but feel flushed at Din’s words.

“Ok, ew.  Yeah, Dad is going to love you.  He’s been wanting Din to settle down for forever and he deep down he loves this gooey stuff,” bemoans Poe, and the group cracks up.

When the card game looks like it’s going to start up again, Bea yawns a bit and announces she’s going to go hover over Rory to gently encourage her to cash out her winnings so they can head out soon.  This reminds you that you have something for her, and you excuse yourself saying you’ll be right back.

When you emerge from the bedroom with the book you brought for Bea, you run into Din in the hallway; he’s leaning up against the wall, as if waiting for you.

“Hey you,” your smile easy and wide, reflective of how content you are with how this evening has gone.

Din moves towards you and using only his size advantage, crowds you against the wall he was just leaning against, then braces his forearm above you and peers down at you, “Hey pretty bird.”

You can’t help but let out a school girl giggle at this move.

Still holding your gaze, Din says in a low voice, “Don’t think I forgot what we were talking about in the kitchen before.”

Oh. So that’s what this little display is about; you’ve had a little time to think about it and you smile sheepishly, “Oh Din, I have to apologize for that.  Like, the image of you kissing someone else only flashed across my mind for a second and it upset me so much!  I shouldn’t have teased you with the same thing.  I’m sorry.”  You look up at Din with your most innocent, forgive-me eyes.

Din softens internally; he had been prepared to tease you mercilessly, but now looking down at you and feeling a little bad that you had been upset earlier, he’s tempted to let you off the hook.  Maybe.  

“Pretty bird, I’m sorry you had even a moment’s doubt and that it upset you; in case it’s not clear, I’m yours and yours only.  There isn’t anyone else, baby.  Couldn’t be anyone else.”

You melt under Din’s words and you want to make sure he knows how you feel too, “I feel the same way.  You’re so sweet, and kind, and caring, I can’t believe you’re real sometimes.  You make me so happy.  There’s no one else for me but you, Din.”

“But,” Din leans in to whisper darkly in your ear, “if you were seeing other people…”

You gasp a little at the low edge to his voice. “…I would want to know who they were.”  Din places a light kiss on your jaw before pulling back to move to the other side of your face and when he does, the expression you see on his face makes you shiver.  “I’d want to make sure they were treating you right.”  Another light kiss on your jaw.  Switching back again to the other side to nuzzle just below your ear, he continues in his deep, sultry drawl, “But when it’s my time with you… I’d remind you of who you really belong to.”

Afraid of letting out a whimper, you bite down on your lower lip, eyes open wide while you take in Din’s words.  “The things I would do to you would make you scream out my name until you couldn't speak, until you forget every other name but mine.  And when I’m done, there wouldn’t be any doubt in that pretty head of yours that you belong to me, sweetheart.”

This time you do whimper out loud and you’re sure everyone on the other side of the wall can hear; at this, Din dips to kiss his way to your other ear and growls, “Mine.”  You feel your panties dampen at his possessive words, the low timber of his voice making your knees buckle; Din catches you by wedging his thigh between your legs and you curl your arms under his to steady yourself.  “Yours,” you whisper, “all yours, daddy.”

Din’s mouth is on yours in a flash, tongue gaining quick entrance as your soft moans escape without your permission.  He drinks you in like a man parched, chasing your taste, unable to get enough.  You match the pressing brush of his lips and the movement of his tongue, stroke for stroke; his possessive manner and almost jealous sounding tone unlocking a deep desire within you.  It’s the same part of you that loves to be marked by his mouth, his hands, his cum; that part of your being that wants Din to claim you.  You’re getting all the way lost in Din and the way he surrounds you when you drop the book you’re still holding for Bea and it makes a loud thud that silences the chattering voices on the other side of the wall. 

“Hey, lovebirds!  We can fucking hear you!” booms Paz.

“Looks like I’m not the horniest one for once!”

“Shut up, Dameron!” Din yells, but with a grin only for you, “Yeah, I’m kicking them all out now, pretty bird.”

Chuckling, you give Din a sweet kiss before picking up the book that gave you both away, “Don’t do that.  We need to give Rory time to take all of Poe’s money.”  Winking, you turn to blow Din a kiss before rounding the corner to a chorus of hoots and hollers.

---

Poker night has been so much fun, you’re almost sad it’s over.  Everyone ate and loved the food you and the girls brought over; Mayfeld quietly apologizes for eating over 70% of the garlic knots and on behalf of everyone else who plan to politely demand that you supply the food for all future poker games.  To no one’s surprise, Rory leaves the poker game the big winner, having taken nearly everyone’s money and also the hearts of both Paz and Bo.  Jimmy and Brian encourage you to invite your friends to the next big fight, making sure to do so in Bea’s earshot.  Woves and Koska, both wine drunk, fight over who gets to take Al out for his nighttime walk; a fight they both lose when Din steps in and declares clearly that Al’s late-night walks are spoken for.  Poe, to (poorly) quote Pride and Prejudice, simpered and smirked all evening and made love to them all – you concede that the Mandos were right, he really is the life of the party. 

After everyone leaves and you put your girls in a cab, you and Din set out on your nightly walk with Al.  As you stroll through the neighbourhood, still bustling despite the late hour, you feel Din pull you closer into his side and you respond by hugging his waist and looking up adoringly at him, “I think Al had such a good time tonight, Din.  Thank you for letting me bring him.”

“Of course.  Al’s my boy.  What about you, pretty bird?  Did you have a good time?”

You nod truthfully, “I really did.  I think everyone had such a good time and your friends were so, so nice to my friends.”

“Even Poe?”

“Especially Poe.”  You both chuckle and continue the walk in comfortable silence for a bit.  Deep in thought about the serious discussion the two of you had in the midst of all the fun tonight, Din wants to make sure you’re feeling okay, “How are you feeling about what we talked about?  I know some of the stuff with Poe made you a bit uneasy.”

“Mmmhmm, I went to a bad head space for a bit, but you pulled me out.  Thank you, Din,” you say, lightheartedly, your easy tone suggestive of having moved past it.

“I’m always here for you, pretty bird.”

“And I’m more than okay with what we talked about,” you add; it’s an innocent enough response, but now you’re thinking about how hot your conversation in the hallway was.  Recalling Din’s dark expression as he talked about making you his has you squirming and you feel the warmth of your arousal start to seep through your panties.  When you finally make it to the sidewalk outside of the gym, you decide to broach the topic again.

“Din?”

“Yes, baby?”

You consider how to ask for what you want, “When we get home, do you think you can.. I want you to… do what you said in the hallway?”

Din tilts his head slightly to convey he’s not sure what you mean.

Suddenly shy, the words spill out in a hurry, “I want you act like I’m seeing other people, and then I want you to fuck me hard until I forget that anyone exists but you.”

Realization hits Din like a freight train and he’s overcome by his need to have you right now, “Is that what you want, pretty bird?  You want me to make you scream my name so many times you don’t need to know any one else’s?”

You nod, biting your bottom lip, “Fuck me and claim me, daddy.”

“Holy fu-, I can do that.  But tonight, I’m not your daddy.  You only call me by my name.  Got it, pretty bird?”

Wordlessly, you nod again.

“Good girl.  Now get upstairs.”

Go to: Ch. 11 Addendum - After The Poker Game

[unholyverse]

awtto toronto is my ryden seattle: a rambling

yeah yeah ik ryden seattle has been debunked but this is similar enough to that and seems more plausible so. bear with me here. thanks to my good friend @filthyjanuary for actually watching all of this go down and having pics so i can be insane about it and write stuff like this lol.

also disclaimer before anyone tries calling me out. i don't actually know anyone in the band and this is all speculation for the sake of good ol fashioned real person fiction meaning don't take this too seriously and don't show this to the band or anyone connected to them. cool? cool.

night one: september 4, 2022

waterparks were on their final opening spots (if you don't count la night 4) of their leg of mcr's return tour in toronto at scotiabank arena.

this was already a strenuous tour despite the short length because not only would this mark parx's first time playing arenas, but it directly followed their run on the sad summer tour that year, putting some extra strain on them. in some of my mutuals' words, awsten was annoying and sounded like shit.

up to this point, waterparks had been doing free meet & greets after shows. however, this would be the only show (besides la) they would not do m&g because awsten posted this on his story at roughly 11:21 pm.

however, he was seen leaving the venue with otto roughly around 10:50 pm. a fan had caught them outside the venue by the buses and tweeted about the experience.

(note: the tweet embeds have timestamps in UST; these tweets were posted on the 4th at 10-11pm EST and the UST version is equivalent to that)

not anything too weird. they just left the set earlier than the rest of the band and crew since awsten was feeling out of it; lucas and geoff were seen leaving during the last song anyway.

the weird stuff starts with the fact that otto flooded the showers backstage (audio taken from this interview).

otto estimates that around 2:00 am, he was scrambling to find custodial staff to help him clean up his shower mess (literally a situation only he of all people would get in lol).

weird though, right? if otto was so concerned with cleaning up that mess, why would he leave with awsten long before he even tried? and even then, why would otto leave the set of his favorite band ever to go with awsten?

also let's shift to the day after: supposedly an anon of mine had met awsten in a starbucks the next day and said he was wearing the same clothes he had wore onstage on the 4th.

they also said he smelled good but he always does

this would align with a couple of things i already thought were likely. there are a couple of starbucks locations in the area, but if awsten and otto had walked out on their own instead of with the crew, they were likely within a short distance of the arena to do so. as you can see there is not only a hotel within walking distance of the arena, but there is also a starbucks within the vicinity of the hotel.

there's no proper way to put this and this is just rpf madness anyway but my theory is: they were sucking and fucking that night and awsten was tired enough after he slept in his stage clothes and sprayed a bunch of cologne on him for his coffee run the next day. end of story.

night two: september 5, 2022

this show would mark parx's last opening slot for mcr before la night 4. my friend said awsten sounded better that night. can you sound better a night after getting dicked down? who knows that's an answer for science.

also after their set, parx were caught watching the show on the floor and awsten was sitting down with otto's hand on his shoulder and it was very cute.

anyway, parx were able to do once final free m&g that night. one thing to note though was otto and awsten's change of clothes between their set and the m&g.

(terrible cropping and sorry to the fan i cropped out)

as you can (kinda) see, awsten is wearing a red tank top and otto is wearing a yellow shirt during the show. however, once their set was over, awsten and otto decided to wear matching mcr merch (and not tell geoff because he's still wearing the same shirt from onstage).

what would make these two do this who knows. they're no strangers to sharing or matching clothes anyway but it is sorta funny to me how they're matching like a couple and leaving their own bandmate to third wheel that lol.

was something in the air between awsten and otto in toronto? maybe, but it's not like we'll ever know. i can only imagine what they could've done.....

[slinket]

Smutmas Day Something

I'm so far behind at this point, I've decided to use multiple prompts per written smut. I've found that I prefer to write in long form anyways, and also I am posting all of the rest of them before 2024 if it freaking wrecks me.

Anyhoo, this one is using prompts:

11 - Such a needy little thing, aren't you.

16 - "My parents are home." "Then I guess you'll have to be quiet."

NSFW, featuring Ominis because I am so freaking horny for that man

Since the night MC had made it clear to Ominis that she was not content being just friends with him, they had been exploring each other's bodies as often as possible. Her parents had remained out of town for a few nights, so they had become familiar with the others' moans and sounds of longing.In her room once more, Ominis and MC were, once again, laying atop her bed. They were both still clothed, she on her back, legs spread, while Ominis slotted himself between her legs. He was nuzzling his nose into her neck, kissing her softly nipping at her skin and then licking his tongue over the teeth marks, making her giggle.

“Are you laughing at me, darling?” Ominis sat up slightly, running his hands down her body and back up, his left hand tracing up her right arm until their hands met. He linked their fingers and slid their clasped hands above her head. His right hand moved to her hair, twisting a lock around his finger and then pulling her head to the side, bringing his mouth back to her shoulder.

“Am I being too gentle hmm? I don’t think you’ll be laughing when I suck hard enough to leave a bruise on your skin.” He flicked his tongue against her before closing his lips, sucking hard, causing the blood to rush to her skin.

“Ominis,” her voice husky with lust, lifting her hips to press against him.He pressed his body back against hers, moving his lips from her shoulder, down to her clavicle, dragging his tongue around slowly.

“Tell me darling,” his free hand moving to her chest, gently prodding around until he finds her stiffened nipple, rolling it between his fingers. “Tell me what you want.”

She lowered her voice to a whisper, “I want you to touch me,” her one hand still laced with his, she ran the other into his hair, pulling on it lightly, asking him to bring his lips back to hers. He kissed her quickly, and then held his lips above hers, not letting her open his mouth for a deeper one.

“Give me details love, where should I touch you, how should I touch you?” Ominis continued to rock his hips against hers, pausing only to press more firmly, making sure she could feel exactly how being with her affected him. MC moaned into his lips when he brought them back to hers, but each time she attempted to move her tongue into his mouth, Ominis would hold his lips closed and smirk, “tell me,” he would just say to her before kissing her gently.

She let out a sigh, “I….I want you to touch my…you know.”

“I don’t know, be specific.”

“Fine,” her voice filled with frustration, “I want to feel your fingers inside of me. Inside of my cunt.” Her words were angrily whispered, trying to meet his demands while keeping the volume low.

Bringing his lips back to hers, Ominis finally opened his mouth and let his tongue dip into hers, kissing her deeply, shifting his body to make room for the hand he planned to dip inside of her. “That I can do,” pressing his finger to her damp panties, just allowing her to barely feel the sensation of his touch.

MC sat up slightly, moving her legs together. “Ominis, I want to, but we can’t, my parents are home. He responded by forcing her legs back apart with a shrug, “I guess you’ll just have to keep quiet.”

She groaned, a mixture of excitement and worry, as she laid herself back down onto the bed. Ominis brought his hand back to her center, softly running his finger up and down her slit, letting her panties soak up more of her fluid. She closed her eyes as he pressed his thumb against her clit, one hand grabbing onto the bed sheets while the other moved to her mouth, stifling her cry.

Sliding her panties to the side, Ominis dipped his finger between her folds. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you.” Skimming his finger across her a few more times, he paused in his manipulation of her body to bring his finger to his mouth, tasting her on his fingers. His smile widened and he let out a pleasurable sigh as MC whispered to him to put his finger back, to touch her again. He could not believe how wet she was. As he slipped a single finger inside of her, the sound her pussy made was obnoxiously loud. Ominis, extremely turned on by this sound leaned his body over her once again, bringing a second finger to meet his first as he began to thrust them into her. “And here I thought your parents may hear your cries for me, I didn’t realize you would be so wet that they may end up just hearing my fingers fucking you.” He slammed his fingers into her as he whispered, taking long, deep strokes, pushing in, loving the sound of her wetness being shoved back into her. He would hold his fingers as deeply as he could, curling them upwards to bring her more pleasure, before pulling them out again. MC lifted her hips again, wanting to take more, and Ominis was ready to provide for her.

He pressed his thumb against her clit again, moving his fingers at a quicker pace. “I can hear you getting wetter for me darling.” With every thrust of his hand, the splashing sound of her liquid pleasure filled the room. Ominis knew MC was close to cumming, her body was trembling, and she was having a difficult time staying quiet. “The only thing I want to hear when you cum are the sounds your cunt will make as I fuck you through your peak.” Ominis pressed his lips to her forehead, feeling her nod in response to his demand.

As he slipped a third finger inside of her, the pressure became too much and MC tumbled over the edge, Ominis quickly covering her mouth with his hand. He could barely hear her quiet moans over the sound of the liquid pouring out of her pussy and onto his hand. One final plunge of his fingers, leaving them rooted inside of her as he uncovered her mouth only to replace that hand with his own lips, he pressed hard into her, the force of his lips mimicking the fingers inside of her.

After he pulled the final spasms of her orgasm from her, he removed his fingers and pulled away from her lips. MC went to speak, but before she could, Ominis was pushing his fingers into her mouth. “Stay quiet while you clean these off, don’t want your parents to suddenly come up here.”

[39oa]

PLS as a new stars enjoyer i really wanna know whos who in this 🥹🥹 i kill for family dynamics 🤲🤲

https://www.tumblr.com/39oa/744137614807924736/the-stars-are-like-this-is-39-yo-joe-pavelski

hi anon!!! of course i would be MORE than happy to explain and in fact am about to egregiously overexplain so apologies in advance for that >__< welcome 2 starsblr pls enjoy your stay!!! 💚💚💚

"pavs and sons" → this is our top line that consists of jason robertson (21 / "robo"), roope hintz (24 / some call him "roop", his finnish nickname is "hine"), and joe pavelski (16 / "pavs"). pavs spent over a decade in san jose and was the sharks' captain during essentially their twilight years, and he came to dallas intending to retire (which is likely to happen at the end of this year tbh) but instead revitalized a distinct second phase of his career after being placed on a line with 2124 in 2020-21, unexpectedly becoming stalwart producers for a struggling dallas stars offense (2 words: rick bowness) — robo was only in his first year with the stars and roope's career was not that much older, hence the nickname pavs and sons; although pavs is only an alternate captain because the stars already have a very established, homegrown captain, he is basically treated as our second captain thanks to his age and the vast influence he has over both our young players & the locker room as a whole :') one of his nicknames is also captain america from representing team usa on the intl stage LOL.

rest below the cut:

raising johnny -> our team's ACTUAL baby is 2003-born wyatt johnston (53 / "johnny" but sometimes we use "wyjo" lol), who was in the ohl before the 2022-23 season but managed to impress during training camp and basically forced his way onto the roster (without getting too much into it, 18-19 y/o rookies can play 9 games with the big club before burning a year off their elc, so being from the ohl at his age his only options were basically Be In The NHL Permanently or go back to ontario.) because "HE (WAS) ONLY 19!!!" and there was some uncertainty about whether he'd stay up, pavelski invited him to live at his place with his wife and teenaged-son, and now a second year into his career wyatt is STILL with them because he loves it there so much lol. the stars frequently joke about pavs being his dad/landlord, and we've gotten a ton of fun content like these quest for the stanley cup clips and other interview moments like this, this, and this.

fostering stank(s) -> logan stankoven (11 / "stank" though you will also see "stanks") is our other baby and a very recent addition to our nhl roster; he's from the same draft class as johnny, but spent last season in the whl and therefore was eligible to go to the ahl this year, where he's been cooking up a storm for half the szn. it was pretty inevitable that he'd come up at SOME point, but the perfect opportunity arrived after one of our forwards got injured and he was slotted in on short notice. like johnny, he has basically forced his way onto the team permanently by immediately performing to (and well-beyond) standard :') the fun part is that he stayed with johnny at pavs's house when he first came to dallas, though he's since moved out and found his own place... nevertheless, this was still very sweet because logan & wyatt have GENUINE history from knowing each other half their lives & winning gold for u18 team canada in 2021, and have since picked their immediate chemistry right back up on the stars's 3rd line together. (more on this later!!!)

resident glueguy tydel + otter's son -> u know how every team needs its emotional support 4th liner who is at constant threat of being dumped at trade deadline? ty dellandrea (10 / "delly" but we like "tydel" as well) is our 13oa pick who never really panned out as expected, but he's still crucial to the overall health of the locker room and beloved by many. as a small piece of the Cycle Of Mentorship that the stars subscribe to, pavs is known for basically being a deflection master and a menace in front of the net and has passed on this propensity to a lot of younger stars by doing targeted practice sessions with them, including tydel. anyway delly's lore in general is just INSANEEE because he's at the center of the stars' social fabric in a lot of ways. happily third-wheels along with the wags, gets along with the 279195 canadian slagline who mostly exist outside of any family narratives, is Publicly Liked By Roope which is kind of weird because outside of cellys roop practices jane austen levels of finnish repression, imprinted on johnny hard last year (JOINED HIM ON PAVELSKI FAMILY NIGHTS) (from this devastating webweave), has SOOO much ahl history with otter to the point that otter's baby brother sees ty as part of the family — this is also where otter saying that he and his girlfriend saw ty as their son when he stayed at their apartment during training camp comes from. which is genuinely like Absurd Things to say because jake oettinger (29 / "otter") (as a completely random aside, please look at this gifset of harls wearing otter's shirt) is ONLY 2 YEARS OLDER THAN DELLY. LIKE THE FUCK D'YOU MEAN YOUR SON???

i'm normal. okay

jbenn / "daddy" line dads -> so the stars' real captain is jamie benn (14 / multiple nicknames but "chubbs" is a signature), whoooo is a quite the contentious figure amongst stars fans but as a 2007 draftee is very much a homegrown player and still quite important to the organization. i'm ngl, stars rpf is a VERY small space nowadays in hockey fandom, but ~back in the day~ he and tyler seguin were one of The Big Ships before slowly fading as both fandom figures & stars of the team thanks to age and injury and [waves hand vaguely]. anyway while the top line on the stars has remained *mostly* set since robo was called up, the 2nd & 3rd lines still experience a decent amount of reshuffling, so wyatt is kind of jamie's fixed line son atp but they also played with tydel before we 1:1 swapped some russians and evgenii dadonov (63 / the "DADDY" in question) came in and replaced delly. so now we've had multiple "benn and sons" lines (jamie + wyatt/delly, now jamie + wyatt/logan ❗️), plus essentially a "wyatt and dads" line (wyatt + jamie/daddy) lmfao.

wedge raising harls -> robo's emotional support backup goalie is scott wedgewood (41 / "wedge" or "wedgie"), who as far as backup goalies go is like shockingly well-integrated into the stars' locker room. the piece of lore that inspired this WHOLE post is that taylor dropped an article on how wedge claimed to basically be RAISING HARLS WITH HIS (recently-married!) WIFE...??? which is just. thomas harley (55 / "harls") is one of our resident baby d-men and was in and out of the ahl for a while but has been Officially with the stars since last years' playoffs... he's a very like, self-assured but kind of introverted, Beyond-His-Years type who literally has the voice of a 50 y/o, so it's both DEVASTATING and hilarious 2 me that wedge is like "oh, this 22 y/o kid likes to show up to my house every day and me and my wife are teaching him how to cook and he keeps facetiming me to ask random questions about his bills." LIKE OH... OKAY THEN ;___;

& last but not least: the ultimate Mini Family on this team that i didn't mention in my orig post is actually the finnish mafia — see robo constantly joking about them being brothers and loving each other lol. finnmaf currently includes four players (roope, miro, esa, jani... rip kivo 😔), and they kind of help split the stars' locker room into several groups including the finns, the ontario guys, robo's goaliefucker / Nerd_Collector ensemble, and... well honestly the cliques overlap a lot (which is why our locker room is so healthy!!!) but you get the idea.

there is soooo much other lore i could get into that isn't really related to dad/son/brother narratives but i feel like this is enough of an infodump so i'll stop here for now. in general the way the stars are constructed makes it really clear why they all see one another as family and why there is such a strong & positive & sustainable sense of personal leadership that permeates the locker room... benn handles Official captain duties while pavs uses his experience not to usurp him but simply to further support him in understated areas of mentorship/leadership, and our top line consists of 3 Very unassuming & responsible player archetypes which crucially trickles down to all the other lines. so while many teams have their Old Guys (who are often on a noticeable decline) and Kid Lines, the stars are cool because we've been successful at integrating young players with very established veterans and having them feed off of each other without sacrificing their development or "anchoring" any young talent unnecessarily; benn is really not the player he used to be but he's still been great with wyatt over the past 2 years. and pavs IS a total anomaly, so it's kind of insane & surreal that a guy in his late 30s can perform at such a high level while also taking it upon himself to prepare so many of our young guys to be the present & future of our team *__*

tl;dr: also i just remembered that the amazing @starscelly has a preexisting primer from last year so feel free to check that out too :') (the primary differences are basically that we replaced domi for duchene and recently picked up chris tanev haha)

[mortal-kombat-1]

Because I've done blocked a few since my last 2 Janet Cage edits, I'm gonna make myself PERFECTLY clear:

I don't give a fuck if you like her or not. My blog. I promise, I won't miss you or even notice.

"I hate the name Janet. It sounds so generic!" So fucking what, so is Johnny and I ain't seen you all complaining about that.

"She's so annoying. I hate her hair and she's manly looking!" She's built, what happened to the we support all women no matter what they look like on this hellsite? Only when you find them attractive? Wanna share a picture of your face? Also, guess who else is annoying? That's right, Johnny. Who she's literally based on...

"Ew, gender swapped..." It's an alternative timeline where Johnny was born female, something that's not even remotely new in media. Are you 12? Wait, I take that back, I'm sure a majority of 12 year olds have more common sense than those complaining right now.

You don't have to use her in the game -- like all kameo's she's optional.

"She's a wasted slot!" Again, you don't have to use her AT ALL. I could say the same about a lot of the characters but then again, I play because I enjoy the games. If a character I like isn't included, I go back to one of the games they're in and play that game instead of bitching until one day, they end up back in any future games.

"It should've been so and so!" There are more characters being released; files in the game points towards a few -- to avoid spoilers for those who don't wanna know, I won't mention who.

My only peeve with her is they didn't give her the nose. Other than that, I enjoy seeing new characters being added -- that doesn't include guest characters, my opinion differs there, but I still don't cry about it.

"We were promised Johnny Cage!" He's already in the base game, and you all would still cry there's too much Johnny. My guy, I've had to sit through every MK game before 10 and 11 and see everyone else get all this attention, etc. When he's the original MK character; like the very first one. He's earned his time. Shut up. And guess what, I'm more than ok with him not being a kameo. Hell, if they decide to sit him out in the next game, I'm also cool with that because as I said, I can go back to the games he's already in.

[tenebraewrites]

just like heaven / bill farrah x reader

thank you so much for reading my first lil fic ! this is a follow up that very much lives in my bill x reader universe - it's another one shot, but after this, i plan on fleshing out a full story <3  this one is rather long hehe i got a bit carried away

 also EXPLICIT!!!!!!!! warning for the contents below !!!

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    Sleep has evaded you for hours now - while Bill has drifted silently beside you, something about the motel room denies you peace. Perhaps it’s the mattress, a scientific marvel beneath your back -- it is both too hard and too soft, consisting of lumps that feel like small animals, trapped beneath thread. Or it’s the light that pours through the faded gray curtains that cover the window -- the motel sign proudly beams down, declaring both vacancy and twenty four operating hours. Bill always loathes the notion of continuous service; anything that spits in his face as wholly capitalist makes him angry. 

Laying on your side, the only comfort in a sleepless ocean has been Bill. His breathing is steady, his hands holding you gently around your middle.. Bill’s breath tickles the back of your neck - he always parts your hair so that he can inhale you. He’ll hold you, nuzzling and kissing in a parking lot, in a restaurant booth, or waiting for the gas to pump. You’ve never met anyone who loves the way you smell; certainly not when so often you smell like the scent of 7-11 soap and cigarettes.

You move slowly, feeling the mattress dip and squeak as you adjust so that you can lay face to face with Bill. You knew it was love when you first met him; your heart did a flip, an urgent warning that you were in trouble. But you knew it’d be the only love, when the smallest details about Bill made you sigh happily.

His bangs, cut roughly (Bill lovingly maintains his mullet, but his bangs are a haphazard afterthought) rest against his forehead - the sun always brings out a deluge of freckles across his skin. The sun has been beating down against your skin for days; you’re out in Nevada, hunting ghosts and getting lost in Bill.  He’s adorned his face with a few tattoos - you trace them now over and over in your head, cataloging his ink for when sleep finally comes.

Maybe it’s the heat of your gaze on his skin that stirs Bill from his slumber, or maybe it’s that he’s no longer holding you, that interrupts his rest. Bill’s eyes slowly part, seeking out your needy stare.

“Hey.” Bill’s slowly blinking you into focus, pulling you to his chest as he shakes off the last vestiges of sleep. You know he’s tired from driving; you’d like to protest, tell him to go back to sleep, but he’d never listen.

“Hi.” Your words are slightly muffled as you burrow into his neck, adopting his beloved ritual of nuzzling; you breathe him in, and all is right in the world. 

His hands rub your back, dipping beneath the worn out shirt you’re wearing so he can touch you - his fingers are warm, his calloused fingertips heavenly across your skin.  

“You can’t sleep.” Bill says, his voice quiet and neutral - it’s neither an accusation of annoyance, nor is it a question.

You nod into his shoulder, slotting one of your legs between his. There isn’t a good reason why you can’t sleep and there never has been. It’s a terrible dichotomy you exist in; you always long for sleep, but your body violently revolts against the notion at appropriate hours for rest. Your mother used to say you were lazy, then you’re just a teenager, then simply you’re hell-bent on always making things harder for yourself. Unfortunately, you’ve developed a sneaking suspicion she was correct with the last assertion. You’re no longer a teenager, and lazy -- Bill says it's a mindset meant to shame the working class for not bleeding themselves dry. Only your self-destructive tendencies remain. 

“You could read me a bedtime story.” You pull back, resting your head beside his on the pillow. He matches your smile with an equally toothy grin - you love when his face lights up and it’s only for you. 

Bill’s still stroking your back, his movements languid; but his expression has shifted. He’s wide awake now, and a tell tale smile has begun to spread across his features. It’s a sly and quiet expression you know well. The hands beneath your shirt gently roll you onto your back, as he moves to hover above you. His face is pressed against yours, his nose gently kissing the tip of yours; you’re both still for a moment, enjoying the moment.

“Maybe.” 

He kisses you, his lips soft and warm against yours. Your kisses are sweet and slow, as your arms wind across his back. Bill’s pressed against you, holding your bottom lip hostage until he earns a muted whimper. His hands are roaming beneath your shirt, inching the fabric up bit by bit, until common sense demands you discard it altogether. 

The shirt slips above your head, making every inch of your skin known to him, you’re laid utterly bare. Bill always gazes at you like it’s his first time seeing you naked; he pauses, his face marked with awe. A blush across your skin always follows, bringing him back to you - he kisses you again, before dipping his head. 

He takes your left nipple into his mouth, gently pulling and twisting it with his lips; each of these ministrations sending a jolt down your body. Bill knows how sensitive your breasts are, and so he takes great care to lavish each breast with attention. He licks your right nipple twice, before taking it between his lips; you moan contentedly, teasing his hair with your fingers. You can feel the heat pooling between your legs, and though you’d never want to, it’d be impossible to deny how much you needed him.

“Bill.” Already you’re reduced to a status where his name is your only anchor, your only refuge. The fingers that were lightly tugging his hair, are now trying to push him away; to make him go to where you need him the most. But Bill adores teasing you, pushing and pulling you to the brink until you finally explode. He hums quietly, his mouth continuing to alternate between your breasts. 

You huff, tugging his hair. “You’re supposed to be getting me to sleep.”

In lieu of treating you to a verbal reply or rebuff, Bill simply lifts his head - his eyes are wide, calm. He pushes himself forward, giving you a quick kiss. Your hands shift to hold him once more, but he’s gone before you’ve finished moving - his lips cover the expanse of your stomach, your hips, the soft skin of your thighs. The day had been so long that you’d slipped into bed without bothering to put on underwear; you’re thankful now that Bill won’t have a slip of fabric to tease you with. 

Bill’s fingers part your folds gently, brushing gently across your clit to test your sensitivity - your hips raise involuntarily, eagerly anticipating the replacement of his tongue. But Bill pauses as he always does, raising his eyes to meet yours. A hot flash covers your skin when he looks up at you - you’ve never been able to look at anyone eating you out before. His eyes are so blue, so wonderfully aflame. 

“Yes?” Bill’s hands are stagnant, awaiting your reply.

“Yes. Please.” A year ago you wouldn’t have recognized the needy whine of your own voice; no one has ever made you need this so bad.

Bill doesn’t offer a verbal reply - he doesn’t need to. His tongue swipes against your clit, once, twice; he’s teasing you. Gripping your hips, Bill’s grounding you to the bed; you can plead, push, pull his hair all you like. You’re bent to the mercy of his pace, which is always grueling. 

He’s kissing every inch of you, alternating between artfully using his lips against where you’re most sensitive, and sweetly kissing your thighs. With your head propped up on the pillow, you are afforded a perfect view - his lips are wet, and you’re leaving a mess across the sheets. Attentively, Bill looks at you, as he suckles and laps at your clit - his gaze is as potent as anything he can do with his mouth. 

“Bill, Bill, Bill.” You’re sweating, your legs now propped up against his shoulders; toes beginning to curl, hips rotating in gentle circles, chasing your high. Bill has never demanded you moan his name or call him anything in particular; he gets off on whatever pleases you. But you know whimpering his name sends a flush down his neck, and if you were positioned differently, you’d see a rough outline in his boxers. 

His hands leave your hips to trail across your stomach, to envelope your skin in his touch. All of you desire Bill; he’d never accept such a thing, but every fiber of your being is his. There is never the slightest moment of melancholy spared for past lovers - no one could have reduced you to this. Bill’s pace has increased, no longer playful and teasing. His mouth never leaves you, and he works you with fervor. Bill had been almost shy the first time you’d had sex; you’d remarked on his racing heartbeat until he’d eaten you out, and you’d temporarily forgotten how to speak.

Your hips are moving against his mouth, as your hand anchors his mouth to your core; you’re panting, breaths coming in fast and hard. The pleasure is all encompassing, and you’ve begun to lose focus of anything that isn’t Bill and your building orgasm. Bill’s tongue has resumed its strokes against your clit, but he’s increased his pace; Bill always knows when you’re close. 

“Bill.” It’s a quiet declaration, squeaked out before you’re lost to the sensation. You close your eyes when you come, pleasure overtaking every inch of your body; it is a white hot flame, making you forget everything - only Bill and his mouth, unrelenting in its pace, remain. Your toes are locked in a tight curl as your hips grind against him, prolonging the electric pleasure that’s arched your back and made you dig your nails into his scalp. The motel and its thin walls have faded away- you’re vaguely aware of your strangled cry, and the rough way that you’re pulling his hair -- his teasing has made your orgasm last a lifetime. 

Only when you’re so overspent and sensitive touch becomes unbearable, do you open your eyes - squirming, you wiggle beneath Bill’s hold. His eyes meet your for a second, and there’s something wonderfully devilish and indignant in his gaze; he’s held you like this before, bringing you to the brink so many times you’ve forgotten your own name. 

When you find your voice, it is high pitched and breathless. But your request is pure, and your ardent intention breaks through the squeaky cadence. “Come here.” 

It’s a simple demand, and Bill is never one to deny you. Bill releases your hips, and pulls back, kissing your thighs gently. His kisses aren’t wanton, they’re sweet - tender expressions of love. You reach your arms out to him lazily, lacking the energy to pull him to you.

Bill presses a final kiss to your pelvic bone, before climbing back onto the bed - he’s gentle as he slides onto the mattress beside you, pulling you across his chest. You curl into his side, eager for the sensation of your skin against his. He kisses you sweetly, holding your chin like an anchor. You kiss him back eagerly, satisfied but never depleted of desire for him in any way. When a need for air and exhaustion finds you both, you pull back and rest your head against his chest. Sliding your leg across his, you’re aware of how hard he is. But Bill’s eyes are closed, a look of content across his face - he looks like he’s seconds away from falling asleep. 

He knows you’re studying him, and answers your gaze with a wry smile, his eyes still closed. “I love you.” 

You pause, the instinct to return the phrase disrupted by a lingering question. Your hand trails down his stomach, pausing to touch each tattoo, before resting at the base of his stomach. 

“I love you too, Bill.” 

One eye opens, squinting at you. Bill’s chest is rising at an accelerated pace, his peace once more disrupted. 

“I thought you wanted to go to sleep.” He begins, opening both eyes now. His gaze alternates between your hand, tenderly stroking his skin, and your eyes. 

“Sleep can wait.” 

[ladykailitha]

All My Roads Lead Back to You Part 17

Welp. We are in the home stretch. I’m almost done writing the last chapter and then there will be a small epilogue. Thank you so much for sharing this ride with me on this one.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

*

Edie isn’t exactly sure when it started happening, but she began to notice little changes in her dad’s eating habits. Some times he would go for seconds if he liked it or he would keep some kind of fruit on hand to snack on.

But knowing her dad’s past also helped her notice when he would get that thousand yard stare or when he would jump at certain sounds. Knowing that he had walked through hell, not just once, but multiple times was like slotting in a piece of the puzzle you didn’t know was missing. And just watching all the other pieces that didn’t make sense before form a complete picture.

She knew that they had told her was only scratching the surface. Things they weren’t directly involved in but didn’t want to know. After she was told about their past Mr Munson gave her permission to dig into the incident surrounding the actual fucking lynch mob that was led by a psychotic basketball star.

What made her the angriest was that the asshole died in the earthquake and never had to deal with the consequences of his actions. That the town took that as liberty to just sweep it under the rug. The police chief quietly resigned two years later. No one that was involved in the witch hunt was actually punished for what they did to Mr Munson.

So she decided she was going to make a long distance phone call. A very long distance phone call.

“Miss Thing!” Lily Byers greeted cheerfully. “To what do I owe this totally awesome pleasure?”

“Cousin Itt!” Edie greeted back. “How’s it rocking, girlie?”

“You know,” Lily said, “as much as I love traveling the world, I got soo super jelly of your prom pictures. I’m trying to convince Mom to let spend the last year of high school with you.”

“Just say the word, Cousin Itt,” Edie said seriously, “I will deploy the puppy dog eyes.”

Lily laughed. “I’m not quite that desperate. Yet.”

“Duly noted,” Edie said. “Hey, I need a favor. But first how much do you know about your parents’ high school days?”

“You talking normal angst filled love triangles?” Lily ask slowly. “Or are we talking about nightmare fuel?”

“Nightmare fuel.”

Lily let out a slow breath. “I got ‘read in’ last year.” Edie could feel the air quotes from here. “I’m guessing you’re new to the ‘my parents are fucked up’ club?”

“About a month I guess,” Edie said with a sigh. “Me and Harri Munson. They tell you about what happened to his dad? Eddie Munson? Not the monster shit, but the normies fucking shit up stuff?”

Lily let out another long sigh. “Yeah. The witch hunt of the century.”

“Can you please explain why your mother and father didn’t expose the fucking town the way they did the Lab?” Edie asked pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration.

“That is a really good question, Miss Thing,” Lily said. “And I think you just gave me new leverage against my parents over the whole high school senior year dealio. I’ll get back to you.”

“Love you lots!” Edie said.

“Love you more!” Lily replied and then hung up.

“You know,” a voice said from behind her, “that’s a pretty low blow, weaponizing your cousin that way.”

Edie whirled around to see her dad leaning against the doorframe of her bedroom. His arms were crossed over his chest, but he had an easy smile on his face.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to eavesdrop,” she said glaring at him.

“I just came to ask if you wanted pizza or kebabs tonight,” he said, his smile turning into a grin. “I did knock. A couple times in fact. But you were the one plotting world takeover with your bedroom door open.”

Edie flopped on her bed. “Is that one of the reasons we rarely get together, because we’d take over the world?”

Steve laughed. “One of many. One of many.”

Edie grinned. “I’m just correcting a miscarriage of justice is all.”

“Oh, is that all?” he asked grinning back at her. “Knowing Lily Byers like I do, I fully expect an expose by the end of the week and formal apology from the city of Hawkins and the state of Indiana to Eddie by the end of the month.”

Edie pretended to toss non-existent long hair over her shoulder. “Good.”

Steve pulled her in for a hug. “I think the reason she didn’t is because of me.”

Edie pulled away slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I think she didn’t want to stir up feelings for Eddie after he left.”

“But he left three months after,” Edie insisted. “Why didn’t she say something then?”

“Our town was nearly destroyed,” Steve reminded her. “And the government had found a scapegoat in Henry Creel, got Eddie off and all this while Eddie was still in a coma from being nearly ripped to bits. She had a lot on her mind those first three months. We all did. And then he got a record deal, he was going to be famous. She probably didn’t want to make waves for him and ruin his chances.”

“Damn it,” she sighed. “Those are all really good reason not blow up the biggest scandal since the ‘gas leak’.”

“So maybe tell Lily to ease up a bit on her mom?” Steve asked.

“Not a snowball’s chance in hell, Dad.”

Steve sighed. He figured that was the answer, but felt he had to try. At least a little.

*

School was ending and Edie and Harri both had summer school. Mandy and Kenny were free, but then they were good in school and mostly liked by the teachers.

Their rich school was a bit backwards. Probably because it had only been built in the last decade, but Mr Pearson wasn’t the only teacher that turned their noses up at old money students like Edie. She had the misfortune to be old money, too. Her family’s wealth went back as far a century at least.

She wasn’t third or even fourth generation wealthy. Her great-great grandparents were stinking rich. They were among the few families to come out of the stock market crash and Great Depression relatively unscathed. It’s why Dad’s trust fund was so sought after.

A trust fund that only grew because he may not have had a head for numbers, he had a head for business. He knew when to pull out if something was failing and when to pour more money in if they looked on the verge of discovery.

But it meant that all the teachers thought that her dad didn’t earn having his daughter at their school. So they always went a lot harder on Edie then they did her friends. All three of which had parents that came from nothing or very little to make their wealth. Mandy and Harri were both children of rock stars. Kenny’s mom invented some kitchen gadget that had taken the world by storm and now was in nearly every house in the country.

Harri was only joining her in summer school hell because two of the credits he needed to graduation next year didn’t transfer over and he had zero desire to sit with sophomores and juniors his last year of school.

“They should standardize the curriculum across the country,” Harri grumbled, kicking at a rock on their way into school.

Edie sighed. She agreed with him, but if they had she wouldn’t have a summer school buddy to be miserable with.

“I hear that,” was what she said instead. “And you should be allowed to skip a class if you don’t want to take it. As long as you get two years of math, who cares if it’s just basic math. It’s like judging a fish by its ability to climb or however that quote goes.”

“Right?” Harri agreed. “Like if what you want to go into takes heavy math that sure, you do the advanced math, but if you’re going into art and the only math you’re going to need is fractions they shouldn’t have to force you into bullshit like that.”

They both had to take a math class and a science class, so they took the same ones so that they could at least have a study buddy.

“I hate that I have to do this,” Edie groused as she flopped down in a desk somewhere near the back of the class. “It means I can’t go to the gala this year.”

“Gala?” Harri asked, sliding into the desk next to hers. “What gala?”

“The biggest event my dad does all year,” she explained, resting her head on her hands and staring off into the distance dreamily. “He’s involved in a shit ton of charities, but this is his biggest. It’s like the it party of the year and everyone foams at the mouth for an invite.”

“So why can’t you go?” Harri asked.

“Because for everyone else it’s a one night event,” Edie said, “but for my dad it’s a week long thing just prepping for it. And because I have summer school, I can’t help him. His rule has always been that I’ve been too young and that was supposed to change this year. I was going to help out and get to go. But because I have this stupid shit, I have to spend the week at Mandy’s.”

“You’re nearly eighteen,” Harri protested. “Can’t you be left home alone?”

Edie sighed. “If it was about Dad being gone all the time, sure. But it’s not. It’s held at the house. Or rather the backyard. There are people coming and going all hours of the day and night. Setting up lights, preparing food, setting up tables. It’s a whole thing. And if I want to actually pass these classes...”

Harri winced. “You can’t be around all that shit...Point well and truly taken. So what are you going to do instead?”

Edie shrugged. “Normally Mr Lawrence lets Mandy have a party that night and we stay up late watching movies, but I think the Lawrences are going this year, so I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

Harri opened his mouth to ask another question, but the teacher chose that moment to walk in and they were forced to pay attention to the class.

***

Part 18 Epilogue

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk​ @trashpocket @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @mightbeasleep @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @trashpocket @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666  @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @steddie-as-they-go @lillemilly @callas-shitshow @bisexualdisastersworld @renaissan-vvitch @immortal-iratze @bookbinderbitch @cardigangoth @lilacrobin @nightmareglitter @nerdsconquerall @stxrcrossed186

[ssspringroll]

ok time for an info post about my edited stuff folder and also some new additions to it

a lot of these are pyxis edits, but the others are also creators who dont seem to be active anymore. but if anyone is the original creator of one of the things ive edited and you're mad at me for posting my edit... sowwy. ill take it down if you ask nicely ♥

ssspringrollIntergalacticSpotsM.package

edit of: https://pyxiidis.blogspot.com/2018/02/intergalactic-supernatural-overlays.html

description: so it turns out all these years, the fem frame version of the intergalactic overlay was a little different from the masc frame and i never noticed. so i made a little add on edited version of the fem frame overlay so it fits the masc frame.

before -> after (there's shoulder spots now)

its available in all the original colors. theres 2 versions of each color though, since there were slightly different leg opacities for the masc and fem versions and i couldnt decide which one to go with. they are very minuscule differences, the shoulder spots are really the main event.

feel free to recolor this in other palettes, id appreciate it actually. took a lot of fiddling to get those spots to line up right, please! please use my edit and make recolors!

this shows up in cas (for m frame only, theres no point for f frame, they already have it) as a separate cas part. the thumbnail is the same as the original, except i slapped the word 'EDITED' over top in big red letters. hopefully you will see it.

ssspringrollPrettyVisitorsHeterochromia.package

edit of: http://pyxiidis.blogspot.com/2017/04/pretty-visitors-eyeset.html

description: heterochromia. the meshes are by me (not that i can take much credit for them, its an ea eyeball thats slightly larger than usual. thats it.) but there are L and R meshes for each age (infant to TYAE) feel free to recolor in other eye sets, the mesh follows my usual TOU. the textures, obviously, are not mine. i don't know if i managed to squeeze every swatch from the pretty visitors eyes in there, but i know for a fact all the human colors, the pooklet colors, and some other alien colors are in there. I did not do the vampire colors. sorry. maybe some day.

found in face scar and neck scar (in skin details) but feel free to re slot them to other categories for your convenience. left and right cheek might also be a good spot for them. there are two cas items, L and R, so i wanted them to be sort of close together, thats the only reason i picked the spots i did.

incompatible with glasses.

demondays

edit of: https://pyxiidis.tumblr.com/post/177241795736/demon-days-vampire-stuff-by-pyxis-some-things

description: the original texture of the gradient limb overlays was bleeding out of the leg area a little bit, which clipped into the texture area of some wicked whims body parts, making unexpected splotches. i just trimmed it back a little so it shouldn't do that anymore.

eyes

edit of: https://pyxiidis.blogspot.com/2017/11/arachnophobia-accessory-spider-eyes.html AND https://www.patreon.com/posts/29118520 (v2)

description: converted for all ages. the meshes are addons and should be installed alongside the originals, the arachnophobia overlays (PYXIS_Arachnophobia_SpiderEyes_FaceMarkingDetails_upperRightArmTat.package, etc.) are direct edits of the original package files. Delete the old packages with the same names and replace them with my edits, if you want the overlays to be available for all ages. You don't need the overlays for the meshes to work, though.

An additional slot has been made available for infants -> children in the eye details section. The meshes will not be found in that category for teens and up, just the tots.

Waay'los' folder

this sections formatted a lil different. dont worry about it.

PYXIS_Siren_MermaidGills

edit of: http://pyxiidis.blogspot.com/2018/05/siren-mermaid-accessories.html

description: edited warehouse data so that necklaces can be worn at the same time as the gills. the mesh has not been edited, so compatibility with very close-fitting necklaces like chokers is not likely (gills are bulky and will clip) but i figured thats no reason to close off the option entirely. so necklaces are allowed now. also, i changed the categories. the packages claiming to be necklaces are found in mouth scar and the ones claiming to be rings are found in face scar (skin details section, towards the bottom near acne)

⚠ NSFW [MiniGiles]LoveBelow SkyrimFantasies Reptilia Male

edit of: i dont think this ones available anymore i will be honest. i can't find a link

description: tweaked positioning of the mesh so it lines up a little better with animations. also tweaked the weight painting and uv map. it doesnt animate quite right all the time, but it gets the job done. should still show up in the ww body selector (does for me, anyway)

⚠ NSFW ssspringrollReptiliaOverlays.package

edit of: this ones original content

description: gradient overlays for the reptilia body parts in the same basic rainbow palette as my overlay minipack. found in body scar (right leg). really nothing fancy, just for a little bit of personalization. should be color slider mod compatible

no custom thumbnail

ssspringrollHorns

edit of: https://flapjack-sims.tumblr.com/post/114810983191/horns-for-sims-4-ive-noticed-the-lack-of-horns-in (MESH) https://cherryvanillasims.tumblr.com/post/163956398575/flapjacks-thicc-horns-forehead-in-noodles (RECOLORS)

description: moved the uv map and textures so now the horns are compatible with hats (and any other accessories that use the hat texture space, like lots and lots of the wing cc thats out there)

changed the category to acne. there's two packages of these horns, i think the textures are ever so slightly different between them, but its negligible. I'd recommend the ssspringrollHornsEditedForMyBoy.package version, if you don't want to grab both (which you can, they appear as two separate cas parts)

no custom thumbnail. i dont know if these require the mesh. i dont remember.

Disclaimers:

Just because I've edited these pieces of cc does not mean I'm adopting them. I cannot promise I will offer support if something breaks.

Lots of these are edits of my own personal package files, rather than edits of freshly downloaded versions. They may have been batch fixed, re-slotted, renamed, or otherwise edited over the years I have had them in ways I no longer remember.

Okay looks like thats everything for now.

I will probably add to this pile eventually, but until then, bye bye.

shoutout to @/occultradio for requesting most of the edits that aren't in the Waay'los folder. i straight up did not notice the shoulder spots until they pointed it out and likely wouldnt have done any of the other stuff either if they hadn't asked lol