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twinklelilstarkey · 6 months

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Tutor: Dress Picking

Words: 2.4k Type: Angst? Warnings: This is literally a chapter just to announce that I'm back, so, yeah, settle in folks :) because shit is about to hit the fan, but not yet.

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I do NOT give you permission to repost my work. If you’d like to read my stories on other platforms, you can find them on my Wattpad and AO3.

Hours later, when stepping into school, you are more than in a good mood. You must admit, you almost got to school late due to oversleeping with Rafe after having conversations that led until 5AM. Your headache has gone away with a simple aspirin, and most of your worrisome thoughts are in the back of your mind, safely tucked away.

You also were able to leave the house with Rafe without his family noticing, and the same thing goes for your parents. You made it home safely, put on new clothes as you had already showered at Rafe’s house, and he dropped you off at school. Your parents would never know of such a thing as they weren’t home when you got there, and you, supposedly, were with a friend of yours the whole night – one they know very well, but have no idea you don’t even speak to anymore.

Almost late or not, every minute of this morning was better than any other. You wish you were still in bed and that today was a Saturday, not a Wednesday. A day where you could just lie in bed with Rafe, talk about life, and get affection. Gosh, you would sell a kidney for that. Your poor kidneys.

You still got a few minutes in the car with him, even though different, it was still minutes that you had for yourselves. A lot of kisses and reassuring words were exchanged. As well as promises that everything will go well and nothing bad will happen. And if it does, he’ll be parked outside as soon as you call, ready to get you home.

Because of this, when the bell rings to tell you to get to class, your mind is still cloudy and warm.

You sit on your chair and stare at the empty page of a notebook while remembering the dumb ways Rafe made you laugh this morning, from the time in bed to the shower. The way his kisses were always soft and warm, and his arms would always hug you tightly and close enough for all your worries to fly away. Ugh, that kidney is about to go.

The classroom's door closes as the teacher walks inside, and the class begins. You lift your eyes off your notebook and notice a bit of movement beside you. You don’t have to look to know. Kristy wasn’t missing school again. She’s in class. In her usual seat, beside you. Her eyes are currently drilling a hole into the side of your head with all that staring, kind of hard to ignore.

Overall, the class itself is very uneventful since school is about to end, and there isn’t much the teacher can do to make everyone still find it in their will to study or work further. Due to this, the hour is slow, and there aren’t many notes that you can take from what is taught and discussed between the teacher and the other students.

In the corner of your eye, you see a small piece of paper being slid over to your side of the table, but you look away as soon as you can. You’re sure that Kristy is better than sliding small pieces of paper asking for an apology or time to talk, but maybe after the stunt that she was able to pull on you in that car... You probably need to draw new conclusions about this girl.

Throughout this one class, you continuously saw how Kristy tried to get your attention by sliding the piece of paper closer and closer or even trying to write a completely new one. You ignored all of her attempts. But also hesitated to check your vibrating phone as the possibility of it being her was just as large as the piece of paper she last tried to slide into your field of view.

The bell rang, and the teacher screamed the small assignment over the loud chatter that quickly erupted. You took a quick note of it in case you forgot it and got up to put your things away. Five different pieces of paper are just by your notebook now, and you almost want to scoff at the stupidity. Curiosity is also biting at your skin for wanting to know what is written in all of them, but you are better than that. Kristy sits there as you put your things away, almost as if waiting for you to address her or pick up her papers.

You slide your bag over your shoulder and take a step to the side to begin walking to the door. You ignore the hand that stretches in your direction to get a hold of your arm (but fails) and walk out of the room. Once outside, your phone begins to vibrate in your pocket, and you pull it out, knowing for a fact that Kristy isn't that ridiculous. The caller: Mom.

“Hello?” You say as soon as you accept the call and put your phone by your ear.

“Guess who just got invited to a party?” Your mom asks excitingly.

“You?”

“All of us!” She corrects excitingly. “Rose Cameron just called, saying that there will be a small get-together with the few families close to the Camerons at the country club. We’re all invited to celebrate your and many others' graduation. Isn't this amazing?”

You open your locker while an expression of surprise is more than obvious on your face. She continues to talk to you all about the details of the party, like how many people, what to wear and what will be there for decoration. You move your books around in the locker to switch classes, and not once do you need to speak because your mother speaks for the both of you.

The call drags out until the next bell calls you into class, yet not a new word has been said by you during the whole thing. You smile at your mom’s rare excitement for a party because, sincerely, it's hard to forget how any event organized by Rose has left your socialite of a mom more than pleased with the range of guests, food, or conversations. You’re in for a hell of a night.

“When is it, exactly?” You ask right as you get near the classroom.

“At the end of this week. Rose said something about it being a great way to celebrate the end of classes for all the graduating students invited.” She explains, leaving you to nod to yourself, “When are you free to go dress shopping?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Well, we won’t need more than an hour,” a lie, “to find a good dress for you, so as soon as you know a day we can go, call me back.”

“Will do.”

“Now, go to class. Your bell must have rung almost 5 minutes ago.”

You chuckle at her exactness and say your goodbyes before ending the call. Inside the classroom, you find everyone already seated, but the teacher is still absent. You walk towards the back of the class and ignore the same pair of eyes as before - since it seems the person has failed to gain something more interesting to look at lately.

You take your usual seat and think back on the conversation with your mother. The party doesn’t seem bad, but you can only wish for good company during it. Usually, your company in parties such as this is not exactly talking with you, much to their disappointment. And standing by your parents the entire evening doesn’t seem exactly exciting, as the conversations will be quite… uninteresting for your ears, surely.

While you occupy your free time on your phone, ignoring the constant whispering and glaring from all directions of the room, the teacher continues to take his sweet time to appear. Long enough for the guy in front of you to turn around and hand you yet another piece of paper. At this point, trees cry with all the attempts at communication Kristy happens to do.

Maybe it was how annoyed you felt. Maybe it was the fact that all their attention left you as soon as the teacher decided to walk in with a mug of hot coffee in hand. But you opened this last piece of paper. Truthfully, you did it so quick the unfolding and folding back up wasn't noticed by a single soul, and you read it.

Are you going to Cameron’s party? – Kristy

(…)

“Definitely not my color, mom.” You say for the thousandth time while looking at yourself in the mirror of the boutique.

“Are you sure? I like it on you.” She says while tilting her head to take another good look at you.

“I like the style, just not the color.” You admit to her, in a calm tone, nothing to start fights over - as you usually tend to do when picking a dress for a party your mom is so excited about. “The red looks better on me.”

Your mom gives you her usual look, ‘Well, but I hate red’, which only lets you know that this discussion about a dress will lead you to another hour of dress shopping. Nothing ever made you feel as grateful for yourself for clearing your schedule the way you did for this entire evening. As always, your mom is against any color that isn’t light and sweet or any cleavage that isn’t conservative enough. While you happen to like a lot of different styles of dresses and have dealt with your mother’s antics for years, your tastes still tend to clash.

“Red is too much, I think,” she comments, turning to look at the large number of dresses she has asked the worker to get for her. “What about blue?”

“Depends on the shade.” You try to ignore the look she sends you over her shoulder but fail miserably while looking down at the ground to chuckle.

“This one is too dark, I think.” She says while holding a silk dark blue dress with thin straps, “What about this one?”

“It almost looks white, mom. I’m not getting married.”

“Okay, Miss Picky. You pick one, then.”

It went on for hours, but soon you two came to an agreement after much begging on your part and almost on the store’s worker's part as well. You settled on a blue, not too light or too dark, dress with straps (your mother insisted). It has a straight neckline, but due to it being silk, it sits well on your chest. It tightens at your waist (again, due to your mother’s request: not too much), and its length rests gracefully at your feet – leaving you enough room to walk, but not much.

The moment you dramatically took in the fresh air outside, your mom wasn’t shy to pinch the back of your arm for the drama you decided to drag throughout the day. This also helped keep her distracted as your phone continuously received texts from a certain group of people who still are desperate to know if you were going to the party. They made it impossible for you to show her anything on your phone, like dress ideas, without her seeing the messages constantly being sent.

You take your seat on your mom’s car seat and set the bag with the dress inside by your legs, beginning to block the entirety of the group of girls on your phone. They have been asking you for, you assume, the same thing that Kristy had written in those papers yesterday in class: another conversation among all of you.

In all the messages you’ve received from them, you’ve read the ridiculous words of ‘unfair’ and ‘selfish’ all directed at you for either not answering the messages or not speaking to them in school, though all they did was stare at you once they saw you. You’re not sure you heard a single word come out of their mouths the day before or this morning. They all stayed silent while their eyes scanned your every move. It was obsessive, and they were driving you insane for it.

You’re just thankful that you were able to spend the evening with your mom, away from their gazes, as well as for the recent silence coming from your phone now that all contacts are blocked. Now you can finally relax and stop thinking about them and your conversation. But maybe you spoke too soon.

“Is everything alright between you and the girls?” Your mom suddenly asks while driving you both home. Her tone is calm and sweet, with nothing hidden behind it.

“Why do you ask?” You try to sound as calm as possible.

“I just feel like they haven’t been hanging out in our house that much lately. You’re always the one going out to see them,” She explains, not knowing that all the times you’ve gone out to see ‘them’ lately have been to see Rafe or Patty instead. “I sort of miss having the house full of girls.”

You two sit in silence while you simply look out of the window into the night, trying not to make any faces or sounds that could lead you into a lie that will snowball into the avalanche that is your current situation.

“We’ve just been busy, you know? With finals and all.”

“Will they be at the party?” She asks, still unphased by anything you’ve said.

“Yeah,” You assume, yet still make sure your tone makes you sound sure of your words.

“Well, good. I’ve missed talking to them. Maybe we can plan something.”

You almost zone out as soon as she begins to talk about the possibilities of having something cute like an afternoon tea party, or anything along those lines. How will you even be able to tell her the truth? You'll break her heart.

“Yeah…” You look out of your window again, “We could do that.”

As you continuously look away, your mother takes a look at you when stopped at a red light, with her smile still bright and sweet, ready to get one in return. But your eyes and mind are elsewhere - far away from the conversation you’ve just had. She noticed how your tone had just dipped from dramatic and happy to something so different it was hard to pick apart with such a short answer.

Your mother opens her mouth to say something, maybe even question your sudden change of mood directly, but the light turning green was enough to take her attention away. Some other time, she’ll be able to make you talk to her, confide in her about what could’ve happened to make you so moody. She’ll be there to hear it no matter what, right?

Am I back 100%? I have no idea. Did I write this while having no plans to do it? Also yes. I hope it was good!

Hope you enjoyed it!! AND HAPPY NEW YEAR!

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe smut #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fluff #drew starkey #outer banks #outer banks season 2 #outer banks season 3 #obx

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the-broken-truth · 6 months

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Missing Piece - Yandere Leona Kingscholar [Part 1]

Summary: Leona finds Yuu is pregnant with his child and demands she get rid of it; claiming he hated children and walked nothing to with the cub she was carrying. Upon refusing to do so, she ends their relationship. 7 years have passed since graduation, and Leona is working at his Father's Company but he feels like something is missing in his life. He finds what he is missing upon meeting a lost boy while on his way to work.

Broken: I don't know every single thing about Twisted Wonderland or Leona, but I really wanted to write this, so just bear with me. Here are some notes explaining a few things in this story.

Notes:

Yuu possesses magical abilities, but she is still human. Her specific magical ability is called Binding Magic, which allows her to use chains to immobilize her targets. However, she needs to be within a certain distance from her target for the chains to remain bound. Alternatively, she can use more magical energy to maintain the chains at a distance. The maximum amount of time the chains shall remain bound is one hour.

Night Raven College is an All-Boys School, so Yuu attends a school for girls.

This is a more modern version of Twisted Wonderland - The Kingscholar Family owns a major company and Leona is one of the possible heirs, but he has an older brother who is the main heir. There are still Beastmen and others, as well as magic, but they live alongside humans in this storyline.

Yuu sat alone in her dorm room, tears slowly streaming down her face as she attempted to calm herself down; stress was not good for her, not at this delicate moment in her life. She inhaled through her nose before exhaling through her mouth and opened her eyes to look around the room, she was currently in the middle of packing; graduation was right around the corner and her time at the school she was attending was coming to an end. She was excited and sad to leave this place, she made great friends and had some good times, but at the same time, there were some times she had massive regrets. One of those moments was happening right now. Yuu's attention was drawn from the room when the phone in her grasp dinged and vibrated against her palm, signaling she had a new text message. She unlocked her phone before opening the message, her eyes narrowed as more tears flowed upon reading the contents of the message and who it was from.

Leona, her boyfriend.

No.

She should not call him that anymore; no loving boyfriend would say the things he said to her earlier in the day.

Leona: You know that I love you, I really do, but I can't accept this; I refuse to. Just get rid of it and we can forget about the fight, we can continue being happy together as we planned, Herbivore. Just get rid of it.

Yuu scoffed at the message before turning her screen off and throwing the phone on her bed before placing her hand on her stomach which contained the most important thing in her life now - her child.

Yuu met Leona during a joint school event with Night Raven College as the main sponsor since it was much larger than the school Yuu came from. She was talking with some friends when she bumped into Leona and ruined his shirt with the drink she was enjoying; he literally growled at her and demanded that she apologize for ruining his shirt, but she stood up to him and told him to leave her be. This is what triggered Leona's Interest in her and he continued to follow her around for about 2 months - he somehow got her number and would constantly text her, asking her to give him a chance and she finally gave in, agreeing to a date at the cafe in the city. Things went well, better than well, and the two of them kept seeing each other until Leona asked Yuu to be his girlfriend; she agreed and life was good for them.

Alas, all good things come to an end eventually; do they not?

Yuu had been feeling under the weather for a while and her friend told her she might want to get a pregnancy test done since this feeling arrived after Yuu helped Leona out of his rut; Yuu was certain that the two of them used protection but she went to get the test anyway. Imagine her surprise when she discovered she was bearing Leona's Child; she was happy and terrified at the same time, she knew Leona wasn't fond of kids but she hoped once she told him the news, he would accept it because it was his own cub.

She called him and asked him to meet her at the cafe where they had their first date; she ordered his favorite drink and waited for him to arrive. Once he did, the two of them sat and talked about things going on in their school lives and possible plans for after graduation; once he was relaxed and Yuu had his undivided attention, she told him the reason he called him there.

The moment she told him that she was pregnant, Leona burst into a fit of laughter, thinking that she was joking, but when she told him that she was not joking and she was really expecting his child, Leona's tone changed and the next words that came out of his mouth caused a nail to hit in the center of her heart and it shattered like glass.

"Get rid of it." Leona growled out, making the young woman sitting across from her shiver in her skin; it was instant, no delay or thought given. He wanted Yuu to get rid of their child and she knew he wasn't kidding; she's been with him for a long time, and she knew that look in these green eyes. This seriousness caused tears to form in Yuu's blue eyes.

Yuu tried to keep herself together as she begged Leona to reconsider - this was another life they were talking about, a life their love had created. She understood that he wasn't really interested in children at the moment but they could adapt and watching the child grow and eventually be born could make Leona see just how precious this life was. Leona growled and glared at Yuu before he rose from his chair and hissed out his next words with venom.

"Either you lose it or you lose me."

As Leona left the cafe, a young woman was left crying alone in the booth, with her hands covering her face. The other customers looked at her with pity and concern. The barista decided to offer her a free drink and muffin, while another pregnant woman brought her a cinnamon roll. She sat across from the crying woman and introduced herself as Mira. They had a deep conversation for about two hours until Yuu returned to school. Mira made sure to give her phone number and urged her to call in case of any emergency or uncertainty. Yuu sat on her bed in silence for a while, remembering the words Mira told her in the cafe before she reached over to grab her phone and unlocked it once again before returning to Leona's Message Thread; upon collecting her thoughts and calming her heart, she started texting Leona.

Yuu: You have expressed that you want nothing to do with this child and that is your choice, that is your right as an independent individual. However, I am my own person and I shall make my own choices, and my choice is to keep my baby.

Yuu pressed the send button and waited - a response arrived 3 minutes later and she didn't hesitate to look at it.

Leona: You can't be serious. You're gonna choose a parasite that's not even alive over me?! You're willing to lose me over that thing?! Use your fucking brain, Herbivore; you need me just like I need you! That thing will only get between us! Get rid of it so we can be happy again!

Yuu typed her response.

Yuu: You told me to choose and I chose - I'm keeping my baby. My child will have nothing to do with you or the Kingscholar Name if that's what you are worried about. They shall not know your identity as their father or even as a past lover of mine. I shall give them the best life I can without you in it. All I ask is that you continue to live your life and find someone who will make you happier than I ever did. Goodbye, Leona Kingscholar.

Yuu sent the message before pressing the button on the upper right corner of Leona's Messeng Thread.

You Have Blocked This Contact

Yuu locked her phone once again before looking out the window at the full moon in the cloudless sky as the stars twinkled in a sea of deep darkness. She closed her eyes and prayed to the Great Seven that she and her baby would have a prosperous life, to give her the knowledge & resources to aid her child in whatever they wished, as well as a prayer thanking them for all they have done for her and everything they will do; once her prayer was done, she placed her phone on the charger before sliding into bed and fall asleep.

As Yuu slumbered, green eyes glared at the screen of the phone in his hand as he sat in the darkness of his room and he looked at the system message with hatred and heartbreak in his eyes.

The Person You Are Attempting To Contact Is Actively Blocking You

He snarled and threw the phone across the room causing it to hit the door and shatter into pieces, the male gripped his hair while covering his ears as the voice started coming back; the voices of doubt that once plagued him. He thought he was free from their curse when Yuu would hold him but now she was gone, she was ignoring him, and he was alone once again. He roared in anger and sorrow as he fell upon the blankets of the bed, tears flowed from his eyes until he opened his eyes once again to see the Lion Plushie Yuu gave him for his most recent birthday. He reached out, grabbed the plushie, and looked at the collar around its neck:

Leona & Yuu Forever

Leona hugged the plushie to his chest, balled himself around the plushie, and sobbed himself to sleep; she'll come back to him. She realize that he was right and she will come back to him. Everything was going to be alright and they were going to be happy once again; all he had to do was wait.

[Seven Years After Graduation]

It is said that time can heal wounds and allow scars to fade away, as well as allow us to improve ourselves for a better future; at least, that is what Leona wanted to believe.

After Leona graduated, he tried to speak with Yuu at her graduation ceremony. He wanted to explain that he cared about her and wanted to make things work between them. However, when he arrived, Yuu's best friend told him that he was too late. Yuu had already left with her parents after the ceremony. They promised to take care of her during her pregnancy and to support her until she could find a job and a place to live. Leona never got the chance to meet Yuu's parents or visit her home. It was then that he realized he had lost her forever. His heart was shattered into a million pieces.

Leona returned home and applied to work at his father's company- while he was not next in line to be the CEO, that title and right belonged to his Older Brother - Falena. Falena was rather serious about his job and family when it came to his wife and son, Cheka; Falena loved his family more than anything and he would do anything to protect them. He hated working under his brother, constantly in his shadow, but Leona was still a Kingscholar and he was not going to let his brother's high position outshine him for long; he would work harder than Falena ever could and continue to rise above.

Leona did just that and worked well with the other employees; he would always do his part and help anyone who needed it, he wasn't over-friendly but he was still respectful to those he worked with, including his father and brother in the office.

During those seven years, Leona managed to snare the President Title for himself while his father was CEO and his brother was COO; the pay was grand and the people in the office respected him, that should be everything he wanted but he could feel it - the hollow void in his heart that could only be filled by one piece, a piece he discarded and regretted ever since.

Leona moved back into his room at Kingscholar Estate and that is where he spent most of his time, lying in his bed while holding his lion plushie that was slowly falling apart at the seams; it was the only thing he had that reminded him of her and he refused to let that piece of her fade away.

Leona's Father attempted to introduce him to numerous women from respectful companies and families but he was never interested in any of them; he wanted her and none of them were her. His father would tell him that he was holding on to the delusion of the one he wanted coming back to him when it was Leona's fault she left him in the first place. Leona would snarl at him before leaving the room to leave Falena to reticle his father in kicking Leona at his weakest point; the younger brother no longer cared about being outshined by his older, his worst regret was letting go of the only person who truly understood him.

One day, Leona was out and about dressed in his suit with his satchel across his shoulder and resting on his hip; his father sent him to close a business deal with a potential new client, they were a rather small business, well, small when comparing it to the scale of the company Leona worked for but their name was getting out there and Leona's Father knew it was important to make the necessary connections the business world.

He walked down the sidewalk, eyes green eyes focused forward as his tail swayed from side to side with each step he took; he was so distracted that he wasn't really aware of his surroundings until he came to a stop when a smaller body connected with the side of his legs, causing him to look in the direction of the child and his eyes widened slightly in confusion.

The child's visage reflected his own when he was around that age with the only exception being the young boy's eyes were the deepest blue he had ever seen. He watched as the young lion rose to his feet and looked up at the man before him before bowing his head in respect.

"My apologies, Sir! I wasn't looking where I was going and bumped into you." The boy said before looking up at Leona with a bright smile; this boy radiated a kind aura that he felt like he was familiar with.

"It's alright, kid; I was rather distracted too, and wasn't really paying attention to my surroundings." Leona said causing the boy to gasp.

"That's not good! You have to watch where you are going or you shall get hit by a car, or a bus, or a train, or even stabbed by some stranger who is having a bad day or malicious intent! Then, your family shall miss you and people will be sad!" The boy exclaimed while waving his hands around.

"Where did you come up with that?" Leona asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Mommy would say that when I was too distracted! I'm working hard to be more careful so Mommy won't worry too much about me and she will see that I a a big boy!" the boy smiled while placing his fists on his hips in a superhero-like pose, causing the taller lion to chuckle at him.

"Your Mommy sounds like a wise woman. What about your daddy? Is he just as wise as her?" Leona asked.

"Oh, I don't have a Daddy. Just Mommy and she is the only one I really need, but I also have God-Ma, and Auntie, as well as Grandma and Grandpa, so I'm really happy! I don't need a Daddy!" The boy smiled again as his smaller tail waved around behind him. Leona opened his mouth again when a voice called out through the air; sending a ping through his heart.

"Leonis!" A female voice called out.

He watched as the boy, Leonis, turned around and ran to a woman wearing casual clothing; long black hair, lightly sun-kissed skin, and a golden necklace with a locket pendant laced around her neck. Leona looked at this woman as the young boy hugged her legs as she petted him between his ears.

"Mommy!" Leonis called out while looking up at her with shining blue eyes.

"Leonis, I have told you numerous times not to run off like that. What if you got hurt or if someone tried to take you away?" She asked - her voice light and sweet but stern and concerned to her child.

"I would have scratched their eyes out!" Leonis said as he raised his claws to show them to his mother, "I am the Lion Strength of Our Family and Grandpa taught me how to fight! There's no one stronger than him and I'll be able to protect you too, Mommy!" She chuckled and smiled sweetly at the child.

"I know, My Sweet Cub, but Mommy wants to make sure that you remain safe. Now, it's time to meet Grandpa and Grandma for lunch, are you ready to go?" She asked.

"Yes, Mommy!" Leonis turned to look at Leona who was standing there watching the interaction between mother and son before he started waving at the male, "Sorry for bumping into you, Sir! I hope you have a prosperous day!" This caused the mother to look at Leona.

Time seemed to slow down around the Kingscholar Male as his breath was caught in his throat when sapphire locked with emerald.

"Yuu?" His voice came out in a weak whimper as he looked at the face of the woman who stood before him, who looked at him with wide eyes but said nothing.

He watched as Yuu reached down, took Leonis by the hand, and started walking him to their car in the parking lot;. He watched as Yuu placed the cub in the car seat behind the passenger seat of her car before closing the door and walking to the driver's door, opening it and getting inside before closing it. His keen ears picked up on the sound of the engine roaring to life before the car pulled out of the spot, out of the parking lot, and drove down the street until it disappeared completely from sight.

Leona stood there as the world moved around him, his eyes remained wide as the pieces started falling into place of realization and 6 critical points were made obvious to him.

Leona had finally seen Yuu after their break-up seven years ago.

Yuu was now a mother.

Her son was a Lion Beastman while she was a human.

His name was Leonis.

Leonis couldn't be older than 6 considering his size.

Leonis looked just like him when he was that age, only with Yuu's eyes.

Yuu had given birth to his child, to his son, and had been raising him alone. He was a father. Leona Kingscholar was a father.

However, that's when his eyes widened once again when he remembered what Leonis told him during their conversation and it caused his heart to grow cold once again.

I don't need a Daddy!

Leona stood there for a while before he started walking once again - he had a business meeting to get to and after that...he had to make a very important call.

[END]

#twisted wonderland #yandere leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x yuu #leona kingscholar x mc #morden like au #yandere #romantic yandere

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daimyosprincess · 11 days

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WORTH THE RISK

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

—SUMMARY: Pushing your luck has its rewards.

—WORD COUNT: 10.8k

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

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

Please let me know if I missed anything!

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

Read on AO3 — Masterlist — Taglist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

<All yours 😘> 1 image attached

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

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

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

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

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

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

Boba snorts. “Speaking of consequences…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So you’re just a naughty brat then?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No thigh to get off on?”

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

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

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

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

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

Boba curses, his hips bucking into yours.

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

“Princess-”

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, you’re… you’re…”

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

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

“So, apology accepted?”

“One.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Two.”

“Okay, okay! I’m going!”

“Three.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, baby?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shake your head.

“No talking and no hands, understood?”

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

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

Thank the Maker for that towel.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Swallow.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maker, you’re a buzzkill.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Princess, it’s okay, I-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s worth the risk.

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

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seramilla · 2 months

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God that must be so hard and nerve wracking for Carmilla. Finally knowing what happened to the baby she lost and feeling slightly relieved cause now here was her baby safe and here in her arms again where she belonged damnit but they were all in hell and her baby had already lost an eye and had to fight every day...

But also...how are Clara and Odette handling the news that they found their baby sister and just who she is?

Carmilla takes a few days to determine if she wants to inform Odette and Clara about what she'd gleaned following the most recent Extermination. In the first place, her girls had been working overtime extracting all the angelic steel left behind near the Hotel; it's a veritable treasure trove this time, and they'd been so excited to get started. Second, Carmilla needed time to process recent revelations herself, and figure out how to delicately broach the subject with her eldest two.

How is she supposed to tell her daughters that their sister, whose existence they'd barely even registered back on Earth, had quite literally come back from the dead? Not only that, they'd missed an entire childhood together; growing, playing, bonding, fighting, and loving one another -- all things Clara and Odette had the opportunity to do. How is Carmilla supposed to just go up to them and say, "Surprise! You remember that child I was pregnant with when we all died? Well, she's still around! She's an ex-Exterminator, killed hundreds of our people, and I don't even know if she wants anything to do with us!"

Would Odette even accept her? Clara is usually the more open-minded of the two. That's another question she can't answer. With how many times Vaggie's "sister" Exorcists have tried to kill them over the years, would her other daughters even want to have anything to do with Vaggie? She thinks they would...Clara the most likely of the two...but they are fully grown women with their own thoughts and feelings. She wouldn't blame them if they...well, they'd have every right not to want that kind of relationship with Vaggie, at any rate.

Carmilla is still stewing in these thoughts, having practically worn a path in the middle of her bedroom floor by walking back and forth so many times, when she feels a vibration in her pocket. Pulling out her phone, Vaggie's name flashes prominently on the screen, like a fresh piece of graffiti on the side of a building. She almost drops her phone in surprise, but manages to keep it together. She taps the answer icon in trepidation.

"Ye-yes?"

"Carmilla?" Vaggie's voice on the other end sounds so...tired. Carmilla recalls she's been home for a few days now, but she wouldn't have been able to tell by the sound of her voice alone. Her tone is so...ragged and laced with anxiety; a spitting image of her own, if she's honest.

"Vaggie! Umm, yes! How can I help you?"

There is a definitive pause, one that makes the distance between them seem more metaphysical than real. They are just across the city from each other, but in every other sense, Vaggie is undoubtedly existing in her own plane of reality right now. She seems so much farther away than Carmilla could possibly reach by foot. It must have taken her a lot to call Carmilla. The arms dealer puts her patience to the test, and waits intently for Vaggie to find the words to voice what she needs to say.

"Carmilla..." Vaggie finally starts, a voice much shakier and insecure than she remembers; a far cry from that determined, brave girl that challenged her at her compound all those days ago. "Can I...come over?"

Carmilla's heart jumps into her throat. Her ears start ringing, and she almost needs to sit down on her bed before she collapses.

"Yes!" she says, flinching as she sounds a little too eager for her own ears. There's no helping that now. "Of-of course! Whatever you need, mi querida. My door is always open. When do you want to come by?"

"Ummm," Vaggie hesitates, as if she fears she's asking too much. "Is right now okay? Are you...busy?"

Odette and Clara will be back soon, but that is the furthest thing from Carmilla's mind at the moment. She'll deal with it when the time comes.

"No, that's perfectly fine! Absolutely, I'll be here! I'm not going anywhere today."

Vaggie sounds a little relieved, but also like she hadn't expected her question to be answered so quickly, so freely. Carmilla hopes she doesn't sound too eager...but she is. How can she not be? This is her daughter, for goodness’ sake, her child, wanting to see her.

"O-oh-okay!" Vaggie says, a little more eager this time. "Gi-give me an hour? And I'll...I'll be there."

"Text me once you're close by," Carmilla says, trying to push away any further doubts and hesitation from her mind. Vaggie wants to come over. She needs to be strong for her. She needs to keep it the fuck together. "I'll come out and get you this time."

"Okay," Vaggie responds. "Thanks...thank you, Carmilla."

Vaggie hangs up. Carmilla stiffens. She stands up, putting her large hands over her face, wiping her forehead down to her cheeks from the stress of it all. Vaggie is coming back, coming here, right now. She tries so much not to freak the fuck out.

Now to figure out what to do about Odette and Clara.

#hazbin hotel #carmilla carmine #vaggie #vaggie hazbin hotel #odette hazbin hotel #clara hazbin hotel #fan theories #ask #anon #vaggie carmilla related au

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blue-slxt · 1 year

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Flattery

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

A/N: This is my first new piece on my new blog. I've had this little drabble idea sitting in my notes for weeks and the motivation finally hit me to get it out. I like the idea of Lo'ak with a praise kink. It just feels right. Sorry it's so short, but I really just kinda wanted this to be a super focused scene. I'll add more to the story later if people want it. All characters are aged up.

Pairing: Lo'ak x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Face Riding, Oral (F receiving), Praise Kink, I think that's it

Word Count: 500+

Summary: Lo'ak loves to be praised and you love giving it to him.

One thing you learned about Lo’ak before you even started officially dating? He lives for praise. From the moment the word “sayrìp” rolled off your tongue in his direction, he was hooked. It didn’t take long for you to notice how he would light up with every word of flattery you offered him. And it was understandable. He had spent so much of his life chasing approval, so having you shower him with compliments stroked his ego and made his heart race. And you were more than happy to do it for him. It’s not like your words were hollow, you truly meant everything you ever said. Lo’ak is very handsome, he’s strong, and brave, even if he sometimes bordered on being reckless. And best of all, he aimed to please.

Watching him right now underneath you was a gorgeous sight. Face between your thighs and strong hands gripping your ass while your hips rock against his tongue. Loud, shameless moans fall from your lips and spur him on even more knowing he was making you feel good.

Your hand reaches down and strokes the top of his head while you look in his eyes, “Ah, fuck, I love you so much, baby. You doing such a good job for me.”

The lovestruck expression of his eyes juxtaposed with the obscene slurping sounds from his mouth is enough to make your head spin. He groans into your heat and the vibrations shoot straight up your spine making all the hair on your body feel like it’s standing on end.

“Mmf…right there. Haah…you feel so good, Lo’ak!” Your head falls back letting your body submit to your inevitable high that’s rushing to you.

“You love me, baby?” you ask finally bringing your face back up so you can look at him.

‘Mhm’ is all he can muffle out.

“Shit, just like that….you gonna let me cum in your mouth?” you can barely get your words out between your heavy panting.

“mhmm” you knew he couldn’t really answer you properly, but you just wanted to feel the vibrations of his humming against you to help you get to your release. Your hands catch in his braids and your body continues to move on its own literally riding out your orgasm on top of him. Lo’ak’s fingers dig into the soft skin of your ass while he indulges himself in your arousal flowing into his mouth. Every drag of your clit against his tongue seems to prolong your high until coherent thoughts are no longer possible.

Your hips finally lull to a stop, but that does nothing to stop Lo’ak from continuing to feast on you like he hasn’t eaten in days. Finally, you have to pull yourself off of him when the stimulation becomes too much. His lips release your clit with a loud ‘pop’ and he looks up at you with lidded eyes and heavy breaths. Your hand cups his cheek that was still sticky with your juices.

“You are so gorgeous covered in my cum.”

Your body shivers when you catch sight of his fangs in his grin. Your fingers trail down his body to grip his dick. He was already so hard and covered in streams of precum while you give him a few solid strokes.

“Mmm, you always do so good, baby.” Your voice is low getting close by his ear. Gentle kisses and nips along his jawline make his hips jerk up into your hand. “Let me show you how much I appreciate you.”

Taglist: @soleilmoon @netemoon @fifia-writes @strangersav11

@eywascall @neteyamsluvts @heart-an0n @iman-lu @xylianasblog @theunfortunateplace @hyejusdiary @savvysscandles @randxmthxughts @tiredmamaissy @yeosxxx @sullymenrhot @atwow69 @bellstwd @iseeyouuu @afro-hispwriter @simp4ff @universal-s1ut @lokokokkok @parisdailysposts @mynameisjuno @andraga12 @tallulah477 @uaze123 @nelissecrectplace @ayoushs-stuff @angrypomeranianwifey @perfectxserendipity @yumimak @rainbowturdz @rhiannonhippiegirl

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#avatar #avatar the way of water #awow #avatar smut #avatar fic #lo'ak #loak #loak x reader #loak smut #loak sully #atwow loak #loak fic #avatar loak #loak fanfiction #avatar twow #atwow #awow smut

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hoeforhao · 11 months

Text

Dolled Up In Cherry Haze || C.S.C Oneshot ||

🍒 pairing: bestfriend!seungcheol × fem!reader

🍒 warnings: smut with absolutely zero plot, minors dni, teasing in a public area, slight breast play, seungcheol is a meany tease here, tell me if i missed anything

🍒 word count: 0.9k

🍒 author's note: am finally back with a smut after ages with my hormones literally jumping out of the roof rn♡

🍓 Masterlist 🍓

IF YOU LIKE MY WORKS, THEN PLEASE REBLOG OR LIKE OR INTERACT IN ANY MANNER! IT REALLY HELPS US WRITERS 🍓

"Can you twirl around a bit for me,doll?" seungcheol pesters; his face plastered with the evilest smirk as he takes in the breathtaking view of his half naked best friend.

"Don't you wanna show your bestie how the red embraces each and every corner of your body! Hmm?" another nasty chuckle leaves his lips as he takes forward his pleasure torture with "so that he can help you be all dolled up to fuck your crush tonight...or..."

You had absolutely no idea 'bout how you ended up in this situation ; being half naked in the trial room, with only a lacey cherry red lingerie barely covering your cherished areas while your bestfriend seungcheol keeps his eyes fixed onto you, leaning onto the mirror of the room all this while.

All you remember was asking cheol to accompany you to your favorite lingerie store while you picked up the steamiest one to put on later at night - for your date with the guy you've been gushing about 24/7 to him.

"Don't make me repeat myself princess or who knows in how many shreds these pieces of sheer lace will end up...on the floor" cheol's voice sounds stern, trying to mask up the hormones rushing through his crotch at your sight.

"B-but you're my b-bestfriend cherry, it's embarrassing for me" what you actually wanted to say was that it was embarrassing for you to stain the brand new panties even before you've paid for them...even before being able to wear them for the actual purpose!!! Instead you were here on the verge of dripping like a fall onto the mall floor. Reason? Seungcheol's eyes glaring on your half bare body.

"Let me make it easy for you then. What would be more embarrassing - twirling around for me like a good lil princess or screaming my name out loud in the midst of a shopping centre, as I tear of every single thread of this lingerie from your skin, with my TEETH?!"

This man will now surely be the death of you. You close you eyes shut as you slowly twirl around, giving the best erotic show to seungcheol....'til your movement gets hauled by a sudden pair of hands.

"Aren't you such a dirty little slut, getting up all dressed in such scandalous pieces, hardly covering your perked up nipples and dripping cunt" by the time cheol was halfway through his sentence, your eyes were shut tight...from embarrassment? No! From the electrifying waves of pleasure traveling down from the tip of your mounds to the void of your womb; caused by none other than seungcheol's wet lips on your exposed neck.

"That too infront of your bestfriend? Such a desperate whore for being touched aren't you!!" cheol's lips vibrate against your neck as his hands gradually move to cup your breasts into his palms. "But i kinda feel bad for that little nerdy date of your tonight tho."

"W-why so?" you can't even form full words without stuttering like a two year old. What has seungcheol's touch even done to your needy body.

"This is why, my love" these are quite literally the last words that leave his mouth as well as the last ones that get to your head, as seungcheol grips your waist tight and in a swirl of a second turns you towards the mirror, while he's standing pressed up to your back.

"Open your eyes dove and witness the art I'm about to chalk out onto your skin." Not even a second of such a leg shaking remark from seungcheol and he's already biting down onto your neck like a wolf who was waiting for ages to devour the flesh of his mate.

"Do you think that silly crush of yours would even stay at the date after seeing how someone has already marked you, hmm?" a ripple of pleasurable pain runs down your back as cheol whispers these exact words into your skin, teeth still beastly grazing against your entire shoulder.

"F-fuck cheol am completely drenched.. p-pls help me" shocked at your own choice of words, you desperately beg for a climax.

"Not so fast princess. Needy whores need some extra care." the last of seungcheol's kisses paints your body as he withdraws his lips from you.

"Put on your clothes quick and come out. I'll be at the counter" he places one last kiss on your boobs while parting aside the curtain to leave the room. "Oh and don't even think about removing that set. I don't think you would want the entire shop to know how wet you're for your bestfriend"

"What have you done to me Choi Seungcheol. Got me all dizzy and heated up just to leave my core throbbing so bad for your touch huh!" these are the only thoughts that kept circling your palldium as you zipped up your dress and made your way out, body now intoxicated by his cherry haze.

"Let's go darling!! Can't wait to get home baby, right?" a strong pair of bulked up sweaty arms wrap around your waist, with three large shopping bags in his hand.

"DID YOU BUY THE ENTIRE STORE OR WOTT CHOI SEUNGCHEOL??"

"Nah love. Just every existing pair of that red lace embracing your sweet soft skin under the innocent flower dress of yours....one for every night" a wink from cheol is what it takes for your insides to start betraying you; AGAIN!

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answer2jeff · 10 months

Text

NARROW THOUGHTS : TRAILER.

CARMEN x READER PREVIEW!!!

Warnings: FLUFF, Clingy!Carmen × Reliable!Reader, NOT quite an established relationship, soooo much fluffy fluff. romance with a bit of plot, ZERO use of yln, reader is implied female but little to no use of specific pronouns, mention of the nickname "Pico," short for "Piccola" ; small (young) in italian

official fic here: part one.

this is just a trailer, actual fic is still a work in progress!! feedback of any kind is greatly appreciated :)

wc: 672, English is not my first language, expect mistakes.

You were cold, your jacket soaking wet from the Chicago rain as you made your way onto the L. Your mouth felt dry, your stomach dropping to your feet when you realized you hadn't checked on Carmen all day — and hardy at all that entire week. You figured you didn't have to stress over your absence too much, but a text wouldn't hurt.

You pulled your phone out of your pocket, your eyes glancing over it as you tried to find Carmy's contact through the static in your brain.

Hey. 11:34pm

Haven't seen you in a bit. Did you get home okay? 11:35pm

Your fingers frantically danced around the keyboard, your leg bouncing as you waited for a response. You needed something to calm your nerves. That feeling in your empty belly told you something wasn't right; you must've missed something. 'Fomo,' you called it.

Meanwhile, Carmen was taking his first steps into his apartment for that night, the cold air conditioning doing nothing to provide any comfort from the Chicago cold. He felt his phone vibrate once against his pocket, not thinking to check who it might've been as he tossed his baseball cap onto the couch; until it vibrated a second time.

He fished his phone out from the depths of his pocket, the blue-light shining against his face; your contact name, 'Pico' showing up twice. He removed his wool jacket, letting it fall onto the couch before setting his phone down and peeling off his tight-fitting, white t-shirt and taking a seat on the couch. Carmen held his phone between his hands, his leg bouncing as he thought of what could've justified you texting him after being out of touch with one another, practically all week. But he opened the text.

Just got home. You still on the L? 11:45pm.

He put a hand over his mouth, grazing his thumb over his cheek as he thought of the distance you two experienced. You hadn't visited The Beef all week, you hadn't asked him or Richie for help moving the furniture into the vintage thrift shop that you planned on opening in just 4 weeks.

You licked your lips as you stepped into your apartment, the warm glow from your kitchen making you feel comfortable... and it was empty. Too empty, now that you could afford your place and didn't split rent with your co-worker, Ashley, anymore. You were used to having Carmen here every once and a while, discussing business plans, leaving a jacket or two, but this week was lonely.

You and Carmen knew each other once: two aspiring hotshots in New York City, working alongside each other at the best restaurant on the planet, but this was now. You liked the simplicity of your soon to be vintage coffee shop. Just a little over a year ago, you'd come home with dry, calloused fingers and bits of onion under your finger nails that would burn your eyes later. You couldn't take it anymore. Not after what the head chef put you and Carmen through for the very last time. You left, never considering that Carmen would've returned for any particular reason; but there he was, in Chicago, just 15 minutes away from you by car, fixing up 'mom and dads piece of shit' that his late brother passed onto him.

And something deep in your stomach urged you to see him.

Just tonight. It won't be weird, right? Just two adults trying to catch up on each others lives, like good people, with the little bit of free time they both had.

You felt like you practically owed him a chunk of your leisure. It was the least you could do.

Literally just got off lol. 11:52pm

Can you come over? Just wanna catch up. 11:56pm

You replied, your nails against your teeth as you stared at your phone, waiting impatiently for a response. You stood in your living room, with one of Richie's 'original beef' t-shirts and grey sweatpants, the TV on with no sound emitting from it, and just a little bit of desire in your body: making the tips of your fingers tingle.

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oldmanffucker · 6 days

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Never before have I been a historical fiction or period piece guy but I swear to god “the moment isn’t right” genuinely has my heart fluttering. I’m wailing and gnashing my teeth and weeping. It’s so phenomenally spectacularly beautifully written like truly genuine novel worthy. Every time a new chapter is posted I drop everything to read it. The prose literally makes every cell in my body kinetic. I feel like I’m vibrating with the visceral joy of this story.

#heart racing from reading it routinely #gonna have to ask the author but oh man. I am a bookbinder and never before have I bound a fanfic but this. this might be the one. not migh #if they say yes it IS the one.#wow #the moment isn’t right #hilson #house #text post #house md #gregory house #my post #james wilson #wilson

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f10werfae · 2 years

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My Little Peach

Pairing: Chris Evans x Short!Reader

summary: Chris Evans bringing his short sized girlfriend! Reader to the park for their date. They are having lots of fun and Chris is in the "mood". Pantie vibrator, ass touching, pussy clenching and naughty whispers (requested by anon) (smut)

Disclaimer: This story is fiction and should not be taken literally, the behaviour is simply imaginative and the content may be inappropriate

Requests are open/ Chris Evans Masterlist, full masterlist, taglist form💌

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Baby dont’cha look all pretty” Chris cooed standing by the door frame of their bedroom, his eyes stuck on his girlfriends behind, which was dressed in the prettiest red lace to offer. “I love it bub, thank you so much” She smiled skipping over, practically naked in only the red underwear, pressing what she thought was an innocent enough, sloppy wet kiss onto her man’s lips.

“Hmm is it comfortable for your pussy?” He asked sneaking his fingers around the thin waistband to tug her closer, her breath hitching when she felt the fabric press up against her sensitive clit. “Chris! Stop being so vulgar” She gasped smacking his chest lightly, walking back over to the bed to pull on her leggings and burnt orange jumper, which was actually Chris’

“M'sorry honey, ya know I jus can’t resist you, jus so gorgeous” He chuckled keeping his bottom lip held by his teeth, holding out his hand for her to hold, and when she did oh did he feel a burst of dominance. His little peach was what she went by to him, that was even her name on his phone till this day. All sweet and juicy just for him, despite not being as tall as the other girls around her, Y/n was definitely a bubbly fierce one.

“C’mon peach, let’s get this forest trail done before it gets dark” He breathed out as they both slipped on their walking shoes, and started their journey down the street. With his hand softly rubbing over her knuckles, he couldn’t help but smile at the way she hummed at every step, nothing could ever ruin her mood. A lovely ball of fire.

“I’m so gonna take a well needed bubble bath when I get home, might even slip in a muscle soak” Y/n spoke out, turning her head towards her boyfriend, his eyes already on her and his lips may as well have been permanently etched into a smile. “Is there not a ‘we’ in that sentence my love? Can your big ‘ol man not join you?”

“I-I mean of course you can, I jus didn’t know whether you’d want to, with your game being on and stuff” Y/n stuttered out, her face starting to feel that tiny bit warmer. “Ya kiddin? Why would I miss out on some one on one time with this piece of ass?” Chris growled, letting go of her hand for a mere second to deliver a loud smack onto her ass

“Chris, behave! What if someone sees us-“

Walking onto the deserted forest trail, Chris smirked as he pressed the red button on the tiny remote hidden in his sweatpants pocket. Feeling his cock start to twitch when he felt his girl’s smaller hand clutch onto his tighter, her legs clenched tightly together almost making her look like bambi on ice.

“C-Chris what’s going on, w-why -oh fuck- why are my panties vibrating” Her free hand went to cover her crotch, her head turning to check if anyone had come onto the trail as well, which was stupid Chris thought. No one came onto this trail anymore, not with the new one being set up a few miles away.

“Oh baby maybe it’s just your imagination, here lemme check for you” Chris took his larger hand, swatting away hers and cupped her throbbing pussy in his hand. Y/n’s hands had now gripped onto Chris' biceps,

“I dunno peach, it seems to feel alright down here, why don’t you tell your man what’s wrong?” He taunted mockingly, watching Y/n’s eyes shimmer with built up tears due to the continuous vibrations abusing her cunt.

“I-it tingles Chrissy, fuck me, fuck I need to take these off” She grunted losing all sense of formality, stumbling to hide behind a massive tree and clawing to take off her leggings.

“Nuh-uh baby, we haven’t even gotten halfway through the trail yet? C’mon you can make it halfway for me can’t you?” Holding her hands away from her crotch firmly, he started tugging her poor self along the trail, watching her having to stop every few seconds as her clit brushed against the vibrations directly.

“C-Chris I really can’t, oh no, I-m gonna c-cum, oh shit oh fuck-“ Within seconds Chris had to hold her up fully, her hips grinding into the air erotically as she rode out her high as best as she could. “Baby you’re so fuckin naughty, be honest, did you soak the new panties I got ya?”

“M’s-sorry I couldn’t hold it” She whimpered looking down to see the massive wet spot on her purple leggings. Hunkering down on his legs, Chris brought his nose directly to her clothed pussy and inhaled deeply,

“Did my little peach make herself cum? Look she’s soaking wet honey. Smells amazing babe” Chris taunted probing her now very prominent pussy lips with his index finger, Y/n’s hands holding onto his shoulder for as much support as possible.

Bringing her up against a tree, Chris pulled down her leggings to her ankles, the vibrating panties moving as if it had a life of its own, before Chris pulled that down too.

“Aww babe, look at her coming out to play today, musta missed me too huh?” Placing a kiss onto her swollen clit, Chris licked a stripe up her slippery slit, remnants of her cum decorating her skin.

“Please baby, I need it so bad” Y/n moaned throwing her head back against the tree, feeling Chris practically make out with her pussy, his tongue darting in and out, all over her cunt. Before settling his lips on her clit and sucking on it crazily, a hum coming from his body imitated the vibrations of the panties he had strategically gifted her.

“Fuck you eat my pussy so good baby, need you to fuck me so bad”

“What if someone sees us Y/n, what then?”

“I don’t care, let them watch” She grunted starting to grind her pussy against Chris' face, one of her legs now thrown over his shoulder as she humped him. The gruff from his beard now itching her tingling pussy in the best way possible. “Chris i’m gonna cum all over your fucking face baby, gonna make you all wet, n’ I want you to look at me while I do it”

Y/n moaned out, holding onto the sides of Chris’ face as his big dark blue orbs made contact with her half lidded eyes, his eyes clutching closed when he felt her hole clench around his tongue, his tastebuds being coated by her sweetness.

“You’re so dirty baby, bet you’d want someone to watch me fuck your tight little pussy wouldn’t ya?” He groaned standing up right to smash his lips onto hers, his hands cupping her face tightly, as he felt her lick her own cum off his face; then her tongue ventured in to meet his. Sucking on his tongue passionately, letting her saliva slowly drip into his mouth filthily, God was he in love with her.

“Spit in my fuckin’ mouth” Chris groaned with his tongue sat out, watching as she smirked before doing as he said. Her eyes watching on as he pulled up her jumper over her head rapidly before spitting onto her tits. Her hardened nipples wet with a mix of their spit, his tongue going down to toy with her nipples.

“Come on baby, let him out to play” Y/n moaned reaching her hand down Chris’ sweatpants to fist his hardened thick cock, swiping her finger over the tip to wipe the precum all over it. Lifting her hand out to suck the liquid accumulated onto her thumb.

“You’re gonna get it baby” Chris pulled down his sweatpants to his ankles, his hands going onto Y/n’s waist before lifting her up to straddle his hips, his tip poking at her swollen cunt. Y/n reached her hand down and guided his cock into her soft wet cavern, wrapping her arms around his neck and shoulders as he basically hugged her to his chest.

Bouncing slowly up and down on his feet Chris watched his woman’s face turn into one of pure ecstasy, her mouth wide open with her eyes threatening to shut.

“You make me so wet Chris oh my- Yes hit that fucking spot, I love you so much” She cried out, trying to make herself bounce even faster if that was even possible.

“Fuck look at your titties peach, bouncing up and down for me, c’mon ma feed me, feed your daddy”

Chris moaned feeling his balls slap against her ass for the hundredth time that minute, waiting as she hoisted herself up that much higher to guide her left breast into his mouth. Listening as he slobbered and moaned all over it like some sort of wild animal.

“I’m gonna drain your balls baby, leave nothin, keepin it all for my sweet pussy” She smirked levelling back down for her lips to meet his cheek and lips,

“All yours baby, all yours n ‘ no one else’s ya hear me? Gonna fuck you stupid and keep you all to myself too”

“No complaints here bubby” Y/n whimpered feeling that same knot start to build up at the pit of her stomach, alongside Chris’ thrusts starting to get more irregular and deeper, meaning he was also close.

“I love you so so much Y/n, you don’t understand, fuck you were made for me n my cock” He groaned kissing up her neck and chin,

“Kiss me while you make you cum in my pussy, make me yours. All yours”

For the first time during this session, Chris and Y/n kissed each other softly, his lips gently tugging on hers with need. Her whimpers being swallowed by him and vice versa, his grip on her ass not letting off as his fingers gently probed at her tight ass just to tease her that bit more.

With his tongue tangling with hers passionately, Y/n couldn’t help but feel extremely vulnerable and emotional, this was them purely making love out in nature. Sure it was a bit weird in terms of setting, but she was with the man she loved, exploring each other’s bodies as if they haven’t already memorised them.

“I’m gonna cum inside you baby, that okay?” Chris asked detaching his lips from hers for a few seconds, before her lips captured his once again as she let out a “mhm” nodding her head frantically.

“Thank you baby” He whispered against her lips as he kissed her again and again as he emptied his balls into her, feeling her thighs relax in his hold as her pussy twitched and throbbed from its simultaneous release. Their hips slowly rocking together romantically as Y/n kissed all over his face and brushed his hair back away from his face, to see him in all his glory.

Chris on the other hand, felt himself blush looking at his precious girlfriend, his peach. Her face shimmered with sweat but that only made her that more beautiful, he even had to fight his thoughts just so he wouldn’t get hard again while still inside her warm pussy.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Ya happy honey?” Chris asked leaning back against the tub, watching his girl adjust the temperature to the way she wanted.

“Are you kidding? I got the shit fucked outta me and I got my bubble bath, i’m living the dream baby” Y/n leaned back onto his chest, letting his arms encircle her waist as he softly massaged her hips, a major hot fuck session was not necessarily easy.

“Now are you happy, Mr Evans?” Y/n asked turning her body halfway around to look at him, his eyes trailing over her face become pecking her softly,

“Oh you don’t even know baby, you don’t even know”

———

Taglist tags (Form is up there^^): @patzammit @pandaxnienke @ninasw0rld @emvebee @mischiefsemimanaged @feltonswifesworld87 @bookfrog242 @alina02 @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @evanstanwhore @cevansgurl @marvelgurl @chrisevansdaughter @chrisevansangel @royalwriteroftheuniverse @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @taramaria @mirikusashes @mysticfalls01 @kimhtoo17 @itsaylayay1213 @uwiuwi @stormcloudss @bxdbxtxh15 @madebylilly @mdpplgtz03 @vrittivsanghavi @dumb-fawkin-bitch @thereisa8ella @bval-1 @diyabhanushali1 @angelmather1 @annajustwrites @lastwandastan @ravenhood2792 @fdl305 @bluebellsn @alexxavicry @roofwitty779 @aerangi @s-void @oliviah-25 @nikkitc0703 @meetmeatyourworst @girl-of-multi-fandoms @imboredat2am @mansaaay @adoreyouusugar @caps-shield1918 @xoxokiaraaxoxo @tinyelfperson @mrspeacem1nusone @tojisbabymomma

#romance #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans one shot

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mediocre-daydreams · 2 years

Note

can i please req peter parker x mutant!reader and reader is hypersensitive to sounds because of their ability to control vibrations and maybe? gets super jumpy every time an automatic humidifier pumps and all the avengers keep on catching r climbing peter because of it? 🫶🏻🫶🏻 LOVE YOUR WORK

hello sunshiiiine! i loved this request and it hit super close to home, so a lot of reader's experiences and symptoms are based on mine/my friends. (i missed the part about the controlling vibrations though, but i hope it still fits how you imagined it!) i'm so flattered you like my work 🥰 it means the world

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞

peter parker x enhanced! reader (gender neutral)

warnings: swearing, mentions of drug use (jokingly), overstim/panic attack, scenes from the conjuring 1 (not really spoilers just horror movie stuff), crackfic elements as always because it's me

w/c: 2.6k

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

you winced, as did many of the other avengers. you watched as carolyn’s skin turned ghastly gray and her eyes become a sickly yellow as she became possessed by a demon. you threw a couple more pieces of popcorn into your mouth.

since joining the avengers, movie nights had become one of your favorite group activities. because of your age and how new you were, it was hard to feel like a part of the team. peter was one of your only solaces.

“don’t eat all of it!” he hissed, knocking his elbow into yours. you rolled your eyes and threw a piece at his face. it left a grease mark on his cheek. you leaned in to clean it with your mouth.

“you neanderthal,” he whispered, laughing under his breath. he dug his hands in the bowl and grabbed a greedy fist of popcorn. you turned your head to face the screen, shifting under the blanket you were sharing with peter so you could loop your foot around peter’s legs. you often found yourself seeking out peter’s touches; it was comforting to have a physical presence there when you found yourself overstimulated. the tower was always busy, but peter was your constant.

peter was no stranger to overstimulation himself (and no, not in that way; get your head out of the gutter). his heightened spider senses and his adhd had been an inconvenient combo at first, but with help from bruce and tony, he was able to get his senses under control. your senses were much strong than his, to the point where overstimulation could be debilitating. it was all foreign ground to bruce and tony, so as they continued to work on a solution, peter had made it his personal mission to help you adjust and walking you through methods that had helped him.

you were too hyperfixated on watching carolyn tear her own hair out to notice the sappy look on peter’s face as he revered how the artificial light from the tv illuminated half your face. his eyes traveled from your eyelashes and the thin coat of mascara that you’d taught him how to apply for you, to the slope of your nose and the little bump you insisted was unseemly but that he found adorable, to your lips, slightly parted as you were entranced by the horror unfolding on the screen.

wanda, who was comfortably cozied up to vision on peter’s other side, snorted in amusement accompanied by that small nose scrunch of hers. she tapped peter’s shoulder furiously and with more force than necessary to catch his attention. he turned to look at her cautiously as to not move too much and disturb you.

wanda waggled her eyebrows deviously and vision hid his own smug smile. (curse that literal power couple for their perceptiveness.) wanda mouthed something that peter could barely pick up in the dark room. frustratedly, wanda leaned in closer and whispered, “take their hand, you idiot.” vision nodded in agreement, tilting his head towards you and then shaking his head at peter, disappointed. peter couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw vision mouth the word “coward.”

wanda slapped peter’s wrist playfully before cuddling into vision’s chest once more, like nothing had just happened.

peter was pretty sure you could pick up on his heartrate increasing. when you turned to look at him with a concerned look, he took it back. peter was positive you could hear the way his heart was pounding. he only hoped you couldn’t feel the heat rising to his cheeks as well.

“peter?” you whispered, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek sweetly. well, shit. there went his second wish. “oh, you’re all warm! is it the movie? do you not like horror movies?”

peter smiled in what looked more like a grimace. “no! i love horror movies, actually! yeah, they’re super great,” he lied, knowing how much you enjoyed them and hoping he could use that as an excuse to watch more movies with you. “i’m just- uh, a little warm. from the blanket.”

reluctantly, peter removed himself from under the blanket and pushed it to you. your face fell, or at least peter thought so, because a moment later, that sweet smile of yours returned. it didn’t do much to help his heart from spasming.

“o-okay! sorry if i made you uncomfortable,” you stammered, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself. any contact you’d been making with peter had been broken and peter found himself longing for your touch.

“no, it’s not you, it’s actually-”

“can you guys shut up?” rhodey complained from his pillow throne on the ground. “this is the best part.”

the two of you settled, looking anywhere but each others’ eyes. you slumped into the couch cushions grumpily and faced the screen once more. honestly, peter couldn’t care about ‘the best part.’ he hadn’t really been watching anyways, content with simply basking in your presence. it was the only time he could really admire you without seeming creepy. not that he was creepy at other times or anything.

the screen flashed white and the team jumped, including you. there was screaming and chaos and amidst it all, you’d flinched so hard that you’d frozen into place, eyes wide and glossy, hands clutching your blanket with a vice-like grip that left you trembling. peter could immediately recognize what it was.

you were having an attack of sorts, brought on by the harsh cinematography and the chorus of yelps and screams from the other avengers. now the popcorn bowl in your hands weighed pounds, the blanket on your skin had grown prickles, and the air around you was sending jolts down your spine. you tensed, shoulders coming up to your ears as you rubbed the back of your neck to fight the invisible tickle that was taunting you.

peter whispered your name a couple times, gradually increasing in volume until you were able to fully respond. when he caught sight of you, his face fell at the despondance in your eyes and the sudden quivers of your body. he glanced down at his watch, eyebrows furrowing as he caught the time.

11:30PM, which is when the automatic air purifier turned on for the night. it was a bit loud, which was why it worked at night, but now you were awake and already stressed. he hesitated for a second, hands lingering in the air so could choose whether or not you wanted to be touched, and you leaned into his open arms immediately. he pulled you close and you buried your nose into the fabric of his shirt, taking deep inhales of his detergent and the new york wind that he always smelled like from swinging around.

he rubbed your back, putting pressure on your tense muscles to ground you. you sniffed, squeezing your eyes shut to try and block out at least one sensory stimuli. peter frowned as he felt you continue to shudder sporadically in his arms. he glanced around the room. thankfully, nobody was paying attention to you two. he didn’t think you could handle people crowding you and trying to talk to you right now, even if it was well-intentioned.

“d’you wanna leave?” he muttered near your ear. he felt you shake your head. “no? that’s okay. we can stay here, if that’s what you need. do you want me to hold you or do you not want anything to be touching you?”

peter felt you melt into his touch, like putty. “jus’ want you,” you mumbled, and peter blushed a million shades darker. you said nothing except threaded your fingers through peter’s and squeezing them, hard. he realized that the pressure was grounding you.

“c’mon, get comfy. i’ll stay with you until the movie’s over, okay? just tell me if there’s anything else i can do to make you feel better,” peter mumbled into your hair as you pushed yourself tightly against peter’s body. he’d been having bad luck controlling his physical reactions to you but prayed more than anything that there’d be no action down there. not the time, peter.

“thank you,” you hummed into his neck. this time, it was he who shivered at the hot air you breathed against his bare skin. “you’re warm. please, just… i need you.” you went silent for a moment before peter felt your lips move against his skin again. “you’re everything to me, peter. i lo- thank you.”

peter’s eyes softened and he pursed his lips to stop himself from beaming. you two had always been touchy and affectionate, but never so emotionally vulnerable. all he wanted to do was pick you up and spin you and then kiss you with all the pining he’d been storing from the past few months, but you didn’t need that right now. you just needed him, peter. his presence. so instead, he brought his hands up to stroke your hair and pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

“i love you too.”

you awoke the sound of poorly suppressed giggling, blinking the harsh sunlight from your groggy eyes. nudging peter, who grumbled and only dug his head closer to your chest, you glanced around to find the culprit of the noise. it was sam and bucky, the former holding his phone in front of his face and very obviously videotaping the two of you, while the latter had pulled out a polaroid camera (bucky hadn’t yet figured out how to use a smartphone) and was just now clicking it to capture the two of you in a bright flash.

peter jolted awake at the sound of bucky’s camera. “what the f-”

“language!” steve shouted from the kitchen, always on his game even at seven in the morning. he appeared by the duo’s side with a protein shake in hand and a judgementally, but amused quirked eyebrow directed at the two of you.

“why are you guys even awake?” you groaned, pushing peter off of you. somehow, you’d ended up falling asleep on the couch with peter’s head and torso on top of yours, and your legs draped over his.

“went on a run,” bucky shrugged. “came back to this.”

peter rubbed his eyes, sitting up. “what even- when did we finish the movie?” his morning voice was raspy and endearing and you cursed yourself for the fluttering in your stomach

“we finished the movie, like,” sam checked his phone, “eight hours ago. you guys passed out right before ed and lorraine did their whole ‘we saved the family, hip hip hooray’ thing. there was too much snoring and popcorn grease going on for any of us to bother waking you up.”

“i do not snore,” you insisted, uselessly trying to fix your bedhead.

“i beg to differ,” natasha chimed in, hopping the kitchen counter nonchalantly to sit on a stool with a coffee in hand, not spilling a single drop. “i’m a light sleeper. i could hear you from my room.” you sighed in embarrassment and peter took your hand, rubbing circles into the back of your palm reassuringly. “i knew stark didn’t soundproof my room,” natasha cursed under her breath. “that conniving bitch.”

bucky shook his polaroid a couple times before frisbee-ing it at the two of you. peter snatched it from the air, turning the picture so you could see it too. you had to admit, it was a nice picture.

“so are you guys, like, together now?” tony strolled in, his silk sleep mask pushed on top of his head like like a headband. how unfortunate it was that the avengers were early risers.

“dude, they’ve been together for like, weeks,” sam rolled his eyes, shifting his weight to one foot sassily. “get with the program.”

“we’re not-”

“are you fucking with me, sam?” natasha looked genuinely shocked, on the verge of offended. “they’ve been dating for months now.” when sam didn’t say anything, natasha threw her hands in the air. “these are the mightiest protectors of earth? god, we’re all doomed.”

“uh, actually-”

“wait, seriously?” tony squealed, clapping his hands together gleefully. “oh my god, this is so cute. i think they’re my new OTP. don’t let wanda and vision hear me say that. wait, what’s their ship name going to be? i ordered customized mugs for wanda and vision’s three week anniversary and it would be unfair for me to not-”

“we’re not together!” you exclaimed, a little louder than you’d intended to. all heads turned to you, even peter’s, as you looked at each avenger in bewilderment. “peter and i are friends. what are you guys smoking? did thor bring asgardian weed or something?” your face quickly fell. “oh shit, were they in the brownies? dude, i had like, three.”

“i don’t think they’re high,” peter whispered to you, gaze flickering to each avenger that now were very confused and slightly perturbed. natasha slowly spun around and returned to drinking her coffee silently. bucky and sam looked at each other.

“well, that’s awkward. FRIDAY, cancel order.” tony pulled the sleeping mask off his head and spun it around on his finger to avoid the thickness in the air. “right. i’m gonna go back to bed.”

peter placed his hand on your jaw to turn your head back to meet his eyes. he was frowning.

“do you- do you remember anything from last night?” he said sadly.

“i-” you wanted to protest. you wanted to lie and say no. but you could never lie to peter. not just because of how he’d helped you last night, but because he was peter. “yeah, i remember what happened.”

“do you remember, uh, what i said? before we fell asleep, i guess?” peter’s eyes dropped to his lap, and you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“yeah. i do. you said you loved me… too. which means you already knew i loved you, huh?” you spoke shyly, looking up at peter through your eyelashes. “love. present tense. ‘cause i… love you. is that okay?”

peter placed his hand on top of yours, the one that was still on his shoulder. he coaxed it off his body and into the grasp of his palm. pulling it to his mouth, he brushed his lips to your knuckles before letting it hover between your chests. “yeah. it’s okay. it’s more than okay, actually. it’s really good. it’s great.”

“it’s super great. i’m glad. i love you,” you giggled, euphoric at the absurdity of the confession. “i had the worst night yesterday,” you breathed, finally able to look into his eyes with as much lovesickness as you wanted. “and you were there. you saved me. like a friendly neighborhood superhero. you’re just… you make me feel safe, peter. i feel comfortable.”

peter’s eyes crinkled as he watched your face break into a sleepy smile. “you make me want to be a better person,” he confessed. “i’m a better person when i’m with you. all i ever want to do is make you comfortable, okay? if you just tell me how… i’ll do it.”

you pouted and sent him a slow, sticky blink. “i love you. i’m so happy i get to say it now. i love you.”

“i love you too,” peter’s eyes were practically shut by how hard he was smiling. “i love you so, so-”

“okay, you guys need to shut up,” rhodey complained, pulling out one of his airpods. “i’m literally listening to indina menzel right now and i can still hear you over her high notes.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

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